Silly Magazine

Silly Magazine
Originally uploaded by alpharat

I already know why...

Now it's just a matter of securing the necessary funds.

Seriously, this is not my idea of hard-hitting journalism.

Tonight, we'll be singing Drunken Lullabies...

Flogging Molly is tonight!



I look forward to when Flogging Molly comes to town, and tonight it's going to be extra special. It seems that a whole bunch of us (some of us good Catholics, even) have acquired tickets without a coordinated effort and will be meeting up to hoist a pint or 15.

Now I`m aimin' for heaven
But probably wind up down in hell
Where upon this alter I will hang my guilt ridden head
But it`s time I`ll take before I begin
Three sheets to the wind, Three sheets to the wind
Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be
Ah, no ball or chain no prison shall keep
We`re the rebels of the sacred heart

In a way, it almost seems like a sign that spring is on its way. It was a cold, windy, slippery drive to work today, but tonight, friends who've been scarce all winter have decided to shrug off the blanket of hibernation to go into the city for a celebration.

We'll be dancing, singing, drinking... and really is there much more to life? Ok, maybe there is, but tonight there isn't. Tonight, when I am shouting along to "Drunken Lullabies," "Salty Dog" or Rebels of the Sacred Heart" with a pint in my hand and my arms around my friends, soaked in sweat and beer, well that's all that's going to matter.

I'm getting misty-eyed just thinking about it.

Every year, Flogging Molly does a tour called the Green 17 Tour, which culminates on St. Patrick's Day, and every year, Detroit is one of the stops. (We're fortunate because the fiddle player is a native, and she and the singer lived here for a bit, although now they're living in Ireland.

Seriously, this show could not come at a better time, after a recurrence of cold was managing to drag my mood downward again.

Indeed, tonight sparks off what will be a festivity-packed, multi-ethnic weekend which will, by its end, have managed to include Irish music, a German beerhall, Spanish cuisine, a Broadway Musical and an Oscar Party. Look at me! Who's all cultured and shit?

And we're down to just hours away from it all...

Can you tell I'm a little excited?

Not a bad view. Not at all...

Not a bad view
Originally uploaded by alpharat

This is what I stare at all day when I'm working at my desk. It's really not a bad deal, because it's rather conducive to creative thought.

Then again, sometimes it's a bit too conducive for daydreaming.

I wouldn't trade it though, and I've had much worse. The absolute worst was the duck pond.

Once, at an old job, I was promised a view of a pond with ducks. After the new workspace was set up, they made a mistake. Not only would I have had to crane my neck to see the duck pond, but the cube wall climbed so high it obscured any window view.

Keep in mind that was the same job where, after making cutbacks and letting a ton of people go, they put in a pool table. The pool table was right outside the president's office, and nobody was allowed to use it, because they should be working. So this pool table was just a testament to how poorly run the company was, a beacon that proclaimed "look what the recovered salaries of your fallen comrades has brought us. Look, but don't touch."

Most depressing pool table ever.

I'll take this view, though. I like it.

Making up a song about Coraline... and Nanerpus

We saw Coraline this weekend…



This was an absolutely incredible movie. Neil Gaiman is a genius and I can’t wait to see what he does with the film adaptation of The Graveyard Book (which just won a Newberry Award, by the way)!

On its surface, Coraline is a story about a little girl who feels neglected by her parents, who are in the middle of a big work project. She finds a little door in the wall that takes her to another place, populated by “Other Mother” and “Other Father,” who pay attention to her, give her what she wants and cook better.

I won’t give any surprises away, but aside from the film’s scary parts, there are a bunch of other themes going on, that are thinly veiled and tap into a kid’s primal fears. Essentially, it’s a fear that your parents may disappear. And also, there was a feeling that I got when a child doesn’t quite understand the case when Mom and Dad are broke.

The movie was complex and beautiful and I loved it. Plus, we saw it in the most amazing 3D I’ve experienced. That just sweetened the deal.

Plus, Coraline’s family was from Pontiac, and they have a snow globe of the bear statues at the Detroit Zoo. If you went to the Detroit Zoo as a child, odds are you had your picture taken there.



Apparently the phones are ringing off the hook at the Zoo with people asking for those globes, which the Zoo has never actually produced. If they know what they’re doing, though, they’ll get with some company in China and do it fast before the buzz dies down.

Also, one more thing:

I heart Nanerpus.



Denny’s failed with this ad, because all I cared about with this ad was about how awesome Nanerpus was, and how Denny’s wrecked a perfectly good commercial with their part about their crappy food.

If there is any justice, a fifty-foot Nanerpus will rise from the depths and crush the restaurant chain once and for all, just Grand Slam them into oblivion. Then maybe, Nanerpus can finish his song in peace.

Pills, peas and a box of soup

Aside from the financial output of it, I love grocery shopping. I love going to the grocery store, certain ones anyway - those ones that offer what people in the industry call a good user experience.

At one time, I raved about Westborn, but that one has fallen by the wayside because their deli workers are mean and get meaner if you want more than one thing from the meat or deli counter and we've picked up produce that only lasted a few days from there, and even some that was revealed to be moldy when we got it home.

Plus, the last time we went (we still pop in there for produce, simply because it's convenient) they were out of jalapenos. Seriously, what the eff? What store runs out of something like jalapenos?

Really, the main reason I liked it was because the coffee smelled good in there.

One store that I am madly in love with is Trader Joe's. Seriously, I heart this place.

This guy made a commercial that sums up the way I feel about TJ's perfectly.

I hope the folks at TJ's give him a job for it.





Speaking of jobs...

Kwame just got a job in Texas yesterday. With Compuware.

This sickens me.

Compuware is a Detroit-based company that has, over the past few years, faced layoffs and cutbacks due to the failing economy. On Tuesday, they even announced the reduction of another 250 jobs in the Detroit office.

Apparently, they're doing well enough to hire the man who helped wreck Detroit, though.

While they are the sort of company that the average consumer doesn't use, I will be going out of my way to not have anything to do with them, and to let others know that I am not impressed by their choice at all. I can't see anyplace on a corporate roster where a thug like Kwame would even fit in, and have little respect for a company that feels otherwise.

Overheard...

The other night we went to a pretty people bar for a friend's birthday.

Pretty people bars are the sort of places I don't tend to go to. The reasons are, I think, obvious, so I won't go into it.

That being said, pretty people bars deserve a place in the world, because they give those people a place to go so I don't have to encounter them, except on the rare occasion that I end up at one of these places.

At any rate, this is the conversation I heard in the men's room, between a Russian guy and another guy. All of these people at the pretty people bar are quite interchangeable, mind you, and the only characteristic that distinguishes Russian guy from anyone else in there was his accent, so he's got that going for him, which is nice:

Russian guy: You go to next bar with us?

Other guy: No, man I have to work tomorrow.

Russian guy: You work where?

Other guy: Costco.

Russian guy: You doctor?

Other guy: No, a pharmacist.

Russian guy: Good. You get us Viagra?

True story, folks.

Good people and bad, they're all moving on...

I was just talking to Mike down in Texas. He was expressing displeasure at Michigan's new trend to send our undesirable materials down there. You see, Detroit's "beloved" former mayor Kwame Kilpatrick, now out of the slammer, has taken up residence in Dallas.

The man who helped wreck the city financially has been ordered to pay the city $1 million in restitution and has no job, yet managed to leave the jail with an entourage of bodyguards in SUVs and fly to Dallas on a private jet.

I have a feeling the city shouldn't hold its breath waiting for that money.

Kilpatrick joins Ted Nugent, another Michigan export, in Texas, but I doubt they hang out together that much.

I got some sad news this morning. Lux Interior, the lead singer of the Cramps, died yesterday. He was 62.



I saw them in 2003, and this guy was ageless.

His death marks the one celebrity death that has bothered me the most since Joe Strummer I think.

Man, it's a sign when all of the punk idols start dying from old age, innit?

I wrote my full thoughts on it here.

News Flash - It's still too cold outside

Music for the moment: Danzig – “Devil’s Plaything” (Explanation to follow)



Wow, could it be? Another post wherein I bitch about the cold? Yep.

Seriously, this winter has been a particularly brutal one. The snow continues to pile up, and it just hurts to be outside.

We had a beautiful reprieve last Sunday, when, out of the blue, the weather rocketed to the balmy 40-degree neighborhood. It was so nice that we went grocery shopping, extending the trip to four stores in order to: A. get the best bargains, and B. maximize the time spent driving around in the nice weather.

Of course, the bottom dropped out on the mercury again, with a wind chill of 15 below today, but this weekend is promising a few 40-degree days again, so we can thaw out a little more.

Medical attention... Evil medical attention

On Saturday night, I had an odd dream. I dreamt that I went to go stay at a mental hospital for a while. I’m not sure why, only that it was a self admission, because the staff kept saying that I could leave whenever I wanted.

It was a nice place, where I stayed in a little room that was tastefully furnished, and they let TFN come stay there with me, too. It was an important part of my treatment.

Here’s the most integral part of the dream, though. Danzig was my therapist (although he insisted I call him “Dr. Danzig”). And you know what? He was really cool.

So cool that, even though the staff kept telling me I was free to leave anytime I wanted, my reply would be, “Why would I want to leave? Dr. Danzig is a really cool guy.”

Oh, also he dressed just like in the video (black pants, no shirt, inverted cross), but with a white labcoat.

More Pork

Another aspect of Saturday involved making a marinade for the rest of that giant pork loin that the mean butcher made us take. I only bring it up again because the recipe was awesome, and after marinating for two days, we made the loin on Monday night.

This piece of pork is in contention for being one of the best things to have ever come out of our tiny little kitchen. Seriously.

Frozen

Now for a nice segue to a discussion of a disturbing news story. In one of the abandoned buildings downtown, a man was found frozen to death. Unfortunately, that's not all that uncommon for winter in Detroit, so that wouldn't generate extensive coverage normally.

This story was more odd, though.

The man was found encased in ice, after having fallen into water more than a month ago. The only indication that there was a man in there was that his feet were sticking out of the ice.

And he lay there, ignored, despite the fact that homeless people lived near him and scrappers walked past him, for over a month, until some "explorers" found him and made an anonymous phone call.

What causes us to become so self-absorbed that other people don't get the simple courtesy of a 911 call when they die?

The full story is here.

Free Music Chaser

I assume you now could use a bit of light-heartedness. If you, like me, think that The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust is one of music’s crowning moments, then go here and download this free Bowie remix album. Seriously, it’s good, and I’ve been loving it all morning.

I didn't need to know this about our president...

This was on our local news the other day...

Day One is Done, and the repairs have already started

I think I may have stumbled upon the one job that is recession-proof, and indeed may be quite the opposite.

Working in the unemployment office.

As Michigan’s unemployment rate rises to the double digits and continues to climb, it seems that our unemployment offices don’t have the staff or resources to accommodate all the people trying to get their benefits, and they are beefing up there.

I wonder how many people are trying to get into those jobs?

I truly feel sorry for Mr. Obama, because he has truly inherited a rundown amusement park. I watched the inauguration (as we all did), got excited, got hopeful, and then when it was over, got realistic. Now it’s time to get back to work.

No matter what you think of the guy (and I think very highly of him), he’s probably not a superhero or a miracle worker, and fixing this mess is going to take a lot of sweat and hard work from him, his staff and the rest of us.

If I only knew what to do, I’d start working on it right now.

In the first few days of his administration, though, I think he has already started to prove whose side he’s on - ours. On day one, the new president sent out a memo to all federal agencies telling them to commit to an era of open government. This means they need to start following the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA).

This overturns one of the actions of our internal axis of evil, John Ashcroft, who, in the wake of the big nine-one-one, ordered all government agencies to disclose information only after they looked for every possible reason to not disclose it, essentially shutting down the FOIA.

Obama’s administration is already looking friendlier to the public, and a transparent government is a government that (in a democracy) is one that is held to a high standard and an obligation to protect the interests of its citizens. It gives me hope in that sense. (Link to more)

Obama also ordered a suspension of a ton of 11th-hour regulatory changes that the Bush administration pushed through in its last days – with good reason (He didn’t have our best interests in mind throughout his presidency, why would he start at the end?). Among those was an order to remove wolves from the endangered species list in Michigan. Hopefully, scrutiny of that order puts them back on the list, because, let me tell you, we don’t really have a thriving wolf population here. Coyotes, yes, but that’s a whole different story.

So, yeah, I am hopeful based on what he’s already done, and I’m ready to do what I can to do my share. Who knows what it will be, but I’m realistic in the knowledge that state of affairs for the past eight years have left us needing a bit more than a fresh coat of paint.

Snowmen on a smoke break

Snowmen on a smoke break
Originally uploaded by alpharat

It's cold here, and we're buried in snow.

But people seem to having fun anyway.

Bad asses, warm hearts.

I love this photo.

It's from a story about a group of bikers who rescued a neglected bunch of kittens in New York.

That alone makes for cool enough story, located here.

But that story made me want to research it more.

The guys are part of a group called Rescue Ink.

Rescue Ink is an animal welfare group composed of big tattooed hot rodders, bikers, bodyguards and other people associated with positions that call for the big and badass. They perform animal rescues.

How awesome is that?

These guys know they're intimidating looking, and rather than simply use that to get ahead, they use it to help the ones who can't help themselves.

Seriously, these guys probably can perform an easier animal rescue action than your average 90-pound scrawny vegan animal rights activist.

No offense intended to the 90-pound scrawny vegan animal rights activists. Animals need all the help they can get, and you're important too.

It's just nice to have these guys in the corner of the animals as well.

Also, the guy in the photo?

He's 74.

I hope I look that good when I'm 74, facial tats or no.

Link to Rescue Ink.

The World's Largest Car Showroom

I was at the North American International Auto Show yesterday, and like everything else associated with the auto industry, it's hurting.

Gone are the big elaborate multimedia displays that make up most of the glitz of the thing. Instead, the automakers are simply displaying their new cars. Granted, that's what NAIAS is supposed to be about, but the end result is that the whole thing simply looks like a giant showroom.

For a "car person," I'm sure the allure is still there. I am not particularly a car person, though, and I like the spectacle of it all. At least the spectacle of what it used to be.

There were some fun funky concepts and new electric cars, but I can't wait for the car companies to recover so we can see more flashy lights and interactive displays again.

Amani

This is Amani. Amani is a baby aardvark who was born at the Detroit Zoo in December.

The zookeepers are waiting on blood tests to find out if Amani is a boy or girl yet, so don't feel bad if you weren't sure either when you looked at this little bucket of cute.

Amani is more important than you realize, because this little lump of snuggles represents Detroit making national news with a story that has nothing to do with a failing auto company or the worst football team of all time.

Any time we can get that, we're blessed.

Welcome to the world, little one.

Winter Reading List

I just got the preliminary list of bands that will be at SXSW, and I am stoked. Among the list is Futomomo Satisfaction, and I have to say I am quite interested in seeing this Japanese band’s… live show. I hear their music is pretty good too.



Don’t worry, we’ll get photos.

With the enforced hibernation that the weather has created lately, I’ve found myself getting a lot done in the house. Of course, it’s not the stuff that needs to be done; my office, basement and kitchen cabinets are still a mess, but I’ve accomplished a lot of reading, and some video games.

As for reading, I plowed through two books this week, and am just about finished with a third.

First up was Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, which is one I’ve wanted to read for a long time, ever since I heard an NPR story on it last year. Now, with a movie in the works, I really thought I should read it.

The Road is post-apocalyptic fiction, focused on a father and son as they travel across the country, trying to stay alive. It’s a realistic version of Mad Max; rather than all of the road warrior stuff, you have a dad and his kid scrounging for canned goods to carry in a shopping cart. It’s frightening in its realism; if a bomb ever gets dropped, this will probably be what it’s like afterward.

Following that was Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. This was lighter reading than The Road, but still rather dark. Essentially, The Graveyard Book takes the idea of Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book and moves it, you guessed it, to the graveyard, where a little orphan is raised by ghosts rather than wolves. It’s a lot of fun. Really, it is. Share it with your kids.

Apparently, I can’t stray too far from heavy topics, though, because right now I am finishing up Aron Ralston’s Between a Rock and a Hard Place. You may not recognize the name, but you know the story: Ralston was the guy whose arm was pinned by a boulder in a climbing accident, and he ended up amputating his hand with a pocketknife in order to escape. It’s a really good story about self-evaluation and the choices we make and why we make them. Also recommended.

During my reading binge, TFN also read The Watchmen, which I had read a long time ago and recommended to her when I saw they are making a movie (if it ever comes out). She agreed; it's probably the best comic ever written, and I hope she forgives me for outing the latent geekiness in her love for comics.

The reading has been due to the cold combined with a lack of snow. The lack of snow is of course our fault; we haven’t gotten decent amounts of snow in these parts ever since we bought our cross-country skis, and it's too cold to bike right now.

This is going to change, though. We are due to get four or five inches tonight, and skiing is on for the morning.

Wish me luck that I don’t get my car stuck in the snow out there this year (last year was a close call). I’d hate to have to perform a car part amputation. It’s paid off.

Wicked thoughts about dressing up

Saturday, we went to see Wicked at the Detroit Opera House. It was amazing.

If you haven’t read the book, Wicked is the story of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz. Her story, like most when you look into them, is complex, full of ambiguities.

That’s one thing I liked about the whole story – it has no villains. There are a bunch of characters, some less likeable than others, but they’re all three-dimensional, like in real life. There rarely exists someone who is truly good or truly bad.

There are also a bunch of underlying themes, dealing with politics, xenophobia and racism. It’s a complex bit of musical theater.

It was cool to catch it at the Opera House, too. It’s a beautiful building, and they had it all decorated for the holidays still.

One thing I do want to pick apart has to do with some of my fellow patrons.

I’m not a snob by any means, especially not a clothing snob. I’ve worn cut-off fatigues and a punk rock t-shirt to business meetings. That being said, the theater is a special place, it’s a dressy occasion.

You don’t wear jeans to the theater.

You don’t wear tracksuits to the theater.

Now, I’m not talking about the little arthouse theaters. We have one that’s BYOB, and the environment is more relaxed. You can wear what you want to those. But a spectacle like a Broadway musical at the Opera House calls for a little more decorum. Suits are not essential, but would it kill you to put on some khakis and a sweater at least!?!

Then there are entire families; parents and kids all dressed like slobs. If dads wearing jeans and a t-shirt, it’s no surprise that little Timmy looks like he just rolled out of bed. Perpetuation…

Then, while we’re on the subject of kids, there is a certain age at which it becomes OK to take a child to a musical. That age isn’t set in stone, but it’s once the child is past the point where they’re old enough to be entertained, rather than flailing about in the seat next to me and talking to her mother. I didn’t blame the kid; she was just bored. And she was bored because she didn’t want to sit still and listen to singing, no matter the subject. Then, mom made the stellar choice of feeding her candy so she was bored and wound up.

I know what the tickets cost, and know that Mom could have hired one of the best babysitters in Detroit Metro for the cost of that seat that her little one occupied. Seriously, if the kid is too young to care, don’t bring her to the theater.

All my bitching aside, we had a wonderful time. The play was amazing.

Afterward, we scoped out a little Cuban place that just opened up, and we went for a BIG pitcher of sangria and some topless tapas dining. Among the fare was a dish that consisted of shrimp, cream cheese and jalapenos, mixed into a little ball and wrapped in bacon, then deep fried.

Awesome.

We became so inspired that on Sunday we cooked Cuban Pork with mago papaya salsa and some Cuban rice. I think we are definitely fans of Cuban food now.

To buy the pork loin, I went to a different meat shop than the one I prefer (Holiday Market). At Holiday, the meat guys are friendly, helpful and knowledgeable. The meat guy at the other place we happened to be at was not any of these things, and refused to cut down a pork loin for me, leaving me with four pounds of pork for the two of us. As we were standing there while he wrapped it up, TFN asked why he wouldn’t cut us one down. I just looked at her and audibly said, “because he’s not very nice; surely not as nice as the folks at Holiday.”

The recipe came out wonderfully, but now I’m figuring out what to do with the rest of this pork loin. I’ll let you know.

One more note: the salsa recipe calls for fresh coriander. I could not find this. At home, I consulted the interwebs and found out what the recipe calls "fresh coriander" is more commonly known as cilantro. I'm not a fan of cilantro, and usually substitute parsley, which is what I did here and it was good.

But yeah: fresh coriander = cilantro. Now you know.

Elsewhere, Ron Asheton of the Stooges was found dead today. I saw the Stooges on a reunion tour in ’03, and they are still a rock and roll powerhouse. This is the show I was at:



RIP, Ron. We'll not see the likes of you again.

Out with the old...

Wow, it seems that another year has passed somehow, hasn’t it?

In the interest of starting with a fresh slate, it’s time for a quick purge of thoughts that I may or may not want/need in the New Year.

The Ting Tings – “That’s not my name”: Front-runner for being my favorite guilty pleasure pop song for the year. Additional points are gained because this song conjures up memories of screaming down the Fox River in a ski boat at dusk with said song cranked.



Detroit Lions: The Lions went 0-16, officially making them the worst team of all time. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. If they had gone 1-15 or 2-14, we would have just dealt with the knowledge we always have – and that is that the Lions suck. But now we can have it on the books that the Lions are, in fact, the worst team. Ever.

Batter Blaster: Don’t buy it.

From the first moment I saw the Batter Blaster in the store I wanted it. TFN was not as keen on the idea. Then, while we were doing the apocalyptic stockup (more on that to follow), I picked up the can of Batter Blaster and played the “but it’s Christmas” card. She relented.

For the record, Batter Blaster sucks. It doesn’t behave like normal pancake batter, bubbling to let you know when to flip it, so all of your pancakes are goopy or burnt, and the can ends up in the garbage.

Apocalyptic Stockup: In Michigan, liquor sales are suspended from midnight on Christmas Eve until the morning of the 26th. Don’t ask me why, it has something to do with Jesus somehow.

As a result, there is always some internal fear as this deadline draws near that, a.) liquor sales will for some reason not resume, or b,) we will somehow run out in those few hours. As a result, we irrationally stock up. This year’s stockup consisted of:

Bailey’s
Maker’s Mark
Rebel Yell
A case of Labatt Blue Light
3 bottles of champagne
3 bottles of wine

I know, right?

Cooking up a Storm: One of the gifts that Santa brought TFN for Christmas this year was a copy of Cooking Up a Storm: Recipes Lost and Found from The Times-Picayune of New Orleans.

After Katrina, among all of the other devastating losses that NOLA suffered, many people discovered that their treasured family recipes were also lost. And whether or not you’ve been to NOLA, you’re probably aware that New Orleans cooking is exquisite.

In the wake of the storm, The Times-Picayune of New Orleans was a swapping spot for people to reclaim lost recipes, and the paper compiled them into a book.

We made a pot of chicken and sausage gumbo the other night, and it was amazing. It was so good that I don’t mind that the house smelled like gumbo for three days after.

Be a Dick, Do the Time: It’s sad that we as a people need a law for this, but since we do, I’d like to see it passed everywhere.

In Brighton, they passed a law that allows police to ticket and fine anyone who is annoying in public "by word of mouth, sign or motions."

Enforcing that law would be enough to make me want to be a cop.

New Year’s Plans: This year, all is as I hope it should be. We are going to Geekfest 08/09, which essentially involves friends, booze, a living room and video games. I look forward to bringing in the New Year with good friends.

I also hope that 2009 will be the year that Detroit – and Michigan - turns itself around. Unfortunately, I’m thinking it will be 2010 at the soonest. We’ll see though.

Happy New Year, all! Check out my list of the 10 best albums on 2008 if you’re inclined, and don’t forget to put a penny on the sill tonight!

P.S. - If you were taken aback by my favorite pop song of 2008 being, you know, too poppy, let me point you to this video from my favorite album of the year, so you know I've not gone too soft:



Hope 2009 brings you all enough.

Just pointing this out...

Just to make you aware, this is why you can never hope to be as cool as my friend Heather.
I figured you needed to know.

Yup.

Wow.

Just wow.

This little video made we want to laugh and go home and hang myself at the same time.



I hope everyone's holidays are going wonderfully, and you send some cheer my way on Christmas Eve. You know, while I'm at work.

Digging out...

Thus far, we have around 10 inches of snow outside... I am not overly pleased by this.

I'm not hot weather person by any means, but I do want some spring weather now. Which made me think of this song, a song that reminds me of days when I lived in the student ghetto, and the first nice days of the year meant walking to the store for some beer or wine and sitting around, just being happy we'd survived another winter.

Did you realize it's not even technically winter yet? This is going to get old quickly.

The hardest part about taking an extended break from the blog, for whatever reason, is that inertia sets in. When one hasn't been writing for a while, it's simply easier to not write. The inverse is also true, once I get into the rhythm of making words, it's easier for me to make them than to not. The words pile up until I get to full of words, and they need to be disposed of somehow, in a great glorious regurgitation quite linguistic in nature.

But, having taken time off, my body drops into verbal starvation mode; words have been so hard to come by, the body begins to hoard each calorie of consonant, and there is little to go around.

And so, you need to begin to force those words out and about, that they may seed themselves, and create bigger words of greater culinary sophistication, until one's vocabulary is one for the gourmands again.

The main way to do that is to talk about those things that rankle one's limpets.

For example, there was a grocery store that refused to decorate a 3-year-old child's birthday cake, carrying the child's name. Why? Because the kid's name is Adolf Hitler Campbell. First off, why the fuck would you name your kid this unless you were an unaplogetic racist, an overly flaky artsy douchebag or just a simple moron?

Giving these parents the benefit of the doubt (although I'm not sure which of those distinctions is the least resentful of the three), reading the rest of the article reveals that little Adolph's baby sister is named JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell. Seriously.

Who let these people have kids? In Pennsylvania no less.

For those of you who feel sorry for little Hitler, fear not. A store did decorate his cake. A Wal-Mart no less. Go figure. Why am I not surprised? (Link to Story)

Another thing that happened in my absence was a shoe-throwing incident. Apparently a journalist tried to bean the lame duck pres with a shoe, this being a symbol of great disapproval in the Arabic culture. I would like to applaud the guy for standing up for what he believes in. Honestly, one can't go about hurling shoes at other people to express disdain, even when that person happens to be one of the worst things to happen to the U.S., and many other parts of the world, in quite some time. It's sad, but you can't.

It's sort of like, when you capture soldiers and leaders of countries that you are at war with, you have to treat them in accordance with the guidelines set aside in the Geneva Convention. You can't just treat them however you like, and make up a new classification for said soldiers and leaders so that you obtain a loophole. I'm sorry, but this is also not allowed.

What you can do, however, is latch onto the idea of the shoe as a symbol of disdain. Take your old shoes, box them up, and mail them here:

George W. Bush Presidential Library
c/o SMU
6425 Boaz Lane
Dallas TX 75205

Wouldn't it be nice to bury that place in old shoes?

I guess I can't be too hard on the old man, he did just approve the emergency auto loans today, but I still seriously hope that, should this help fix everything and make it right, nobody loses sight of the fact that he is really not a good person.

The auto loan approval leaves me with a feeling of "great, but now what?" - the same feeling I had when I found out Obama had been elected. It's good, it's a step in the right direction, but man, are we so fucked for the time being.

Honestly, I have never lived in a time before where everyone I know, regardless of occupation, was in fear for their jobs at the same time.

Wandering off that subject, the cop that I mentioned in this post a while ago is facing charges, so at least the world appears sane somewhere, even if the rest of us are not on an even keel right.

I don't know. It's almost Christmas, so I better get to work and being merry now, no?

RIP - Bettie Page

The terms and reasons for my seclusion are still ongoing, but I needed to take a moment to express my distress over two items:

1. The bailout fell through. Worse times are most likely ahead.

2. Bettie Page passed away.

Bettie Page is a woman whose... body of work... is something I have always greatly admired. Granted, she's been out of the public eye for a great many years, but her contribution to pop culture and the dreams of teenage boys is without compare.

RIP Ms. Page. Thanks.







There's a memorial here.