Charm School

2010-05-04T01:24:00.000-07:00

The wind takes every risk
rages past ragged cliffs
marries sky to land in a bond of ice
tears out,
roots up,
raises hell,
laughs like tinkling knives.
Through wicker limbs he's howling,
this maniacal bard,
at every chaos left in the breakneck path,
so consumed is he with leading apace
and without remorse.

Black Beauty

2010-03-10T15:50:00.000-08:00

Here's my boy, maybe five years ago. He's almost back to this speed. And I am doing that embarrassing & babying voice I often reduce myself to when coaxing adorable animals. I love him so much.

(sorry the video failed - Blogger must have changed format)

Lost Cause

2010-03-05T10:40:00.000-08:00

While 'watching'* this most annoying of shows with the obsessed boyfriend -

Locke: What if I told you you could have anything you wanted. What if I said you could have anything in the entire world?
Sayid: I would tell you that the only think I ever wanted died in my arms, and I'll never see it again.
Locke: What if you could?

Me: Is he going to make him watch "The Secret?"**
BF: You're an asshole.***

Later -

Me: Is this scene happening in the past, present or future?
BF: Well, see last season they were doing all the flashbacks and blah blah blah blahbitty blah and this year it's both the flash forwards and the Blah to the blah-blah, and ON AND ON, and all kinds of dizy-making description and explanantion-
Me: I didn't ask for a dissertation on the space-time-continuum of Lost, I just want to know in which part of time this scene is.
BF: You really have to see it from the beginning.
Me: You people always say that, but it's just a dressed-up tropical, sci-fi soap opera, and they've done that theme on Days of Our Lives since at least the early '80s.

I'm really never giving that show any more chances.

postscript: I'm getting this t-shirt made: "All who wander are not into Lost."

(*by this I mean mostly interrupting as much as possible, reading, fidgeting, yawning, watching him watch and generally distracting myself and others from watching it, which could be seen as a public service or act of charity.

**...that or they are going to fashion themselves a Golem, old Jew-schoolio. Either way, it's a lose-lose situation, but then, that's the title!

***double-true.)

Alpha Doggin'

2010-02-23T12:11:00.000-08:00

Now, peep this. Oh, this mortal coil.

Cinematic Insights

2010-01-31T17:23:00.001-08:00

My friend, Rob, texts me this today: "I'm watching The Birds, and my thought is not so much on the plot and its theme of complacency, but moreso on the fact that Tippi Hedren, in her day, was very doable."

A Brief History of Time

2010-01-11T23:03:00.000-08:00

I've never told anyone this before, but my family* is credited with inventing one of the first watches, by a prominent old family in Biel. I find this funny in the context of Time as illusory. So, blame us for false constructs, I guess. Phillip K. Dick claimed some manner of mystical experience across dimensions of time - epiphanal even, as he felt time was an illusion. From then on, he sensed Time was essentially created by Satan to prolong and delay the return of Jesus Christ, the Second Coming.

Did you know he lived next to Disneyland?

(*In fact, my Swiss great-great grandfather was also a master watchmaker, who emigrated to America in 1890.)

Funny Talks with Funny Boys

2010-01-11T20:30:00.000-08:00

Chris: I have an interview I give every girl I date.

Me: REALLY? What?

Chris: It's two questions - #1 If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? If she answers with something like, "My Nose," she's out.

Me: Why is that?

Chris: (rather emphatically, which is generally how he relates things) Because God GAVE you that nose and you should be basking in gratitude for it!

Me: Uh, ok, what's #2?

Chris: Can you cook? The answer is always "no" in this town.

Terry: (indicating to me) She can REALLY cook.

Tim walks up to us at this point.

Chris: Hey Tim, can your girlfriend cook?

Tim (looking completely incredulous): She's PRETTY.

Looking Forward, Looking Back

2010-01-02T01:07:00.001-08:00

Someone's a bit overly wistful and introspective, much of which is brought on by over-exposure (it only takes a second) to Tim Buckley. If there is a more beautiful song in the world than Song to the Siren, I don't know it. It makes me feel so much I almost can't bear it. It's a beautiful dream from which I never want to awaken. It makes me feel I'm living the wrong life. It sounds like the most intense love and sex and sorrow I've ever had.

Here's to Tim, whose more famous son had a remarkable voice and was also a very good songwriter, but his father maybe should be more widely remembered and revered. I'll have to do more serious study and consideration before I can absolutely swear to it, but it is generally what I feel.

Tim Buckley recorded this in 1970 -

And here's to the Cocteau Twins and Elizabeth Fraser's always stunning vocals and melismatic style. I love this '83 version every bit as much as the original.

Fraser much later would have an "intense personal relationship" with Tim's son, Jeff Buckley. They recorded his song, "All Flowers in Time Bend Towards the Sun." He was so like his father, whom he met only once.

Ok, I have to go now and gather my guts up off the floor.

Happy New Year's Eve, Loveys!

2009-12-31T23:30:00.000-08:00

...and under a beautiful, full, Cancer moon (and right on this girl's heart):

Dear little moon in the deep heavens,
your light sees far away,
Around the wide world you wander,
you look into homes of people.
Dear little moon, stand still for a while,
tell me, where is my beloved?
Say to him, silvery dear little moon,
that my arms embrace him,
Let him, at least for a little while,
think of me in dreams.
Though he is far away, shine your light on him
and tell him who waits for him here!
If the human soul dreams, let this dream awaken him!
Dear little moon, do not disappear!

Antonín Dvořák - Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém (Song to the Moon)

Xmas Wishlist

2009-12-21T10:42:00.000-08:00

I had forgotten all about this song, and little Gayla Peevey, who sang it like she was a young Ethel Merman, until last night when the amazing Eliza Rickman sang it as the opener to the Solstice Concert I helped put together. I've been singing it all morning, and I want one too.

LegManLA

2009-12-02T08:40:00.000-08:00

My Pulitzer prize winning friend, so downtrodden by the collapse of real journalism, has started a zine for life in Los Angeles. Yours truly is the "legs" in the mastead photo, much to her surprise (I signed no release; should I sue?), and is reminded of how badly she needs to get her ass back to the gym. By the way, those fishnets were for Halloween, as was the dark wig. Apparently, the world likes me better as a brunette. Oh, wait, this was supposed to be about Howie, not me. Read his bloggity whatever I'm supposed to call it. It really is amusing, but I would say that, as it largely examines my 'hood.

Behind the Scenes

2009-11-23T13:23:00.000-08:00

If you liked The Party Rules video, check out the making of. The Flavor Flav bit is hilarious.

The Party Rules

2009-11-21T01:02:00.001-08:00

My friendz made this. They are Supermodelz. They make the rulez. Pass it on.

A Word for Our Sponsor

2009-10-30T10:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Blackberry -

If, according to the the music you've chosen for your ad campaign, "all you need is love," why would I buy?

Also, I am really tired of the Beatles getting pimped out by the ad world. Bad show. This is one of the many reasons I am so tv avoidant. Do we thank a posthumous Michael Jackson, Mr. Wings, or Yoko?

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2009-10-28T16:20:00.001-07:00

Are you ready for Halloween yet? And can anyone tell me what it is that I am eating?

Our street is the best for this holiday. Everyone goes all out.

Check out the fun house that sits on my neighbor's driveway -

It's no wonder we get over 300 trick-or-treaters each year. And that's just the kids.

Smote 'Em If You Got 'Em

2009-10-26T22:55:00.000-07:00

The good Lord must be in a real retributin' kind of mood, because last night, you know, after posting that ersatz Swiftian nonsense about my dog, the little bastard decided to eat part of the neighbor's Oleander hedge. Just to teach me a lesson. Despite living here for 8 1/2 (there's a Fellini movie I've never seen) years, and never once having shown interest in anything green other than grass, he bit off a few leaves before I got wise.

Oleander, it's just one of the deadliest plants known to man and beast. So I stuck my hand down his throat, extracted what I could, and dosed him with activated charcoal. He's fine. It's just part of his extensive Shaman training, I tell myself. Transmuting poisons. What's next after a rattlesnake bite, scorpion sting and lethal plant ingestion, I wonder? He slit his wrist once, breaking out my bedroom window, and slicing a vein to the extent that my bed was covered in blood, and I mean soaked into the pillows. The front hallway and door were so puddled and smeared, it looked like the Manson murders. We've had two near deaths, as well as the resurrection from 8+ months of paralysis. Maybe onto hallucinogens? When Duff's done with his Ayahuasca Ceremony, I'll let you know.

Despite his 11 1/2 years, my vet swears he's got the physique and constitution of a 5 year old. I read once that the record for a Labrador Retriever was 25 years. In Scotland. Though I hear their air quality's a little better, that's what I'm aiming for.

Still, we need to say good by to a Cajun ami from the swamps of Louisiana, dog of a lovely, crazy coonass who got put down this weekend. Dear chocolate bean, not only were you one of the coolest, most intrepid dogs I ever met, and a real sweet little bee, you also had one of the best dog names ever, Bosco. Look after Chad, I know he's all torn up about you going.

Fais do-do, chére bébé...

Walker, At-At Ranger

2009-10-26T10:42:00.000-07:00

The World Wide Web

2009-10-25T20:31:00.000-07:00

"When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find that it is bound fast by a thousand invisible cords that cannot be broken, to everything in the universe."

-John Muir

The Greenhouse Gasses He Passes

2009-10-24T13:27:00.001-07:00

This isn't the first time this issue has come up, though I hadn't seen anyone put the blame for global warming on any animals that weren't husbanded, thus far. Now it seems some mad scientists want us to get rid of our household pets, that is, unless we intend to eat them.

Forget that owning a pet helps reduce stress, is good for your heart, or that raising kids with a family dog gives them stronger immune systems and probably lowers their likelihood of allergies. Never mind that they protect us and give us a general sense of well-being, fostering the growth of love, sharing and compassion. Raise them, love them, then eat them! What a great lesson in bonding AND the life/death cycle for your kids!

The argument is that feeding a dog for a year is twice the carbon paw print of driving a Toyota Land Cruiser 6,213 miles a year. First of all, I don't know anyone who doesn't drive at least twice that every year, but I'm not trying to use that as an argument against their theory.

Anyone who owns one knows that all dogs are bad. If you're uncertain about my claim, look up Revelations 22:14-15 - dogs are not only freakin' liars, they clearly have no right to the tree of life. What foul and detestable being put them on this earth to begin with? They aren't called the hounds of hell* for nothing.

However, the Drs. Vale do have it a bit wrong, of this I am sure. The real problem here is that they are blaming canines generally for climate change, when the truth is, all global warming begins and ends with my dog, who is systematically decimating the planet. I mean that MRI alone...

(This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.)*

That's right, blame Duff. He's a right bastard. After the stoning Sunday afternoon, we'll be throwing him on the barbie. Never mind that he has just started running again, we're going to do the right thing for the polar ice caps - come on by! And since I've now spent as much on him in the last sixteen months as my first year at Brown (and though that tuition was only half what it is today), this will be the most expensive brisket you've ever tasted!

He says he's sorry.

(*Billy Shakes)

Don't Mess with the Messer

2009-10-23T13:19:00.001-07:00

You go, Girly-girl.

Suzanne?

2009-10-21T18:19:00.000-07:00

Journalist: Would you rather make love or make poems? Or is it the same thing?

Leonard Cohen: That depends on the girl.

Shameless Self-Promotion

2009-10-21T00:14:00.000-07:00

Tonight I discovered an amazing website that was published as a book, Overqualified. Best to let the author describe the project, based on actual letters he sent to companies:

"Cover letters are all the same. They're useless. You write the same lies over and over again, listing the store-bought parts of yourself that you respect the least. God knows how they tell anyone apart, but this is how it's done.

And then one day a car comes out of nowhere, and suddenly everything changes and you don't know if he'll ever wake up. You get out of bed in the morning, and when you sit down to write another paint-by-numbers cover letter, something entirely different comes out.

You start threatening instead of begging. You tell impolite jokes. You talk about your childhood and your sexual fantasies. You sign your real name and you put yourself honestly into letter after letter and there is no way you are ever going to get this job. Not with a letter like this.

And you send it anyway."

Dig into the archives here. After reading the first two, I was already in love.

Oh Come All Ye Patriots

2009-10-20T12:23:00.000-07:00

I'm just sayin' - some things never change, they just put on a different face.

When Animals Attack Your Bogey

2009-10-19T12:50:00.000-07:00

Golf finally got interesting.

First Evah Charm School Retraction

2009-10-18T21:32:00.000-07:00

In re the post of 10.14.09, My Daughter, My Sister -

Certain facts have come to light (thank you, Dr. DRay), and in an effort to somewhat restore Ms. Goldberg, as much as her sullied reputation and bad sister act can be salvaged, the blog mistress would like to confirm that though her sentiments seem to have been well represented here, she did not say it wasn't "rape-rape." Her words in fact were, actually (we have italicized the necessary changes):

"It was somebody else but I don’t believe it was The Grape-Ape.”

Over 40 ft. high!
Just a little bit shy!

(I do believe we will be making t-shirts of this, you know, to spread the good news, so place your pre-orders now.)

The Why

2009-10-18T17:41:00.000-07:00

There's a room where a small boy is with a candle.
The man in the room, referring to the candle asks, "Tell me where this light comes from."

The boy blows out the candle and replies,
"You tell men where this light went and I'll tell you where it comes from."

- Sufi parable

(Where I got this is a little embarrassing, I suppose, but I overheard it (I swear), while my bf was watching that new tv show, Flash Forward, which seems quite like his old obsession, Lost. He is now calling me an awful snob. Though I googled it three different ways, I cannot confirm that it was not constructed by a Hollywoodland writer. Not sure it's any less great, however.)

My Daughter, My Sister

2009-10-14T23:57:00.000-07:00

Wrote this when it was more timely (did anyone else find it curious that John Phillips and Le Petit Pollack got busted in the same seven day period? The perv stars alligned.) Anyway, I'm still going to launch it, reinspired by the video I just saw on a friend's website, as posted way below. The belt.

I am starting to see Free Polanski, in graphic, writ, sentiment. I cannot understand it, why people so insouciantly dismiss from reasonable consequence a man who plied with alcohol, drugged, then raped and sodomized a thirteen-year-old child in Jack Nicholson's home, while she protested. A man who, no matter what the stature and breadth of his talent, plead guilty to sex with a minor and then fled the country. I'm sorry, not being able to pick up your Oscar just doesn't quite qualify as penance.

Let me reiterate, He drugged and raped a child. The fact he felt the need to sedate her should tell you just what sort of man he was, just what manner of "seduction" was occurring, and by whom. It's ludicrous to point the finger at the girl, no matter how nubile, whatever wiles she might have possessed or even employed. In this country, we don't think it's cool to fuck children, and no one would be arguing this point were the victim a boy.

I have read all thirty-six available pages of her testimony, looked at newly released graphic evidence and medical reports, as well as the parole officer's recommendations to the court. It's pretty interesting. I cannot believe no one ever mentions this:

There is one moment of exquisite discomfort, impossibly cute horror, sadness, hilarity, perverse poetical madness, when the naïf tells the court, "He performed 'cuddliness' on me."

Cuddliness.

The attorney asks for clarification, she gives it. I won't repeat it, not because I'm shy, but because you get it.

I had to recuse myself from the document for a time following that.

The empaths feel he's suffered enough. I understand their point and agree he's been through a lot - the loss of his mother at Auschwitz, his wife and child slain by the Mansons, his own ghetto childhood, and always forever being so terribly, terribly short.

(let that last one sink in a little)

When we awaken from our nightmares, we don't go forth and perpetuate violence on others, innocents, to retaliate against the midnight demons.* We are meant to turn the other cheek. Way to pay it forward, Polanski.

Some argue (this includes the state-appointed psychiatrist and parole officer who offered their recommendations), that he wasn't really the sort to be a continual danger to others. I guess not. I mean, how you can know that? I'm not really certain. Any probing into his later romantic history paints a slightly different picture, but ok.

Still, what about his attempts to scar my psyche?

I'm not trying to say the man isn't hugely talented, but shall we take a moment to examine the psycho-sexual content of the films of this "great writer/director" for a moment? I will stick to the ones I've actually seen:

Pre-Tate Era (in case you're tempted to argue that was the event that did him in):

Repulsion - Hot Belgian chick goes nutso as she indulges obsessive rape fantasies. (1965)

Rosemary's Baby - Sweet newlywed, fond of white light and daisies, transforms seedy, dark, old Manhattan apartment to prepare for offspring. Sadly, husband has joined downstairs Bohemian/Satanic cult, then drugs her and allows her to be raped and impregnated by Lucifer himself. Which, sort of makes her a starfucker. (1968)

AposTate:

(Faye applies make-up on the set, 1974)

Chinatown - Amid the land and water rights turf war in the San Fernando Valley, aforementioned Gentleman Jack discovers somber and resistant, but still smokin' hot, Faye Dunaway. In the course of his seduction, is disappointed to discover that she has begotten the rape-child of her father, which makes her his Baby Mama Daughter (in the parlance of the day). Oh, and Polanski pops up briefly to vivisect Jack's face. Did he regret already using the title, Knife in the Water? (1974)

I'm so gay for Kinski in this, though it's Playdohnic.

Tess (of the D'Urbervilles, I read this one as a teenager, but saw the film in 5th grade and loved it, but was Completely Traumatized.) - Hopelessly beautiful country maiden, with some distant, long-forgotten claim to nobility, is played as pawn to her coarse father's ambitions. She is sent to the affluent cousin for employment, who seduces her with strawberries perfectly mimicking the voluptuous beauty of her lips, then rapes and impregnates her. After which, he casts her back to her family farm where, in true Hardy fashion, the baby dies. More bad, heartbreaking stuff happens, and though it involves continual mistreatment from men and an eventual life of virtual prostitution, there isn't any more rape, so we end it here. However, it is notable that Polanski had a long-term relationship with his star, Nastassja Kinski, which began when she was 15. (1979)

Bitter Moon - Roman cast his much younger, if legal, wife in a Love Boat cruise of sexual "exploration," sado-masochism, and general degradation and depravity. This film is a shipwreck, and I hated it. (1992)

The Ninth Gate - I dunno, never saw it, but I know it's about Satan. Still, no rapin', so what's the point?

...Iss-ues.

(I understand this documentary is rather forgiving of the situation. I haven't seen it, but at least one of the interviewees is lying.)

And this is not about a failure of forgiveness on my part for a great artist or for a fragile, imperfect human being. It's about having some feeling for the child he victimized. It's about not taking the cheap, well-worn road where we blame the female for her natural loveliness. Are we still going to continue to sanction rape for "important" people? Dear Miss Goldberg, do you really need to be an apologist for Roman Polanski? It wasn't "rape-rape"? Is that a legal term? Did you learn NOTHING from your starring role in The Color Purple? Are you a complete dumbshit? I used to think not. Do you not know what a plea bargain is and why a defendant bargains for it? Do you imagine a thirteen-year-old girl wants a middle aged midget, no matter how famous, to give her anal? Is that rapity-rape, you wascalldy-wabbit? I guess in other parts of the world...

Celie, I think it pisses God off when you walk by an abused child and don't notice she's raped.

Of course you're the woman who, many years ago, insisted upon getting the private company jet to Comic Relief (you know, the charity fundraiser?), then threw a fit backstage over the decadent waste at the craft service table, according to my friend and former HBO VP. That was big of you, thinking of all the funds diverted from poor people. I mean, melon balls and jet fuel are about the same in the commodities market, after all. Shame on you, Whoopi, on both counts. I'm now angrier at you than the actual perp.

What this is about, for me anyway, is respecting the sovereignty of other human beings, whatever qualities they possess or lack, whatever their ambitions, whatever their relative "worth," as if that were even a measurable quantity. She had a right to pass through that home untouched, even if she was just a girl. Even if she was sent to the casting by her own mother. Even if she were as dumb, lame and completely dysfunctional as Whoopi Goldberg. And that brings us of course to the fact that the victim herself has forgiven him and wants this all to go away. That's where I get stymied, because as much as I want to see good laws upheld, justice to me isn't about serving the structure and letter of the law itself, it's about protecting the people. I don't know if California views rape as a crime against the state, thereby removing the decision of prosecution from the hands of the victim, but I am too tired to Google it. I can see why we would protect against responses akin to Stockholm Syndrome and also how a patriarchal handling can further damage the injured party.** It boils down to personal sovereignty.

And okay, maybe there really was a kangaroo presiding, and Polanski wasn't going to get a fair deal. So he ran. Maybe I should research all that too, but I don't think it changes what he did.

It seems clear to me that the director was never really publicly repentant at all. Let's face it, he has called it a "love affair." So, as for you, Mr. Polanski, whatever the case, that girl didn't make you short. God made you short. He was punishing you in advance.

(*Oh wait, We do that all the time. I generally do not.
**This is a blog post unto itself, but I had a close friend who was raped, brutalized and very nearly killed, if not for her formidable escape. The perp got out of state quickly. Her veteran father and his secret ops chum took it upon themselves to see that justice was served. His head was on a platter, quite literally, if you drop the dish itself. And that is the horror she never quite got over. Many of you will say he got what he deserved. But she hated her father for it, precisely because he took the control from her hands.)

Birth

2009-10-10T20:34:00.000-07:00

"We all enter this world in the same way: naked, screaming, and soaked in blood. But if you live your life right, that kind of thing doesn't have to stop there."

- Dana Gould

Turn around's fair play

2009-10-07T18:16:00.001-07:00

Twitterpated

2009-10-07T17:30:00.001-07:00

And then there's Twitter's version of PostSecret, Secret Tweet. I wonder, will you curse me for this one, Huck?

The Very Reason Twitter Exists

2009-10-03T23:38:00.000-07:00

It's the shit my dad says.

It might even be why we exist.

This says it all

2009-10-03T12:43:00.000-07:00

Home Alone
by Vince Aslett

These people were always finding water all over their pool deck and furniture, every time they came home, after being away for a few hours. They thought the neighbourhood kids were watching for them to leave, and using the pool. However, they could never catch them doing it.

So, they set up their video cam and left. This is what they found out.

If you want the simplest instruction manual about how to live your life, take a lesson from your co-pilot. I think that pretty much says it all. Round and round we go, just choose a ride you love.

Let the Dog Out

2009-10-02T15:58:00.000-07:00

This is my bionic dog, rehabilitated and in full motion. I miss his sleek physique and glossy, soft black coat, but at least I don't have to pick him up anymore. Still, the new door scratching behavior has got to go.

Mis-speak of the Month

2009-10-01T18:40:00.000-07:00

"I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out."

- My nerdy-cool, Canadian astrophysicist friend

The Trouble with Macs

2009-09-28T17:29:00.000-07:00

Finally discovered what's fouling up the works.

(photo reblogged from Frybos.)

Things That Worry Me

2009-09-23T17:58:00.000-07:00

The final entry in my American Heritage Dictionary is zyzzyva, for which there aren't nearly enough relevant tiles in Scrabble, though it's at least a 43 point move. (Damn!)

Does this really mean that the weevil gets the last word?

Addendum: I learned that the highest single word score evah is 360 for quixotry, by a non-expert level tournament player. Read more here.

The Good Book

2009-09-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

Today I was fired from Barnes and Noble because a customer complained that I had stocked Christian Bibles in the fiction section.

(reblogged from One Sentence archive - story #3286)

I've always felt that it's a big mistake on the part of the public school system not to make The Bible a part of the freshman year English curriculum, as they did at my non-denominational private school. Let's face it, those stories are the basis of most of Western literature and art. Sadly, I was bumped back into public school for 9th grade (that was a matter of denomination of the greenback variety), so I missed my Bible primer. Most of my intermittent exposure to Sunday School was spent at the Mormon church, where they focused more attention on a whole other book of mythology.

Which reminds me of a time when I was maybe eight and we were driving to a LDS summer camp. I was deeply engrossed in D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths, which gave rise to great concern amongst the ladies in the VW Bus. They were very sweet about it, but oh what an uproar of ridiculous clucking! I endured their worries for my immortal soul, and somehow suppressed the impulse to roll my eyes. By the way, if any of you true believers out there have any ambitions for your children to attend a decent university, please don't deprive them of exposure to the classics and other belief systems. Keeping them ignorant of history will not assist them in pursuit of a Liberal Arts education.

In any case, I had to wait for Art History classes and Joseph Campbell to really start soaking up Angel Wrestling, Sacrifices of Beloved Sons, Decapitating Bitches, and Loaves and Fishes. Religion is, of course, a matter of faith for some and a matter of choice for others, but I think even many rational Christians can agree that there is some manner of literature on those hallowed pages. Whether God actually wrote it (which I seriously doubt, bereft as it is of consistent poetry, humor & joy), or it's the work of man, its value is not diminished. Whatever the case, B&N can suck it.

The Radiance

2009-09-10T01:11:00.000-07:00

...We sense there is some sort of spirit that loves
birds and animals, and the ants --
perhaps the same one who gave a radiance to you in
your mother's womb.
Is it logical you'd be walking around entirely
orphaned now?
The truth is, you turned away yourself,
and decided to go into the dark alone.
Now you are tangled up in others, and have forgotten
what you once knew
and that is why everything you do has some weird
failure in it.

- Kabir, 13th C (translated by Robert Bly)

"Compassion is the ultimate attitude of wealth:

2009-09-09T22:00:00.000-07:00

an anti-poverty attitude, a war on want. It contains all sorts of heroic, juicy, positive, visionary, expansive qualities. And it implies larger scale thinking, a freer and more expansive way of relating to oneself and the world. It is the attitude that one has been born fundamentally rich rather than that one must become rich."

- Chogyam Trungpa

Beautiful Fox Pass, USA

2009-09-09T00:36:00.000-07:00

We've all been there a time or two. I visit nearly every time I open my mouth.

*(aka faux pas, though in truth, it's a mere spelling mistake, not a true gaffe. Sometimes you have to sacrifice accuracy for a joke or a sign of gratitude.)

Lowering the Bar

2009-08-14T19:55:00.000-07:00

I'm told that part of maturation is acceptance of diminished standards. I will now be satisfied if The President can accomplish what is requested on the pasteboard sign in the photo below. It is, however, the minimum requirement. That and only that.

Waterboarding: The New Facial

2009-04-02T07:32:00.001-07:00

You're right, Miss Universe, it is so "calm and beautiful," but only when they use the Blackwater. You've got that in your home country too, si?

For Bulletholes

2009-03-24T07:37:00.000-07:00

"The way of life is towards fulfillment, however, wherever it may lead. To restore a human being to the current of life means not only to impart self-confidence but also an abiding faith in the processes of life. A man who has confidence in himself must have confidence in others, confidence in the fitness and Tightness of the universe. When a man is thus anchored he ceases to worry about the fitness of things, about the behavior of his fellow-men, about right and wrong and justice and injustice. If his roots are in the current of life he will float on the surface like a lotus and he will blossom and give forth fruit. He will draw his nourishment from above and below; he will send his roots down deeper and deeper, fearing neither the depths nor the heights. The life that's in him will manifest itself in growth, and growth is an endless, eternal process. He will not be afraid of withering, because decay and death are part of growth. As a seed he began and as a seed he will return. Beginnings and endings are only partial steps in the eternal process. The process is everything . . . the way . . . the Tao."

- Henry Miller
Sexus: The Rosy Crucifixion

Live by the Sword

2009-03-20T13:32:00.000-07:00

Hmm, I wonder if he got killed by a drunk driver?

Hometown Boy

2009-03-08T17:01:00.001-07:00

This is how we like to grow 'em where I'm from:

Huckleberry's Fantasy Vacation

2009-03-04T18:41:00.000-08:00

Fish Tale

2009-03-02T14:20:00.000-08:00

Nokia's ad men are either kicking themselves for not thinking up this gimmick themselves, or jumping for joy at what is a humorous, odd, true, and ultimately selling story. I believe it, having recently decided it was time to put my little Sprint phone through the wash. A friend admonished me for including it with the whites, but in any case, after a day and a half drying out from the heat of the oven's pilot light, it works just fine.

My New Personal Assistant

2009-02-24T20:35:00.001-08:00

If I Ever Had to Write a Profile for a Personals Ad or My Epitaph, I Think I'd Use This

2009-02-05T18:55:00.000-08:00

"Nothing is ever lost. If you have moved over vast territories and dared to love silly things, you will have learned even from the most primitive items collected and put aside in your life. From an ever-roaming curiosity in all the arts, from bad radio to good theatre, from nursery rhyme to symphony, from jungle compound to Kafka's Castle, there is basic excellence to be winnowed out, truths found, kept, savored, and used on some later day. To be a child of one's time is to do all these things."

- Ray Bradbury

As You Were

2009-02-04T22:22:00.000-08:00

We see things not as they are,

but as we are.

-The Talmud

Deep Thoughts on Global Warming

2009-01-31T12:39:00.000-08:00

This morning, as I stared at the label on my sparkling water bottle, I wondered, "Will I someday have to pay a carbon tax on club soda, Bubble Up, and Cokes, too? Will it be offset by the deposit I now pay which, in California, is redeemable nowhere even remotely convenient? What about when I exhale all that CO2? If my dog continues farting at his current rate will they fine me for the methane? "

In the future, will the warming be on the label?

Over My Dead Bonnie

2009-01-28T22:54:00.001-08:00

“Couldn’t they at least cast a real actress?"

- Faye Dunaway, regarding “a vicious, vicious, vicious remake of Bonnie and Clyde currently in the works starring Hilary Duff and Kevin Zegers.”

If you've never seen this screen gem, go to it. By the way, is that not one of the hottest photos of Faye you've ever seen? Her wardrobe in the original set off one of the most historically significant fashion trends ever precipitated by a film. Annie Hall was another.

Clyde Barrow & Bonnie Parker, the original duo - not bad lookin', neither.

Perfect Shadows in a Sunshine Day*

2009-01-26T23:13:00.000-08:00

“He tried not to show it, but he felt so inferior. Presley probably innately was the most introverted person that ever came into that studio. He didn’t play with bands. He didn’t go to this little club and pick and grin. All he did was set with his guitar on the side of his bed at home. I don’t think he even played on the front porch.”

— Sam Phillips

*"What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?"
-- Christopher Marlowe

Spot of Ink

2009-01-24T19:55:00.000-08:00

"Ichu was a famous painter and Zen teacher. One day Nambutzu, a great warrior, came to see him and asked whether he could paint the fragrance described in a famous line of poetry: "After walking through the flowers, the horse's hoof is fragrant." Ichu drew a horse's hoof with a butterfly fluttering around it. Then Nambutzu quoted the line, "Spring breeze over the river bank," and asked for a picture of the breeze. Ichu drew a branch of waving willow. Nambutzu cited the famous Zen phrase, "A finger directly pointing to the human mind; see the nature to be Buddha," and asked for a picture of the mind. Ichu picked up the brush and flicked a spot of ink onto Nambutzu's face. Nambutzu was surprised and annoyed; Ichu rapidly sketched his angry face. Nambutzu then asked for a picture of the nature. Ichu broke the brush. Nambutzu didn't understand, and Ichu remarked, "If you haven't got the seeing eye, you can't see it." Nambutzu asked him to take another brush and paint a picture of the nature. Ichu replied, "Show me your nature and I'll paint it." Nambutzu had no words."

- John Daido Loori
The Eight Gates of Zen

Honest Thievery

2009-01-21T18:26:00.000-08:00

Be Strong

2009-01-20T18:24:00.000-08:00

Why Being Serious is Hard

2009-01-19T22:39:00.000-08:00

by Russell Baker

Here is a letter of friendly advice. "Be serious," it says. What it means, of course, is, "Be solemn." The distinction between being serious and being solemn seems to be vanishing among Americans, just as surely as the distinction between "now" and "presently" and the distinction between liberty and making a mess.

Being solemn is easy. Being serious is hard. You probably have to be born serious, or at least go through a very interesting childhood. Children almost always begin by being serious, which is what makes them so entertaining when compared to adults as a class.

Adults, on the whole, are solemn. The transition from seriousness to solemnity occurs in adolescence, a period in which Nature, for reasons of her own, plunges people into foolish frivolity. During this period the organism struggles to regain dignity by recovering childhood's genius for seriousness. It is usually a hopeless cause.

As a result, you have to settle for solemnity. Being solemn has almost nothing to do with being serious, but on the other hand, you can't go on being adolescent forever, unless you are in the performing arts, and anyhow most people can't tell the difference. In fact, though Americans talk a great deal about the virtue of being serious, they generally prefer people who are solemn over people who are serious.

In politics, the rare candidate who is serious, like Adlai Stevenson, is easily overwhelmed by one who is solemn, like General Eisenhower. This is probably because it is hard for most people to recognize seriousness, which is rare, especially in politics, but comfortable to endorse solemnity, which is as commonplace as jogging.

Jogging is solemn. Poker is serious. Once you grasp that distinction, you are on your way to enlightenment. To promote the cause, I submit the following list from which the vital distinction should emerge more clearly.

(1) Shakespeare is serious. David Suskind is solemn.
(2) Chicago is serious. California is solemn.
(3) Blow-dry hair stylings on anchor men for local television shows are solemn. Henry James is serious.
(4) Falling in love, getting married, having children, getting divorced and fighting over who gets the car and the Wedgewood are all serious. The new sexual freedom is solemn.
(5) Playboy is solemn. The New Yorker is serious.
(6) S.J. Perelman is serious. Norman Mailer is solemn.
(7) The Roman Empire was solemn. Periclean Athens was serious.
(8) Arguing about "structured programs" of anything is solemn. So are talking about "utilization," attending conferences on the future of anything, and group bathing when undertaken for the purpose of getting to know yourself better, or at the prescription of a swami. Taking a long walk by yourself during which you devise a foolproof scheme for robbing Cartiers is serious.
(9) Washington is solemn. New York is serious. So is Las Vegas, but Miami Beach is solemn.
(10) Humphrey Bogart movies about private eyes and Randolph Scott movies about gunslingers are serious. Modern movies that are sophisticated jokes about Humphrey Bogart movies and Randolph Scott movies are solemn.

Making lists, of course, is solemn, but this is permissible in newspaper columns, because newspaper columns are solemn. They strive, after all, to reach the mass audience, and the mass audience is solemn, which accounts for the absence of seriousness in television, paperback books found in airport bookracks, the public school systems of America, wholesale furniture outlets, shopping centers and American-made automobiles.

I make no apology for being solemn rather than serious. Nor should anyone else. It is the national attitude. It is perfectly understandable. It is hard to be Periclean Athens. It is hard to be Shakespeare. It is hard to be S.J. Perelman. It is hard to be serious.

And yet, one cannot go on toward eternity without some flimsy attempt at dignity. Adolescence will not do. One must at least make the effort to resume childhood's lost seriousness, and so, with the best of intentions, one tries his best, only to end up being vastly, uninterestingly solemn.

Writing sentences that use "One" as a pronoun is solemn. Making pronouncements on American society is solemn. Turning yourself off when pronouncements threaten to gush is not exactly serious, although it shows a shred of wisdom.

New York Times Magazine [April 30, 1978, p. 17]

Funny is the root of all evil

2009-01-16T09:25:00.000-08:00

Or, more reasons why I love this man:

"you know Joe, it’s not the size of the bible, it’s the motion of the devotion.

...did we just make a bible fuck joke?"

- Jon Stewart on The Daily Show

Little Pink Big Houses for You and Me

2009-01-16T08:53:00.000-08:00

As long as we're on about rap, apparently, DMX is so insecure about his sexuality that the prison pinks he is being forced to wear are rattling his cage. Just tell him what Dorothy Parker said. Darlin', "heterosexuality is not normal, it’s just common."

N.A.S.A.

2009-01-16T08:34:00.001-08:00

...is David Byrne, Chuck D, Seu Jorge (remember him strumming the Bowie covers in Life Aquatic?), Ras Congo and others. Not sure that "money" is the actual "root" of all evil, but the point is well taken. Musically, graphically, I liked this alot, and they even mentioned The Amero! Your art is superb, Shepard Fairey.

.

I know just how Tara feels

2009-01-15T21:46:00.000-08:00

2009-01-15T08:56:00.000-08:00

The truth, said an ancient Chinese master, is neither like this nor like that. It is like a dog yearning over a bowl of burning oil. He can't leave it, because it is too desirable and he can't lick it, because it is too hot.

-Pema Chödron

Why I'm Unfit for Serious Literary Inquiry

2009-01-09T18:51:00.000-08:00

Today my friend Thomas shared with me his favorite utterance from The Belle of Amherst, Emily Dickinson.

Thomas: "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else." Isn't that just amazing? It's so beautiful, I could write an entire film based on that concept alone. And all anyone wants to make movies about in Hollywood anymore is some psychopath who hacks people up.

Me: You know, I just realized, if you break her last name down, it refers to incest.

As long as we're on an R&B kick over here...

2009-01-09T18:05:00.000-08:00

Let's look at some Doo-Wop.* Arlene Smith, founding member of the Chantels, the second successful black "girl group," was 15 when she wrote and recorded "Maybe," which is still considered to be genre definitive. Smith also wrote "He's Gone" and "Every Night (I Pray)." Rolling Stone Magazine called her, "the best female vocalist in the history of Rock 'n Roll." I'm not sure I can place her over Janis Joplin or Aretha, but her voice certainly has the same emotional impact. Somehow, she doesn't even rate a Wikipedia page.

(*Though the first recorded Doo-Wop songs date back to the end of the thirties, notably The Ink Spots' "My Prayer," the term was not applied to define the genre until '61, three years before the end of that era. Still, the term can be heard earlier in the 1955 hit, When You Dance by The Turbans, and the 1956 song In the Still of the Night by The Five Satins. The name comes from the "nonsense syllables" commonly sung in this type of music, possibly from from the onomatopoetic term for vocalizations that mimicked the "doomph" plucking of a double bass, as sung in Count Every Star by The Ravens (1950)

This one's for YOU, Rachel P!

2009-01-09T08:00:00.000-08:00

Just in case this one had slipped from y'alls memories (it's ok, you don't have to thank me, just go drink some cherry wine). Who says drum machines have no soul?

That's How the Fortune Cookie Crumbles

2009-01-03T19:16:00.001-08:00

This is a very entertaining history of Chinese-American food, plus you learn how 110 people came up with the same winning PowerBall number.

New Year's Resolutions

2008-12-29T20:36:00.000-08:00

Here's a clip from The Groundlings (an LA comedy theater), featuring my favorite SNL actress, Kristen Wiig, who is so funny in Knocked Up (passive-aggressive asst. producer), Ghost Town (narcissistic surgeon), and the DVD version of Forgetting Sarah Marshall (apparently she got cut from the theatrical release, but her passive-aggressive yoga teacher is all I remember truly enjoying). Oddly enough, she is a bit outdone here by Melinda Hill.

The Ever Elusive Claus

2008-12-25T10:56:00.000-08:00

done traversing snowy rooftops, was spotted skulking about naughty-nice corporate America in the wee small hours of this morning.

Unfortunately, he declined to comment what the Fed did with those bailout billions. Strange though, he looks oddly gaunt.

Annoying exchange at Enlightened yet intellectually dishonest bookstore

2008-12-24T23:25:00.000-08:00

Namaste, fuckers.

I'm about to be too hard, and I'm sorry about playing the curmudgeon and bah humbugging all over Xmas Eve. But you know this kind of place - the air cloys on incense so exuberantly floral you half expect your Auntie walk over and pinch your cheeks as she demands a sloppy kiss. Likewise, the gilded effigy of Kuan Yin bears too much faux brass to maintain real elegance. The hyper polished rounds of rose quartz and cheap amethyst are relying on support from varnished oak trivets, and while expressing a "gratitude" that is de rigueur for the culture of these stones, such ugliness saps their dignity. There are ill-crafted stained-glass jewelry boxes, gothic rings, crystal skulls, daggers with scalloped edges, and too much velvet in sordid jewel tones and new-age hippie kitsch. Classes and services offered by "initiates" flank the entry - feng shui, auric field clearing and tarot spreads to realign, cleanse and prognosticate.

And I like these things occult. I dig it, man. It's interesting stuff, but there is something seriously amiss with the Wicca and the New Agers. Too flimsy. Too airy-fairy. Too "earthy" without being grounded. I don't know if I've bothered you all with my theories on poor aesthetics and psychological dissonance, but the gist of it is that I inherently distrust the health of religions or other groups whose decor and taste nettle my sensibilities. It's not so superficial as it sounds, as I really believe there are cues in the makeup of constructed things. A woman with crooked lip liner is not sane. A church ostentatiously festooned with bijoux and garish marble is fleecing its flock. A corporation draped in grey flannel and framed in hard edges is unlikely to be a wellspring of creativity. Scientology employees who all seem to dress like Mormon missionaries cannot be both free and "clear." A dude in a trucker hat and two hundred dollar jeans is a douche, even if his music's, like, really really good.

But I am here for books on martial arts and hoping to find a copy of psychologist and Holocaust survivor, Victor Frankl's classic, Man's Search for Meaning, a book which a dear friend claims is the most significant of his life and is considered to be one of the ten most influential in the United States. I have not read it, but with a recommendation like that, it will be difficult for me to ignore. Because my favorite local boutique bookstore is out of the title, and I loathe massive chain stores (my experience at Borders a few hours later is daunting and fraught with dislocation, disorder and disappointment, at best), I have risked the murky aesthetics of The White Lotus, as I'm certain they will have a good selection of Eastern Philosophy, if not much from the academic arm of the Psych disciplines.

Me (to clerk): Do you have Victor Frankl's book, Man's Search for Meaning? I can't find it over here.
Clerk: Who?.
Me: (I repeat the title).
Clerk: Don't know it. (dismissively)
Me: Oh, ok. It's a pretty well known psychology title, but no problem.
Clerk: Who's the author?
Me: Frankl.
Clerk: I really prefer Jung.
Me: Oh, so you've read Frankl?
Clerk: No, but Jung's just so much more... more.. what's the word?

(lonnnnnng pause)

(...and at this point I'm struggling to suggest an adjective for him, or a phrase. Something, some quality that would explain his aversion to a man he's never examined. It's getting uncomfortable for me, because I'm grappling with the fact that he's making a comparison to what is for him a phantom concept. It's completely galling. Don't recall asking for his opinion, yet I'm trying to bridge the gap of comprehension before I despair entirely. What does he mean? He likes Jung's use of mythology? His optimism? His grasp of humanity? Should I tell him I'm familiar? Why is he taking so long? He seems bloated, amused at his "insight," and I don't enjoy the pomposity. I don't even like the word. I dislike that I even wrote the word.)

Clerk: ...esoteric.

YOU KNOW, in SPACE no one can hear you SCREAM.

The word esoteric has, in itself, become a red flag when used in casual conversation. Expressed most often with the guile of nonchalance, it intends to inform the listener of the speaker's knowingness, while simultaneously proving that the speaker in fact knows very little because the meaning is so inscrutable they have actually expressed nothing. Ironically (another red-flag word), in this way the word perpetuates its actual meaning, in spite of the speaker. And so the arcanum remains quite safe from the smugly dumb and the dumbly smug.

Jung was not esoteric, rather he explored and sought to instruct on esoteric matters and with esoteric methods. By trying to shed light on the unconscious realms, he sought to illuminate life's mysteries, with great respect for what is not entirely knowable, not keep them secreted away in ritual halls behind sliding panels and hidden passages. And I don't think he intended for it to be shared with only the select few.

I want to say, "Well good for fucking Jung," a man I quite admire. But I keep my trap shut and my face as unexpressive as possible (not good at this, or so I'm told), not that he's even looking at me.

Clerk: (wait, there's more to this?) ...and SO much more than FREUD.

Me: Sure. Well, yeah, Freud...

Clerk: Freud's just entertaining.

(I want to say: He's just the father of psychoanalysis, that's all. Furthermore, Jung gave his mentor ample credit. I disagree with Freud about certain things, but he was no buffoon. In any case, even though Frankl comes out of the Viennese school, he's not Freud. More importantly, how can you compare Frankl to ANYONE? I thought you'd never even heard of him. You don't know him from Adam.)

Do you really get to have an opinion if you are unfamiliar with someone's work? It's an academic crime, in my view, and probably a form of plagiarism, only worse, because at least with plagiarism, there is some attempt to try to be analytical, logical, it's just that you can't think of your own thing to say on the matter. But in this case you are arrogant enough to think you can put in your two cents, but too lazy to learn the substance of the opinion you are stealing, and too dismissive to think actual knowledge even matters.

And when I asked the guy which of the two books, Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai or Bushido: The Way of the Samurai would be better as a gift for a friend who is investigating martial arts, he starts out by telling me they are very different, and then elaborates by saying one is about the philosophy and the other more anecdotes that show the inner life and rules of the samurai.

Um, so how are they very different?

And then he asks me if my friend is "spiritual by nature." I really hate this sort of question, about as much as the description "old soul," unless of course it's used in a Vanity Fair fluff piece about an actress, in which case it's absurd enough to be vexingly amusing. How does anyone know such things?

Aren't we all, "spiritual by nature" in your very own definition of "being," you pony-tailed, "truth-seeking," amulet wearing poser?

But hey, at least he's all spiritual, and shit.

2008-12-24T12:36:00.001-08:00

Miss You, Baby

2008-12-24T00:49:00.001-08:00

Sin, error, missing the mark

2008-12-23T19:36:00.001-08:00

"Of all the pitfalls in our paths and the tremendous delays and wanderings off the track I want to say that they are not what they seem to be. I want to say that all that seems like fantastic mistakes are not mistakes, all that seems like error is not error; and it all has to be done. That which seems like a false step is the next step."

--Agnes Martin, Writings

Many Tall Pines

2008-12-22T16:18:00.000-08:00

This is called to mind -

"I’ve said that that you sang in the wind,
as the pines and the masts do.
Like them you are tall and taciturn.
And you sadden quickly, as a voyage does."

Pablo Neruda, Poem Number 12

...by a a song I love as much as any of my other favorites. I don't know why I'm putting it here now, except that like so many great country tunes, it stirs echoes of longing, a common experience for me at Christmas Time. So appropriate, it's almost maddening.

Sing it, Emmylou, for that will surely break my heart in two. (You know what I mean, Steve.)

You Can't Blame McDonald's Alone

2008-12-18T16:07:00.000-08:00

Consider the case of John Wilson Webb, just shy of three years and already a whopping 120 lbs. I'm not trying to be mean here, just trying to understand how a toddler can weigh 33% more than a large sack of concrete. I weighed 120 lbs. when I was fourteen, a freshman in high school, and was 5' 8" tall. Someone explain this to me, because I think the doctor must have had his foot on the scale.

2008-12-13T18:42:00.001-08:00

"Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and after some time they thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer."

- Plutarch, Moralia

A thing I wrote about thirteen years ago

2008-12-07T20:36:00.001-08:00

(A silly thing really. What a strange girl I was.)

Tea Time

A Truth about teacups rarely spoken,

the most beautiful are always broken.

Is it the sight of finery

which weakens so the spinery?

Hands quiver, carpets sodden,

porcelains shiver, linens troden.

All things fine are passing,

none is worth amassing.

That's said and done.

Now, please pass a scone.

This reminds me of another "poem" I wrote:

I think that I shall never see

a poem so lovely as it is twee.

Attention Must Be Paid*

2008-12-02T23:29:00.000-08:00

"Attention is love, what we must give
to children, mothers, fathers, pets,
our friends, the news, the woes of others.
What we want to change we curse and then
pick up a tool. Bless whatever you can
with eyes and hands and tongue. If you
can't bless it, get ready to make it new."

- Marge Piercy
The Art of Blessing the Day

(* from Death of a Salesman)

The Best of Craigslist

2008-11-13T19:40:00.000-08:00

It would bw nice if I had two words to rub together, like in the old days, but until such a time as that happens again, I give you this excellent posting from a fella in Detroit. I laughed, I cried.

My women

Date: 2008-08-13, 6:40AM EDT

Laura. You were hot. I was not. You let me fuck you because I was funny. Thank you.

Kim. We smoked a lot of weed and drank all the time. I don't remember much.

Sarah. You were hot. But a total bitch. I could have done better. You treated me like shit. I put up with it because you had a great vagina. Beautiful.

Another Kim. You thought you were smart. You weren't. I was bored.

Charlee. I liked your name and the way it was spelled.

Rachel. You were really sweet and nice. Stop emailing me. It's been fifteen years. It's creeping me out and pissing off my wife. Fucking classmates.com.

Megan. I wanted you since highschool. I was kinda dissapointed when it happened.

Jennifer. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking? You smelled kinda funny too. Your dad was a dick.

Jill. You had HUGE nipples. Couldn't feel a thing though. Shame all that nippleage going to waste.

Michelle. You were a drug addict. You have to be pretty fucked up for me of all people to say that.

Another Megan. I lost your number.

Laura. I did it for the novelty of going out with a girl that I went out with ten years before. You were still hot. I got kinda hot. We were better matched. Thanks again. Sorry I dumped you. You were a shitty tipper. I had no choice. Some handsome and cool shitty tipping guy probably grabbed you. Or some funny wanker.

Another another Megan. I've dated a lot of Megans. This one was no prize.

Debby. You were really smart except you had no self esteem. Be careful or some asshole is going to own you and that would be sad. You're smart and pretty and have great tits. Smaller tits can be awesome too.

Sophia. Liked your name. Liked that you worked out a lot. You seemed nice but you fucked up my credit. User.

Andrea. You had that adorable petit look that I can only call the "Penelope Cruz" look. Too bad you didn't have her personality.

Emily. NOBODY FUCKING CARES YOUR FAMILY IS RICH. You'd be okay if you were not preoccupied with wealth you did not personally aquire.

Dr. Sanderson. You worked to much. You were kinda cold. I thought you were cool though but you are so career motivated you probably did not give a shit about anything else. I got drunk once and thought about asking you to marry me though. I still wonder if you would have.

Elizabeth. You are my wife. My wife is perfect. My life is perfect.

Violet. You are my daughter. When I looked in on you tonight I had that rush of feeling so strong that a shiver went through my whole body and I had to move my hands really quickly to dissipate it's physical effect. Before I met you I was a "kids are no big deal, everyone's got kids and they're not that fucking special" kinda guy. You fucking ruined me. I'm gay for kids now. I love you so much baby.

My unborn 6 month old fetal daughter. If you come out retarded or ugly as shit I'll still love and protect you.

This Takes the Cake

2008-11-03T18:24:00.000-08:00

...and it takes it literally.

The Kooky and The Creepy

2008-10-31T14:11:00.000-07:00

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Ah, Wasilla!

2008-10-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

2008-10-25T14:56:00.000-07:00

“It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious."

- Oscar Wilde

2008-10-24T19:14:00.001-07:00

“ Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

-Mark Twain

Be A Good Jedi

2008-10-22T19:22:00.000-07:00

My old college bf discovered this fellow (and released early tracks by Eminem). Apparently he's making a bid for Prez. Here's his platform. Fairly amusing, really. Hope none of the names dropping clunked you the head.

Bear Hug

2008-10-20T14:55:00.000-07:00

I've brought you down this road before, with a slide show, but check out this video. Sweet as honey:

I think she had wet feet

2008-10-19T14:06:00.000-07:00

Worst Best Man Ever @ Yahoo! Video

It's about people helping people

2008-10-19T14:04:00.000-07:00

eh, Huck?

Truck Tips Other Truck @ Yahoo! Video

2008-10-11T20:05:00.000-07:00

“ Always forgive your enemies - nothing annoys them so much."

Oscar Wilde

Life is a Cabaret

2008-10-09T13:33:00.000-07:00

This is, in effect, the same reason some people don't give money to indigents, cause they'll just spend it on booze.

Am I supposed to be grateful that they decided to cancel their most recent sojourn to the spa-like conditions of the Ritz-Carlton in Half Moon Bay? What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow/
Out of this stony rubbish? Save the last decadence for me, AIG.

Doggedness

2008-10-08T19:04:00.000-07:00

A quick update: The surgery went well, they removed some fibrous tissue and he had some bleeding, enough to make him cold coming out of anesthesia, but not enough to require transfusion. Neuro Doc is optimistic and pleased, and I'll be hearing more tomorrow. Hope the buddy is not too frightened. Actually, he's probably too drugged for that, but you should see how he pants and shivers in the car these days, because he knows it's vet time. I, in the meantime, am dying of consumption. If anyone can send laudanum...

(Not really him, yet exactly how he looked at 4 months. Btw, at 6 months, he was closing in on 90 lbs. Monster. I kid you not.)

A Little Heartbreak

2008-10-08T18:53:00.000-07:00

Someone in the Philippines* found my blog today after Googling this:

what is the point of of loving someone when it will just end in death?

It gave my heart a little twisting ache for them, as I wondered what the story was driving their inquiry.

(*Btw, did you know that the name Philip means "horse-lover"? Phil(os)+Hippo, is how it breaks down. I love that.)

See Duff Run

2008-10-07T09:10:00.000-07:00

After three and a half long months of nursing my lame dog, and endless internal debate over what was best for him and for me, I have a diagnosis and a course of action. I finally sucked it up and took him in for an MRI last week, which showed that his C5 disk is seriously compressed and bulging up into his spinal cord, suppressing neural communication. Not so much that he can't move his legs, but enough that he cannot make the move to stand. Tomorrow at 8 a.m. he goes in for surgery to cut the offending tissue away enough that he will, in all likelihood, be able to walk again. The neurologist is highly optimistic (a conservative 75% chance, she gave it), and when I asked about recovery time (she assures me he will need to be kept still for a time), she answered that it can vary a lot, but she's seen dogs in his situation get up the same day. She also praised me, for she said it was clear I had taken amazing care of him over the summer. This was a tremendous relief, because you can have no idea how I've worried that I wasn't doing right by him, keeping him alive in this state.

She gently admonished me for taking him off the pain meds and steroids (main squeeze vet and I don't agree), but conceded that due to his good care, there was almost no fibrosis or scar tissue, or even much swelling in the area of the trauma, as one might have expected after three months of this. I'm sure that the acupuncture twice a week is largely responsible. The colostrum has probably helped, too. She previously had been concerned that we had waited so long, but the MRI showed that he was in great shape for surgery. My vet subsequently informed me he's relieved we didn't send Duff right away, because he truly believes, given the really poor state Duff was in in June (I mean, the poor guy couldn't even use his bladder), that there is little chance he would have made it through the operation. He says they almost surely would have put him down.

The cost is ridiculous, and would amply carve away a good chunk of debt for me, but I feel completely devoted to this sweet fellow, who has been the best companion I've ever had. We take them in for our own selfish purposes, now don't we? Is is not my responsibility, as well as my desire, to see him provided for as long as he can have a decent standard of life? And, you know, I just love him.

So do me a favor, if you can spare the time, and wish him a little extra luck. It will be good to see him charging up the hill once again. ...And on that beat, he just sat up. You should see how he acted when I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk last week. Sounds cruel, I know, but I had to see where he was at. He raised quite a ruckus, and bludgeoned the mattress with his great otter tail, he was so excited by the notion.

Now Starring as Dr. Doolittle

2008-10-06T19:17:00.000-07:00

Samberg has Wahlberg down pat. I laughed harder the second time.

Justice Is Served con Queso

2008-10-04T08:46:00.000-07:00

Thank God they've preserved the rights of the taco truck, because Los Angeles without the Roach Coach is like New York without pizza by the slice. And all I can say to those whiny local restaurateurs is, if your food isn't good enough to outdo some super greasy carne asada tostada, you got no business staying in business.

Viva Zapata!

Liberal vs. Conservative & A Psychology of Heroism

2008-10-03T09:53:00.000-07:00

Part 1 - Liberal vs Conservative

I can just hear the thundering protest now, and I confess that though I fall in the "liberal" category for the most part*, I felt myself strongly resisting the stereotypes set forth here. In any case, try and relax your knee-jerk reflex and take in the entire presentation, because this ends up being pretty compelling and supportive of both points of view. I'm not convinced you can bifurcate these positions so cleanly, though I concede that Prof. Haidt doesn't have a lot of time here for variations. Still, I can't say I really disagree, but I'd love to hear what you think.

And just so you don't think I'm picking on anyone in particular, which given Haidt's direction to cultivate moral humility, I should not...

Part 2 - A Psychology of Heroism

Here is Philip Zimbardo, Prof. Emeritus at Stanford, famous for the Stanford Prison experiment, on why people of any stripe do good and evil. I found myself questioning him on his participation in that study, which for me falls into the same tangled terrain of "evil." This matter is addressed and wow! what a lovely surprise ending. Be prepared, if you chose to watch, that there are upsetting photos from Abu Ghraib you might not want to see.

"Promote the heroic imagination in kids." Indeed.

(*more by his definition than the bogus dem-rep split.)

Dark Humor Moment

2008-09-30T15:00:00.000-07:00

No need to go all stygian when we refer to the Grim Reaper; I've recently begun calling him The Hearse Whisperer. I think there's serial potential here.

City air makes people free*

2008-09-30T10:08:00.000-07:00

This post is inspired by a recent Bulletholes' offering.

In the late 90s, I read The Geography of Nowhere and Home From Nowhere, by James Howard Kunstler, which greatly informed my understanding of architecture, civic structure and what was dysfunctional about the post-modern blight of our American landscape. These books resonated with what I already felt aesthetically and instinctually. Make no mistake, aesthetics, and more specifically classical architectural conventions, have a functionality that surpasses their joy-giving properties, which is arguably function enough.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a city that was fairly well designed and clearly well-cared for by its denizens. Portland has been a darling of The New Urbanism, for which author James Howard Kunstler is a grumpy cheerleader. Cranky, curmudgeonly, cantankerous, these are words which describe him well. Yet, it's precisely the sort of aggressively opinionated and humorous point of view that made me enjoy his books. There is great value to what he has to say:

"Community, as it once existed in the form of places worth caring about, supported by local economies, has been extirpated by an insidious corporate colonialism that doesn't care about the places from which it extracts its profits or the people subject to its operations. Without the underpinnings of genuine community and its institutions, family life alone cannot bear the burdens and perform all the functions itself." - from Home from Nowhere

A basic principle of classic civic structure is that it has a center - the town square, the public meeting house, a place for people to gather and engage in the discursive functions of a democracy. This is a principle of civic structure, and gives cities strong creative prowess, and principal Aristotle recognized as vital to and defining of a city. In fact, his notion of 'ideal cities,' needed variety and plurality, and intimacy amongst its citizenry, for "they must know each other's characters." Kunstler believes that America is suffering a 'crisis of place.'

You be the judge.

Here is a litany of complaints set forward by Kunstler regarding Modernism and the damage done:

- by divorcing the practice of building from its history and traditional meanings
- by promoting a species of urbanism that destroyed age-old social arrangements and, with them, urban life as a general proposition
-by creating a physical setting for man that failed to respect the lives of other living things and the consumption of natural resources, or to respect the lives of other living things
- by creating a crisis of human habitat -
- cities ruined by corporate gigantism & abstract renewal schemes
- public buildings and spaces unworthy of human affection
- vast sprawling suburbs lacking any sense of community
- housing in which the un-rich cannot afford to live
- slavish obeisance to the needs of automobiles and their dependent industries at the expense of human needs

(*a medieval German maxim. Aristotle said that "men come together in the city to live; they remain there in order to live the good life," but "if it overpasses the bounds of growth, absorbing more people than it can properly house, feed, govern or educate, then it is no longer a city.")

2008-09-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

Blood in the Streets

2008-09-27T13:12:00.001-07:00

“ Think of wall street as a no-good brother-in-law who borrowed $500 from you and then shows up with a new jet ski."

-Jimmy Kimmel

"I picture my epitaph:

2008-09-27T11:12:00.000-07:00

'Here lies Paul Newman, who died a failure because his eyes turned brown.' "

- Paul Newman

(Just a nice Jewish boy, yum.)

It seems my favorite role of his will always be Hud (1963) - heartless, violent, tormented, cold, so

unlike the man he seemed to be in real life, yet qualities he frequently played onscreen, particularly in earlier films. Hud supported Newman's prodigious talent with great writing (adapted from a Larry McMurty novel), an incredible cinematographer (if you are unaware of James Wong Howe, whose career spanned the early silents to the mid 70s, school yourself), and authentic, if bleak, tones not found often enough in the frequent artifice of that period.

Despite the array of losers and assholes he portrayed, I always admired Newman for his wit, his big heart, and his eagerness to play against type. If there ever was a sexier or more physically beautiful man (right till the end), I've never seen him. He inspired one of the dirtiest things I am frequently known to say.

This one will really be missed.