Alpha Doggin'

Now, peep this. Oh, this mortal coil.

Cinematic Insights

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

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

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

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!

...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

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

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

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

The Party Rules

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

A Word for Our Sponsor

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

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

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

The World Wide Web

"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

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

You go, Girly-girl.

Suzanne?

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

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

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