there is water underground.

Some Kind of Rodent

2009-06-25T05:33:00.000-07:00

We all know that movies have dialogue that contains words which can’t be said on television. Hell, George Carlin made a name for himself because of the FCC’s ban of filthy words. The result of said ban is that when movies are broadcast on television, the naughty words are either bleeped out entirely or overdubbed with other, more acceptable words. Recently, upon reading a fantastic book about the making of – and subsequent cult status of – The Big Lebowski, I came to learn that when John Goodman destroys a car using a crowbar and repeatedly screams "This is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass!", the dubbed version claims that “This is what happens when you fight a stranger in the Alps!” In the film's context, this line makes absolutely no sense... of course, one could argue that the whole movie makes little sense, but I'm talking about the Dude here.

In another great slacker movie, the NPH plays a tripping-his-balls-off version of himself. Yep, in Harold and Kumar go to White Castle, Neil Patrick Harris - on the apparent ecstasy trip and looking for a few ladies - says "Forget White Castle, let's go get some pussy!" However, in the TV version, he says “Forget White Castle, let’s go get some privates!” Ironically, this option (if "privates" is interpreted as male soldiers) is more likely to be up the NPH's alley.

Al Pacino has plenty of great lines in Scarface, but one of my favorites is when he's talking about Miami and he says "This town is like a great big pussy just waiting to be fucked!" The TV version is, well... interesting: “This town is like a great big chicken just waiting to be plucked!” I mean, it didn't have to rhyme, fellas...

I love The Usual Suspects. Great story, great acting, and a brilliant twist of an ending. There's a scene when the suspects are placed in a police lineup, and they each have to say the line "Give me the keys, you fucking cocksucker!" But the TV censors, in another curious dubbing effort, inserted “Give me the keys, you fairy godmother!” Verrrrrry scary.

An unfortunate character in the first volume of Kill Bill is the ill-fated Buck, an orderly at the hospital where Uma Thurman is lingering in a coma. Buck, well... Buck's not very nice, and he says "My name is Buck, and I'm here to fuck." The man gets his comeuppance - trust me - but the TV dub is "My name is Buck, and I'm here to party." It has the unintentional effect of being a lot funnier than the original (not that raping a comatose Uma Thurman is funny).

What's up with stoner comedies? In the Dave Chappelle vehicle Half Baked, Bob Saget delivers the line "I used to suck dick for coke." While this is probably true, the TV version replaces "dick" with "feet", and suddenly we're into a whole 'nother ballgame.

Finally, one of my favorite movies is Ghostbusters. Rather than subject his film to overdubbing, director Ivan Reitman chose to completely re-shoot select scenes. One classic scene toward the end of the film occurs after the gentleman from the EPA shuts down the Busters' power grid, causing mass hysteria, the dead rising from the grave, dogs and cats living together... you get the point. It goes like this:

Ray Stantz: "The system was working just fine until the power grid was turned off by Dickless here."
Walter Peck: "They caused an explosion!"
Mayor: "Is this true?"
Peter Venkman: "Yes, it's true. This man has no dick."

The alternate dialogue is as follows:

Ray Stantz: "The system was working just fine until the power grid was turned off by Wally Wick here."
Walter Peck: "They caused an explosion!"
Mayor: "Is this true?"
Peter Venkman: "Yes, your Honor… this man is some kind of rodent, I don't know which."

Don't believe me? See for yourself.

And this one's even better:

I Have Twatted.

2009-06-02T13:50:00.000-07:00

At the behest of my illustrious place of employment, I have joined the ever-growing ranks of Twitter users in the hopes of increasing the awareness of our franchise opportunities. (yep, I’m serious!) I am not sure what to call myself or those other brave souls who use the service. According to the welcome email I received when I signed up, I am now a “Twitter-er.” I think that’s the least creative name that the company could’ve come up with. Obviously they’re not going to call us all “twits” – although one might argue that we are – and they’re not going to call us “tweeters” despite that being the most accurate moniker (each post on Twitter is called a “tweet”). My inclination is to roll with Mr. Stephen Colbert and use “twat” as the verb for posting tweets. But back to what Twitter-ers should actually be called, my vote is for “Twoots.” It has no other definition, and it incorporates the underused-but-awesome word “woot” (or “w00t” depending on your level of nerd-dom)... and in any case, we’re running out of vowels.

We're Number Forty-Nine!

2009-05-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

...out of fifty. That's right, GMAC Insurance gave a test to over five thousand licensed drivers from all fifty states.* From living in New York, Massachusetts, and currently New Jersey, I knew even before reading the article that the Northeast would wind up toward the bottom of the list.

I was right. The esteemed Garden State ranked 49th, just above the state with the worst drivers... New York. Massachusetts ranked highest among the states in which may various automobiles have been licensed, coming in at a whopping 46th place. Those Idahoans and Wisconsinites out there are apparently the smartest drivers, but I attribute this to the fact that they live in states with more cheese & potatoes than the rest of us. There's logic in there somewhere. Anyway, it's an interesting article if you'd like to read it. The kind people at GMAC have also posted the exam for all to attempt. I scored an 85, which betrays my brand-new Jersey plates.

*the District can suck it.

Exercises in Procrastination

2009-04-08T08:50:00.000-07:00

Links that I like:

Have you ever wondered where you’d wind up if you drilled a hole straight through to the other side of the planet? This link can show you (and the answer is often “in the middle of some body of water”). As you move one map, the other map moves as well, so it’s a little trippy to maneuver.

Make sure you have a printer, because this site has “tickets” which you can print and place on poorly parked cars. Living in New Jersey, I print out a lot of tickets.

Whenever you need randomly created jazz scales or dice throws, these will save the day. (In a related story, number of days saved = zero)

There’s a bear who shits prime numbers. The longer you stay on this page, the larger the numbers become (and the more sore the bear’s asshole becomes). One person apparently navigated to this page and then left his computer on for several months. His computer eventually became self-aware and – upon realizing that it was leading a pointless existence – subsequently self-destructed.*

The greatest webcomic ever. It’s the best thing since Calvin & Hobbes. It’s esoteric, funny, perverse, geeky, and heartbreaking.

If you’re planning to travel by plane and you have the option of selecting your seat when you book your ticket, you might want to check out this site. Seating charts for most airlines’ entire fleets are shown, and it’s definitely helped me to choose better seats (especially on longer flights).

Six degrees never tasted so easy.

This game is called GrowCube. There are ten objects which must be placed on the cube in the correct order. Math people know that this means there are over 3.6 million ways to place the objects (there’s a hint somewhere in the users’ comments that gives away the correct order, or just google a solution). It’s pretty weird – the “level up” comments are meaningless, and definitely mute the horrid music – but the ending is pretty cool.

This site will take any words, names, or phrases and find all the possible anagrams for them. Most of the results are pretty stupid, but it’s comforting to know that one anagram for my name is “renewed bran.”

Old episodes of “Celebrity Jeopardy” from SNL can now be found at Will Ferrell’s website. Can you believe that it’s been ten years since “Febtober!”?!? This is my favorite of the bunch, but the one where Burt Reynolds (played by Norm MacDonald) decides that his name is “Turd Ferguson” is also fantastic.

Finally: What happens when sheep herders have far too much time on their hands? ….no, not that. Get your mind out of the gutter.

*this might not be true.

Simplify

2009-03-24T12:34:00.000-07:00

Walden is a place for all seasons, but it carries its beauty best in winter. Last year, I visited the pond in early February on a clear, frigid day. It was completely frozen over, and the lone ice-fisherman in the middle of the pond was a speck on the horizon. I steeled myself and proceeded to walk straight across the pond, knowing that if the ice cracked I was probably screwed. Thankfully that didn’t happen, and by the time I reached the middle the fisherman had headed off to the shore for a break. I was standing alone in the middle of Walden pond. The actual temperature betrayed the clear sky and radiant sun, but I took off my hat and felt the wind freeze my hair. I felt close to nature, as close as one can get within twenty miles of Boston.

In Honor of National Grammar Day

2009-03-04T14:11:00.000-08:00

Our language has over 400,000 words. That’s a lot of words. Many are commonplace, like “sandwich” or “cable.” Many are used very infrequently, like “cloaca” or “subterfuge.” My favorite word is “effervescence” – the only word with five es each separated by two consonants. Words are amazing. And yet, there are some words that – while they are not dirty in and of themselves – well, simply sound dirty. They’re the kind of words that make educated Beavises and Buttheads snicker. Here now is a far-from-complete list of some of the words that just sound dirty.

• Doppelganger
• Mumps
• Finagle
• Mastication
• Spelunker
• Flagella
• Kumquat
• Moist
• Dangling Participle
• Pinochle
• Carpetbagger
• Flugelhorn
• Sloop
• Stimulus
• Package
• Stimulus Package
• Moist Stimulus Package (okay, now we’re getting ridiculous)
• Smorgasbord
• Nebbish
• Plethora
• Thwart

Special thanks are due to Kathy for assistance with this project. And Robin Williams too.

Unclear on the concept of "All You Can Eat."

2008-12-19T19:09:00.000-08:00

Best caption for this photo gets a prize. The actual story behind this is as follows: there is a festival in Japan where sumo wrestlers try to scare babies. The baby who cries the loudest wins a prize. I think the "prize" should be having the parents taken to a field and beaten severely with sacks of potatoes.

Smashy Smashy

2008-09-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

Earlier this month the world’s largest particle accelerator went online in Europe. It consists of a ring of superconducting magnets 17 miles in circumference that must be kept at a few degrees below absolute zero. The magnets are designed to move protons around the ring at speeds approaching the speed of light, eventually smashing the protons into one another. This collision at near-light-speed will hopefully produce evidence of the Higgs Boson, one of the elemental particles of the universe that has been theorized but never observed. It’s amazing that humans have constructed something so immense in order to detect something so minuscule. The Higgs Boson is one of the strangely-named particles (it’s actually not that strange – the scientist who theorized it was named Higgs – but there are particles called the Charm Quark and the Gluon (which has to be the one that makes everything stick together)) that are described as having “colors,” “flavors,” and “direction.” These tiny little particles are thought to be the building blocks for atoms, and therefore they’re supposed to be the most basic things in the universe.

I have no idea what the hell I’m writing about, but I hope that I’m composed primarily of red gluons. Anyway, this experiment – many years and billions of dollars in the making – will hopefully reveal some more details about life, the universe, and everything. I find it interesting that there is a contingent of people out there who believe that when the particle accelerator is brought up to full capacity, it will create miniature black holes and rip the world apart. This notion – other than sounding like a really cool premise for a science fiction movie – seems absurd. But really, what the hell do I know? It’ll probably generate more questions than answers, which is the sign of a good experiment. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll give scientists some insight as to how to start working on beaming technology. But my guess is that we won’t be any closer to knowing why, inexplicably, all day Wednesday you keep thinking it’s Thursday… and Thursday comes and you’re alright again.

Fucking Brilliant.

2008-09-11T15:04:00.000-07:00

Garfield Minus Garfield. It is self-described as a "site dedicated to removing Garfield from the Garfield comic strips in order to reveal the existential angst of Mr. Jon Arbuckle." It's completely bizarre. Without the fat cat or his foils Odie and Nermal, we are thrown into the midst of an unfinished world. And yet it somehow works. It becomes something vastly more interesting and irreverent than the original. Jon is no longer the lonely, bumbling caregiver and provider for his pets. He is downright SCARY. The concept is unique and perfectly executed. See for yourself.

Apparently Jim Davis, the creator of the Garfield comic, is a fan. Ballantine Books is publishing a collection of the "revised" comics later this year; the book is purported to have the original comics side-by-side with the edited versions.

The First Eight Thousand Are Tough. After That, It's Easy.

2008-09-09T08:23:00.000-07:00

Only in this country would someone claim that his obsessive-compulsive disorder led him to the practice of eating at least one Big Mac every day for 36 years. Some dude from Wisconsin (of course) has consumed 23,000 Big Macs since May 1972… and he has the receipts to prove it. Using my handy calculator, there are just over 13,000 days in 36 years. Therefore, it follows that this burger fiend ate 1.75 Big Macs per day on average FOR THIRTY-SIX YEARS. At 29 grams of fat per burger, the guy must resemble an enormous land-bound dugong (or he could be one of those freaks of nature who eats and eats and never gains a pound). It boggles the mind. My favorite part is that he wrote a book about his “achievement.” The book is two hundred pages long. Given that a) he has OCD and b) he ate the same thing every day, one can imagine what a page in the book might look like. My guess:

• July 19, 1983. McDonalds in Wausau WI. Two Big Macs. Tasty.
• July 20, 1983. McDonalds in Wausau WI. One Big Mac. Tasty.
• July 21, 1983. McDonalds in Wausau WI. Three Big Macs. Still tasty!

I think you get the picture. I’m sure that the book (which he apparently typed with one finger) delves into his history and his reasons for the love of the ubiquitous burger. Of course, if it does, then I question the reasoning that his OCD was the cause for his eating accomplishments; it seems that it’s much more likely that the guy is the perfect storm: can’t cook, lazy as shit, addicted to junk food, and really boring. The OCD probably doesn’t help matters much. But my reaction was kinda like this when I heard about the whole thing: “…really???”

Journey at the Center of the Earth

2008-09-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

It's, uh... it's not a typo. They really should have gone with this idea.

My House Used To Be A Crack Den*

2008-09-07T20:58:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's true. I'll explain. Max, Katie and I rehearsed at my place prior to playing a private gig on Saturday night. They came over with their significant others. David, Katie's boyfriend, grew up down the street from where I currently live. Upon entering my apartment (I have the first floor of a house), he told me that when he grew up it used to be a very sketchy place with lots of drug dealers. He was visibly creeped out by being in the house where he saw drug deals taking place many years ago. Times have changed, and I've never seen anything like that in the nearly four years (!) I've lived there - the occasional marijuana smell sometimes wafts over from the neighbors, no big deal - but still, I feel a bit weirded out myself.

*I wanted to call it "House of Crack" and style the posting after the Danielewski book "House of Leaves," but it would've been waaaay too much trouble. Besides, XKCD did the best sendup of that book ever.

Dear Rudy (In Defense of Community Service)

2008-09-05T08:24:00.000-07:00

There are ways to criticize a person and his or her record without denigrating the role that many people proudly take on every day. However, regarding Senator Obama, you said the following at the Republican National Convention: “He worked as a community organizer. What?? Okay, maybe this is the first problem on his resume. …He has never led anything. Nothing. Nada.”

You have implied that community organizers are not men and women of the people. I find it hard to believe that you would stoop so low as to insult citizens with the best intentions, biggest dreams, and – far too often – too few resources. People who want to see improvement in society and are tackling it one problem and one person at a time. People who take it upon themselves to organize, inspire, and lead others. Worst of all, you have implied that someone who does these things is unfit to have a larger leadership role, such as that of President.

To be sure, Senator McCain has endured trials that no person should ever have to experience. He is a good man, and he has given more than his share of service to this country. I don’t think there is a person in either party who would deny that. But to insinuate that the only method of service to one’s country is via the military is to condescend toward the 99% of Americans who are not on active duty or on reserve.

As a New Yorker, I am ashamed that you would consider community service as something to be scoffed at. You of all people should know that a city (which, by definition, is a large community) is only as strong as the people who comprise it. A city is bolstered by the people who do the right thing in times of crisis and in times of peace. A city is only as healthy as the people who work at every level to ensure that streets are safe, parks are clean, schools are respectable, and civility is the norm. You appear to be in contradiction with many of your party supporters who raised their “Service” signs in the rear of the convention hall. You seem to have forgotten your roots as the head of a narcotics unit, and later as the leader of a large city. You seem to have forgotten that people who are involved with their communities often go on to do great things just as often as those with military experience.

So Rudy – if I may call you that, being that I apparently exist at the lowest level of your totem pole (read: someone who aims to improve communities through education) – I have lost what respect I had for you. I have no real quarrel with your attacks on Senator Obama or the Democratic party; this is a political game and I know that mud must be slung, barbs must be leveled, and facts must be altered. But your condemnation of community service is unfair, crass, and beyond reproach. You have disappointed me and insulted many of the people whom I know, work with, and care about. And therefore, I feel justified in leaving you with the words of the late, great George Carlin (another proud New Yorker who did his community service by bringing rays of laughter to the city, I might add): Go fuck yourself. And go Mets.

The World Is Just Awesome

2008-08-13T11:30:00.001-07:00

I don't have my coffee until I get to the office, so my morning routine is exactly that: routine. Although I have no trains to catch or overbearing bosses watching the clock, things happen at generally the same time each day. Once in a while, however, I see something on the way that simply makes me smile. On my way to work, I pass a row of houses on a relatively quiet street. In one of those houses live two elderly women who have to be twin sisters. They've gotta be at least 85 years old. I sometimes see them taking a walk together, arm in arm, dressed in identical clothing, strolling slowly down the sidewalk. That sight brightens my day a little bit.

Oh, and watch this video. Please. My brother showed it to me recently, and, well... it's just incredible. And totally safe for work.

I want to go everywhere in that video (especially the DMZ in Korea). If you want to watch it in high quality, go here and click the link underneath the video feed that says... 'watch in high quality.' (duh) It's such a simple concept, but it's perfectly executed. And the song is beautiful!

List Time!

2008-07-18T14:27:00.000-07:00

These are great single lines from songs. No particular order or theme... just for fun. Feel free to add.

• “It’s just the daily grind to bring the daily bread, I wasn’t born rich – I’m good looking instead” (Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Cowboy Coffee)
• “I don’t have trouble with you fucking me, but I have a little problem with you not fucking me” (Ol' Dirty Bastard, Got Your Money)
• “I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die” (Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues)
• “Some balls are held for charity and some for fancy dress, but when they’re held for pleasure they’re the balls that I like best” (AC/DC, Big Balls)
• “I thought about the army, Dad said ‘Son, you’re fucking high.’” (Ben Folds, Army)
• “All the other girls here are stars, you are the Northern Lights” (Josh Ritter, Kathleen)
• “Girl, I only wanna get with you, only you… and your sister, I think her name’s Debra” (Beck, Debra)
• “I love you like a fat kid loves cake” (50 Cent, 21 Questions)
• “You think you’re so smart but I’ve seen you naked, I’ll probably see you naked again” (Barenaked Ladies, Blame it on Me)
• “Never let me slip ‘cause if I slip then I’m slippin’” (Dr. Dre, Dre Day)
• “That is Bach and it rocks, it’s a rock block of Bach that he learned in the school called the school of hard knocks” (Tenacious D, Rock Your Socks)
• “I absorb trust like a love rhombus, I feel I must elucidate, I ate the chump with guile. Quadrilateral I was, now I warp like a smile” (Soul Coughing, Bus to Beezlebub)
• “Will Smith don’t gotta cuss on his raps to sell records. Well, I do, so fuck him and fuck you too.” (Eminem, The Real Slim Shady)

Boom de Yada!!!!

2008-06-28T08:49:00.000-07:00

Best. Commercial. Ever.

Awesome. Favorite part? Definitely Stephen Hawking. And check out the sendup on XKCD. Obviously there's great admiration there.

Gee, he was just here a minute ago.

2008-06-24T00:44:00.000-07:00

"Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits."

When I was about twelve or thirteen, I remember riding along with the family on one of our road trips. We were listening to a tape (remember those?) of different comedy routines - there were about a dozen comedians in all, each one had about a five-minute excerpt. Some were funny (Bill Cosby) and some were apparently quite dirty (Redd Foxx) and deserved fast-forwarding, much to my disappointment. But the one that stood out in my young mind was a bit called "Wonderful Wino Radio" by George Carlin. In one of his rare no-swearing routines, he portrayed a drunk radio announcer who broadcast his show on a bandwidth "just above the police band." The absurdity stuck with me, and before long I convinced my parents to let me listen to his full albums.

Carlin became a huge influence on my sense of humor. He was a total wiseass and existed to be subversive, but he was never mean (except to people who really pissed him off). Carlin's routines had an even greater impact on my appreciation for the English language and how severely fucked it is. Yeah, he swore a lot (boy, did he!) but it was usually to prove a point. Like when he talked about the aggressive "k" sounds in the words cocksucker and motherfucker as being just as aurally assaulting as the literal meanings. The act of breaking down the swears 1) made it okay to use the swears while talking about them and 2) made the routine that much more intelligent, which in turn made it even funnier. "Tits... such a friendly sounding word! Sounds like a nickname, right?"

He also made light of religion, having been brought up Irish Catholic and - through life, comedy, and a shitload of drugs - eventually questioning the whole idea of faith. If he believed in anything, it was that people, in general, can fuck things up and thereby provide him with an endless source of material for his comedy. Maybe in the end, that proved to be his god; the people of this doomed planet an ever-present wellspring of funny. Or maybe he prayed to Joe Pesci.

More than anything, though - Carlin reminded us that life is pretty damn funny and strange sometimes. As a comedian, he said that his job was "reminding you about the things you forgot to laugh at the first time." He loved the absurd, whether it was little things we all experience but don't really talk about or the wacky ideas he came up with while letting his mind wander (e.g. tissues with bulls-eyes on them). Or how strange it is to see an empty plate in the refrigerator ("Did something eat something else??").

He did a lot with his career - he was the very first host of SNL, he recorded many albums and won Grammys for them, he wrote books, he had stints in movies and even had a short-lived TV show. His HBO specials were the reason to have HBO. He even was the voice of the narrator in the kids' animated series Thomas the Tank Engine. And - like we all knew he would - he became a dirty old man. He was a dirty young man, so why not, right? But it was sad to watch some of his last routines... he could still knock 'em dead with the humor, but he didn't look too healthy. The drugs weren't good to him, and we all knew it was only a matter of time.

And so, as the networks and talk shows are undoubtedly scrambling to compile as much footage as possible for the tributes, real fans of George Carlin feel a twinge of sadness at his passing. But it was his time, and for someone who while still alive was regarded as one of the greatest comedians of all time, his passing will serve to introduce a whole new legion of youth to his material.

So George... thanks for the laughs. And go fuck yourself. You probably would've wanted me to end the post that way.

Spoiler Alert

2008-06-02T08:24:00.000-07:00

I saw the fourth installment of the Indiana Jones series last week. Dear God, I hope it’s the last. A wooden script, a vague and tenuous plot, and an ending that made me think “What the fuck?” If this was the best they could’ve come up with after nineteen years, they really should’ve let the series die a dignified death. The Last Crusade was an amazing movie – not just a great Indy movie, but a great movie – and a satisfying, fitting bookend to one of the most exciting series in movie history. I approached the release of this film with a mix of anticipation and dread: Was I excited that Indiana frickin’ Jones was coming back? Hell yes. Did I believe that the filmmakers would be able to match the awesomeness of the last one? …not really. But you’d best believe that I expected more than this.

The movie opened in a promising fashion. Seeing the opening sequence was kinda fun, and the re-introduction of the Indy character and musical theme was admittedly awesome, but it devolved pretty damn quickly. Surviving a nuclear explosion inside a lead-lined fridge? Yeah. Almost as believable as Cate Blanchett’s horrendous attempt at a Russian accent. I don’t get it – apparently they spent a great deal of time and effort to ensure that the Russian soldiers were authentic, and then they go and find a Brit with a terrible accent to play the Russian with the most lines? Wacky. Also, the pacing was all wrong; I felt like I was watching The Mummy rather than an Indy flick (which is fine if the stars are Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz, but y’know… this is Indiana frickin’ Jones). There was a sense of awe and mysticism present in the first and third movies (not so much in Temple of Doom) that just didn’t exist here… all the films touch on the supernatural, but I just found it very hard to care about this plot. But when Shia LeBeef (I don’t care about the correct spelling – “LeBeef” is funnier) entered the picture as a character named Mutt, I just knew that the screenwriters would be so shortsighted and predictable to make him be Indy’s long-lost son. Sure enough, after the whole escapade he had with the Ark of the Covenant, he probably had a lot of sex with Karen Allen’s character and then left her to go rooting through spiders, snakes, rats, and other ugly beasties to find artifacts and other old things (like his father). So yeah, it’s not too difficult to figure out that Henry Jones Junior’s kid is, well… Mutt. And he’s also a Henry (shocking, I know). But would the screenwriters be so banal and unoriginal as to end the movie with a wedding? Nah… they wouldn’t do that.

Oh… wait. They did. And seeing Indy in a white suit tying the knot was about as natural as an oral bowel movement (yes, I quoted Clerks). Forget the paper-thin plot of a race of alien superbeings who contacted the Mayans thousands of years ago and left them with technology, civilization, crystal artifacts, and herpes (okay, I made that last one up)… and wasn’t that the plot of Alien Vs. Predator? Forget the complete X-Files ending ripoff. Forget the blatant Disney-fication of having Mutt swing on vines with monkeys. Indiana Jones is the guy who sifts through dirt and finds clues and decomposed bodies and ancient tablets, then gets to screw the hottie that’s with him… and then gets to do it all again with different clues and different women in the next movie. He’s like the James bond of adventure movies. Bond works, in part, because the audience never really cares about the fate of the girl. Next movie, same Bond, girl from previous movie is gone (although I could watch Sophie Marceau in every Bond movie and be perfectly happy). Same principle with Indy, and Lucas et al should’ve listened to Sean Connery’s line at the end of Last Crusade: ~~Febtober~~ "Let it go." I’m glad that Connery chose to stay out of this one.

Adding to the movie’s crappiness was the couple sitting behind me. Please realize that I went to see the film directly after work on a Thursday evening, hoping to avoid crowds, children, and rude teens. To my delight, there were only eleven people in the theater when the previews started. And then a couple came and sat directly behind me. Yippee. At least they were Korean, so their semi-whispered conversations during the movie didn’t really register as annoying because I couldn’t understand them. But seriously, the theater had 250 seats. Eleven were taken. Get a clue. And the guy kept burping.

Damn, I'm Old - Redux

2008-05-29T11:43:00.000-07:00

My aunt just sent me a photo via email, and the tone of the message conveyed that she was excited. Opening the message, I saw my cousin Sam standing next to some dude. The last time such photo-sharing occurred, the "dude" was John McCain. This dude was younger (not saying much, I know), probably in his twenties, kinda scruffy and dressed in hipster clothing. I figured that he was someone famous, but I couldn't tell who he was. I asked two colleagues here to look at the photo and if they knew who he was. Both colleagues - intelligent women in their late 20s or early 30s - didn't know either. Sheepishly (yet emboldened by my colleagues' consensus), I asked my aunt who the dude was.

Turns out it was David Cook, recent American Idol champion and heartbreaker extrordinaire. Just goes to show you how far removed from that scene I am.

Trolling Atlantis

2008-05-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

One of my earliest complete memories has to do with my grandfather and his fishing boat. The boat was not docked at a pier; rather, it was tethered to a buoy in the harbor with dozens of other boats. In order to get to the boat, we had to ride on a small dinghy operated by the harbor patrol. To me, this was fascinating – riding on a boat to get to another boat! – and I always loved hopping from the dinghy to my grandfather’s boat. Such an adventure. Everything was much larger then; my grandfather’s boat was probably no more than twenty feet long, but to my five-year-old eyes it was enormous. There was a little space out front with cushions and handrails where I would ride as my father and his father drove the boat out of the harbor and into the sound. For about ten minutes we crawled at the minimum speed allowed by the harbor, gasoline fumes circling the boat until we reached the red & white buoy… and that was my signal. I remember looking back at my grandfather upon reaching that buoy; he would smile back at me and then throttle the powerful engine forward. The early morning water was a flat sheet of glass as it slipped underneath the hull.

We’d fish, sometimes catching bluefish and bass, more often catching nothing at all. We’d eat sandwiches and drink cold soda, and my grandfather would smoke his cigar. I have few memories of him without a cigar, and to this day I think of him whenever I smell cigar smoke. Once, when I was eight and my brother four, we snuck down to the basement in his house and found his cigar box… and proceeded to break all of his cigars into little pieces. Gramps was livid. However, my brother and I were treated to ice cream on the way home courtesy of our father, who was happy that we were concerned for Gramps’ health. Anyway, he would be smoking, and the smell of salty sea air and cigar smoke is a very pleasant memory. Inevitably we would turn off the engine while we ate lunch in order to enjoy the sounds of the sea, and inevitably the engine would fail to start when we were ready to return home. Thankfully the radio was more reliable, and every memory of fishing with my grandfather involves being towed back by the harbor patrol or even the Coast Guard on occasion. It never seemed to bother my grandfather much; he just accepted it and tried to make the best of the situation. Dad would try to fix the damn engine and would always become frustrated when nothing could be done to improve the situation. In any event, we always made our way back to the buoy in the harbor and the little dinghy.

I was recently on a ferry in Long Island Sound and with the wind in my face and the smell of the ocean all around, that memory came rushing back suddenly. I don’t know how these things get etched into the brain and stay there for years and years. I have earlier memories, but they’re mostly brief snapshots and moments in time, vivid though they may be. Perhaps the earliest memory of all is a brief glimpse of my father’s friend’s house; I was apparently playing in the grass and I can still see the white garage door and smell the lush green springtime. But that’s a brief glimpse, not a complete story. The brain is truly amazing – there are people out there who can recall every day of their lives and what they were wearing, what they ate… and then there are people like me, who forget what day it is right now (I think it’s Thursday, but I’m not sure).

Damn, I'm Old

2008-05-15T14:08:00.000-07:00

My cousin Samantha is about to graduate high school; she’ll be attending Duke in the fall. Clearly she’s an idiot. Kidding. But she’s going to college in September. This is mind-blowing to think about. She’s become a real person now, eighteen going on 30, and brighter than many of the people I interview. I remember visiting the hospital the day after she was born and holding her. I remember my aunt bringing her to Schreiber to see the musicals, and for months all she would talk about was Jen or Jason or Michele or Howland (bassists are usually invisible to four-year-olds… come to think of it, we’re pretty invisible to most people). These days, when I visit them in NY, Sam and I have real conversations and real drinks. I met her boyfriend last month. Of course his name is Andrew. Nice kid.

Eighteen years. That’s a long time. I remember babysitting and changing her diapers. I remember playing with her in a swimming pool in Florida during a family vacation, teaching her how to swim. And if she has her way (which she probably will), she’s going to come to Boston this summer for a few weeks and I’m going to teach her how to drive. I won’t do to her what my dad did to me the first time I was behind the wheel (tickling). It’s hard for me to think of her as a college kid, but what’s harder is thinking that I (and chances are from the people who read this, we) were that young and naïve and invincible and so ready for college life.

Putting it in context, when Sam was born, the number one song was “I Can’t Live Without Your Love and Affection” by Nelson. That was also the year of “Vogue”, “Opposites Attract”, and “Ice Ice Baby.” Look how far we’ve come. I enjoyed seeing her go through her music phases; there was the New Kids on the Block-esque phase of Backstreet Boys, N-Sync, and a half dozen other groups who have gone the way of the dodo (but I guarantee that the Backstreet Boys will reunite in ten years, just like NKOTB is doing now). There was the rocker phase… one of my favorite memories is of walking into their apartment and seeing Sam in a Clash t-shirt holding a guitar, trying to wrap her mind and fingers around the chords of a Who song. Hmm… that appears to have been a tangent.

So – to Sam, in your final few weeks of high school, I want to say that I love you, that I’m awfully proud of everything you’ve accomplished, and I’m looking forward to what the future holds. I don’t know how much wisdom I can share with you (I wasn’t all that bright in college, and it’s been a steady downhill ever since), but I’ll try. Make sure you pour your own drinks at the parties. You can skip a class now and then. Always use fake names when filling out credit applications so you can get free t-shirts. Don’t worry about grades too much – if you enjoy what you’re studying, you’ll do fine. Just don’t get arrested or pregnant, and you’ll be okay. And whatever you do, if you find yourself alone with a lacrosse player… run. And if you’re actually reading this, then you need to get out more.

McCain Farms Beets

2008-05-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

Despite a general dislike for our nation's Republican Party, I do respect John McCain. He's been through a lot, he's a much less conservative than Dubya, he's relatively intelligent for a politician, and he's able to crack a joke or two. Now don't get me wrong, I'll vote for Obama when (not if) the time comes, but McCain doesn't seem like that bad of a guy. The other night on The Daily Show, Jon Stewart asked him who his choice for running mate would be, and McCain answered with "Dwight Schrute."

Schrute is the consummate kiss-ass assistant to the regional manager on the only serial TV show I watch regularly, The Office. Awesome show, and being that I'm the only male in my office, I feel like I am different characters on different days. I'd like to say that I'm most like Jim, but his major purpose in the show is to fawn over Pam, and I'm not dating anyone in my office. Stanley is a great character, but I'm not THAT bitter about my job, nor am I black. I'm not as pathetic as Toby, and I'm not as sleazy as Andy. This leaves me with one conclusion: I must be more like Michael Scott. Good intentions, blundering idiot, yet they keep me around. That about sums me up.

Black cat crossed in front of me right as I left home this morning. Hmm. If this is my last post, Aubrey gets custody of the site.

Party of One

2008-05-02T07:41:00.000-07:00

There's something to be said for being stuck in traffic when you're not in any particular rush to be anywhere. It's a kind of helpless ennui, but not altogether unpleasant (unless you really have to pee) and it allows your mind to wander. This happened to me in Boston recently; I was traversing the city during rush hour in a rainstorm and found myself in several standstills. My mind wandered from topic to topic, mostly disregarding the radio - that is, until those timeless words were uttered: "Oh... my... God. Becky, look at her butt."

That phrase brought me right out of the mind-wandering; I turned the volume up and rapped along with Sir Mix-a-lot all the way through. Being stuck in traffic, however, my mind did start to roam again during the song, and I realized a few things: First, there were probably several hundred cars in the traffic jam. Second, being that there are actually very few decent radio stations in Boston, there were bound to be a bunch of people rapping along with me and Mix-a-lot. Therefore, there came a point the other night when, through no particular coincidence or cosmic event, a few dozen people in my immediate vicinity enthusiastically and unbeknownst to each other sang the line "My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hon!" That thought (not to mention that we all more than likely did the whipcrack after saying that line) got me laughing. Hard.

...there's really no point to this.

Oops.

2008-02-26T13:38:00.000-08:00

This is kinda fun. Maxim Magazine reviewed the Black Crowes’ recent album Warpaint and did not give it a very positive review. The reviewer gave the album 2.5 stars out of a possible five and stated that “it hasn’t left (singer) Chris Robinson and the gang much room for growth.”

One problem: The reviewer hadn’t heard the album.

That’s right. The band has not yet released any advanced copies of Warpaint (due out March 4) for the press to review; they’ve only released one song which can be downloaded/stolen as a single. Now, I’m not a huge fan of the Black Crowes, and I haven’t paid any attention to them since their first album Shake Your Money Maker (Remember She Talks to Angels? That’s a beauty). I’m actually surprised that they’re still recording; I was sorta under the impression that they just live underneath the Beacon Theatre in NYC, popping up to play a concert whenever they run out of pot. But this is some nerve on Maxim’s part. The band is pissed, and they have every reason to be pissed. Imagine if your boss gave you a crappy performance review but s/he hadn’t even seen any of the work you’d done! Maxim is no NY Times or Paste, but it’s still read by lots of people with disposable income who like the rock & roll (and Maxim does appear to have more boobies).

Not cool on Maxim’s part. To make matters worse, the official apology was also stale and unsatisfying: “it is our editorial policy to assign star ratings only to those albums that have been heard in their entirety. Unfortunately that policy was not followed in the March 2008 issue of our magazine and we apologize to our readers.” Yeah, we screwed up, whatcha gonna do about it, huh? Maxim went on to say that they “always prefer to hearing music [sic], but sometimes there are big albums that we don’t want to ignore and that aren’t available to hear. It’s either an educated guess preview or no coverage at all, so in this case we chose the former.”

So let me get this right… it’s commonplace for “journalists” to write about stuff they haven’t heard/seen/experienced? Huh. That’s news to me. Something tells me that the Maxim writers are spending too much time “reading” Hustler.

Of course, this little snafu makes me wonder what else has been reviewed without having been heard first. The movie Dogma comes to mind – there were nationwide protests from hardcore Christian groups before the movie was ever screened (and on opening night, Kevin Smith joined one – he brought a banner that read “Dogma is Dogshit”). It also poses an interesting question: What else can we review prematurely? Maybe Indiana Jones & The Kingdom of the Crystal ~~Balls~~ Skull should be reviewed based on the minute-long preview I saw on the internet (or maybe based on the title alone). Based on absolutely nothing, let’s have a critique of the new Al Green album, due out in the spring. (actually, I can’t wait for that to drop – it’s being produced by ?uestlove from the Roots, and that’s a cool combination). I’ve got a good one – based on this stellar standard of journalism displayed by the music reviewer, I’m giving the whole of Maxim Magazine zero stars… and that’s an educated guess.

CSC&J

2008-02-23T23:06:00.000-08:00

Burning question: What do Bill Cosby, Beverly Sills, Johnny Cash, and Carl Jung have in common?

...nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet, this is so, so brilliant.

I Did It All For The Cookie

2008-02-18T07:27:00.000-08:00

What's better than Sesame Street? Sesame Street on NPR! (side note: while typing the word "Street," I accidentally typed "Streep" and then thought about how awful it would have been for Meryl to name her child "Sesame.") My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard while watching this clip.

Thank you Kate. I save you crumb.

Sweet Promotion

2008-02-15T12:40:00.000-08:00

Didja hear? The makers of the crazy-addictive Guitar Hero game are coming out with the ultimate pander: an Aerosmith-specific version of the game. I guess I'm not really that surprised; they are the top-selling band in this country and have been around since before I was born (and Steven Tyler? ugly back then, ugly now). However, at some point in their more recent history they became irrelevant. Sure, their music has always been full of cheesy lines and cliche phrases, but Permanent Vacation? Great album. Toys in the Attic? Great album. Pump? Frickin' awesome.

Pump came out in October 1989, the perfect time for a nearly-12-year-old kid to start listening to that kind of stuff. It was loud, fun, and suggestive. As I entered high school, I bought all of their previous CDs (and tapes! remember those?) and I distinctly remember going with Jay, Mike, and phil to their concert at Jones Beach (putting it in context, the opening band was 4 Non Blondes).

It took a while for the band to release their next album - actually it took over four years. The band had ridden the success of Pump very far, making it all the way to Wayne's basement. Expectations for the new album were high. When it was released, Get A Grip, lived up to its initials: GAG. The music was not that great, but by that time every teenage boy was drooling so much over Liv Tyler and Alicia Silverstone - the stars of Aerosmith's music videos from GAG (when MTV played videos, sigh) - that the music didn't matter so much. By the way, how is it possible that she came from his seed? I don't get it.

Unfortunately, the band stopped mattering so much as well. They sunk deeper and deeper into ballads, cheese-rock and faux blues, reaching their nadir when they recorded "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" for the dreadful Armageddon. Inexplicably, that was their very first #1 hit. They've been riding on those coattails ever since, releasing a couple of duds and yet popping up everywhere there's a chance to shamelessly promote themselves. And when I say "themselves," I really mean "Steven Tyler and Joe Perry." The rest of the guys seemingly couldn't give a shit.

So their evolution has taken them to this latest mutation. What a coup for Activision and Aerosmith, huh? Last year, people dropped one billion dollars on Guitar Hero. One Billion. Aerosmith has sold 65 million records. You do the math; they're gonna make a whole lot of dough from this.

How do I feel? Well, if the game eventually winds up turning more people on to music and getting more kids to take up actual instruments, then I'm all for it. But Activision - don't stop with Aerosmith. Get some Zep in there. Get some Who in there. Even some Santana. They obviously have to start mainstream. I'm waiting for a niche company to make a jazz version (let those kids fuck with some Charlie Hunter or maybe some Tommy Emmanuel and see what happens), or for some speed-metal company to kick it up a notch and do DragonForce. But what I really think is this: If I play a game that involves playing instruments (kinda) - and I have 20+ years of experience playing ACTUAL instruments - and I am not as good as Matt Engel, then it's a stupid fucking game. Scroll to 20:22; QED.

By the way, it seems that I've been beaten to the punch.

All Your Bass Are Belong To Me.

2008-02-14T06:14:00.001-08:00

I think Scarlett approves of the new acoustic-electric.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T my Seniority!

2008-02-13T20:42:00.000-08:00

Aretha Franklin pulled a hissy fit today when she heard something that Beyonce said. Beyonce introduced Tina Turner at the recent Grammy awards (which, by the way, I was unable to watch live because Comcast likes giving its customers the shaft) by saying: "Ladies and gentlemen, stand on your feet... and give it up for the queen!" Aretha didn't like that so much.

Okay, everyone knows that Aretha is the Queen of Soul. Just like James was the Godfather of Soul. And Elvis was the King and Springsteen is the Boss and Michael Bolton is the Ass Clown. But Aretha needs to chill out a little. Maybe Beyonce really reveres Tina as her idol (that seems to have worked out well for Beyonce). Maybe Beyonce wanted to give a killer performance (which she did) and have one of the most influential people in the history of music up there on stage with her. Someone who could keep up with her. I ask you - could Aretha have danced and sang the way Tina did? Something tells me that she couldn't. At 65, Aretha is on the verge of exploding in her own shoes, whereas at 69, Tina looks and dances like she's Beyonce's older sister. Well, maybe not that young. But still - she's pushing 70, and damned if she doesn't have the moves.

Or maybe, just maybe, the writers chose to call Tina a queen because 1) she deserves it and 2) she has been referred to as the "Queen of Rock & Roll." They didn't call her the Queen of Soul. They chose to call her a queen. And she's amazing in her own right.

Now don't get me wrong - I love me some Aretha. She might justifiably hold that "Queen of Soul" title. She's done plenty with her life and yes, I have plenty of, uh... respect for her. She had 18 number one R&B hits. She was the first black woman to be on the cover of Time. She has received honorary doctorates from several universities, awards from two US presidents, and is the youngest person to ever receive a Kennedy Center Honor. She's even in my favorite movie. But she's definitely had her moments. Jason and I saw Aretha Franklin perform at one of those "Divas Live" concerts in NYC's Radio City Music Hall several years ago. First of all, she forgot the names of the six guys in the jazz group she performed with on that stage... guys like Herbie Hancock, Russell Malone, and Roy Haynes. She also left Stevie Wonder hanging by himself (not that the man couldn't hold his own; his unannounced performance was by far the greatest moment of that night). And at one point after Nelly Furtado sang her tribute and left the stage, both Jason and I wondered if Aretha had eaten Ms. Furtado backstage. Aretha has definitely become large, as the Onion astutely pointed out in this teaser - no article was even necessary. It might also be worth mentioning that her god-daughter (some chick named Whitney Houston) called Bobby Brown the "King of R&B." We all know that 'sanity' and 'Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown' are seldom seen in the same sentence.

Aretha - you're still the Queen of Soul. Tina can be a queen too, perhaps even the Queen of Rock & Roll. Don't think for one second, however, that you're the Queen of All That Is Music. Show some generosity toward your contemporary; you're both royalty. Now if only we could find someone to take that "Prince" title...

What's In A Name?

2008-01-28T17:47:00.000-08:00

I kinda forgot how much fun this was. It's like I played an album dozens of times and got sick of it, shelved it for a while... and then came back to it a few months later.

Anyways, seems the scientific community has to get its kicks somehow. It was announced today that a new species of beetle was named for Roy Orbison because (and I'm quoting here) "it almost looks like it's wearing a tuxedo."

Sure, okay. Gotta love it, right?

This got me thinking (and considering my most recent post, it seemed obvious that some 'twaining' was in order). I started wondering what other celebrities had their names associated with animal species, and what the reasoning was. My first thought took me back to the Far Side, one of the bestest cartoons ever - I vaguely recalled reading somewhere that Gary Larson had something named after him. Turns out I was right (and the scientists loooove the Far Side); there's a biting louse named after him. Lice aren't really the prettiest creatures around, but he said "I considered this an extreme honor. Besides, I knew no one was going to write and ask to name a new species of swan after me. You have to grab these opportunities when they come along."

So I started doing some "research" today... and I found out some interesting stuff.

1. Each member of the Beatles has a species of (you guessed it) beetle named after him. These beetles apparently look a little "shaggy" and therefore have the mop-top look. Kind of a stretch.

2. Not to be outdone, each member of the Ramones, the Rolling Stones, and the Sex Pistols also has a beetle species named for him. Same dude from the Beatles' beetles did the naming. Never let it be said that geeks have bad taste in music.

3. While doing field work, a paleological team was listening to the Dire Straits while unearthing fossils, so they named a species of dinosaur Masiakasaurus Knopfleri. That's pretty awesome.

4. Agathidium Bushi, Agathidium Cheneyi, Agathidium Rumsfeldi. Slime mold beetles. No kidding.

5. The mite species Funkotriplogynium Iagobadius is named for none other than "Iago Badium," Latin (?) for "James Brown." Come to think of it, the name sounds like it should be a P-Funk album.

6. Don't know why Laurel and Hardy have cicadas named after them, but they do (Baeturia Laureli & Baeturia Hardyi). Guess you can't choose what your fans study.

7. There's a moth species that - as part of its wing coloration - appears to have a second head. Go figure that it's called Erechthias Beeblebroxi. (lost? this guy has two heads.)

8. This is my favorite. There's a wasp that - as a larva - manipulates its host animal to giving it more nutrients. It's called Metallichneumon Neurospatarchus... that second word apparently translates to "Master of Puppets." Nice.

9. Dicrotendipes Thanatogratus is a roach. Thanato = dead (Greek), Gratus = thankful (Latin)... is it kinda ironic that there's a roach named for the band most associated with smoking pot? Anyone? ...Bueller?

This kind of stuff gives me warm fuzzies. All these scientists, knowing that only a handful of people will ever see the names they give these species (and even fewer will care or get the references). The geeks shall inherit.

"Twaining"

2008-01-27T23:42:00.000-08:00

Huh. Been a while.

So I’ve been thinking: there are several rules about monster movies that one should always keep in mind when viewing – or perhaps acting in – such a film. The ones I’ve noticed are as follows:

1. If you get bitten by a creature, you won’t make it. Period.
2. The more attractive you are, the better your chances of survival… but note that your chances of dying in spectacularly gruesome fashion (relative to the chance of dying from ordinary monster carnage) increase exponentially.
a. Corollary: If you’re attractive but are a bitch/asshole, you’re gonna die and it’s gonna be nasty.
3. When given the choice of taking a tunnel or a bridge to escape New York, take a bridge.
a. Corollary: If the monster is really large, consider taking a tunnel. Large monsters like attacking bridges.
4. It’s okay to break the law when necessary.
5. Your phone/car/whatever might work, but no one else’s phone/car/whatever will. Be prepared to defend your phone/car/whatever.
6. Small monsters want to get inside you. Large monsters want to get you inside them.
a. Corollary: If you have a monster inside you, kill yourself.
i. Subset: If you are incapable of killing yourself (whether due to physical reasons or due to being a wuss), it is acceptable to ask another cast member to kill you.
7. If someone asks you if you’re a god, you say “yes.”
8. Injuries that might kill a minor cast member (e.g. impaling, helicopter crashes) will not kill the stars.
9. If you are in love with another cast member, s/he will die. If you’re lucky, you might die together.
10. If you have a brother/sister/parent/aunt/uncle/relative/best friend and they have a smaller role in the movie, they’re gonna die.
a. Corollary: If you are protecting a child/niece/nephew/adoptee/dog/future leader, you’ll probably make it.
11. No one who needs to be rescued ever lives on the first floor.

And in case you’re wondering what the heck “Twaining” means (and no, it’s not Elmer Fudd talking about kiddie bike wheels), Mark Twain once said: “Why put off until tomorrow that which you can just as easily put off until the day after tomorrow?” So… there you go. My new term for procrastination. Twaining. Yippee.

This is gonna be fun.

2007-10-30T13:49:00.000-07:00

A quote from Dennis Kucinich:

"I seriously believe we have to start asking questions about [George Bush's] mental health. There's something wrong. He does not seem to understand his words have real impact. There's a lot of people who need care. He might be one of them. If there isn't something wrong with him, then there's something wrong with us. This, to me, is a very serious question."

Wait till the talk shows get a hold of that shit. That is grade-A comedy material right there.

To David Ovens: Thanks for all the tacos! Love, Jacoby Ellsbury

2007-10-29T01:47:00.000-07:00

Is there anything more precious than a very young child presenting you with a gift? Not really. I mean, a six-year-old who has taken the time to pick something out or, if you're really lucky, make something for you... that's pretty special. Wanna know what my cousin gave me?

A Red Sox hat. That's right, I've lived here for nearly five (!) years, and so it was decided that I should own some team paraphernalia. I have a shirt, but it's in Japanese (of course it is!) and I have it more for the visual factor of the kanji than the Sox fandom. But a Boston hat is the ubiquitous chapeau of the Red Sox fan's wardrobe, and I can now be counted among said fans. I tried it on, and I immediately felt the longing for a Fenway Frank and some Sam Adams. I felt the frat-boy rambunctiousness welling up inside me, and I had to fight hard to resist the urge to run through Kenmore Square chanting "Yankees suck!" while climbing lightpoles and flipping cars.

Alright, so some of that may not be true. And although I like wearing hats about as much as I like being punched in the nose, it was a very sweet gift, and you can be damn sure that I rooted for the Sox and I was very happy when they won. There are instances, however, where this rooting for the Sox will cease and I will don blue and orange. Yes, I am a fan of the Mets, will always be. Even while living in Boston and Chicago, the Mets were my team. In the beginning of September, I was really, really hoping that the red-hot Mets would wind up in the World Series against the Sox for a rematch of the historic 1986 series (and we all know what happened and where I was). I would've proudly strolled down Yawkey Way with a Mets jersey despite the dirty looks and eggs thrown my way. But then, the worst collapse in baseball history occurred, and the Mets gave new meaning to the term "suck." As the ever-so-politically-incorrect website tshirthell.com put it, Ya Gotta Bereave. But there's always next year, and one can hope, hm?

But anyway, Jacoby Ellsbury, the rookie center fielder for the Red Sox has the dubious honor of being "the guy who won free tacos for America." Yes, if you visit a Taco Bell today between 2 and 5 PM, you can "steal" a taco just as Ellsbury stole second base in game 2 of the World Series. That was the inevitable conclusion of Taco Bell marketing chairman David Ovens' deal with major league baseball; the question was who would be the one to steal a base and provide 'sustenance' for the nation? (in quotes because Taco Bell doesn't really count as food) I really wanted David Ortiz to be the base-stealer. Obviously it wouldn't happen; the man has a bum leg, and even on a good day it would take him three minutes to reach first. But you never know (and hey, wouldn't that have been a coup for Taco Bell? Name a taco after Big Papi? It's a perfect name for a taco-esque product, don't you agree?). And while the games were being played in Colorado, it might've been possible for Daisuke to have stolen a base, leading to a Japanese take on the taco (note: asking for "taco" in Japan will result in your being served octopus. When I first went there, my host family told me that it was "taco night" and I had a very different picture of what they meant).

The funny thing about being in Boston right now is that the big story is not that the Sox won the World Series, but that the undefeated Patriots are destroying other pro teams by dozens of points. To make things more interesting, they're playing the undefeated Colts on Sunday, and the media is hailing this matchup as bigger than anything... including the World Series. Personally I'd like to see the Pats win, but it's more out of a thorough dislike for Peyton Manning than anything else (also, it's fun to root for someone named "Bruschi"). And one final thought: Rooting for the underdog, always fun... so let's go J-E-T-S.

The Little Things

2007-10-15T11:18:00.000-07:00

- I saw a Budweiser truck being followed by a Bud Light truck, and my first thought was shouldn't the Bud Light truck be smaller? ...And in front? ...you know, 'cause it's lighter?

- There was a woman in Brooklyn who went to the bathroom in her apartment in the middle of the night and found a seven-foot snake curled up in her toilet. She found the snake after she had peed.

- There need to be more laser shows with cool bands providing the music. Rock out to Laser Gomez! Laser Bosstones! Or how about Laser Weezer?! (shit, I can't even say that without laughing)

- Both times that I have seen Rodrigo y Gabriela, there has been a lesbian couple directly in front of me making out the entire show.

- There's a dude who "runs" the second-largest chapter of the KKK who, according to USA Today (the preferred newspaper of business hotels), "hates with a passion." There's also a photo, and he appears to be the perfect example of why some species eat their young.

- "Only The Good Die Young" is a very strange song to hear at a Catholic wedding.

- At the moment I passed "Rock Street" in Saratoga Springs, "Thunder Road" by Bruce Springsteen came on the radio and I thought it was very appropriate.

- There's something satisfying about being able to read the lips of the person in the car behind you as she sings Biz Markie (Oh baby yooooou, you got what I neeeeed). Obviously we were at a stoplight.

- I had two dreams last night. One was a dream where the Red Sox won the ALCS. One was a dream where they lost the ALCS. Given that I fell asleep during the seventh inning last night, when I awoke I was really confused about which team had prevailed.

- I noticed a sign that was misspelled on the way to work last week, and I called the number to let the company know (Lynne Truss would be proud). This morning, I noticed that it had been corrected! ...I'm such a nerd.

- I think Singapore Airlines is encouraging people to join the mile-high club. Their brand-new plane (the fully double-decker Airbus A380) has first-class suites in which the seat actually becomes a bed and you can close yourself off for privacy. If you're in the center of the plane, you can slide the partition back and the two neighboring suites can become one large suite... and one large bed.

I Didn't Even Have To Use My AK

2007-10-12T06:57:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a good day. It began when Mike sent me a text containing a single word: THROWDOWN.

I've known Mike for a long time. However, the word "throwdown" has only occasionally come up in conversation. On those occasions, it refers to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' Hometown Throwdown, a series of five concerts in five nights at a club in Boston. Before the band broke up several years ago, the Throwdown was an annual event. Mike loves the Bosstones. He introduced me to their music, and as a result I too love their music. When I lived in NY I saw them a few times (once with the Dropkick Murphys, which was unreal), but I never had the chance to see them here. So when I read that text, and knowing Mike, my thoughts immediately were as follows:

Bosstones reunion? No fucking way. Can't be.

Turns out my intuitions were correct - the 'Tones are reuniting this December for the first Hometown Throwdown in about five years. And they're doing it at the Middle East, one of the best places to see concerts in Boston. Mike will be flying out here for at least one of the shows. He has his plane tickets already, much to the chagrin of his understanding wife. If you've been reading his blog, you'll know that Mike is going to be a dad soon... "soon" meaning early December. I'm super excited to see him and to go to the concert too.

Yesterday evening was just as much fun. My band played down at Felt, one of the swankier clubs in Boston. Even though we went on very late by Thursday night standards (11:45, and in a city where public transportation stops running at 12:30), we still had a good crowd and a dynamite set. I know it was the most comfortable performance that I've given, and everyone else was on fire as well. It might've had something to do with the shirt that Bryan handmade for me (seriously cool that Bryan started a t-shirt company), but it was probably the fact that the musicians in the band are just awesome. I've gotten to the point where I'm comfortable enough with my own part to shift my attention to everyone else and really enjoy the sound of the group as a whole. And it definitely had a lot to with the crowd; we have our faithful who came out in the rain to support us on a late night.

On the drive home, I was wired and felt the need to listen to James Brown at high volumes. It was a surreal drive - at 1:00AM the roads are empty, and the skies above Boston were dramatic and roiled following the huge rainstorm. Flash lightning illuminated the wet streets, and it invigorated me... I felt like I was driving through some sort of tinted alternate universe. All in all, a very fine day.

Good Thing I Don't Drive A Hummer.

2007-10-09T05:52:00.000-07:00

There's something fantastic about waking up to a beautiful fall day, crisp and in the mid-fifties, and turning on your car stereo to a killer set of songs. First they played Sir Duke, followed by Jessica, followed by U Can't Touch This. Brilliant.

There's also something embarrassing about the following conversation. See if you can pick it out.

Car Dealership: Service Department, how can we help you?
Me: Yes, I recently ordered a new tire rim for a Forester and wanted to see if it had arrived yet.
CD: Hold a minute... yes, it just arrived yesterday afternoon.
Me: Great. Can I set up an appointment to have it installed?
CD: Sure - how about tomorrow at 2?
Me: Sounds good.
CD: Okay. Name?
Me: Andrew Berne.
CD: Okay Mr. Berne, you're all set for a rim job at 2PM tomorrow.
Me: (stifling laughter) Thanks.

The Music's Never Loud Enough

2007-10-07T00:41:00.000-07:00

Few things inspire me more than good music played passionately. The past two nights at the Somerville Theatre were filled with said music courtesy of Josh Ritter, who over the past few years has become one of my favorite artists. I first saw him out in western Massachusetts in a small auditorium on a double bill with Hem (and my thoughts on Hem can be summarized here); I had gone out there to see Hem but left with a newfound appreciation for Josh. Since then I've started to learn some of his music and have made the effort to see his shows whenever he comes to town. So imagine my delight when I got front row seats for Thursday's show!

Josh's genuine excitement and glee at having the opportunity to perform his music for us was obvious; it's one of the reasons I enjoy watching his concerts so much. Yes, the music's great, but he also has so much fun playing it! And from a vantage point of just a few feet, I was enveloped by the sound of ten musicians. Josh brought his band (bass, drums, keys, guitar) and a full horn section much to my delight. He said it perfectly during his banter with the audience - "I've always thought it would be cool to have horns... and it is." His new album is a much more cacophonic (?) record than his previous ones have been, lots of horns and bells and whistles, but it doesn't take away from the songwriting and the listener can still hear the acoustic roots. He began the night alone, with the delicate "Moons," before launching full throttle into "Rumors," both from his latest. When he sang "my orchestra is gigantic, this thing could sink the Titanic," the others on stage responded with that much more intensity and played louder; it almost seemed like Josh was challenging them as he sang about the music never being loud enough. I wanted to be swallowed up by the sound.

Whatever bout of madness inspired him to write "To The Dogs Or Whoever" is a malady I'd pay dearly to get even a tenth of. The first song off his new album, it sets the tone for the listener and lets you know that Josh is one talented songwriter who might actually be as crazy as he is intelligent. The song seemed even faster and more driven in concert; he must have some set of pipes in order to pull that off as his third number and still have seventeen left. Over half of the show was songs from the new album, but he reached back to his previous The Animal Years for the next four numbers. Settling in a bit, "Good Man" was excellent; as the horn players left the stage, Josh's playing became less raucous and more refined. This song is the shell of a sprawling epic and I love listening to it. He really dug in and his voice was grittier than on the album; I could hear a whole lot of Springsteen and perhaps even a little Tom Waits in there. "Wolves" was another delight - the chorus of "so long, so high" seemed to resonate in the theatre and in my mind long after the show had ended.

More musicians left the stage. Only Josh and his pianist remained, and the crowd was amazingly silent as they played the elegant "Here at the Right Time." Josh's guitar barely a whisper, a simple progression providing the backdrop for some of the best lyrics out there. Then he launched into "Monster Ballads," the first song from The Animal Years that I learned to play. As the song went on, his band slowly returned to the stage and completed the sound. I love this song, even if it took me a long time to understand what the hell the chorus meant. Full of imagery and stories of travels in Egypt. He provides only slightly more details in his songs than Mark Sandman did in his Morphine days; there's so much left to the imagination. I like that; he puts his trust and faith in the listeners.

With his band back in full swing, he launched into "Harrisburg" from The Golden Age Of Radio, which I consider to be his best album (all of them are really masterpieces, but this one stands a little higher than the rest). He gave it a much harder feel, with the band coming in heavily on the first beat of the second measure of the verse... the fifth beat, and it coincides with the word "fifth" in the lyrics... okay, I'm a nerd, but deep down I think that was Josh's intention as well. He gave it the Springsteen treatment again - I know, I keep making that comparison, but it's accurate - and it was a gritty interpretation that really worked.

"The Temptation of Adam" has grown on me. When I first heard it on his solo acoustic tour last year, I wasn't a big fan, but the story and the lyrics have worked their way in. He played it alone, another demonstration of the way in which he started his career. "Naked as a Window" was a surprise - many people hadn't heard the bonus track - but then he played "Girl In the War" and nailed it. I've never heard it with so much urgency and poignancy. There's a moment - "her eyes are like champagne" - that destroys me when the band crashes in on the second syllable of 'champagne.'

The horns returned for "Mind's Eye" and also for "Right Moves," which would probably be the single off this new album. Far too catchy to remain out of the mainstream for long. "Still Beating" is another delicate one that sounded excellent, and the full band brought "Empty Heart" to another level - everyone in the room stood for the song and the chorus "don't let me into this year with an empty heart" became a mantra. Of course, his closer was the sublime "Kathleen," which contains my favorite lyric in all of music: all the other girls here are stars, you are the northern lights. He could've stopped there and it still would be better than most songs, but it became a hit a few years ago and is always a highlight of the shows. I thought the random free-form story he told in the middle of the song was a bit much, but then he finished the song and I have no idea what the story was about anymore.

He left the stage to thunderous applause, and came right back out (which is great; I hate it when artists take a long time to do that) to play "Lawrence, KS," which is one of my favorites. A clip can be found on Modern Acoustic, a treasure of a site which I recently discovered. But then... calling on some reserve of energy, he played "The River" by Bruce Springsteen. He played it without any amplification to either his voice or his guitar, away from any microphones... and the audience (still standing) was captivated. I glanced back out at the audience - mouths were agape, some eyes wet. Anyone who wasn't a believer before was now converted. It was one of the most moving musical moments of my life. There are no words.

The horns joined for "Real Long Distance" and went to town; the song sounded that much larger after what had just transpired. It seemed like Josh relaxed a little after playing that previous number and was able to let loose a bit more. Finally, the opening act Old School Freight Train joined him for the last number "Next to the Last Romantic," and what a scene. It was a true hoedown - mandolin, violin, lots of guitar (geetar?) - and it was a great sendoff for the night. Everyone left happy.

There are very few artists out there whom I would compare to Tom Waits, or whom I would see two nights in a row, or who would spend three hours after every show talking with fans. Josh Ritter is that talented and also that giving. I had the opportunity to meet him once; we talked about music and traveling and the good stuff. I can't emphasize how much his music has influenced me - I think I'm in the right place at the right time to hear it and learn it, and I try to bring others into the fold when I can.

Get Your Jew On(line), Redux

2007-09-24T12:54:00.000-07:00

So I recently "attended" Kol Nidre services by watching the first-ever broadcast of such a service online. Glad I did it; not something I'd choose to do again.

I think the part that amazed me was how many people logged on and from where. One person watched from Pondicherry, India. Another watched from the Czech Republic. And there I was, from Malden. There were apparently tens of thousands of people watching, and not all of them were Jewish. One of the purposes of this offering was to educate non-Jews about what goes on during a Kol Nidre service. Isn't that great? Opening up the synagogue doors - in an unobtrusive way - to the rest of the world. Pretty cool in my book.

There were a few issues, however. The technical ones first - the "full screen" option did not work, so viewers were relegated to watching a small video feed (think YouTube size). I got used to it, but it still was tough on the eyes. Also, unless a viewer had a prayerbook, there was no way to follow along with the rabbi; the words were not broadcast onscreen. The music is something that over the years has been ingrained into my head, so I had no trouble remembering the tunes... can't say the same for the words. Aside from those, very smooth job - good use of varied camera positions and excellent sound quality.

My only real issue with the broadcast was that the rabbi seemed to be... how can I say this... an idiot. First, he didn't acknowledge the congregation at all. The day is a somber one, true, but a word or two to welcome the people in the temple would have been nice. Forget about those viewing from their computers; the rabbi didn't even say 'good evening' to his own congregation.

Additionally, I found myself disgusted with his sermon. He spoke of how there needs to be a rejuvenation of Jewish life and activism in our communities, and that's fine, but he specifically said that "let's face it, the only places it will happen are New York and Los Angeles." (yes, I took some notes and that's a quote) Now it's true that those two cities have huge Jewish populations, and they are the hubs for a lot of Jewish thinking and social activism. But I'll be feshnickened if Boston doesn't hold its own, if Chicago doesn't have a share, if Houston doesn't have a thriving Jewish community. And Washington DC! And Philly! Hell, even Minneapolis is the hub for one of the major Jewish organizations. And hello, Florida?? For the rabbi to have said what he did basically insulted the other pockets of Judaism in the country and said "if you're not in NY or LA, you don't matter." Additionally, he said it when tens of thousands of people around the world were watching. Many of these people do not live in New York or LA, I presume that many wanted to get involved somehow and perhaps this night was the first of many steps toward taking some sort of action in their communities. Yom Kippur is not a time of exclusion, and it struck me as extraordinarily insensitive.

He then went on to say that other religions and ethnic groups have "declared war on the Torah" and that people of different religions who marry and raise their kids in a secular household "should not be counted as Jews." That's some pretty harsh shit, and that's when I stopped watching. I don't feel bad at all; the sermon is usually the last part of the service aside from a prayer or two at the end. But I was dumbstruck - here he was, the first to lead one of the more progressive Jewish experiences ever, and he came across as a blundering fool. It's strange to have that feeling and think that the guy was an idiot while simultaneously "attending" the service on the day of forgiveness and repentance... but what can I say? That's how I felt.

But the real reason why I'd never do this again is that the feeling of awe that comes over me when I'm in a huge room with many others never happened. At all. The feeling of 'congregation' in the true sense of the word - not in the "people from all over the world are watching" sense - is apparently very integral to my temple experience. There's just something indescribable about it. Under the suits and dresses and makeup and hair gel that seem so important to the high holy days, there's a human aspect that transcends any religion. In any case - it was an experience that I'm glad I partook of, but next year it's back to the synagogue and back to the congregation. And anyway, it's so much better when the four-year-old shouting about his penis is actually sitting right behind you.

Get Your Jew On(line)

2007-09-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

Tonight the Wilshire Boulevard Temple - Los Angeles' oldest synagogue - will make history and set a precedent by being the first temple to broadcast its Kol Nidre service over the internet. I'm going to watch and listen.

I've been thinking about it all day. I could attend a service at the synagogue down the street (at a hefty cost b/c I'm not a congregation member), or I could make the trek into Cambridge and pretend to be a Harvard student in order to get into the Hillel, or I could try something new. After much consideration, I decided that it's worth it to me to give this a shot (and besides, if I'm trying to be inscribed in the book of life, it might not look too good if I'm impersonating a Harvard student and 'sneaking' into Hillel).

There are already bloggers going back and forth about whether this is a bad idea. One rabbi (yes, they blog too) said that this is "truly a sad day for Judaism." I respectfully disagree. In my mind, this is a use of technology that positively benefits the Jewish community by bringing those who would otherwise be unable to attend services into the fold. There are undoubtedly thousands of people out there who, for whatever reason, cannot get to temple tonight. Perhaps illness prevents them from leaving the house. Perhaps they live in a remote area and cannot feasibly get to a temple; there are many Jews who are walking to temple tonight rather than driving, so that stipulation puts increased pressure on those who are far from temples.

The devil's advocate in me argues that because I am healthy and have a temple near me, I should take advantage of my ability to leave my home and go to temple. A solid point. But this opportunity fascinates me. I want to see if I feel the same way I do when I'm in temple and I hear the music of the high holy days.

Part of the reason that I go to temple on the major holidays is because the experience of being in a room with thousands of other people, knowing that at that very moment there are many more doing the same all over the world, is awesome in the original sense of that word. I feel like I owe it to myself to see what would happen if I were to place myself in a solitary place (my apartment) but still be connected to the greater Jewish community. It'll obviously be very different, but I want to see & feel what it's like. Maybe I'll learn something about my perceptions of temple and what "congregation" means; the only Kol Nidre services I've ever been to have been at the Port Washington Community Synagogue (and services at college weren't very convincing; the Jewish organizations had to rent out seminar rooms at the student center).

I don't need a minyan to feel a sense of awe. I would feel out of place by myself at an unfamiliar temple, and besides, I feel there's something strange about synagogues charging non-members $150 for a reserved seat ($80 for "balcony"). This is a time of atonement and prayer, not a Springsteen concert. Most of all, though - I'm just really curious. I'm going to take it as seriously as I would a Kol Nidre service back in Port Washington - I will not have any distractions, I will put on formal clothing, I will follow along with the prayers, and I will fast tomorrow. And at this point, I'm thoroughly looking forward to tonight's service.

Whether it's a good experience or a bad one, it will be an experience. Keeping one's mind open to new ideas seems to be a very important part of Judaism anyway - think of the orange on the Seder plate, the Torah study groups that happen every week (how amazing is it that a book written thousands of years ago is still being discussed and debated?), and references to ourselves as "the Chosen People" are diminishing in the face of maintaining Jewish integrity without demeaning others - so this new use of technology does not really surprise me. In fact, my only source of surprise is that it hasn't been done before.

Meditation

2007-09-18T14:18:00.001-07:00

There's a moment in every Rosh Hashanah service where the congregation reflects in silent meditation. It's not a long time - perhaps two minutes or so - but a room of two thousand people tacitly reading or praying to themselves is truly an amazing thing. To me, it transcends the experience of going to temple (which increasingly seems like a fashion show intertwined with a competition of who can arrive early to get the "good seats") and makes it into something greater, larger than ourselves, and that might be the whole purpose. This year, it was something even more. While the whole room was quietly praying, the four-year old sitting directly behind me decided that right then was the best time to shout: "My penis is too big!"

Not even the most serious, introspective Jews within earshot could stop laughing. It was a perfect moment. This kid is destined to have stellar comedic timing (and given that he's Jewish, he has a decent shot at show business).

Anyway, happy new year to all. May we all find some happiness, joy, love, and decent sushi restaurants. And if, at this time next year, your only complaint is that you're packing too much meat, definitely let everyone in temple know. Loudly.

Death Cab for Hootie?

2007-09-03T22:04:00.001-07:00

As Raz pointed out this morning, a recent study was done on the life expectancy of rock stars. Lo and behold, it turns out that (gasp!) they are "more likely than other people to die before reaching old age." The shock! The incredulity! The report went so far as to say this:

"In the music industry, factors such as stress, changes from popularity to obscurity, and exposure to environments where alcohol and drugs are easily available, can all contribute to substance use as well as other self-destructive behaviors."

Are they for real? In this case, the they is The Journal of Epidemial Community Health, and I had to look up what "epidemial" means (and neither Merriam nor Webster knew). Really, rock stars die young, huh? Stop the fuckin' presses. This needs to be heard worldwide! Especially by Janis Jopl... oh wait. Tell Jimi Hendr... damn. Somebody call Kurt Cob... shit!

They needed a study to figure this out. That's the part that kills me. As Raz pointed out, it's like those studies that tell us that kids who watch too much TV and don't get enough exercise are fat. This is what happens when grant money is spent by people with nothing better to do. How the deuce will this benefit any of us "normal" people who comprise 99.993% of the population? Ooooh, look honey, rock stars die young! Let's not name our child Dweezil like we'd originally planned! Crikey. Did the study say anything about how it's only the good artists that seem to die young, whether it's by drugs, alcohol, guns, or airplane/helicopter crashes? There's a study that I'd love to know about - why are Stevie Ray Vaughan, John Lennon, Tupac Shakur, Elliot Smith and Jeff Buckley dead, but Vanilla Ice, Yngwie Malmsteen, and Ringo still alive? (I kid Ringo... someone has to) As I'm typing this, I realize that I might be subconsciously recalling a Chris Rock routine where he says similar things about how only the good rappers get shot. No points for originality today, Berne. D'oh!

Speaking of studies, apparently one-fifth of Americans can't locate the US on a world map. Nothing shocking about this; I actually thought it was more like one-third. But did anyone catch Miss Teen South Carolina's answer to the question about this topic? The questioner stated that above fact, and then asked her "Why do you think this is?" It was perhaps the most mind-blowingly inane, fucktarded (love that word) answer to a question ever. YouTube it if you'd like, but here's the transcript:

"I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because...ah some...people out there in our nation don't have maps and...ah...I believe that eh-education such as in South Africa and the Iraq everywhere like such as. I believe that they should....our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S. or-or should help south Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future for our gen..."

One good point about this so-called explanation is that it ended. Another good point was that I kinda like the use of "US Americans" to describe citizens of the USA. It makes sense, and it's certainly a whole lot less egotistical than referring to ourselves as "Americans" when there are 22 other countries in North, South, and Central America. But otherwise, this girl needs some serious help. Yeah, our kids are stupid when it comes to geography because they don't have maps. And they can't look up stuff on the internets either. She also ended a sentence with "like such as." This poor, poor girl. Good thing she's hot, or else she'd never be able to get her own reality show (it hasn't happened yet, but I'd wager that there's a contingent at Fox licking their collective chops).

So the moral? Thank heaven that the school year is beginning - let's hope that teachers start using maps... if they can find any.

Thursday Morning, 3 AM

2007-08-23T03:02:00.000-07:00

This might be the most random post ever, but what can you expect on a Wednesday night (actually, a very early Thursday morning)?

First things first - get the dirty thought out of my head. We ordered Chinese food for a big meeting at the office today, and one of the dishes was called "Double Happiness." Now I don't know about you, but I was mighty disappointed. My idea of double happiness lies somewhere between Scarlett Johansson and Maggie Gyllenhaal, certainly not among the shrimp and scallops sauteed in a delicate Szechuan sauce. Imagine my disappointment. (sigh)

And with the 2:30 AM television nearby, I just saw a few commercials that I've never seen before. These three, in a row.

1) Petco is advertising clothing for pets with the tagline "your pets know when they look good." Really? Pet clothing? Seriously? As if pet owners don't have enough to spend money on already. Food, health, cleaning supplies for when the dog shits on the carpet... the pets primp themselves; do they really need to be pimped ? (a-thank you, a-thank you very much)

2) Zwinky. Apparently it's more fun to create an online personality and send him to a virtual party where he can chat with other virtual chicks and get virtually rejected than to get off your ass, go to a real party, and actually get rejected.

3) Pills for restless leg syndrome. Side effects include nausea, diarrhea, drowsiness, headaches, stomachaches, disorientation, and decreased libido. But your legs will be fine. Really, restless leg syndrome? Are drug companies coming up with this shit so that they can make people scared that they have these disorders and then buy the drugs? I'm waiting for a pill that makes me forget all the drug commercials. But it'll probably give me the diabetes.

This is a great picture, courtesy of cute overload:

And I saw a concert in a planetarium the other night. One of my favorite musicians - Josh Ritter - played a surprise show at the Museum of Science for 100 people, and a few people from the mailing list were chosen to attend. Lucked out. I've been a fan for a few years now, but this concert definitely was a highlight. Great music, full horn section, inside a planetarium. The acoustics inside were kinda funky - but not bad, especially on the quieter tunes. But his new album is more rockin' than his others, so some of the tunes really sounded raucous, especially with horns. And yes, there was a light show. I also got to meet the guy after the show - spent about ten minutes talking with him. Very gracious guy, lots of energy and passion for what he does, and truly appreciative of his fans. One of the better shows I've ever seen was a concert in western Mass, when Hem opened for Josh. We chatted about that show, our mutual appreciation for Hem, and our love of redheads, and I got to ask him about one of his lyrics. Good times.

Totally not tired. Almost 3AM. Dammit. At least I figured out a title for the post that also paraphrases Paul Simon. But I'm still not tired. What's a dude to do? What would the Dude do? The Dude would probably make himself a drink. The Dude abides. I'd be a great Dude. (sudden epiphany - puts on The Big Lebowski) Ahh. Much better. If I can't sleep, then I'm gonna watch the Coen brothers destroy Steve Buscemi yet again.

A Man Can Be Cured Of Every Folly But Vanity.

2007-08-07T19:27:00.001-07:00

Some people do creative things while in Maine. Take Josh Ritter, for example. Great musician; he wrote a wonderful album while spending some time in a remote area of the state. Another example might be Andrew Wyeth, a great painter who spent his summers there and created such masterpieces as Christina's World.

I was in Maine today, and due to a rescheduled meeting, I spent quite some time aimlessly driving around in the surprisingly cool summer morning fog. It dawned on me that while some people come to Maine to truly be creative (see above), there are many more who live there and only think they're being creative. I say this because of the exponential number of vanity plates that I observed today.

It must be a Maine thing. Seriously, I have never seen so many vanity plates, and I have done a shitload of driving. Been to Maine a few times and I've noticed it before, but this time I kept a notepad with me. So - here are some, uh... northern creations:

PLASTCS - must be a fan of the Graduate
LUVMNMS - didn't get a look at the driver, but if you love M&Ms enough to mention it on your license plate, then... damn.
DMX 420 - I really hoped this was going to be some pot-smokin' rap-lovin' dude, but it turned out to be an older couple. Must've been a coincidence.
2FAST4U - on a minivan. No kidding.
MOMSCAR - Sure, whatever. Mom doesn't drive a fucking Hummer.
DKDKGOOS - Gotta be a kindergarten teacher. Or a hunter.
HIHOAG - This took me a while. I knew that it had to be a vanity plate, but I couldn't figure it out. As coincidence would have it, later on in the day I found myself looking at a periodic table. AG = Silver. What a nerd.
And, of course:
LOBSTAH - the driver must've killed someone to get this plate.

Now, I wasn't actually behind the wheel in Maine for that long. About two, maybe two and a half hours tops - and I was up there at the crack of dawn so there weren't that many people on the road for a good hour. Additionally, these are about one-third of the plates I noticed. Craziness. Guess there's something in the water (something in the lobster?) up there.

I'd love to find some statistics on vanity plates, like which states have more per capita, or what some of the funniest plates are. Never gave much thought to it - I don't know what I'd put on mine (something to do with bass, maybe?) - what is it that makes people want to have a vanity plate (other than vanity itself)? It's kinda like a tattoo for your car - more permanent than a bumper sticker, and there's definitely some thought that goes into creating a statement about you that can be expressed in seven or eight letters/numbers.

There's All Kinds Of Redheaded Women I Ain't Supposed To Kiss.

2007-07-24T01:17:00.000-07:00

I just returned from the White Stripes concert, and I have officially been rocked. My ears just got laid. When their last album - Get Behind Me Satan - was released two years ago, most reviews were full of deserved praise. Rolling Stone got it right, though:

"If you're in a rock band right now, and you're not in the White Stripes, it so sucks to be you."

This statement basically sets the tone for the following that the Stripes have built. They have their own rules, they think about both music and its dissemination in novel ways (they released their latest album Icky Thump on a USB drive), and they destroy all you know about rock, punk, blues, and theatrics. And there's only two of 'em.

The Stripes are a duo - Jack and Meg White - whose sound might be described as stripped-down-yet-heavy, or powerful and raw... but honestly, they're unclassifiable. Jack plays guitar and sings, while Meg pounds away at the drums. That's the formula that has worked for a decade. On their latest albums, they still keep it simple, but they incorporate such instruments as banjo, piano, trumpet, bagpipes... so as I looked forward to the show, I thought they've gotta have one or two other people on stage to help 'em out, right?

Boy, was I wrong.

Jack and Meg - brother and sister, husband and wife, whatever you want to believe - have masterful chemistry on stage.* What's more, they don't need anyone but each other to have a good time and bring the house down completely. They looked larger than life, both dressed completely in tight red clothing (Meg with tight black jeans) against a backdrop of red curtains and shiny amplifiers. Two of the rules that Jack set for the group when they started out was that they would adhere to a strict color scheme - only red, white, and black - and that they would never use backing tracks to supplement their live shows (I found that out later).

First, Jack: He's a cross between Mick Jagger, Robert Plant, Keith Richards, and a little Elvis thrown in to boot. He makes up for more than half of the energy on stage, sometimes singing directly to the audience, sometimes singing right at Meg into the microphone placed in front of her drumset. As a guitarist, the man has chops. Managing to tread a fine line between sweet, fat distorted blues/rock and complete & utter feedback-filled destruction, he rarely paused for a moment before launching into the next song or into a tight back-and-forth jam with Meg. He has swagger, bad posture, the ability to strut... all the right moves that make for a good rock star.

And Meg. I am so in love with Meg. She makes up for a lot more than half of the energy on stage. First, she is an incredibly solid drummer. Listen to any of their recordings, and she's right on target. Same deal in concert, which - when there's no bassist to keep you in check - has got to be demanding. She carries it off, and she does it with style. And attitude. And sexiness. Jack starts walking toward her, she cocks her head and straightens up a little bit. He wails on the guitar, she tosses her hair and pushes her drumset a little harder. Once in a while she'd throw in a backing vocal (loose usage; her 'vocals' were either barely heard harmonies or barely contained yelps), but she was the true master on stage, keeping the show steady and solid.

Tonight was a showcase of what they've achieved and how far deep into the roots of rock and blues they actually delve. On several songs, Jack would stand by the piano, playing a few notes with his left hand while keeping a steady, thumping open-string undercurrent on his guitar with his right. Most of the time, though, it was just the guitar and drums... sinuous, sometimes sinister guitar lines (Icky Thump, Seven Nation Army), sometimes rollicking blues (Rag and Bone), sometimes straightforward ear-splitting rock (300 m.p.h. Torrential Outpour Blues). Meg's drums vibrated through every seat in the house - not that it mattered; the audience was on its feet the entire show - and we all knew that yes, she was the one who reined Jack in and kept him in line with her snare. I honestly don't know how much she was miked - I mean, she did have a full array of microphones in & around her drumset, but I was pretty close and I could tell that those drums took a severe beating.

If you're an astute reader, you might have noticed that I said that Meg and Jack each account for more than half of the energy on stage. How is this possible? Well, for a duo to completely bring the house down, they have to create something that is more than the sum of its parts. The White Stripes sound like a full band - I didn't care that there was no bassist (and that's saying a lot, all things considered) - no strings, no horns, no whistles and bells, just big meaty drumbeats and overdriven guitar. Simple and elegant. And huge. Ten feet tall on stage, they filled the arena with their sheer determination to play the crap out of their instruments.

*They used to be married. Now they're divorced, but they keep up the whole "brother and sister" thing just to screw with people.

FOLLOW-UP: The Boston Globe reviewed the concert too. I think my review is better (but I am biased). Either way, we both used the word "meaty" to describe Meg's drumming. Rock & roll.

More Than Meets The Eye (sorry, couldn't think of a good title)

2007-07-05T05:47:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed the recent Independence Day holiday. Not because I was down along Boston's esplanade to watch the fireworks spectacular (didn't need to go, been there & done that; plus I'm not a huge fan of crowds and this year over 500,000 people went in the rain), not because I wore red, white, and blue (trust me, I didn't), but because I saw the long-awaited Transformers movie.

As a kid, my life was the Transformers from about age 5 through age 9. I had lots of the toys and I watched the cartoon often, and when the animated movie was released in 1986 I was absolutely thrilled. Of course, at the time I didn't appreciate the star quality of the people who provided the voices - Leonard Nimoy, Eric Idle, Casey Kasem, and Orson Welles(!) in his final movie role - but looking back, it was a pretty big deal. Recent viewings show just how weird it actually was, and the creators must've been on some huge drug trip when they wrote the script.

Anyway, those were the 'generation one' Transformers. As I grew out of the toy phase, subsequent legions of kids were introduced to newer robots and names like Optimus Prime became oudated, almost forgotten. But leave it to the nerds (thank heavens for nerds) to bring 'em all back in a live-action, heavy-on-the-CGI film. Yes, the new version is a Michael Bay movie (he of the 'Armageddon' and 'Pearl Harbor' fame). Yes, much of the robots have been updated to have a more modern feel (Bumblebee is no longer a Volkswagen Beetle - he's a bitchin' Camaro). But y'know what? The movie was fun. And I learned a lot. Here are some Things That I Learned this July 4.

- If you're going to leave your seven-year-olds alone to see a movie, make sure it's not rated PG-13. There were unaccompanied kids all over the theatre (including, of course, a couple of 'em right behind me). This movie has lots of images that might frighten the crap out of a little kid. It also contains plenty of swearing, as well as references to (and use of the word) masturbation. I don't really care, but the movie theatre is an odd time for a 'birds & the bees lesson' for your seven-year-old. (especially when the unaccompanied kids behind me were talking amongst themselves about what they thought masturbation was) Additionally, Megan Fox is seriously hot (I would've told Bumblebee to either take a hike or turn into a station wagon with a mattress in the back). She's also a pretty good actress. The movie, however, made her into a tramp/slut/trollop... hooray for hollywood.

- Michael Bay can't resist the bad lines. Jesus, some of the dialogue was terrible. Now, I wasn't expecting Shakespeare. It's a movie about robots fighting each other, not about Darfur. But seriously, "all I want is to hold my baby girl for the first time"? Sheesh. Michael Bay will always be a shitty director. However, there were a few bad lines that - thanks to Shia LeBouf (or however the fuck you spell his name) - were really funny because the audience knew that they were references to the old cartoons. I won't spoil 'em.

- No matter what you say, Optimus Prime saying "eBay" is fucking hysterical.

- The choice to cast Hugo Weaving as Megatron was brilliant. He has one of the best voices in movies, ever. Can you imagine anyone else saying "Mr. Anderson" in the Matrix? His voice is simply perfect for villainy. (is that a word?) Also, he was in one of the best movies of last year - V for Vendetta - and you never really saw his face... all you heard was that voice.

- Freedom is the right of all sentient beings.

- The word 'biotch' is inherently funny. Additionally, the more exaggerated the pronunciation, the funnier it gets. However, when it's literally hanging in front of you and it's totally ignored by the actors, it's terribly, terribly funny.

- There's a scene during the climactic battle between Optimus and Megatron that made me laugh big time. They're fighting on top of a building, they fall down to street level with a big crash. Now, there are people around who are trying to escape the fight scene, but one poor woman finds herself near Megatron when he lands. He flicks her away with his finger, and she makes a resounding 'thump' as she hits a nearby car. I thought this was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. The scene is almost a throwaway - it lasts for literally one second - and yet it's one of the most vivid 'violence toward random humans' scenes in the movie. So the shock value is great. Apparently, robot flicking random woman into car = funny; who knew?

Happy 4th, everyone. (makes transforming noise; turns into Jennifer Love Hewitt's bra*)

*Other things I considered for that last line:
- A non-procrastinating member of the workforce
- Shakira's dildo (that's a great band name!!)
- Your mom

Hem with the Boston Pops, June 26

2007-07-02T05:26:00.000-07:00

Onstage, Hem referred to their show with the Boston Pops as a 'dream collaboration.' How incredibly appropriate.

The sound of an orchestra tuning their instruments brings back many memories for me. Every day of high school (and many days of elementary & junior high) began with music, so the pleasure of that cacophony is deeply ingrained into my head. I remember vividly standing with the other bassists... here at Symphony Hall, there were six bassists, all with extender keys on their instruments. I was fortunate enough to have had a seat at a table in the fifth row, center orchestra, so I could clearly see nearly everything that transpired onstage.

Keith Lockhart, the lively conductor of the Pops, emerged at a few minutes past eight to a warm round of applause. Without a word, he launched the orchestra into a medley of songs from West Side Story, replete with hand snaps and brash brass. It was evident that all the players were enjoying themselves, but I was especially entertained by the percussionists. There were three of them darting about in the back of the orchestra playing everything from chimes to congas, and they were obviously having a blast. (side note: i've often wondered how percussionists learn their art... "okay class, welcome to advanced triangle. this is for people who have completed their triangle 101 class, anyone else who has not yet mastered the instrument please leave."... or so i imagine)

The next piece was a world premiere from a young composer, Nico Muhly, who has studied at Juilliard and has had great successes all over the country. He was present to introduce his piece, which was... interesting. The inspiration for the piece came from his days of watching older, hand-drawn cartoons depicting far-off places, and he said something that stuck with me: "It must be a lonely business to draw somewhere you've never been." The piece (entitled "Wish You Were Here" and completely unrelated to Pink Floyd) had an undercurrent of melancholy scales, ebbing and flowing between the violas and cellos. Juxtaposed with that pattern was an exciting, jarring mix of brass and percussion sounds. The piece seemed to build several times, and the audience expected resolutions, but they never came. Perhaps that was part of the tension that Muhly intended us to hear, and if so then it worked exceedingly well. While it certainly didn't rank among the symphonies of Beethoven, Muhly's work received a standing ovation (and considering that he is 25 years old and wrote the piece in under two months, it's one hell of an accomplishment).

The next piece was one of the most anticlimactic musical moments I've ever experienced. Paul Oakenfold, one of the most famous DJs in the world, joined the Pops onstage for another world premiere - Felix Brenner's "TravelAcoustica", which Brenner touted as a work that combined musical influences from Asia and Indonesia (Brenner is another young composer). Oakenfold was there to provide even more beats and shadings to the piece. Even as a non-fan of techno, I have heard of Oakenfold, and with a unique premise like that, how could it go wrong? It was gonna be so cool! ...heh.

Bathed in blue light, Oakenfold started a whirring pedal tone over which the orchestra played a sinister groove that would've felt at home during a fight scene in the Matrix movies. So far so good. However, this lasted for about a minute. The remaining fifteen minutes were not nearly as interesting. The orchestra started in on another theme, and although Oakenfold seemed to be bouncing around a lot, I couldn't hear any discernible "DJ stuff." After a few minutes of the new theme, the orchestra suddenly stopped, and the piece completely devolved into a tired dance beat courtesy of Oakenfold (curiously, he appeared to bounce less when his beats were spinning). The orchestra appeared bored, and some of the older members actually appeared embarrassed. As the beats faded and the final part of the piece came to a head, the orchestra played yet another theme that was highly reminiscent of the training music from Mike Tyson's Punch-Out. When all was said and done, the piece recieved a decent amount of polite applause (no ovation). I felt a little cheated - one of the top DJs in the world collaborated with one of the best orchestras in the world, and the result fell flat.

To the relief of many Hem fans, intermission came and the crew started setting up the stage for the 'real show.' Looking back on the crowd, I could definitely tell who the Hem fans were, who the Pops fans were, and who was there for Paul Oakenfold. During intermission, I started to flesh out some of my notes. As I was writing, a lady at a nearby table asked if some of her relatives could move to my table and fill the empty seats. When they arrived, they asked if I knew about Hem. I explained that they're one of my favorite groups, that they've renewed my faith in American songwriting, and that I listen to their music all the time. This was definitely the best approach I could've taken - it turned out that the people who joined me were the wife, son, mother, and aunt of Dan Messe, the pianist and main songwriter for Hem. I felt very honored to have been sitting there with them during Hem's performance; in between songs they would share little tidbits about the band and how the songs came to be. To be honest, I kinda hoped that they'd invite me backstage after the show, but hey... I'm not complaining.

After intermission, Hem took the stage, all suits and shirts (Steve in jeans) and Sally radiant in a long green dress. They needed very little introduction - all that Lockhart said was "Ladies and gentlemen, Hem." - and the crowd went wild. But we soon shut our mouths as Sally - unaccompanied - sang her lullaby that landed her the singing gig with Hem in the first place, "Lord, Blow the Moon Out Please." Without hesitation, the band-plus-orchestra performed the instrumental "Eveningland", which sets up the atmosphere for the album of the same name, and then segued into one of their more recent tracks, "He Came to Meet Me." The orchestra provided the perfect lush background for Dan's delicate piano and when Dawn harmonized with Sally, I knew that this was how the songs were intended to sound. Everything was pitch perfect. The guitars - three, counting lap steel - were just loud enough to be heard, but they didn't overpower. The drums were placed behind a plexiglass enclosure so they wouldn't swallow the orchestra's rich sound. By the end of the song, the band had really warmed up and any jitters they might have had were gone.

As soon as Hem started on their third song, I caught a glimpse of Dan's wife crying softly. There might be a sad story behind "The Fire Thief," or it just might be such gorgeous music that it brings tears to the eyes - either way, it was the first Hem song that I'd ever heard, and it remains my favorite. Sally barely more than a whisper, Dawn even quieter, every instrument playing at the lowest possible volume, building gradually toward the beautiful choruses. On the last one, Sally - in a pitch-perfect echo of the album - gave the "take comfort now" line an upward, soaring melody... killed me. Right through the heart. Fell in love when I heard the record, and all over again at Symphony Hall.

Dan welcomed the audience to the show, jokingly stating that this was the "most typical of Hem gigs." The last time that I attended one of the Pops' collaborations with an artist, it was their show with Ben Folds, who introduced his 'backing band' as the 'Ben Folds Eighty-Seven.' Definitely a great show (and a fight broke out in the balcony during the orchestral first half!), but he only played about seven songs with the Pops. Therefore, I expected about the same from the Hem collaboration. Little did I know that I was in for over an hour's worth of bliss, as the band was about to begin their fourth of fourteen songs.

The orchestra shone through on "Pacific Street", which (I learned from my tablemates) was written after Sally and Dan had met in a bar where they were drowning their sorrows after failed relationships. "Carry Me Home", which follows "Pacific St" on the album, seemed to follow naturally here as well - it began slowly, spaciously. The sound of a mandolin in front of dozens of other strings was sensational. They might as well have turned off the microphones for "Sailor" - it started as a barely audible whisper, letting the orchestra slowly build like a dark wave that fit the song perfectly.

The Pops threw an interesting arrangement into "Reservoir", a tribute to the countryside surrounding Pittsburgh: they were silent for the first verse, and then with booming tympani abruptly entered the picture. It was a little bombastic for my taste and I didn't think it suited the song too well, but perhaps it just evoked a different feeling than that which has come to mind the many times I've listened to the album version. "Easy One" and "Almost Home" were splendid, and when Gary brought out the harmonica I had my fingers crossed... and I was right. Even Dan's inane comment that "Even though Hem is from NY and we're in Boston, the two cities have one thing in common: they're not California" couldn't take away from my delight at hearing "Not California" with a full orchestra. (seriously, worst segue ever... probably as bad as the Indigo Girls' live album - "y'know, I was just thinking about Galileo...") Sally owned the microphone toward the end of the song. Seriously, the woman can sing with passion.

"Hollow" was another crowd-pleaser, but the most poignant moment of the show came when Dan quietly said "for Dad." His mother, sitting next to me, knew that this was going to be a tough moment - Dan wrote "My Father's Waltz" for his father when he was sick with cancer two years ago. The band recorded the song in time for him to hear it just before he passed away. It's only two minutes long, but it is powerful and beautiful and sad. Sally managed to sing it without wavering; the rest of the crowd wasn't able to hold on as well as she did. I couldn't bear to look at Dan's mom.

"Stupid Mouth Shut" was a necessary rocker that picked the mood back up, and the guitarists were obviously having a blast. Dawn was radiant on this one, managing to remain poised and smiling even while (i think) she flubbed a lyric in the first verse. (I have a huge crush on her, in case you're wondering) They closed their fantastic set with "Half Acre", the tune recently featured in some great commercials for Liberty Mutual.

The standing ovation was deafening.

When the band returned to the stage for their encore, they asked if they could do one without the orchestra (a friend of theirs had written arrangements for all the previous songs, but the encore was spontaneous). Hem performed "When I Was Drinking", the second song from their first album. It sounded spare without the orchestra, but as every instrument and voice shone through I was reminded of just how talented every member of the group really is. The songwriting is impeccable, and they have just the right mix of instrumentation. Nothing is too fancy, nothing is overblown - they can be achingly quiet one song and rock the next. During the encore, Keith Lockhart stood by Dan's piano, finally getting a chance to enjoy Hem for himself. He seemed mesmerized, as were we all.

**Special thanks are due to Christina, webmaster (webmistress?) of allabouthem, the best fan site out there. She took all the pics that you saw above.**

Tommy Emmanuel, June 7

2007-06-20T00:37:00.000-07:00

Jason introduced me to the music of Tommy Emmanuel, a guitarist from Australia whose playing is beyond superb. I recently had the chance to see him perform in the Regatta Bar, an intimate venue in Cambridge. Going to concerts alone is something I'm comfortable with, and it also increases my chances of getting a good seat. This concert was no exception; my seat was at a table about eight feet from the stage. I shared the table with a cute older couple who had driven "all the way from Framingham" to see Tommy. (Framingham is about twelve miles away) They were lovely. They were also friends of Tommy, which made for some fascinating conversation and some great storytelling on their part. That is, until the people sitting at the table to my immediate left showed up.

They were... well, not lovely. In fact, they were downright annoying up until the show started. The wife kept blabbering on and on about how she "didn't really like folk, jazz, or blues," but that people "bow at the feet of her husband when he plays his guitar." The husband, who bore a strange resemblance to a very fat James Hetfield, seemed embarrassed at her comments. However, he then started talking and bragging about his guitar prowess. He apparently is able to play both necks of his 12/6 doubleneck simultaneously. If I hadn't been committed to my table, I would've simply walked away. Their son (they do get bonus points for bringing their ten-year-old son) seemed seriously mortified that he was there with his parents; thankfully he didn't say a word. (by the way, there is nothing more metal than James Hetfield with a banjo. NOTHING.)

Then the show started, much to the audience's delight. The opener was a young guitarist named Kieran Murphy - he showed off some great chops during his three numbers. One tune was reminiscent of the gaudy-yet-wonderful themes from James Bond and Secret Agent Man; I could almost see the action sequence unfolding as he played the song. He was a great opener - didn't say much, played three good songs, thanked everyone for coming to the show, and left.

As Kieran left the stage, Tommy strolled on, cool as a member of the Rat Pack. He said some complimentary words about Kieran - and it turns out that they're both from the same small town in Australia. Perhaps there's something in the water. Anyway, he grabbed his beat-up guitar and went to work... and the man can play.

Watching him perform is a very unique experience. I go to quite a few shows and see a lot of musicians do their thing. There are many times when, although I certainly can't do what the guitarist or bassist does, I understand it and might one day be able to do it with a lot of practice. Those are the kind of shows where afterward I come home and play my guitar for an hour. Tommy, on the other hand, does things with a guitar that I simply don't understand/believe. His guitar playing - much like Vic Wooten's bass playing - elevates the game to a whole new level. These are the kind of shows that make me want to give up guitar altogether and take up golf. Thankfully that feeling dissipates after a day or so (and perhaps it's a good thing that those kind of shows are few and far between).

One of the highlights was a tune called "Mombasa", a song he'd written while visiting Kenya doing work with schoolchildren. Apparently the inspiration for the song came as he was riding along in a jeep in the Rift Valley. He showed the full range of his talent on that song, using the guitar as a percussion instrument in a frenzied "drum solo" in the middle of the tune. If you have nine minutes to spare, check out this interview (first 2 minutes) and performance (7 minutes). Seriously good stuff.

Tommy told the audience that one of his favorite artists is Billy Joel; he respects the songwriting and melodies. Although Billy's instrument of choice is obviously the piano, certain pieces would undoubtedly be just as successful on guitar. Tommy's cover of "And So It Goes" was note-for-note perfect.

One of the most poignant moments came when Tommy introduced his song "Angelina," written for his older daughter. He spoke for a few minutes about the amount of touring that he does (300+ shows per year, six continents) and the distance he feels as a father from his daughters, who live in England. Tommy tried to mask his longing to be with them by telling a few random jokes ("I'll have the alligator, and make it snappy!"), but from my vantage point of eight feet away I could tell that there was an inner melancholy. Unaccompanied by guitar, he delicately sang the two verses to "Angelina" and then launched into the song on his instrument. He played with confidence and ease, but there was an underlying sadness behind his eyes that probably remained hidden to most of the crowd.

The consummate entertainer, he talked with audience members between songs, telling jokes and stories about his life on the road. At one point, Tommy noticed that a woman was squinting because a light was shining directly on her; he climbed onto a chair and (rather violently) used his guitar to knock the light away from her.

He closed the show with an audience favorite - a cover of The Beatles' "Day Tripper" segueing into "Lady Madonna" and then into "When I'm Sixty-Four" and back full circle to "Day Tripper." He stunned the uninitiated when, after a few bars of 'piano', he added the bass line simultaneously. His eighty-minute show was exhilarating to watch... and exhausting; he worked hard to do the things he did. What's more impressive was that I saw the 7:30 show; Tommy would have to do another one at 10:00. I bid farewell to my table companions, who were sticking around for the second show - and as a final note, I wrote down the name of a guitarist on their recommendation. There's apparently a young musician named Richard Smith, and on his website there's a quote from none other than Tommy Emmanuel: "If you like my playing, you should hear Richard Smith." That's good enough for me.

Hook You And Everyone Who Looks Like You.

2007-06-14T10:04:00.000-07:00

While down in Aruba, the families Berne and Bianculli would get into great discussions over the dinner table. Whether this had something to do with the amount of wine we consumed remains a mystery, but the conversations were always lots and lots of fun. One night we got started on the subject of languages (by the way, the official language of Aruba is Papiamento, a fascinating amalgamation of Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, and several African languages), and I relayed a story from my days overseas. I do so again for your reading pleasure (as well as for my own curiosity about writing the story down rather than telling it).

When I moved to Japan, I had to set up my apartment - there, most places have nothing in them when you move in, so I had to buy a fridge, a heater, a toilet seat (heated!)... but one obvious purchase was a phone. Now, as I explained in this post, the Japanese have no 'f' sound in their language. The closest they have is the 'h' sound. Therefore, when they try to pronounce a foreign word containing the letter f (e.g., fuel), it often results in a h/f sound - it might come out as "hfuel." It's confusing for Japanese (much like the r/l dilemma (diremma?)), and conversely when writing in English they sometimes don't know which letter to use. Additionally, the "oo" sound (e.g. 'food') is often written by the Japanese as simply 'u'. Makes sense, right? Sounds the same. Lastly, there are many words in the English language that end with -ck rather than -vowel+k. Truck is not truk, back is not bak, you get the picture. However, there are many English words that end in -ook (e.g. book, crook) and this can be confusing to many Japanese people when trying to figure out whether to use a c or not.

So the upshot of this was as follows: when I bought my phone, the instructions were to 'hook the phone,' showing me how to put the phone back on the base. Given the above linguistics lesson, it should not have surprised me that the instructions read:

"Fuck the phone."

Needless to say, this was by far the best thing ever. It kept me laughing for days on end. Can you imagine?? "Fuck the phone." These were the funniest words I'd read since my junior year of college, when there was a guy named Sukdith Poonjestical on my floor (not kidding) and the names were posted on the doors. But anyway, thus ends the story about hooking my phone. So next time when you want to swear, just think "hook 'em!"

Life Began In A Garden About Six Thousand Years Ago...

2007-06-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

Every group has its Mecca, its special place that is most important to the group. Jews have the Holy Land. Elvis fans have Graceland. Muslims have, well, Mecca. Baseball fans have Cooperstown. I might say that mine have been Mt. Fuji and Liverpool.

But now, I find myself with a new mission: The Creation Museum.

That's right, the Creationists - more specifically, an apparently well-funded group called the Ministers of Genesis - have built a huge museum in Kentucky that "illuminates" history in that way that is oh-so-special (i.e. ignoring the entire fossil record and all forms of scientific reasoning). As fate would have it, the annual conference for my company will be held in Cincinnati in November, a short hop over the border from the museum (Cincinnati's airport is actually in Kentucky). I fully intend on taking advantage of this opportunity - when else will I be in Kentucky? - and spending some time exploring the wonders of Creationism.

Seriously, how can I resist? The following description of one exhibit is taken verbatim from the museum's website:

Walk through the Cave of Sorrows and see the horrific effects of the Fall of Man. Sounds of a sin-ravaged world echo through the room. Finally, see the sacrificial Lamb on the cross, and the hope of redemption.

and another:

Adam and Eve live in the Garden of Eden. Children play while dinosaurs roam near Eden's rivers. The Serpent coils cunningly in the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

How fucking awesome does this sound?? These are actual descriptions of exhibits!! These people actually believe that dinosaurs and humans co-existed!! This is the kind of stuff that fascinates me to no end in its inanity. I seriously can't wait to go. Ideally, I'd like to go with a shirt that reads "Darwin was Jesus; Get Over It" or "Adam & Eve & Steve" or simply "Atheism Rocks!" But we'll see. I promise to take lots of pictures and grab as many brochures as possible.

How do you say "Geronimo!" in Latin?

2007-06-06T06:02:00.001-07:00

I only ask because some stupid guy tried to "jump into the popemobile," as reported by CNN. Seriously, what an idiot. Authorities don't think that he had any harmful intentions toward the pope (he was wearing a pink shirt, for pete's sake), but to paraphrase Eddie Murphy, maybe he wanted to go to hell and didn't want to wait in line. Or maybe he wanted to be on television... in which case, he could've definitely dressed better for the occasion.

Oh, and I found myself really liking a song on the radio this morning. As soon as I got to work, i typed in a few lyrics to see if I could find out who sang it. Yep... none other than Carrie Underwood. (sigh) Guilty as charged.

Everyone wants to be found.

2007-06-06T05:11:00.000-07:00

I like the movie Lost In Translation. Enough so that I have the movie poster hanging in my apartment. Probably not a huge surprise, given that 1) I lived in Japan, 2) Bill frickin' Murray can really act, and 3) Scarlett Johanson is hot as the sun. However, people who have seen the movie on my recommendation fall into two categories - "loved it!" or "WTF?" There really is no middle ground.

So recently a friend (and her mom) watched the movie on my recommendation, and they both hated it. My 'bad taste in movies' has become a running joke in their house. Of course, I respect their right to disagree (sorta), but they asked me to explain why I like the movie so much.

I had a lot of trouble doing so.

Yeah, I lived there. Watching the movie certainly evokes a whole slew of emotions and memories - most of them pleasant - from my time overseas. But I refuse to chalk my high regard for the movie up to that single fact. There are plenty of people who have never been to the country, and they loved it too. So there's gotta be something else.

There's a lot of subtlety in the film, and like any good story, nothing is ever perfect. Many of the scenes are little vignettes and observations; they don't necessarily advance the plot - but they're certainly not filler. The film was shot in something like three weeks - some of it illegally (you need permits to shoot on the streets & in the subways in Japan, and the crew didn't want to bother getting them) - and so there's a "one-take" feeling that often captures the quick pace of Tokyo; the city is almost another character.

I also recognize that many scenes involve Bill & Scarlett not understanding a whole bunch of Japanese. I don't know what it's like to watch those scenes and not understand both sides... it makes me laugh even harder at the actors' confusion. But the humor in there? C'mon, it's fucking hysterical when the old guy in the hospital tries to ask Bill how long he's been in Japan (yes, that's all he's asking) - go to about 2:54 in this clip. Watch the women in the background... they can't hold their shit together. (Bill, by the way, improvised the entire first scene of the clip in the restaurant)

Anyway, the movie is full of little funny moments like that. It's also painfully revealing and can break your heart at times. But it's different from a lot of Hollywood movies in that there's no real plot, nothing is ever dumbed-down and spelled out, there are no 'good guys' and 'bad guys,' and many scenes are left wide open (including - in my opinion - the end of the movie). There are no big explosions, nobody dies, there isn't all that much dialogue... it's a loosely told story at best. That's typical of a lot of Japanese films/shows; the ambiguity factor is much higher than the definite-end factor.

So in the end, who knows. Guess there's no accounting for taste, and there's certainly no way that I can explain why I like this movie... it just resonates with me. That's the best I've got. But Bill Murray still should've beaten Sean Penn for Best Actor, dammit.

You Know You've Been In Boston Too Long When...

2007-06-05T06:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I was in Aruba recently. Short version, it was an amazing trip. Long version... that's going to be another post, probably very much in the narrative never-ending-story fashion of the England trip.

Anyway, on the last day of the trip we unfortunately had to leave and return to reality. So, after a few hours in the morning soaking up some last few rays, I headed up to the room to shower and get ready. My dad, who remained poolside for a few more minutes, said, "have fun packing." And as I wandered up to the room, I was thoroughly confused.

Know why?

Because after living here for over four years, my ears/brain did not hear the word packing. They heard the word parking pronounced with a Boston accent. It took me about two minutes to figure out what the f**k my dad was talking about. He said a completely innocuous statement, and it seriously baffled me as to why he thought I was getting into a car.

So yeah, maybe I've been in Boston too long. I let the word "wicked" slip down in Aruba, and it wasn't in the normal sense (e.g. "I think that Karl Rove is a wicked person" or "Hey, have you read Wicked?"*). I used it in the describing-an-adjective sense, the stereotypical Bostonian sense - something like "It's wicked hot out here." As soon as I said it, I knew I was in deep doody. Heh heh, doody.

But I can't STAND the Boston accent. Every time I hear Mitt "Named For a Piece of Sports Equipment" Romney, I'm reminded that idiots sound even worse with a bad accent (this also works whenever Boston's mayor Tom Menino speaks). I know that it's funny when the mayor on the Simpsons talks, but he's a caricature of Kennedy and boy, even when the Kennedys say intelligent things, their accents get in the way of my believing their credibility. That goes a long way with me; when people don't understand that there is a letter "R" in many common words (including, in the famous example, the name of a prestigious school that happens to be in Boston (and what one might do with an automobile there)), their credibility vanishes like a Red Sox winning streak. The hardcore Boston accents drive me nuts.

Of course, everywhere has its accents, and I admit that I'm quite biased. It's just that "y'all" is charming (it's a very useful contraction! it's no different than combining "they" and "will" into "they'll"), whereas "pahk my cah in hahvad yahd" is downright stupid. And while George Bush makes a Southern accent sound, well, retarded, Bill Clinton is able to make a Southern accent sound charming and sometimes even professional. That does not exist with Boston accents; I can't think of a single person - sportscasters, politicians, teachers (can you imagine "the three R's" in a Boston classroom?) - who manages to sound intelligent while talking like mayor Quimby. And don't get me started on North Shore Boston accents. Random use of British... like saying "bath" to rhyme with "goth."

Does this mean that I'm leaving the place anytime soon? Nope. In fact, I've been looking at condos for the last six months. Got a few in mind now that I'm seriously pursuing (how neat would it be if both my brother and I lived in towns called Arlington?), and my goal is to be able to have a Labor Day bbq at my new digs. But we'll see. These things have a habit of slipping between my fingers.

Anyway, the point is that I like it here. It's just that I can't frickin' stand the accent. Somebody needs to smack me; I'm afraid that the unconscious use of "wicked" is the first step on the slippery slope toward sounding like a Kennedy. One comforting thought remains, though... it's better than the Long Island (lawn guyland) accent, and definitely better than the New Jersey ("yous guys") accent.

*When the touring company of the show Wicked came to Boston, the billboards had the typical green witch in black clothing... and the only two words were "Wicked Awesome." Now that's funny.

An Attempt To Write An Article, Onion-Style

2007-05-21T12:10:00.000-07:00

New Hampshire Lawmakers, Citizens Still Not Giving A Shit

NASHUA, NH - After 231 years, the state of New Hampshire continues to regard the rest of the country as overprotective, restrictive, and lacking the patience for true individualism.

"Basically, we're better than the other states because we can get away with stuff here," said Teagan Malley, a UNH senior with no plans for the future.

Boasting the motto "Live Free or Die," the state has always maintained a fierce independence, shunning seatbelt laws for people over age 12 and motorcycle helmet laws entirely. Despite the fact that the state continues to lead the rest of the country in per-capita automobile-related deaths, many residents do not see the connection. "What's the big deal?" asked Rita Nolicky, a tattooed resident of Tilton with a sticker on her motorcycle claiming that her 'other ride is on your face.' "I mean, people should be allowed to be comfortable on their bikes and let the wind blow in their faces."

A bill was introduced by a state representative recently which proposed that motorcyclists who chose not to wear their helmets would have to purchase a $1 million life insurance policy. Despite testimony from the New Hampshire Brain Damage Association, the bill was soundly defeated. AMA representative and NH resident Joe Bingham, who voted against the bill, commented "Why would a helmetless motorcyclist be likely to inflict more damage upon himself or others than a helmeted motorcyclist?"

Another contentious topic is the lack of sales tax in New Hampshire. Many shops in Massachusetts, Vermont, and Maine that are near the border have been forced to go out of business as a result of people drving across the border to tax-free country. Additionally, some products that are illegal in many places are legal in New Hampshire. Zeb Simmons, a shopowner on the outskirts of Portsmouth, is nonchalant about the criticism that he receives for selling deadly fireworks. His shoddily-made products, which are not legal in any other New England state, are very popular with young adults who gladly drive dozens of miles to get their hands on them. "Yeah, Zeb's pretty cool," said one UMass-Amherst sophomore majoring in hydroponics. "He'll sell you pretty much anything, and if you ask nicely he'll even show you his Nazi memorabilia or sell you some weed or something."

Simmons' reply to his critics was simple: "Fuck 'em."

>>

The best part is that the story about the motorcycle bill is true. :-) Could I write for the Onion? Hmmm... doubtful.

Road Trip, Anyone?

2007-03-15T10:48:00.000-07:00

This post regards a link that Mike posted, one upon which I'd like to elaborate.

I once drove around this fine country of ours. During the two-month trip, I visited thirty-seven states and drove approximately 12,000 miles (at a time when gas was $1.25/gallon). Most of it alone, some with company. Had a great time, saw many amazing sights and had loads of memorable experiences.

This guy did the opposite. He drove around the country in just over nine days, making it a point to touch every state (including Alaska and Hawaii, to which he made 2 rountrip flights during the last two days of his jouney). So really, he drove around the entire fucking country in just over seven days. Do you have any idea how insane this is??

Let's compare some of the statistics. My trip took two months and 12,000 miles, which conveniently works out to about 200 miles per day. That's not too bad. That's about 3 to 4 hours of driving, plus ample time for other activities (like hiking, playing baseball on the real field of dreams, or flooding the bathroom in a restaurant in the hometown of the grand wizard of the KKK). Additionally, there were days when I did a lot more driving than that, and as a result there were days when I did barely any driving. My longest driving day took me just over 500 miles, from Austin TX to the border between Arkansas and Tennessee, and the next day I spent walking around Memphis because I was so sick of being behind my steering wheel. Well, the real reason was because Memphis rules. But walking helped that day.

This guy had to average 1100 miles per day in order to meet his goal. That's the distance from New York to Miami or from Boston to St. Louis, every day, for a week. Un-fucking-believeable. That takes cojones... and a carload of military rations. Also, he barely slept, making the trip kinda risky to anyone else on the road, but I guess he was so amped up on adrenaline and the target of getting to all 50 states (note: he didn't need to explore every state; he just had to physically touch 'em all, even for a second... so of course he went to four corners, the only place in the country where one can physically be in 4 states at once) that he didn't need too much sleep.

There are other statistical comparisons that are kinda fun, too. My trip took about 60 days, which comes out to 1440 hours. If I drove 12,000 miles, that means that my average speed was 8.3 mph, even for the hours during which I was not driving. Using the same method of calculation, his average speed was 47 mph. Even while sleeping.

Overall, an impressive story. Insane, but impressive nonetheless. Part of me wants to yell at the guy for all the amazing things he missed by driving around the country on the interstates and never really stopping, but I know that wasn't his goal/motive so it's okay. My only real problem lies with this quote:

"I also listened to a lot of Country & Western music on the radio and heard Trisha Yearwood sing “There Goes My Baby” at least thirty times, which was fine by me."

He deserves a beating for that. But read his story; it's pretty amazing.

Maybe Next Time...

2007-03-13T20:25:00.000-07:00

It's interesting to see what happens when fate and performance dates interact. Some shows get canceled or postponed, and the reasons are sometimes amusing. Here are a few:

Reason: Deportation
Band/Artist: Rodrigo y Gabriela
Story: What can I say, Rodrigo had visa issues and got deported the night before they were going to play at the Roxy in Boston. It sucks, and yet is so awesome. By the way, this happened yesterday. I was going to go to the show with Adam. I wound up kicking his ass in pool.

Reason: Bitchiness
Band/Artist: Mariah Carey
Story: First show in Hong Kong for the diva, and she throws a hissy because they don't have her favorite brand of bottled water or the right kind of furniture in the green room. Way to lose one of your few remaining audiences. (granted, this isn't really fate, but at least several thousand people were spared an evening of glass-shattering "vocals")

Reason: Plumbing Truck
Band/Artist: The Max Klau Band
Story: In the afternoon on the day we were to play at the Milky Way, a plumbing truck smacked into the storefront above the club and injured six people. It also knocked out the power for the entire block. Thankfully the people were not seriously hurt, and I'm kinda glad that we didn't play that night because our keyboard player had also recently come down with pneumonia.

Reason: No insurance
Band/Artist: Blue Oyster Cult
Story: The local promoter for the group's 2003 show in Salem didn't have the right insurance policy for a one-day event. He canceled the show and forgot to tell the band. They showed up (with more cowbell than ever) and were understandably pissed. Insult was apparently added to injury when it was reported that fewer than 90 (yes, ninety) tickets had been sold.

Reason: Geography
Band/Artist: Eric Clapton
Story: In summer 2006, Clapton was scheduled to perform on Moscow's famous Red Square. However, Russian authorities canceled the show just four days before the performance because the permits were issued for the Vasilevsky Spusk. This is, in fact, a large area of the Red Square that is often used for events such as speeches and concerts. Problem was that the authorities didn't know what or where the Vasilevsky Spusk was; they thought it was a different area of Moscow.

Reason: Act of God
Band/Artist: Britney Spears
Story: A lightning bolt struck the control system for her pyrotechnic effects during the first song of an outdoor arena concert in Texas in 2003. After the strike, all the lighting and power was still working for the arena, but Britney was apparently too distraught to go on without her precious fireworks. She is quoted as saying, "Please don't boo."

Current Earth-Destruction Status: Zero

2007-03-02T13:13:00.000-08:00

In purely random order, here are some things that have piqued my interest as of late.

1. An army exercise gone awry... in Liechtenstein
2. The title of the White Stripes' next album
3. The US Dept of Transportation's ban on Windows Vista
4. One Hong Kong gym's attempt to act like the machines in Fight Club
5. This video (NSFW)
6. The history of Vegemite
7. Kicking Raz in the nuts (no link... it just seems like a good idea)
8. The top ten ways to destroy our planet
9. A site that's remained unchanged (advertising aside) for 9 years

That's all the energy I have. This week has left me drained. Good thing tomorrow is Purim . Cheers, y'all.

I am an ass.

2007-02-22T18:37:00.000-08:00

So a few weeks ago, I was walking around outside during lunch, and an elderly gentleman got out of his car and said "Pardon me...". So of course, I asked if there was anything I could do, and he asked me if there was a KFC nearby. It just so happens that there is a KFC right as you exit the highway, and it's only about 1/2 a mile from where we were. So I gave him the directions; he thanked me and then told me that it was his 80th birthday, that he was a war veteran and was on his way to celebrate.

I thought it was awesome that he wanted to celebrate at the KFC (nothing says 'purple heart' like $0.99 buffalo snackers?). And so I proceeded with my day.

That was a few weeks ago. This morning, as I was walking from the far parking lot to work, I noticed that there was a huge number of cars in the main parking lot, and I asked another passerby what was going on. She told me that there was a town meeting in the Knights of Columbus hall and some official was being honored. I didn't give it too much thought. Then, at about ten-fifteen this morning, I had a sudden epiphany:

Knights of Columbus. KFC. K of C.

Oops.

I sincerely hope that the old guy was really looking for some fried chicken, but somehow I doubt it. I have two images in my head. One is of a crowded Knights of Columbus hall filled with expectant veterans, waiting to honor this dude who fought in a couple of wars. The other is of a thoroughly confused 80-year-old guy at the counter of a Kentucky Fried Chicken trying to ask the equally confused teenage Hispanic cashier about a K of C.

To the old man - wherever you are, I hope that you got the party that you deserved, and that you showed up with a huge bucket of chicken and a story about some shmuck who thought you were hungry.

Technocrap

2007-02-17T14:34:00.000-08:00

I have too many gadgets. Let's inventory (how Japanese... using a noun after the word "Let's"):

- One iPod. Best. Toy. EVER.
- One cell phone. Surprisingly still functional.
- One digital camera. Yay.
- One blackberry. Still figuring it out.
- One bluetooth earpiece for said blackberry. Ditto.
- One Toshiba laptop computer (personal).
- One Dell laptop computer (work).
- One Nintendo 64 system. It's about ten years old and I only have two games (football and Mario Kart) but it rules.
- One electric razor.
- One beard trimmer.

All of these have chargers, which makes travel fun. Of course, I'm unlikely to bring the N64 on a two-day business trip, but much of the other stuff will come with me. No point to this post apparently; it just gives me pause.

Randomness, or Chillin' in Boston

2007-02-13T13:56:00.000-08:00

"Bob Dylan makes William Shakespeare look like Billy Joel." -George Harrison

That made me laugh a whole lot. It's an interesting juxtaposition of tastes. Anyway, it's cold here. Real cold. Like 7 degrees with a wind chill of 17 below. That normally would not faze me too much (just pile on those layers), but yesterday was incredible in terms of the variety and amount of stuff that came out of the sky. First there was about five inches of snow. After that, pure ice started falling. Seriously, just ice crystals. Then there was a little more snow, followed by sleet and freezing rain and a smattering of hail (which only seemed to fall when I stepped outside to periodically clean off my car). This lasted a full 24 hours. The net effect of all of this was that 1) the initial snow became very dense, and 2) everything else on top of it froze. So now the side streets around Boston (as I'm sure is the case around NY and NJ) are basically ice slaloms. My driveway has a 3-inch-thick layer of ice... perfect for hockey, not so perfect for taking the trash out.

So on the way to work this morning (left an hour and a half earlier than normal), I decided to treat myself to some coffee at Dunkin's. Felt I deserved it after forty minutes of digging my car out and thawing the windows (and I still had to pull over twice to clean my windshield because my wipers refused to thaw). Now, even when it's cold outside, I like iced coffee. When I ordered it, the guy at Dunk's said, "that's iced coffee, right?" And I responded in the affirmative, figuring that he was just being a nice guy and double-checking. However, when I got to the pickup window, there was a nice steaming cup of coffee. Hot coffee. I explained that I had ordered iced coffee - twice - and the lady looked at me as if I had six eyes. "Really?" she asked, to which I replied, "Yes, really... ask the guy who took my order." She did so, and then proceeded to talk to me - nay, lecture me - about the dangers of drinking cold beverages when it's cold outside. She did so while not preparing my iced coffee.

I drove away. I don't need random Dunkin' Donuts employees giving me crap about wanting to drink their product. Especially at 7:15 in the morning. I just wanted some iced coffee (and it's warm in my car and in my office, dammit!). But I can't complain too much - I was able to get my car out and not go stir crazy. There are a whole lot of people who are literally iced in. I worked from home yesterday (ever accessed the ftp site and updated the temp/active list in your underwear? it's awesome) and was a little loopy from sitting at home all day. I didn't really have the option to go anywhere, and that's what made me stir crazy. But I did realize that Steven Seagal hasn't stopped making movies, that the light in my living room is very pretty around 2:30 pm, and that my Asian neighbor on the third floor actually speaks.

the moon rulz #1

2007-02-02T07:37:00.000-08:00

“Holy shit, we’re being overrun by electronic terrorists from the moon!”

This is not a post about the upcoming Transformers movie (only 152 days to go!). On Wednesday, the city of Boston shut down the subways, tunnels, waterways, and bridges because a whole bunch of light boxes were placed around the city in a guerrilla advertising campaign for Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It’s one of the best cartoons ever – if I could be a cartoon character, it’d probably be Frylock – but not that many people know about it because it’s on cable late at night. The “devices” were in place for three weeks in ten cities around the country, including Chicago, Atlanta, and New York, and yet Boston was the only city that went ape and called in the bomb squads.

So the city now stands divided. Half the people are laughing, and half are crying foul. It’s an age gap. The average pop-culture-saturated college kid has a good shot of knowing about the show, if not the specific characters that the light boxes portrayed. The average forty-five year old, well… not so much. The big question, and one that will be debated for a long time to come, is did Boston overreact? In my opinion, you bet. Even in a city where the population swells by well over 100,000 students during the school year and where the average age hovers near 40, there are still a whole lot of folks who don’t know ATHF, don’t get the joke, and might genuinely be freaked out by a mildly profane light box. I’d venture that most of the adults in any city have never heard of the show, much less know the Mooninites, who only appear in a few episodes.

Nevertheless, our elected officials didn't bother to go through the normal channels of investigation that one might think would be appropriate: Check with other cities to see if anything else had gone down, run the image by the press and see if they could match it with anything, and perhaps look at ONE device rather than bring the city to a standstill while trying to tackle all 38 of them. Mayor Tom Menino wants about $750,000 from Boston to compensate for the inconveniences of shutting down the city for a few hours and activating the bomb squad, and I think that his comment that “It is outrageous that, in a post-9/11 world, a company would use this type of marketing scheme” is not appropriate. His reaction was unbalanced and rash, and therefore irresponsible. He is fearmongering and playing on people's fears of terrorism, and that ain't right.

I’d also like to add a few words to the end of his comment: “Without informing the city first.” I can’t help but be a little pissed at Turner Broadcasting too. One phone call on their part, and I have a feeling that the city of Boston would’ve bent over backwards (that’s legal here!) to help out the marketing campaign. Hell, if the city had been in on the joke, it would have been awesome. Think of all those students who would subscribe to cable, or buy ATHF merch, or help the campaign out in some way or another. It was definitely a bad idea to not inform the city officials. There have to be one or two of ‘em who are secretly laughing on the inside. So yes, foul on Turner Broadcasting. That said, does it make sense for people to get all up in arms about a bunch of Lite-Brite boxes? Of course not! With every news report about this incident that I hear on TV or the radio, I laugh harder and harder. I think the entire shitstorm is absolutely hysterical.

But in the long run, this isn’t going to hurt Turner – sure, they’ll wind up shelling out 750 large to apologize to Menino et al, but the nationwide news networks haven’t stopped talking about this for days. That’s publicity, and I guarantee that there are thousands of 18-to-30-year-olds out there who are going to start watching the show and buying the t-shirts. Hell, some guy in Georgia made a replica – a frickin’ replica! – of one of the electronic Mooninites and offered it on eBay with a starting bid of $15. He sold it for nine hundred and fifty dollars. That’s why I love this country. And the whole campaign, no matter how brilliant or ill-conceived, will definitely bring the curious and the newly converted to the ATHF movie. That’s right, the campaign was originally intended to promote Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theatres (shades of Borat, hm?), the full-length cartoon movie due out in March. And guess what? Thanks to this whole debacle, it'll rake in much more cash than expected.

And by the way, the only people who should be punished are these two. They’re the ones hired by Turner to place the electronic Mooninites around Boston. I don’t think their actions are deplorable, but Christ, look at them! One should go to prison for the hair alone. That very photo (or similar ones taken around the same time) graced the covers of today's papers, and I think it was the Herald that gave the headline "Bad Hair Day."

Things that made me go hmm.

2007-01-24T11:06:00.000-08:00

Three pieces of news have stopped me today and made me think a little bit about the wonderful world in which we live. First, a beverage company is going to produce an energy drink called "Liquid Experience", based on the concept of Jimi Hendrix and his masterpiece album. There are people up in arms about this idea (Flea was interviewed by the AP and is not too happy), but really, is this anything new? Lust for Life promotes Heineken. Pete Townshend licensed Baba O'Riley to be used for an SUV commercial. The Beatles' Revolution was used to promote Nike (I have to imagine, though, that John Lennon turned over in his grave). Plus, the president of the beverage company says that some of the profits from the drink's sales will go to a music education charity. So fine, let there be a drink inspired by Jimi Hendrix.

But why stop there?

Let's have drinks inspired by other musicians! How about "Danish Baconnade" commemorating the exploits of Freddie Mercury? Or the "Whining Pussy", a tribute to Chris Martin? Maybe a can with a large mouth opening named for Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler? ...and maybe the "Tenacious D Protein Shake"? I'm not even mentioning the possibilities that surround Ice-T, Ice Cube, Vanilla Ice, Korn, and The Black Eyed Peas.

Another piece of news that intrigued me today was the recent bill proposed in the Japanese Ministry of Education. As a former employee, I can verify that while teachers are expected to have ultimate control of the kids (read: parents often leave all disciplining to the teachers), the teachers can't punish the kids at all. This includes everything from sending the kids to the principal's office to making them stand in the hall to beating them. A government panel has now proposed a plan to rethink all of this, possibly including the beating part.

I have two comments on this. First, I would have immensely enjoyed smacking a kid or two if it had been legal. I taught about 300 kids during the time I was there. Most of them were fantastic, some were just kinda... there, and there were two or three that just went above and beyond the description of "a kid who needs an ass-whoopin'." Secondly, regarding the domestic side - the article mentions that there are 22 US states that still allow corporal punishment, and that over 300,000 kids were physically disciplined in the '02-'03 school year. I honestly had no idea that corporal punishment was still legal here! It's sure as shit not legal in NY or any of the New England states (i think). Guess ya learn something new each day.

The third and final comment about today's news actually concerns last night's address. It was very strange to hear George Bush say "Dikembe Mutombo."

Hi, We're The Replacements

2007-01-23T10:52:00.000-08:00

The fourth installment of the Die Hard franchise is slated to hit theatres later this year. There are rumors flying around that it’s going to be rated PG-13; I think these rumors are bullshit. How can you have a Die Hard movie without flagrant profanity? I mean, the guy is getting his ass kicked left and right (and doing some mighty fine ass-kicking of his own), and the catch phrase of the entire franchise contains one of the Seven Bad Words: motherfucker. The action sequences and the operation of airplanes in DH2 were, respectively, unfathomably retarded and poorly-informed, but I know that the scene when he lights that lighter at the end of the film is fucking awesome.

Anyway, whenever one of the DH movies is on television (yes, even the third one...) I find myself drawn in. Willis is a great action star, and he can deliver a wiseass line like nobody's business. However, I especially like it when the movies are on network TV. Why? Because the networks don't edit the blood splattering, the glass shards in the feet, and the ridiculous body count... but they change the dialogue to be "less offensive." And this brings me back to the catch phrase.

Everyone knows the killer phrase "Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker!" It's one of those lines like "Hasta la vista, baby" or "Yo Adrienne!" that audiences just go apeshit for. Bruce Willis totally pwns that line in DH2. DH1, it's kinda funny. DH3, it's an utterance after the fact. But on network TV, they change the dialogue! So instead of saying "motherfucker," I've heard the following:

* Yippee ki-yay, mister friendly!
* Yippee ki-yay, mamma jamma!
* Yippee ki-yay, melon farmer! (that's my favorite... it's so mean!)

So I now propose to the networks a few more suggestions for replacement terms for 'motherfucker.'

* Yippee ki-yay, futher mucker!
* Yippee ki-yay, morgan freeman!
* Yippee ki-yay, mustard flavor!
* Yippee ki-yay, master finger!

I don't know what the last two mean, but just imagine that he actually said "Yippee ki-yay, Morgan Freeman!" to the terrorist. That (plus the look of confusion on the terrorist's face just before he perishes) would totally be worth the price of admission. It would be even better if the terrorist was actually played by Morgan Freeman.

One final note: I hope the fourth film is set in New Hampshire because the actual title of the movie is "Live Free or Die Hard." Of course, it won't be set there (do you think that a showdown involving the security of the country is gonna go down in Nashua?), but it'd be fun.

Bear with me.

2007-01-15T20:18:00.000-08:00

Everybody loves Barry White, whether they know the names any of his songs or not. Hell, I've seen him in concert and although I can vividly remember his performance (girls in lingerie dancing inside huge champagne glasses; a 30-piece orchestra dressed in silk pajamas) I can only remember a couple of songs. But chances are that some of his music has been heard while you're getting it on, or it's been in the background while the characters on tv are about to get it on. Here's a clip of the late, great Barry "Ain't" White doing his thing.

Another area of pop culture that is widely loved is the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I freely admit to seeing them all on their respective opening nights, and I did re-read the trilogy before each viewing. There were definitely great cinematic moments, but some of the best were performed by a guy who was never seen. Andy Serkis was Gollum/Smeagol, the tortured soul who would follow the ring all the way to its inevitable doom. Here's a brief clip of some great split-persona acting.

Okay.

Now... what would happen if those two clips had a demon child?

That's When Worlds Collide.

2007-01-11T05:54:00.000-08:00

Okay, I've seen only one or two episodes of CSI (and I sure as hell don't remember which cities they were based in), but this is simply hysterical. Ain't technology grand?
CSI Miami - Endless Caruso One Liners

All I Need to Know About Life I Learned from James Brown:

2007-01-02T08:34:00.000-08:00

Make it funky.
Uhhh!
Baby baby baby, baby baby baby, baby baby baby
Heeeyyyyy!
Good god!
Hit me!
It's a man's world.
Take it to the bridge.
I've got soul, and I'm superbad.
Yowwwww!
Popcorn!

The Godfather will be missed.

We Like The Nightlife, We Like To Party...

2006-12-18T06:51:00.000-08:00

I couldn't help but notice that there has been an abundance of fun music news recently. Let's begin with Van Halen. It only took 21 years, but Eddie Van Halen finally fired bassist Michael Anthony. I honestly didn't know that VH was still performing (maybe they're doing county fairs and bar mitzvahs), but honestly, Michael Anthony was one of the most boring bassists ever. He provided a pedal tone over which Eddie could shred and Alex could wail on the drums. All one needs to do is listen to the first song of their first album, and you'd get a pretty good idea of his playing... I think he actually plays eighth notes at some point during the song. In any case, I'm intrigued by the replacement: Van Halen's new bass player is none other than Wolfgang Van Halen, Eddie's 15-year-old son. According to Eddie, Wolfgang "is fucking dangerous. If I excel at the speed of sound, he excels at the speed of light. " More fascinating advice from Eddie can be found in this article...

And then there's Robert Plant. My god, does he look like shit. I'll try to find the picture from RS, but my first thought was "what the editors were thinking when they chose that photo?" In any case, he was really proud of the fact that for his latest album, he gave his band the titles of the would-be songs, and the band had to write the music to fit the songs. Pardon me, but that sounds like a really dumb idea considering some of the titles from his 2003 album: Tye Dye on the Highway, Dirt in a Hole, 29 Palms, Darkness Darkness, Sea of Love, and Big Log (thanks, Wikipedia). How do you compose to fit someone else's title?

Finally, mark your calendars: March 6, 2007 is - according to the Axl himself - the release date of Chinese Democracy, the album which G'n'R (well, really just Axl) has been working on since 1993. Yes, that's fourteen years ago. And at a reported cost of nearly $14 million, it better fucking impress me. Fourteen years!! That's a long time. That year, Kurt Cobain was still alive, Conan O'Brien started his show, and Barry White was on the Simpsons. Anyway, there are a couple of things that bother me: One, Axl said that the announcement of the date is "not a promise, a lie, or a guarantee." Then what the hell is it? Do I believe that the album will be released on March 6? No way. And two, his manager (whom he just fired) issued a statement defending Axl's integrity and credibility as an artist, including the statement that Axl "managed to have at least three good days' work [on the album] during the past year, but the record needed two or three days' more work before it was completed." The manager also detailed the "problems" that they encountered while working on the album:

"We planned the tour in February and we were supposed to finish the album in May, before it started. We sent our engineers to New York, where we all waited, for over a month, for the muse to come but she never arrived. We then scheduled sessions in London in August. August came and went and once again the muse did not show. We came back to LA but yet again she eluded us."

Those are not problems. Having a drummer die or having the studio burn to the ground, those are problems. Waiting for the muse to show up? Are they fucking serious?!? Either this is one of the best 14-year-long pranks ever conducted, or Axl is a lazy, insecure, insincere dope who's got his head so far up his own ass that his ego can't see out. Given that he only manages three days' good work per year, I know where my money is.

Fat Kid

2006-12-04T13:03:00.000-08:00

I was listening to the news on my ride to work this morning, and a report came on about how today's teens are eating too much and not getting enough exercise. Really, do any more studies and reports need to be done on this subject? Our kids are fat, no shit! Let's start working on those reports that figure out how to motivate the youth, incorporate more exercise into their days, and stop eating so much fast food.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that during the 90 seconds or so it took to broadcast the report, the "South Park" theme played in the background. That's right, Primus got some free airplay on the AM dial. Now, the report did not tie in the TV show - it didn't mention that kids who sit on their ass and watch TV all afternoon tend to be heavier (duh) or that Cartman is the fat kid on the show (duh) - they just felt the need to play the South Park theme. No mention of the show whatsoever.

I'm not sure how I feel about this, other than confused. If there's a connection, what is it? Are the newscasters implying that people who watch South Park are fat? Are they trying to broadcast a subliminal message? ...are they just havin' a bit of fun? Perhaps they're saying "make sure your kids exercise or else they'll end up like Cartman" (hopefully without the whole racist, misogynistic, egomaniacal, authoritah-seeking attitude that makes us keep watching the show) to the audience that recognizes the theme song?

And if the broadcast was implying some connection between TV and weight, since when is having a fat kid on a TV show a new thing? Anyone ever heard of Fat Albert? He was a good guy who always knew what to do! Anyone ever seen the Goonies? Chunk was the man! One of the "Friends" was fat in high school, right? (actually, scratch that last one... I think it was Courtney Cox, and she's now a skeleton) Anyone ever read Tolkien? Who saves the day? That's right, Sam... the fat Hobbit. There have always been - and there always will be - the fat kid in the story who saves the day (or, in Cartman's case, kills the parents of someone who pissed him off and turns them into chili).

Hmm.... after reading this rambling, I don't think that there's a point to it, other than to express my confusion over the intention of this morning's news broadcast. And on that note, it's lunchtime.

Who Is General Tso, And Why Are We Eating His Chicken?

2006-12-01T08:16:00.000-08:00

This exact question came up the other day at work when we got Chinese food. So of course, I went straight to Wikipedia for an answer. What I found was pretty interesting:

>>

It is unclear how the dish came to bear the name of Zuo Zongtang (左宗棠, 1812-1885), a Qing dynasty general. Zuo himself is unlikely ever to have tasted the dish. Also, there are contradictory accounts as to the origin of the dish. The author of the book Chinese Kitchen (Morrow, 1999), Eileen Yin-Fei Lo, states that the dish has Hunan origins (this speculation may have been because of the prevalence of hot and spicy flavors in Hunan cuisine). Lo states that the dish is a Hunan classic, zongtang ji (宗堂雞), or "ancestral hall chicken." Other sources credit the origin of the dish to New York City's Chinatown in the 1970s.

Regional differences

The dish is typically called General Gau's chicken in the Boston, Massachusetts area. In parts of Canada, this dish is known as General Tao's, and less commonly, General George's chicken. In other regions and restaurants, it is also known or mispronounced as General Tsao's, General Zhou's, General Gao's, General Chou's, General Tzo's, General To's, General So's, General Joe's, and General Toso's. It is also known as General Chow's prominently in the New Jersey area and simply General Chicken in parts of Northern California. In at least one restaurant in Illinois the dish is simply called Governor's Chicken. At the United States Naval Academy, the dish is served in the main mess hall, King Hall, as "Admiral Tso's Chicken," reflecting a nautical theme.

>>

Now, I'm not sure that Wikipedia is to be completely trusted. Some guy posted that Adolf Hitler was the ping-pong champion of Germany in his twenties, and that info remained on the site for several weeks. But it's a good site, and I did enjoy my General Gau's chicken (that part is accurate, at least). It's a damn shame that the General himself never got the chance to taste his chicken.

Gaijin Smash*

2006-11-29T07:51:00.000-08:00

I was totally stoked (how california does that sound?) to read that my pal Aubrey posted with a line from Jesus "El Saviorrrrrrrr" Christ Superstar. I read that line, and the melody just came right back even though it's been ages since i've heard that soundtrack. Great music - but the bass player on the British cast recording is far superior to the US recording.

Right. In any case, I was cleaning up my hard drive recently in preparation for transferring all of my files to my new computer (which I have not yet purchased), and I came across a bunch of stories and anecdotes from when I lived in Japan. I was thrilled because I thought most of that stuff had been lost or corrupted when my hard drive crashed. I kept somewhat of a half-assed journal/diary during that wacko time, and reading some of that stuff brought back some fun memories... including this:

November 1999

The Japanese language is pretty different than ours. Aside from that whole "completely different character system" thing, they have sounds that English doesn't have... and vice versa. For example, the Japanese do not distinguish between L and R, resulting in difficulty for some Japanese people when pronouncing something like 'fried rice' or 'roller coaster.' Of course, it works the other way as well - English speakers have a tough time saying the sound in the Japanese language... it sounds like R and L pronounced simultaneously, and it took me about a year to be able to do it correctly. There's also no distinction between F and H, and the V sound just plain doesn't exist. Any Vs in English are pronounced as Bs in Japan.

So... my job is to teach English; more specifically my job is to help the kids pronounce their English words the way that a native speaker would. Given the above, it naturally follows that Japanese people would have a tough time differentiating the word "love" from the word "rub." Back in late September, I tested this with a few classes: I would stand facing the blackboard with my back to the class, and I would say either "love" or "rub." The kids then had to vote on which word I said. Aside from a few outstanding students, the kids relied on pure luck... half of them got it, half didn't. It was really funny.

That was September. It's now November, and I've done this a few times with the kids. They're really getting better at hearing the difference, which is very cool. However, I was at the supermarket the other day with Nick and Karen [two other teachers from the US] and I ran into some of my students. Nick and Karen teach junior high, and many of the kids that they taught are now in my classes. So we were all talking, and one girl said in English:

"Andrew-sensei, thank you for the love rub lesson."

(pause for effect)

I had some explaining to do. How dirty does that sound?!?!?! That's not the kind of thing that a 17-year old Japanese high school girl says to a 22-year old teacher. Karen and Nick are not gonna let me live that down. Jeez.

*I have to credit Az with the subject line... it's his term, and it's brilliant.

Remember, Remember the 8th of November

2006-11-09T07:26:00.000-08:00

I was procrastinating this morning by checking out one of those "on this day in history, these things happened" websites. Felt it would be interesting to know what other important events happened on the birthday of Mike Rinke. So, without further ado:

November 8, 1938: The Nazis begin Krystallnacht. Off to a fantastic start.

November 8, 1977: Tara Reid is born. Shit. Two for two in the "suck" category.

November 8, 1994: The Republican party takes control of both houses of Congress. Twelve years later, the country says "what the fuck were we thinking??" and kicks them out with style.

November 8, 1793: The Louvre opens to the public. People are now able to see art that the French stole from the countries that they invaded.

November 8, 1895: A German scientist discovers x-rays accidentally. Superheroes caught on quickly and killed him.

November 8, 1960: John F. Kennedy is elected president. Mayor Quimby was only twelve years old, but he idolized Kennedy and found his true calling.

November 8, 1992: The fastest wheelie is performed by a Belgian motorcyclist who reaches a sustained speed of 157 mph on the rear wheel of his Suzuki. Unbeknownst to the driver, he would soon set another record for the largest splatter radius of blood and body parts.

November 8, 1656: Edmund Halley is born. In the 20th century, Bill Haley uses the widely accepted mis-pronunciation of Halley's name to complete his band, Bill Haley and his Comets.

I love my friends.

2006-11-08T23:55:00.000-08:00

That's all I really wanted to say. You people (and you know who you are... chances are that if you're reading this, we've known each other a while) are the best that anyone could have ever hoped for.

I need help. Seriously.

2006-11-07T07:09:00.000-08:00

This here’s a tale for all the fellas. I remember when, I remember when I lost my mind, I’ve flown over the cuckoo’s nest and I’m never ever coming back ‘cause we’re never gonna survive unless we get a little stone cold crazy. So take me down to the paradise city, where the streets have no name and the wild night is calling. Oooo-weee, de do do do, de da da da. Da da da, I don’t love you you don’t love me, so I had to kill her. She’d lost that lovin’ feeling, so I had to put her six feet under with the man in a box. Her life, in a nutshell, was too hard to handle, and anyone can see that nothing really matters… nothing really matters to me.

(verse two)

As I walk on through this wicked world, only the lonely people are strange when you’re a stranger. Everyone goes south every now and then; I’m goin’ down for the time… my friends are gonna be there too! Like a bridge over troubled water, I’ll be there for you when the night is cold and the land is dark and the moon is the only light you see. Take these broken wings and learn to fly over the rainbow, way up high. Up there, there’s so much room, where babies burp and flowers bloom, and you know every rose has its thorn.

(verse three)

I was born in a small town, but I’m movin’ on up to the east side of New York City, and everything is beautiful when you’re young and pretty. Life is a highway, and I wanna ride it all night long, rollin’ down the street smoking endo, sipping on gin and juice. I like cold beverages – a Malibu and coke for you, a G&T for me. When I was drinking when I was with you, living it up when the rent was due – how we gonna pay last year’s rent? This year’s rent? Next year’s rent? Rent rent rent rent rent! We’re not gonna take it anymore!

Wandering

2006-11-01T06:22:00.000-08:00

I've been putting a list together of things that 1) are facts and 2) I can't seem to get my mind around. They are random and wide-ranging.

1. The Mets blew it.
2. Bob Barker is retiring.
3. George Bush believes that I will go to hell when I die.
4. The first Simpsons episode aired when I was in 7th grade.
5. I'm starting to look at condos.
6. Evolution is still considered a theory.
7. My brother makes more money than me.
8. It is now professionally acceptable to use Google for research.
9. Paul McCartney is now 64.
10. I understand where Dilbert is coming from.
11. There is a kids' cartoon character called Captain Underpants.
12. For Halloween, Adam dressed as a kids' cartoon character called Captain Underpants.
13. Currently in production are Indiana Jones 4, Die Hard 4, and Rocky 6.
14. Next year we all turn thirty.
15. Dick Cheney shot his friend in the face, and the friend apologized to him.
16. Coca-Cola products occupy 3% of people's bellies.
17. There is no direct way to say "I love you" in Japanese.
18. Ol' Dirty Bastard is dead.
19. I have spent close to $900 on coffee in the past two years.
20. Prior to November 2004, I never touched coffee.
21. It was 69 degrees on Tuesday. It might hit 40 today.
22. We are all, in some way or another, going to Reseda.
23. The Klan still exists.
24. Paris Hilton is famous.
25. There's still a team called the "Redskins."
26. Mozart composed over six hundred pieces of music and died at age 35.
27. The largest snake ever recorded was thirty feet long.
28. Some people still don't believe that global warming exists.
29. There is more power in my laptop than there was on the Apollo spacecraft.

(sigh)

2006-10-26T07:14:00.000-07:00

How anticlimactic.

(Reuters) - "New Jersey's highest court on Wednesday guaranteed gay couples the same rights as married heterosexuals, but left it up to state lawmakers to decide if such unions can be called marriage."

At least it's a rather significant step in the right direction... now it's in the hands of the lawyers. Does that make me feel good? Normally it wouldn't, but at least NJ recognizes that equal rights must be granted, unlike some states. So kiss my ass, Oklahoma... and who knows, you might enjoy it. Go NJ Legal!

I Love New Jersey... Perhaps.

2006-10-25T08:04:00.000-07:00

New Jersey is either about to become either a sensible state or join the ridiculous list. Today the decision will be made as to whether or not gay people can get married there. I saw a picture of protesters outside the courthouse this morning. One had a big banner that read "God Hates Fags" and a t-shirt advertising a website of the same name. WTBF? (What The Bloody Fuck?) How do these people live with themselves??

They say that they "are not offended... but God is." How seriously, utterly flawed. This argument has more holes than a tunnel in Boston. First and foremost, If there is a God, s/he/it did not create the words "faggot" and "dyke." Those are slurs, created by people who are uncomfortable by the fact that two people might love each other, same sex organs and all. Those words do not appear in the Bible (text search tools are amazing, hm?), which is the only book that the almighty (yet surprisingly non-prolific) lord hath supposedly published. People who use those kinds of words are ignorant and scared... and scary in their ignorance.

All the "family organizations" tout the "sanctity of marriage." Now there's a joke. What's the divorce rate now? According to the NY Times, 42% as of last year. You'd think that for such a venerable institution, it would have to work more than 58% of the time, especially if God is supervising. Fifty-eight percent is a failing grade in most places. When people (famous or not, but I must admit to thinking about the Britney incident in Vegas) get married in a drunken stupor or for shits & giggles and then call it off two days later, where's the sanctity? Or, when people marry for money and for all sorts of reasons except love, then WTF? And - if you believe that God was beaming down on said marriages - then was s/he/it in a drunken stupor as well? Does God drink? Considering the state of affairs in the world today, I can't see how God couldn't drink. In my opinion, if s/he/it exists, the Judeo-Christian God (who kinda looks like John Coltrane for some reason) is kickin' it with Mohammed and Shiva while Buddha is making a Baja Fresh run because he lost a bet that the Mets would win in '06. And the tacos are pretty fucking tasty in Heaven.

Um... that was a tangent. Back to the diatribe.

One of the Republican stalwarts, bill o'reilly, blustered that "The next step will be people marrying animals." That sounds like a bad SNL skit (with Horatio Sanz as the pig). Where does that idea come from? How does one go from same-sex attraction to inter-species attraction? Do homophobes really believe that because a man is attracted to another man, he will therefore be attracted to a horse? He might be hung like a horse, but that doesn't mean that he wants to be with the horse itself. Maybe I'm not that bright, but I simply don't understand the connection!

Another angle: the Bible says lots of things (and i'm not getting into my views on who wrote the Bible and how much was ignored or drunkenly thrown away in the process). But can you pick and choose from the Bible? For example, it also contains plenty of mentions about women's nonexistent rights, the importance of slavery, and (my favorite) killing other people because they don't believe in the Judeo-Christian God. All of those things are, well, unjust and have mostly been eradicated from the US. Only took 150 years from the founding of this country to give women the right to vote, and the civil rights movement wasn't actually that long ago in the scheme of things. Punishments in the Bible are pretty darn harsh, but they're thankfully considered cruel and unusual today and are not practiced. So why keep one of the prejudices? It's basically insisting that all of the lessons in the Bible should be taken with huge grains of salt and that God was just playin' around... except for a few words about homosexuals. Those apparently warrant messengers of God's supposed hatred in the form of cruel people with bad t-shirts.

Finally: even if they're right and their God is offended, their argument does not hold water. Perhaps they don't understand the concept of "separation of church and state." Get your holy hand out of the presidential closet. Yes, "In God We Trust" and we pledge allegiance to one nation under God, but these are expressions based on the idea that we are all allowed to choose our religion freely (or to not have any at all) and still keep that separate from the political arena. The last time I checked we don't have a national religion. Now, religious events that harm people (ritual cannibalism, mass suicide, etc) are outlawed, and rightfully so, but a marriage does not harm anyone. People who say "yes, but now that gay couple will be discriminated against, and their children will be discriminated against in school" are the most likely to be the ones who do the discrimination and teach their kids that gay people are evil. I bet there's a few who molest little kids and then go home to their jobs as webmaster of websites like godhatesfags dot org.

So, on the brink of either my contempt for or my admiration of the state of New Jersey, I still don't understand why this is an issue. There are so many things in society that need immediate attention - the wars and genocide all over the world (bullets don't care about sexual orientation), the environment (global warming is fucking everyone, that bisexual slut), and the appalling state of education in this country (trust me) - and the fact that countless hours are being spent on this debate is absolutely inane. Let people love, and value the love between two people. Grant them the same rights and the same language; they're lucky enough to have found each other. We're pulling for you, New Jersey. Make us proud.

If We're Not Supposed to Eat Animals, Then Why Are They Made of Meat?

2006-10-23T11:38:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I’ve been busy. Eat me. It has come to my attention that there are people in this world called “vegetarians” who – horror of horrors – do not eat meat. This frightens me.

We are animals. We have teeth that are meant to tear muscle and flesh. We even talk about vegetables having “skin” and nuts having “meat.” Don’t get me wrong, I love a good salad, and I’ve even been eating my share of tofu – but c’mon, life without chicken? Spicy tuna rolls? A good steak once in a while? A bacon cheeseburger on Yom Kippur? (heh-heh) You have to balance the greens with the red!

And people who eat fish but not beef? There’s something I don’t get. Cows are animals. Fish are animals. Is it just because cows are red meat? That’s discrimination, especially against tuna (best eaten raw, by the way. gotta love the Japanese, if only for the sole reason that they came up with the idea of eating the fish straight out of the fucking water, no fire, no salt, nothing)... and speaking of red meat, have you seen the color of raw tuna? To paraphrase Chris Rock, there’s nothing wrong with red meat… just don’t eat green meat.

For those very few people who claim that they’re “allergic” to meat or that they don’t like it, the answer is simple: they just haven’t had enough. One could argue that the same could be said about my allergic reaction to eggplant; however, eggplant is the only singularly purple food in existence, leading me to believe that it is an unholy creation (much like Vegemite or mayonnaise) and my body realizes this. By ‘singularly purple,’ I mean that purple grapes, purple plums etc. are just one variant of a greater group (there are green grapes, white plums, etc) whereas all eggplants are purple – hence they are singularly purple.* Further evidence that purple food is evil can be found if one reads a recent article about Mariah Carey, who is reportedly on a purple food diet to get rid of her wrinkles. Mariah Carey is also inherently evil, so perhaps the purple food is good for her.

There are a small number of vegetarians whom I respect, however. These are not the people who eschew meat because they love animals. Rather, they are the people who are vegetarians because they hate plants. To have such passion for eradicating the world of its greenery is an amazing thing.

Now, it's true that meat-eaters go to the extreme sometimes as well. Any football fan has probably heard of the "turducken," which (contrary to popular belief) is not the creation of the bumbling, idiotic John Madden... although he looks as though he's been stuffed with Dennis Miller and Dan Dierdorf. Chicken-fried-steak doesn't sit well with me either. And on a recent episode of the Daily Show, Jon Stewart showcased the latest Jimmy Dean creation designed to destroy the arteries of the gluttonous American public... the sausage-wrapped-in-a-chocolate-chip-pancake on a stick. And it's microwaveable. If that doesn't make you gag, nothing will.

So all things in moderation, people (Raz, this means you). Don’t go clogging those arteries, and eat your veggies… but every now and then get some wings and a burger, and don’t be stingy with the A-1 sauce (drool).

*(note: after checking wiki-wiki-wild-wikipedia, I found out that there are variants of eggplant grown in Asia that are not purple; however, they are mostly hybrids and therefore do not count… it’s my rant and I make the rules)

They Found Me.

2006-09-18T18:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning, 8:27 AM. Not the best time of day for me, especially after being up 'til nearly 3 and sleeping on the couch. Doorbell rings, loud knocking on my door. I guess in hindsight that I should've expected Jehovah's Witnesses, but in my grogginess I wasn't really expecting anything.

When I opened the door, it was really bright and I couldn't look all the way up to see who was there (the sun backlit their faces, like renegade angels), so the first things I saw were some neatly pressed blue pants, a pamphlet with "Jehovah's Kingdom" in gaudy letters, and a copy of the Watchtower. Fuck, I thought. They found me. And they get to see me in all the glory that boxers and a ratty t-shirt afford. When I could finally see them, they were blond. They pissed me off right away.

I didn't hear much of what they said, but I remember saying, "Oh no" and "No thanks" at some point. For some reason, the movie Orgazmo came to mind. After heading back inside, I wondered two things: First, on a purely selfish note, I wondered if they woke up my neighbors on the second and third floors too. Seems only right that they'd ring all three buzzers. Second, I wondered why it took so long for them to get to me. Perhaps I'm never around when they visit during the day. But I had only been in Japan for less than three months before a little Japanese Jehovah's Witness nervously knocked on my door (boy, was she shocked to find a hung-over gaijin with very little tolerance for sunlight at 7AM on a saturday).

In any case, I hope the Malden address is now off their list. At least till the next edition of Watchtower comes out. I'll be waiting with a bottle of Jack and a billy club... and if I'm lucky, I'll have some satanic pamphlets ready to throw back at them.

A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.

2006-09-07T06:52:00.000-07:00

Happy September, everyone. There's not much to talk about.

...wait a minute, there's plenty! Let's begin with the untimely demise of Steve "Crikey" Irwin. How sad. Before he came along, there were only one or two nature shows - he really helped push the awareness of animals and the importance of nature in general to the forefront (and by the forefront, I mean into the televisions of millions of people around the world). I know one person who was inspired to become a marine biologist because of shows like his (she's probably not wrestling crocodiles, but you get the point). Jungle Jack Hanna called him a "true zoologist." So for all the fun that we made of him, he really did a lot of good for the world.

Kinda fucked up that he died of a stingray bite, though. That's like a gorilla beating the shit out of Jane Goodall, or Jacques Cousteau drowning. What's next - Dale Earnhardt Jr. gets hit by a car? A piano falls on Billy Joel?

And this morning when I was checking out the news, I learned that Paris Hilton got busted for DUI. I laughed and laughed. I know that's fucked up too, but she belongs in the same category as Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes, and their child's golden poop. She's an untalented ass-clown who doesn't even deserve my writing about her. One day she's going to do something that she really regrets, like film a sex tape. Hopefully she goes away into obscurity in the near future so that I don't have to read about her every time I open a newspaper or turn on the tv.

Then, the shuttle launch was delayed yet again today. Sucks for my brother - he was in a training session in Florida and today was their last day, so they went to the Kennedy Space center. They had primo seats to watch the action, but nine minutes before the shuttle was supposed to launch, they scrapped it because of some faulty valve or something. Where's their sense of adventure, huh? Hopefully it'll go up tomorrow without a hitch.

Finally, football is back. Not just the Steelers (I maintain that Bill Cowher might be the only man who could out-man Chuck Norris... maybe), but college football. Love the stuff. Notre Dame and Penn State. Ohio and Michigan. Florida and Florida State. Buncha kids looking for their big chance - much more entertaining. Pat Fitzgerald is now the coach of Northwestern's team... I remember when he was one of the stars of the team back in 1996, and I remember an entire stadium cringing when an opposing player chop-blocked him and he broke his leg and ankle and tore every ligament in his foot. But he's the man now, so go Cats!

Aw, crap (redux).

2006-09-01T08:28:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd seen it all. I've seen an old man smoking a real corncob pipe. I've seen Sydney from the top of the Harbour Bridge. I've seen the summit of Mount Fuji from 200 feet below it. I've heard kids say things that are so radiantly brilliant that you wonder what happens when we become adults and lose the ability to say those things. I've seen a mother kick her kid in the back for getting a few math problems wrong. I've seen puppies being born. I've seen fire and i've seen rain. I've seen a guy get hit by a train. I've seen Stevie Wonder perform.

But now, I'm hopelessly embarrassed and ashamed for humanity. I saw this when I opened up yahoo this morning. I think something inside me died. (sigh) Fuck Tom Cruise, fuck Katie Holmes, and get that kid out of their hands before she becomes the next Paris Hilton. There is something deeply, deeply wrong with the world when this shit (literally) is foisted upon the public.

Just Say Arrrrrr!

2006-08-31T10:49:00.000-07:00

There are all sorts of holidays and days of recognition out there. They range from the sublime (e.g. Martin Luther King Day, Yom Kippur) to the ridiculous (e.g. Patriots Day -- I'm not talking about Sept 11, which on my desk calendar is now called Patriots Day... I'm talking about the "holiday" in April that is "celebrated" by two or three New England states. Schools close, businesses close, and I still can't figure it out.) I'm sure that you could find some excuse to celebrate any given day of the year. (by the way, I share a birthday with both Mike Rinke and Tara Reid. Coincidence? ....yeah, probably... but it's an excuse to dress like a doctor and sleep with anything that moves (and that's just the Rinke part! Ohhhh!!!!))

But I've recently found the best excuse to celebrate: International Talk Like A Pirate Day.

That's right, International Talk Like A Pirate Day. It's right around the corner ("Only 3 weeks till ITLAP Day! Get your shopping done now!") and I fully plan on talking like a pirate all day on September 19. It's going to be especially interesting because I have to go on an airplane that day. What will happen if I wind up in an exit row and the flight attendant needs me to say "yes" when s/he asks if I'm willing to perform the duties? What will happen when my sword sets off the metal detector? Will the flight attendant be pissed if I call her "wench"? These are things that I wonder about. In any case, you've gotta love a holiday that basically owes itself to Dave Barry. Read the site - it's good for a few laughs, and it definitely shows that people have a whole lot of time on their hands.

We Named The Dog Indiana!

2006-08-29T10:53:00.000-07:00

So today while playing around on IMDB, I found that a special edition of “Romancing the Stone” will be released soon on DVD. That’s all well and good. It’s a relatively funny movie, with action and adventure and humor in the vein of the Indiana Jones movies. But do you think they could have been a little more creative in their packaging? Wonder if Spielberg will be pissed.

Anyway, that’s my big thought for the day. It’s not a very big thought because I am a bear of very little brain and big words bother me, but it’s a start.

Florida, Eat Your Heart Out

2006-08-25T09:29:00.000-07:00

Talk about election scandals! There are 10,000 astronomers in the IAU. Less than 300 voted yesterday on the new definition of a planet. The thousands who couldn't make it to Prague for the vote ("what? all the flights to prague are booked?!?") were not allowed to vote at all. That's bullshit. First of all, how often are the IAU members presented with stuff on which to vote? Probably not very often, considering that the general assembly meets only once every three years, and the last planet to be named was, um... Pluto (and that was in 1930). Second of all, this is a group of 10,000 and they have to go to Prague or else they don't get to vote?? Shit, I sent an absentee ballot to the USA for election day when I lived in Japan! There are millions of absentee and other types of ballots that needed to be counted in the US elections (and we all know how well that turned out). Are you telling me that a bunch of rocket scientists can't figure out a way to send a secure ballot by email?

I agree with Alan Stern, a leading NASA figure:

"If everyone had to travel to Washington DC every time we wanted to vote for
President, we would have very different results because no one would vote. In
today's world that is idiotic. I have nothing but ridicule for this
decision."

Granted, he's also the head of the New Horizons mission that recently launched a space probe to Pluto, but he's got a point.

The new definition - now that i've read up on it and understand it a little better - also seems to be really inconsistent. It states that a true 'planet' must have "cleared the neighborhood around its orbit." Well... Jupiter has something like 80,000 tiny asteroids that accompany it. Earth travels with a whole bunch of asteroids that we hope never hit us. And since Pluto crosses Neptune's orbit, shouldn't they both be disqualified according to the new decision?

I dunno... it's very confusing. And yes - I know that this stuff pales in comparison to the importance of what's going on right here on this planet. It doesn't affect the poverty levels or the AIDS crisis in the slightest or improve the situations in the Middle East or New Orleans at all. The $700 million that went toward the Pluto mission could've built countless schools and helped many people. But I'm a nerd and find it interesting. And what'll happen when aliens find the Voyager plaque that says "9 planets"? Will they think "those earthlings are fuckin' liars!!" And now that Pluto is no longer a planet, schoolchildren are upset (heck, the public schools in NYC bombarded the Hayden Planetarium in 2000 when it opened and didn't have Pluto as a planet (and it still doesn't)) and more likely confused. And what'll happen when they go after Uranus (huh-huh)? And are they going to rewrite the textbooks? It's a fascinating debate. (sigh)

And when all else fails, include a link to bunnies.

And Then There Were Eight.

2006-08-24T09:02:00.000-07:00

This day will go down in infamy as 'the day Pluto died.' That's right, the brilliant people at the International Astronomical Union have voted on a new definition of the word 'planet.' Guess they figured it was about time we had one, since people have only been looking at the skies since the fucking dawn of time. Basically, a classical planet is now defined as "a celestial body that (a) is in orbit around the Sun, (b) has sufficient mass for its self-gravity to overcome rigid body forces so that it assumes a hydrostatic equilibrium (nearly round) shape, and (c) has cleared the neighbourhood around its orbit." According to this definition, there are eight classical planets - Mercury through Neptune.

Pluto apparently doesn't cut it anymore. It - along with those other things out there like its partner Charon, the recently discovered ice ball nicknamed Xena, and the object nicknamed Sedna discovered in 2003 - is now classified as a "plutonian object," or a "trans-Neptunian object." This was all announced today, so I'm still a little unclear on what to call Pluto & company. But the point is that Pluto & company don't fit the definition of a classical planet - they have not cleared the neighborhood around their orbits. Pluto's orbit is tilted so that it crosses Neptune's, and Pluto and Charon are actually a double system: they revolve around each other. Earth's moon revolves around a center of gravity that is inside the planet Earth, making it a real satellite. Charon and Pluto revolve around a point in space, so they are a double system. I think Sedna and Xena are also not free and clear - they're part of the Kuiper Belt, a big cloud of millions of small bodies that float way out past Neptune's orbit. Pluto and Charon are actually on the inner part of the Belt too.

So... bye bye Pluto. We hardly knew ye. And when the New Horizons spacecraft that was launched just a few months ago reaches you in 2015, we probably won't give a damn if you are a dwarf planet or a trans-Neptunian object or something else entirely. We just wanna know more.

The captain started feeling around on all the trees!
"We're on Pluto!"
"How can you tell?"
"From the bark, you dummies!"

Let's Fighting Love, or I Heart YouTube.

2006-08-20T21:18:00.000-07:00

On Friday of last week, the producer and the director of next year's Transformers movie gave a live internet chat about which robots would make appearances. It was pretty nifty, and it gave me a chance to think back on how excellent the original series was. Later in the day, i found myself on YouTube, and i'm now hopelessly addicted and fascinated with the site. I found the original opening sequence for the original show in Japan, even before it crossed the Pacific. It looks pretty similar, but the theme song is all in Japanese. Watch it here. I understand most of what the singer is saying, but the song is thoroughly out of place. The US version got it right, talking about waging battles, destroying evil forces, and, well... transforming ("more than meets the eye"). This is what the Japanese do - they'll insert English into every song just because it sounds cool, not necessarily because it fits or because it makes sense. Some people get used to it, but it was one of those things that always bugged me. Their culture utilizes much more of the English language than ours does of the Japanese language and English is taught in every school, but they certainly come up with some fascinating skewerings. I'm sure that there are plenty of instances where the reverse is true, but have you ever been in a Japanese school staff meeting and a kid walks in wearing a "Big Apple Megafucker" T-shirt? I have. I had to leave because I was laughing uncontrollably.

Anyway, this inevitably got me thinking about South Park. Fast forward twenty years or so and there's a great anime parody in one of the more recent episodes, and it contains one of the best Engrish songs I've ever heard... and hats off to Stone and Parker for pulling this one off. If you've watched the inane Japanese Transformers theme song, you'll have a much better appreciation for the ninja episode.

And then while I was having so much fun on YouTube, I thought about Kikkoman. The makers of this video have no relationship with the soy sauce company at all - but they really should. It's Mister Sparkle-quality stuff. Watch the English version first for the subtitles, then watch the Japanese version and see how truly weird the clip is. Aside from the language, not much is different... except for the cat's punishment after Kikkoman gets angry. If you like cats, don't watch the Japanese version.

cannot resist....... too... cute!

2006-08-18T17:51:00.000-07:00

I was skeptical about a website called cuteoverload.com at first - can you blame me? But it won me over. It's seriously the perfect thing to look at when you've had a rough day or feel like you need a hug. Puppies, lots and lots of puppies. Kittens too. I'd definitely have a dog of my own if it weren't for two things - the landlord won't allow 'em, and the hours I work would be unfair to the pup. But one day, I'd love to have a little Jack Russell terrier or a lab named Coltrane. Anyway, the "product cuteness" section just shows how Japan hands our asses to us in the world of things cute. One of these days I'll do a big thing on the fantastically useless inventions that the Japanese are famous for coming up with.

Speaking of... aren't these great? You can find 'em at dynamism.com. Seems a little unwieldy to pull out a piece of futomaki in order to store your powerpoint, but the shock value alone would be worth it. Go figure that the uni is really expensive.

And finally, if you're not smiling yet, look at this.

Simple Pleasures

2006-08-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

Get a hidden camera or two, some velcro, and some old pants, and, well... enjoy. The end is particularly funny.

Jumping on the Bandwagon... er, Memewagon

2006-08-16T08:17:00.000-07:00

Thanks Mike and Jay. I’d like to say that this list changes all the freakin’ time. These are my thoughts as of today, right now.

1. Favorite Beatles song: Revolution
2. Favorite Rolling Stones song: Sympathy For The Devil
3. Favorite Doors song: People Are Strange
4. Favorite Bob Dylan song: My Back Pages
5. Favorite Led Zeppelin song: The Rain Song
6. TV Theme Song: Ren & Stimpy (opening and closing themes)
7. Favorite Prince Song: Sexy MF
8. Favorite Madonna Song: Beautiful Stranger
9. Favorite Michael Jackson Song: Billie Jean
10. Favorite Queen Song: Fat Bottomed Girls
11. Favorite Motorhead Song: Ace of Spades (duh)
12. Favorite Ozzy Song: No More Tears
13. Favorite Public Enemy Song: By The Time I Get To Arizona
14. Favorite Song from a cartoon: The Log Song or The Cheat Is Not Dead
15. Favorite Bruce Springsteen song: Thunder Road
16. Favorite Depeche Mode song: Personal Jesus
17. Favorite Cure song: Friday I’m In Love
18. Favorite song that most of your friends haven't heard: World United Already (by Wheat)
19. Favorite Smiths song: What Difference Does It Make
20. Favorite Beastie Boys song: Get it Together
21. Favorite Clash song: Train In Vain
22. Favorite Police song: King of Pain
23. Favorite Eurythmics song: Sweet Dreams
24. Favorite Beach Boys song: Good Vibrations
25. Favorite Cyndi Lauper song: Time After Time
26. Favorite song from a movie: can’t decide b/w Ghostbusters and Everyone Has AIDS
27. Favorite Duran Duran song: Rio (duh)
28. Favorite Peter Tosh song: Simmer Down
29. Favorite Johnny Cash song: Folsom Prison Blues
30. Favorite song from an 80's one hit wonder: Come On Eileen
31. Favorite song from a video game: Super Mario Bros Theme!
32. Favorite Kinks song: L-O-L-A
33. Favorite Genesis song: Land of Confusion
34. Favorite Thin Lizzy song: Whiskey in the Jar
35. Favorite INXS song: Devil Inside
36. Favorite Weird Al song: Dare to be Stupid
37. Favorite Peter Gabriel song: Steam
38. Favorite John Lennon song: Working Class Hero
39. Favorite Pink Floyd song: Comfortably Numb
40. Favorite cover song: Little Wing (SRV version)
41. Favorite White Stripes: Seven Nation Army
42. Favorite dance song: Dance, MF, Dance (yes, the Femmes… not a huge dance fan, so eat me)
43. Favorite U2 song: Van Diemen’s Land
44. Favorite song from an actor turned musician: King Tut
45. Favorite disco song: Stayin’ Alive
46. Favorite Power Ballad: Silent Lucidity
47. Favorite Guns N' Roses song: I Used To Love Her
48. Favorite The Who song: Drowned
49. Favorite Elton John song: Rocket Man
50. Favorite song, period: Jersey Girl (Tom Waits’ original)

Do It For The Children

2006-08-14T07:46:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest debates of our time rages on among the scientists and astronomers: Is Pluto a planet, and if so, what guidelines should be set for including or excluding other celestial bodies? One side says that it shouldn’t be a planet because it’s too small, it’s thoroughly unlike the four preceding planets in composition, and its orbit is skewed so that it sometimes passes closer to the sun than its neighbor Neptune. The other side says that it is a planet because it was not formed by the process that makes stars, gravity is responsible for its shape, it has a little moon, and, well… it orbits the sun. The problem is the Kuiper Belt. It’s a region of space beyond Neptune’s orbit that is populated by thousands of rocks, comets, and other little pieces of stuff. Pluto is on the inner limits of the Kuiper Belt, and for many years it’s been both the 9^th Planet and a Kuiper Belt Object. So where does the line get drawn?

Interestingly enough, last year an astronomer discovered an object beyond Pluto’s orbit that also orbits the sun. Turns out that it’s bigger than Pluto and made of the same stuff. The object – officially named 2003 UB313 for now, but the guy who discovered it calls it Xena (yes, after the warrior princess) – is also part of the Kuiper Belt. Therefore, if Pluto remains an official planet, would Xena become the 10^th planet? It would only be fair to her/it! And then what’s stopping the astronomers from naming the 20-30 other large Kuiper Belt Objects as planets? The flip side is that if Xena is discounted from being an official planet, then Pluto should also be discounted (along with all other KB Objects) and we’d have a solar system with eight planets.

I think the debate is fascinating, and it shows that nothing is static amongst the astronomers. The big poster I had when I was a kid showed nine planets, but I was recently at the Hayden Planetarium in NYC and guess what? Pluto is nowhere to be found. I’m definitely of the opinion that Pluto remain a planet – why can’t there be more than one kind of planet? Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune can be “gas planets” (especially Uranus – there’s a gaseous name), and Pluto, Xena, and other KB Objects can be “ice planets.” Imagine the science fiction stories that would arise if the solar system suddenly included 37 planets.

Say Cheese

2006-08-10T06:26:00.000-07:00

I was at CVS yesterday waiting to pick up some photos. I still use a "real" camera with manual focus and film. Anyway, the one-hour photo service is apparently a sham, so although I dropped my film off at 2 and went to get it at 6, it still wasn't ready. Wasn't in any hurry, so I stuck around for a few minutes while they scrambled to get the pictures together. It was then that I realized that the people processing the film get the chance to look at all of my photos. Not like this was a shock to me, but I've never really thought about it. You drop off your film, you go pick it up, and then you open the package as if your eyes are the first to see the results. But one or two 18-year-olds ("pull up your pants!") likely chuckled at your photos... you just didn't see it happen. And it's not like i had any embarrassing pictures (well, there was that one shot where i painted my penis blue and white so that it looked like an elongated smurf), but watching a complete stranger go through my pictures was a very strange feeling. I guess it's similar to restaurants - you place an order, the food comes, you never see it being prepared (except for sushi bars), and you don't want to see it being prepared. But maybe it's just me - guess I like the suspense - and I'm definitely on the strange side. So stick with digital cameras or shake it like a polaroid picture... or not.

And why can't this be every day?

He Shoots, He Scores!!

2006-08-09T08:59:00.000-07:00

This is fantastic for any SportsCenter fan, and even if you're not it's still a lot of fun.

Origins

2006-08-08T09:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, so people have asked about the name of the blog. Cookie is a rabbit who lives in Toronto with my colleague Amanda. A real rabbit, not the Donnie Darko kind. Anyway, last year I went out to Toronto to visit Sean and Gordon, and we stayed at Amanda’s place while she was away. Her gracious offer was only contingent on one thing – we had to look after Cookie. Not a difficult task. Anyway, Sean and I stayed out all night drinking and talking and having a good time (much easier to stay out all night in Toronto than in Boston, by the way), and we finally got back around 5AM. We stayed up for a while longer drinking, playing guitar, and talking philosophy, and at one point there was a lull in the conversation. We both looked at Cookie and simultaneously said “What would Cookie do?” And there you have it. As awesome as Aubrey's blog is, there is no titular relation. The “there is water underground” is from the Talking Heads and has no real relation to Cookie either; it’s just a few words from a great song. In any case, I’d kinda like to get some shirts made up with “W.W.C.D.?” and have little rabbit ears coming out of the letter C.

And now for something completely different… Imagine a flower that’s seven feet tall and, depending on the news coverage, smells like "rotting flesh" or “several days’ old roadkill on a hot, sunny day.” Thankfully, the "corpse flower" only blooms once every few years for a couple of days at a time. I guess there’s a place for everything in nature… and I’m glad that the place for this plant is not in my apartment (and I feel sorry for the people at Virginia Tech who have to smell the damn thing). Georgia O’Keefe would probably love this plant.

Things that make you go hmm...

2006-08-04T06:41:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning (I know, begin blues riff right here) and found a very peculiar sight when I opened my front door.

Yes, it’s a large box of unopened beef jerky packages. (Admittedly, my first thought was “is it still good?”) I don’t buy beef jerky – and if I did, I doubt I’d buy it by the crate – but I like it. Unfortunately, the jerky expired about a month ago, so into the trash it went. I am trying to figure out who placed it on my front steps – I live on the first floor of a 3-apartment house, and the people occupying the other two floors are all away this week. Also, there’s a high fence between the house next door and mine, so someone would have to come out to the street, around the front of the fence, and back to my steps. This seems like a weird thing to do when garbage pickup occurs right on the street. But hey, maybe alcohol was involved in some prank that went awry and I’m the wrong recipient of a case of jerky. In any case, all I could think of was the movie Trading Places (can’t believe that movie was made 23 years ago… damn, I’m old).

Here kitty kitty...

2006-08-01T10:55:00.000-07:00

There are people with way too much time on their hands. I mean, I do procrastinate, but I feel like I'm pretty busy most days. On the weekends, especially in the summer, I like to get out and not be in front of a TV or a computer. But some people, well.... they create things like the Infinite Cat Project. I'm utterly fascinated.

Basically, there was one person who posted a picture of his cat (Frankie) on the internet. Then, another person sent him a photo of his own cat looking at Frankie's picture. Then another person sent a photo of her cat looking at that photo, and, well... you know when you're in a bathroom with mirrors that face each other and it seems to go on to infinity? Or when you're watching that scene in Spaceballs when they look at the video of Spaceballs? ("You're looking at now now. Everything you see now is happening now." "What happened to then?" "We passed then!" "When?" "Just now!") Yeah, it's kinda like that. Click on the 'select a cat group' box and then choose the first group.

I'm not sure why I'm fascinated with this site... probably because it's completely random and probably says something about infinity or technology or the mystery that computers must be to cats. Or maybe it's because I'm just a dork.

...yep, dork it is. (sigh)

Transform and roll out!

2006-07-31T12:42:00.000-07:00

So I’ve been completely geeking recently. Saw a preview for the Transformers movie that’s coming out next July… it looks awesome. The best part, however, was at the end of the preview:

Movie screen shows the title Transformers

Audience: “YEEEEAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!”

Movie screen shows a Michael Bay film

Audience: “….boooo!”

Yes, I know he’s the creative genius behind such travesties as Pearl Harbor and Armageddon. But give the guy some credit – he directed The Rock, which is one of the better action films I’ve seen (Ed Harris? Sean Connery? ….and Nicolas Cage, whom I can’t stand but for some reason rules in this movie? Awesome casting and a great score… and some good quotes (“Losers always whine about ‘doing their best.’ Winners go home and fuck the prom queen.”)) and Bad Boys, another good buddy-cop movie.

So throw in some CGI robots, get the real military to do the stunts, get Shia LeBeouf to play Spike, get Jon Voight and John Turturro, and hire the guy who originally voiced Optimus Prime to reprise his role, and I’d say Mr. Bay is off to a good start (my only concern – Bernie Mac?!?!?). Now if he can only get Sam Jackson to voice Jazz and Alan Rickman to voice Megatron (bad guys have to have British accents, right?) we’ve got a sure-fire winner. I hope it gets a big fat ‘R’ rating and the robots swear like sailors (“get these motherfucking decepticons off my motherfucking planet!”) The last movie that I attended the first screening of was The Matrix, and you can bet that I’ll be at the very first screening of this one.

I also have to give props to a recently discovered website which further indulges my geekdom: Retrojunk.com is a mecca for any child of the 80s and anyone who thinks that Thundercats and NES are better than any of the crap out there today. Make sure you've got plenty of procrastinating time.

Ouch.

2006-07-28T17:03:00.000-07:00

Wow.

Watch this.

This is one of the reasons why I sometimes miss living in Japan. Basically, their TV consists of four types of shows*: News, Cooking shows (think Iron Chef... but they're serious), "dramas" which are basically one-season stories (the same actors will come back the next year and do a drama with completely different characters and storylines; long-running sitcoms like Simpsons or Friends basically don't exist) and - everyone's favorite - game shows. As you might be able to tell, Japanese game shows are a little different than ours... people get hurt. Anyone ever see MXC? That's Most eXtreme Challenge; check out SpikeTV if you have the chance (and look for James Harvey - my cousin - in the credits; he does the graphic design). There was a game show in Japan in the 90s called Takeshi's Castle... MXC takes those episodes and overdubs them with hysterical, innuendo-laced, ridiculous English. People face physical challenges (not like Double Dare) where they actually will get hurt. In one episode, the contestants had to run full speed at one of four doors. Two doors were made of paper; two were made of wood and were bolted shut. Those who made it through the first set of doors had another four doors to choose from... and then another. It was awesome. Another game show - Challenger on Fire - relied on teamwork. Each team had six members. Five members would have to do some menial task, like assembling mops or taking the lids off of jars, in a certain amount of time. The sixth member would sit in a booth. If the team was unable to accomplish the task in the allotted time, something would fall on the head of the person in the booth. I recall episodes in which the following objects were dropped: cottage cheese. a cat... a real cat. squid (alive and dead). and my favorite, a bowling ball. Granted, they dropped it from an inch or two above her head, but a fucking bowling ball.

So yeah, Japanese game shows rule. None of the gross-out of fear factor, none of the idiocy of wheel of fortune, none of the faux drama of reality shows. Say it right, or get hit in the nuts. That's a sure-fire recipe for success. Just ask Robot Chicken (you gotta wait till the end).

*anime is another animal completely. it's everywhere and it freaks the hell out of me. i saw one once with a character called rape-man. it had tentacles. yuck.

Funny, ha-ha

2006-07-25T09:44:00.000-07:00

I started the day out by putting my underwear on backwards. First time ever! ...even better was when I realized it... just now, around noon. Yippee! Changing & being half-naked* in the office bathroom is a very weird feeling.

* Naked simply means that you don't have any clothes on. Nekkid is naked with a purpose. :-)

Fuck the (Food) Police

2006-07-24T14:50:00.000-07:00

I used to think that Evanston, IL had the most ridiculous laws in the country (no tree-climbing, no trick-or-treating). Massachusetts surprised me when I first moved here - you can't buy alcohol on Sundays. That's changed in the three years that i've been here (and no, not because of me). However, the city of Chicago has recently outlawed foie gras.

I don't even like foie gras, but what the fuck? Did I miss something? Since when have city aldermen given two cents about people's eating preferences? When did education, health care, and crime prevention give way to regulations about a "delicacy" that maybe a thousand people eat in a year? First of all, McDonalds has basically taken over the planet, with BK and Wendy's providing the necessary competition. Not exactly health food, but cities seem to have no problem with sticking McD next to gyms, in airports, and (my favorite) in hospitals. You want a healthy city? Get rid of the fast food, and people will be forced to find alternatives, and if those alternatives are healthy and cheap (that's also the responsibility of the city and of entrepreneurs, but it can happen) then good things might arise. That won't ever happen, but it's nice to dream.

Second of all, the biggest argument is that foie gras is made from geese that have been force-fed to fatten their livers. So fucking what? Honestly, when was the last time you heard of Kobe beef being outlawed? Isn't it 'criminal' to keep dogs in tiny NYC apartments? The slaughterhouses that make the chicken and beef products aren't exactly places kids go to on field trips. The geese are going to be killed anyway, so why not let them die fat? And speaking of fat, is it now the responsibility of city councilpeople to regulate trans fats (foie gras has lots)? I've never seen the Chicago city council, but I bet that most of 'em are fat white men who couldn't run six blocks if their lives depended on it. Buncha' hypocrites. Yes, i'd like to see more regulations on how food is prepared and information disseminated to the public, but that should come from the FDA and be nationwide and people should have the right to choose to eat healthy. Now, if it were illegal to force-feed the geese this way (which admittedly sounds disgusting), then fine... but ban the practice nationwide and make these rich people get their foie gras from skinny geese. I don't want to have to drive to Winnetka for some goose liver simply because it's illegal on Michigan Avenue. Again, i'm not a fan of foie gras (nor do I live in Chicago), i'm just making a point.

Finally, don't these people have anything better to do? What's next, a ban on sushi because the fish isn't cooked properly? A ban on iPods that have Yanni? How 'bout focusing some attention on the crime around Hyde Park, where UC students feel unsafe at night? How 'bout enforcing some limits on water pollution? Finally, how 'bout some oversight of how the time and money of the city council is spent? Grr.

Just Because You're Old Doesn't Mean You're Allowed To Be Rude To Everyone.

2006-04-10T00:02:00.000-07:00

While in line at walgreens today, an older man was buying a nail file. He thought the price was $0.67, but it was actually $1.05 with tax. When he got his change, he realized that he didn't get as much change as he was expecting. At this point, he started getting belligerent:

"How can you charge so much for a stupid nail file?"
...I don't decide the prices, sir.
"I thought it was much less than a dollar!"
The price sticker is right there, sir... each file is a dollar.
(throws the nail file at the cashier) "You bastards charge so much money. Give me my money back."
I'm sorry, you'll have to go to the customer service counter to get a refund. I can't do that right here, and there is a long line of customers.
"I don't care about them. I don't have time to go to another counter! I have to get to church."
It'll only take a minute, they'll take care of your refund right away.
"But I'm gonna be late to church!"
Well, you can bring it back another time, but I do have to help the other customers.
"God damn you, you bitch."

The cashier, a young girl who was probably in high school, was on the verge of tears. As the old guy was leaving, I said to him, "Great attitude for someone on his way to church." The cashier laughed and said, "I know! He shouldn't use that language either." And all was well in walgreens again. But seriously! This guy bitched out a cashier for absolutely no reason other than his own incompetence (the price sticker was on the nail file), he made her feel like crap even though she was being as nice and as helpful as possible, and he was on his way to church. What the fuck? Is church just something to do to pass the time? Is it a social event where if you're late they kick you in the nuts? And, um... isn't it supposed to be a positive experience where you talk about being a good person and not using the lord's name in vain? I don't frequent religious establishments very often, but being a dick to someone and then heading to prayer seems kinda hypocritical. It's obvious that the actual experience of going to church and the messages that are conveyed didn't matter to this guy. If you're a dick, be a dick. The cashier will know that you're just... well, just a dick. If you're pious, be pious. Just don't be stupid and ruin someone's day, especially over something as trivial as a fucking nail file. I understand that the extra thirty-eight cents were probably very important to him, and that's fine. But if he'd gone over to the customer service desk and gotten his money back, it would've taken less time than his complaining. Or, he could've said "I'll bring this back another time to get my refund" and been nice about it. Instead, he chose to be a jerk, and that's what pissed me off. Grrr. Sometimes I just want to pee all over everything.

In Praise of GPS

2006-04-08T19:35:00.000-07:00

Got a ride home from the airport the other night in a car with a sweet GPS system. The driver was telling me about its features - i'm thinking of getting one considering that i put 23,000 miles on my car in the year since i've had it - and he concluded his praise of the GPS system with "it's the balls."

Now, it may have been my lack of sleep, it may have been the four-hour flight delay, or it may have been that a sixty-year-old man used the phrase "it's the balls" to describe his GPS, but I found it really fucking funny. I explained to him that the phrase isn't one that I hear too often - so he continued to use it throughout the ride home. ("see that restaurant over there? it's the balls.") Big, forceful emphasis on the word balls - hence the italics. I tell ya, it was probably the most entertaining cab ride ever.

The Illadelph

2006-04-07T13:34:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that's what I've heard Philly referred to as. Anyway, I'm in the Philadelphia airport, and it sucks. It's one of the more convoluted places I've ever been in. Example - I'm flying US Air. Logic dictates that I should check in at the US Air ticket kiosks. But no, I had to check in at the America West kiosks. Granted, they're codeshare, but I'm flying out of the A gates and America West is flying out of the C gates. Frickin' annoying when the heat in the airport is mysteriously unable to shut off. Seriously, I might take off my pants - it's that hot. Plus, there's only one place to connect to the internet - the food court. After three hours' sleep last night and a 4:45 am start to my day, all I want is to curl up in a seat by the corner of a gate and shut the world out (while i play on the internet). But no, Friday afternoon dictates that all the weekend-starved assholes bring their fat little bratty kids to the food court so they can scarf cheeseburgers before flying to Myrtle Beach. The one that threw the coke at my computer is in for an ass-whoopin'.