Awesome, if you're evil

So, I'm playing Bioshock, right? And it's rather wonderful. Really an amazing experience.

And I go to the Gamefaq boards, to see what people are talking about. I haven't gotten stuck yet and needed help, so that's good, but I like to be social about my gaming when I can.

But if you go to the linky...well. I suppose you just have to see it for yourself. I've rarely seen such ignorance buttpummeled so hard.

Wit

Today I take a stab at making the wit beer that I made last year with some fellows. The one that won our competition and was brewed at the Laurelwood Brewery and served at the Horsebrass.

So we shall see!

God Bless Us

Don't not go here.

Thinking

I've been thinking I need to 1) move my web site to a new URL and 2) redesign that bastard.
I wonder if I have enough aesthetic sensibilities to actually be a decent web designer.

Ah well.

#1 is b/c Earthlink broke me with their poor service during the move. I might be stuck with them for another year, but that will be it.

And of course, #2 is b/c it just hasn't been tweaked with in years. I may have to check and see if gentlemanvillain is taken...

All that said; that's why I haven't been doing much updates of my own site.

So here's the Xbox 360 review:

It's loud. Disturbingly so. You notice it during gameplay.

FEAR, the only game I've currently played, is atmospheric, short on story (unfortunately), and has some mild control issues, but plays well overall...and there's the constant fan whirring under it all.

The controller is a bit ooky, with the large trigger buttons and then the smaller trigger buttons. I have found it easy to slip and miss-hit a button on the trigger schemes.

I'm not too worried about the Red Ring of Death in part because I keep the machine in a well ventilated place, in the basement, which is cool (although it may move up for reasons listed later) and I lay the damn machine flat, so the huge venting ports can vent. Plus the fans that could wake Jesus. But either way, there's the RRD warranty at this point, so why get my knickers in a bunch?

I know nothing of the Live situation, as of yet. I'd have to pay another $100 for a Wifi attachment, and why the fuck should I do that? The PS3 comes that way out of the box I'm told, so...

Moreover, I can just move the 360 upstairs and hardwire that fucker up via ethernet cable, and that's currently the plan.

Keep at it MS. You will get the console right someday.

In the meantime, there is Bioshock to play, and that'll do, pig. That'll do.

it's a Foo thing

Thanks to my friend Ryan I was made privy to this Foo Fighters cover of Arcade Fire's Keep the Car Running.

Check out Stereogum for the lowdown.

Best.Gadget.Ever?

The thought I'm trying to work out today.

I will forsake Truth for truth, Love for love, God for the divine, so that I can feel these things in my life, instead of the barriers that keep me from them.


I don't know where I'm going with that, but it feels right, in a way I can't quite explain.

/STILL can't get the verification to happen the firs time. What is wrong with me?

Good with the bad, maybe

So I'm forwarded this YouTube video (thanks moxie!) and it's just amazing.

I scroll down to look at some of the comments, to see if there's some additional information about it.

evaunit511
"soooooooooooo beautiful.......so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes......"
It's a great video, but damn are you gay or what?

Thank you, evaunit511. Thank you for reminding me why humanity must be destroyed.

Cool

That's a hell of a way to make books.

3x and I'm done.

You only need to fuck up once, really, to lose a customer.

The fuckup counter for Earthlink? 3.

Now I'm trying to figure out what the 'contract' is, so I can either a) get out of it, or b) remember to bail on this shit come Aug 2008.

I have my moments

Talking to someone who might have to watch the show Friends.

"Resist, man. Friends is to comedy what a punch in the balls is to your happiness. Except you're bored too.
Seinfeld is the chainsaw to the balls."

72 hours later

Moving is a lot of work. It's always good, though, when you have a bunch of friends show up and kick ass for you.

The kitchen: done. Bathroom: done. Everything else: undone. The basement, Dr Girlfriend insists, needs to be cleaned before we start storing anything down there. Ordinarily, I'd probably not care, but I'm going to be making beer down there, and we plan on setting up a TV watching arena; we should make the space as livable as possible.

By gods I'm tired, though. My thighs ache. My toes hurt. My toes. Fuck me. My forearms have clutched a whole lot of boxes these days. And it's not done. This is the real Grrrr part of things.

However, the lass and I are of same mind here; We get this shit done now, right, and then we won't ever have to do it again. (Again being as long as I can possibly manage that; 5+ years, I hope).

The stereo is up. Thankfully. The phone; works--I still don't need a cell! The internet, however, is not. I really like Earthlink 95% of the time, but for some reason this process has been a clusterfuck from them.

Within a month, though, we hope to have the place suitable for company. Anyone who wants to come; visit. We've got the space.

Crooked Little Vein

Warren Ellis' book came out yesterday. I think I'll head off to Powell's to buy it.

I'm moving in with the lass, and things are starting to get a little more tense. Not in a 'oh god won't you just die!' sort of way. More like: Hey, boyfriend, shut up and listen to me for a bit!

Which, of course, I didn't quite hear, so I'm wondering why we're talking about the same thing for 10 minutes. To me; everything is going to be fine, all we have to do is do it. So I'm trying to exude calm, but at some point I just start thinking this is all funny...which might not have been my best recourse of action. Sometimes, my charm and wit really go over better in person than over the phone.

Something to work on. Which is good; I think the sign of a good life is a few projects you just never get around to completion.

/and my inability to enter the verification letters on the first try continues

In a nutshell, what my problem will be

With the Transformers movie.

"by the director's own admission, a film designed for 9- to 15-year-olds"

Which should be read as:
We can make a total piece of shit that will insult you down to the foundations of your soul, but so long as things blow up we'll take your fucking money, thankyou.

I don't mind that the movie is made for kids.
I just see no reason why it should be shit.

Manhunt 2

Does anybody else think that the whole AO rating of Manhunt 2 is just a big PR stunt?

Because it's all I've been fuckin' reading about for the past 3 days or so, and I just can't help but feel a massive 'ho-hum' about it. It's not like the first game was all that revolutionary. Or even really good. It was Metal Gear Solid with more fucked up kill scenes and a nihilistic plot.

My guess; Rockstar won't miss the publishing date of the game, because they already have a backup available. However, until I read reviews of it that say the game is worth playing, all the hype in the world isn't going to stir me from all those other responsibilities in my life that I have to get busy ignoring.

The Catastrophe and the Cure / So Long Lonesome

There are times, as with everyone I figure, where certain songs are associated with times/people in your life.

Right now, the last two songs of Explosions In The Sky's All Of A Sudden I Miss Everyone are anchoring this time.

And by right now, I mean...since March this year.

Yellow Silk thing

Going to be moving soon, and I found this in my stuff. I kept a copy of it for years...maybe it's time to let it go, but I thought I'd share it.

Light stuck to your naked bodylike a fresh cut haystack after a rain. You looked just like a desert sunrise and you tastaed just like gumbo and you smelled just like the spray from the breakers at Patrick's Point...

And when I pulled your thighs apart the sky opened and God himself came thundering down wearing a pork pie hat with a press pass stuck ini t, taking a seat at the announcer's desk of some celestial sky box, surrounded on every side by bleachers full of rowdy drunken angels.

"Don't mind Me," He said into the microphone.
-Carson Reed

Bliss In Concrete

I'm listening to The National's Boxer and Pelican's City of Echoes pretty much daily now.

Right now, those two albums make sense to me in ways I can't quite articulate.

I miss my friend a lot. I don't think she misses me, though. I hope, and I think, she's finding her way to something like happiness, and perhaps the only way for her to do that was to cast me off. Certainly, she's better off finding something good in the now, instead of mining time for it.

Still.

Maybe it's time for me to quit mining time myself.

I can never get the fuckin' word verification right on the first shot. I don't know why...

City of Echoes

It is good to have friends.

I was disappointed that I could not get the new Pelican album on 5/22, when it was supposed to come out. But life goes on, right? What else is there to do but go to Spokane, as planned.

A. hears of my plight, and leaves me playing Guitar Hero for five minutes. I'm pretty sure I played 'Unsung' way too many times.

Comes back with a disc: Pelican, City of Echoes.

Oh, I'm buying the record anyway, (in one more week, yay!) but this went a long way to soothe the wounds of what has been a really fucking lame 60 days.

Thank you, man.

So Awesome

I love it when cool people get together to do something.

Deus Ex creator. Hard Boiled director.

I mean, sure, it could be a clusterfuck. But the potential is neat!

Dream 88

So, last night I had a dream I was in a car accident. Going too fast, I hit an old Beetle--it looked like my first girlfriend's car--but I managed to slow down enough that there was an impact, but it wasn't too violent. I was part of a chain accident, on Division St in Spokane, near Northtown...I don't even know if they call it Northtown anymore.

I saw the Chevy Blazer coming up behind me too fast. It's night and headlights are everywhere. I tap my break ferociously to get them to see that something is wrong, and they do, but not soon enough. My car goes crunch, and I see the front end ripple with damage.

But the car behind the Blazer has seen nothing. Hits the chain at speed. My car is mooshed, and I'm now airborn, moving in slow motion, like a car wreck from Burnout. It's frightening, and I'm pretty sure I'm about to end up in a flipped car.


This is the kind of dream that makes me a little wary about driving to Spokane tomorrow...

Misheard

Today I ran for the bus. It was about two blocks away, and I was about one, so I kicked it up a notch and made a sprint for it.

I get on the bus, and the driver looks at my pass, nods, says good morning, and then:
"Nice asshole."

I did my double blink, but kept moving.
Did she say what I thought she said? I've never seen this woman before in my life. Why would she compliment me on my asshole?
I mean. Really. That's the weirdest fucking thing...

I sit down at the back of the bus, and I ponder. Because I couldn't've heard what I heard. That just doesn't make sense.

So I replay the scene in my head.
"Nice ______"
What the fuck was it.
"Nice hustle."

Oh!
This makes me feel much, much better.

Super Awesome

Go. The link will tell all.

edit: thanks to brainforest for that link.

edit 2: linky no worky now. Sorry.

Today is different

No, I don't know why.

I just feel better.

I take it back. I do know why.

I started writing again last night.

Note to self: after you've walked the miles, it's time to do the work.

of course

If one is actually going to do the avoidance therapy, then it helps if one actually fucking avoids.

Goddamnit.

From Free Will Astrology

"I'm a big fan of facing your problems head-on and dealing forthrightly with your pain. But what if that approach isn't always best? Renowned psychologist Richard Lazarus said he wanted to "challenge the view that psychological health demands full realism." He believed that some sick people get healthy faster by refusing to admit how serious their problems are. To those in stressful situations, he recommended that they could reduce their anxiety by describing their predicament in a matter-of-fact way. "Avoiding what is painful, to a great extent, seems to serve a positive function," he concluded. Although I'm not sure this strategy is universally applicable, I do recommend it for you right now, Aries."


I think I'm going to give this a shot for a little while. Fuck confronting those things that hurt.

Weekend

It was a slightly odd weekend. Very few plans worked as intended. This is OK, but it is the kind of thing that can throw a body off.

Sunday was a recovery day. I'm glad April is almost over. I'm goddamn tired of this month.

After playing God of War 2 for a few hours, I let my thumbs rest and just watched TV, because I couldn't be troubled to write at that moment.

So, drearily, I watch Die Another Day. I really have to learn that I have movies I can watch...

The point being twofold here. 1) Samantha Bond is a hot Moneypenny.
2) Halle Berry cannot act. Maybe ever. But certainly, if ever I wanted to see bad acting, this would be the performance I would point to. Holy fuck does she suck as an actress.

Morning Ritual

Taken from Modern Shadows' LJ, and she, of course, got it from someone else (who I've linked to) but! the question put to the audience is: what is your perfect morning ritual?

I'm not a morning person, really, but the wakeup ritual that I enjoy goes thusly:

8-10am, realize I'm gaining consciousness. Enjoy sleeping if the heat is on-the low roar the heater makes in our house has a soothing effect on me. Either way, some kind of lucid dreaming happens.

Lay in bed, stretching. Get up.

Shower. Shave as needed.

Breakfast.

Turn on whatever loud music I feel is good; begin to destroy the universe.

Read at Salon

and you have to learn how to admit failure and walk away from it and not torment yourself. Sometimes the remorse is worse than the offense.

That's something that struck me particularly strong today. In a way, that's my life, right there. I am more than willing to beat the fuck out of myself for something I did wrong, even if there was no wrongdoing, merely failure. As the song says: 'It's a shame when the parts fit, but the machine won't work'.

Sometimes, the goddamn machine won't work. It's not my fault that it won't. But still, I go back and rethink, relive every moment of embarassment or failure, searching for the moment that I blew it, the thing I could've or should've done differently. Sometimes there is something. Sometimes, there's nothing, but I still feel responsible.

Perhaps this is the burden I place on people who I call friend. I will do anything, damn near, for someone who I've called friend. This means something to me; it is a binder, a statement of love that holds up so long as I'm not mistreated-although sometimes long after I am. But my friends know this; they know that I will stand by them, will do things like get on the next flight to wherever they are and help them, should they ask. Will offer succor regardless of my own situation.

I will do things that are potentially risky or stupid or unwise, because they ask. This is cannot be an easy thing to know. And when they see me go off to do something potentially unwise...well, that's got to be a bitch, since someone in love can rarely be told they shouldn't act. Action is what love is all about. (Although I'm thinking more and more that it's about the small actions)

Keillor is talking about politicians, but the lessons of politicians are just as applicable to life anywhere, you know? Maybe that's why I spend so much time thinking about everything I could or might do. I understand that the consequences haunt me, personally, for a long time when things go wrong. And things always, always go wrong, you know? That's life. That's what happens to us.

It's hard for me, though, to admit failure and walk away. There's always that 'if only' key that seems to keep the door locked from being happy. However, we don't live in the alternate Earths. We live in this one. In this one, the failures I have are ones I have to own up to, but maybe I don't have to carry them around all the goddamn time. There really is no reason to inflict suffering on myself, there's plenty to go around, and as Fuz as pointed out to me; love is not about who can suffer more.

Dream #2341

Or something.

Anyway, on Saturday I had a dream I was wandering through New York. I ended up going down an alleyway that turned into a library. As the library narrowed, I came across the naked ghost of Marilyn Monroe, who was passionately lecturing on the loss of civil liberties in this country. She was using a Powerpoint presentation, and it all looked very slick. She kept popping in and out, though, at one point slyly playing a game with me, where she moved objects without being seen.

Eventually, she finished and went into another part of the library. By now, I was in a strange place with lots of pools in it--but still part of the library. Then I looked up, and there were very large clear tubes running along the ceiling, very high up. Klaxons went off, and, I and some other patrons waited while they flooded the room-the room I was in. The pools lit up, and the room flooded, and everything took on a teal tint.

Then white tubes descended upon the clear ones, and the water floated up and the room was drained.

Somehow, turtles are connected to this. Especially sea turtles, and the way they move. And I've now been inspired to build a machine to help...something. My flight for home from NYC is something I'm going to miss.

(I wish I could remember what I was supposed to build that machine for. It was cool in the dream)

Medicine

I can't stop listening to Jesu's Medicine. It's oddly addictive. It's also got a haunting quality that seems all too appropriate for me these past few days.

Some things have gone wrong. Oh, it'll all be ok. The sky will clear, the ship will aright itself. But for now, I just want to cover my head and sigh. I don't want to be at work today. I'm on under three hours of sleep, and a gnawbone of stress, bad news, and general unhappy. I would've called in sick, but I'd committed to doing something at work today.

Fucking responsibilities. What is wrong with me that I can't take a day off when it's obvious that I could use one?

Something quite grave, it would seem. I'm just not quite human today. It would be a good day to be human, and there are a few legos missing from the structure right now.

Fuck. I have work to do. No more bitching.

I got to see Jesu and Isis last night. They were both great, but Jesu had some sound mix issues during their first song...which was 1/5th of the set. Plus, while they did play songs I liked, they didn't play anything I loved (Dead Eyes, Medicine). Isis, however, kicked all kinds of ass. A good show.

the medicine is all we need
to keep us away and hidden
we can only see the sunset
we can never see the sunrise

in our funny little homes
we're really quite alone
we're just a sitting target
for your superiority

sunrise
sunset

the medicine is all we need

Wow

It's my nephew's birthday today.

He's a year old; I'd forgotten today was the day b/c I didn't write it down.

Also: Spokane trip 5/24-28.

Skulking

There are days, of course, when I wish I had a place where I could write and not be known.

It's not that anything is wrong, of course, more like: Where can I go and scream out my lungs so I can reset and come back clear headed?

And then I remember: I have a journal. Yeesh. I think tonight might be a good night for going out into a dark place and writing and clearing my head a bit.

Clearing my head a bit = drinking.

God of War 2

Link will take you to the P-A comic.

Which pretty much nails it. I don't even know how far I am, (not very) and already my thumbs hurt. I have to take a break every 3rd save point, because my hands will ache if I don't. (So it's a good thing I've got FF12 to play in the meantime)

God of War 2 is, shall we understate, hyper-violent. I'm aware on a very basic level that I should not find the act of tearing off an arm to beat someone with it funny. Nor the act of slamming a door onto a head until the enemy dies . Nor the slicing off of griffin wings. Like buttah.

But I do.

Jesu review

From PopMatters.

Quote from the review: "The closing track “Stanlow” is the album’s single most accessible tune; even more than “Silver”, melody dominates over riffs, daring to rival the kind of sweeping stadium ballads that Coldplay excels at (in Chris Martin’s hands, this song would be a smash)."

Let me fix that.

"daring to rival the kind of sweeping stadium ballads that Coldplay excels at (in Chris Martin’s hands, this song would fucking suck donkeyballs pulled from my ass)"

I don't think that much of Coldplay, you might say. But the reviewer gets most of the rest of it right, even if he wants to insist 'Sliver's' best song was Star, when it was actually Dead Eyes.

The time change is kicking my ass, man. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've not been able to quite turn the bodyclock up as easily as I wind my watch. Part of it is; The Earth is not where it usually is when we do the timechange. It's still goddamn dark out when I get up, as opposed to the light showing up. For some reason, sunlight is equated with morning for me. Can't imagine why.

Goddamn Republicans. They're even trying to manipulate spacetime.

Things are pretty good otherwise. Lala's birthday party was last weekend, and holy crap did it rock. Work is work, but I'm gettin' paid, so no complaints. Going to Vegas next week to visit my Dad. So all is good.

The breakdown

Had a dream last night that I was being persued by people who wanted to stone me to death. I was telling them something they didn't want to hear.
It was made even odder by the fact that when I went from place to place (park to playground to hill, for example) I'd pass through these blue dotted lines, like the barriers in Final Fantasy 12, that show the transition from place to place there.

Either way it woke me up and I took a picture.
One bonus of doing the 24 hour film project is: I discovered I had a flickr account.

Who knew?

Currently listening to the new Jesu. It fucking rules. No really. You can hear a streaming version of Conqueror here.

A friend from high school as gotten back in touch with me. It's been cool, if a little strange. She's been through quite a lot...and me? Well. I'm still me, eh?

I guess that's it. Everybody stay tight.

The Departed and more

So I went and saw The Departed on Saturday (good timing, eh?), and let me just say it: It shouldn't've won best picture.

It was very, very good-I was ready to say it's the best damn gangster movie since Miller's Crossing. And then, without revealing too much, they cut the emotional legs out from under the audience. I think it was done to give it that Scorsese feel, but it really was unnecessary, because of the way things were going anyway. I was left dissatisfied, because the movie fucked with what I wanted from it as a story.

Don't get me wrong: Scorsese is one of the best, and most important directors in cinema. What he's forgotten about movies is more than any 4 people know about them. But The Aviator was a much better movie, and Goodfellas is a classic.

My desire, however, to see Infernal Affairs remains unabated.

I've also started watching The Wire and while some people have said it's the best show on TV (yeesh-the hype, the HYPE) I'm not seeing it yet. I've only watched 3 episodes, though, and it is pretty good.

Sat night dream

The dream was a recast of The Breakfast Club--you can imagine which character I was playing--and what I remember is Ally Sheedy's character smiling at me, but that I wasn't going to get to interview her. She wants to be interviewed, but we're both too shy around all the other people.

Anyway, the whole thing was taking place in a white single-floor house, and I kept going into the back, though the kitchen, into a living room and then a bathroom in the back. Wash my hands, look at the backyard, it just seemed important to keep moving through there. There was this co-worker of mine standing in the living room, and I kept squeezing her butt as I walked by, and she kept laughing at me, so I figured I'm good.

I return to everyone passing around a glass of wine in a church chalice. I drink from it, but the wine spills from my mouth, leaving me parched (I have a cold, and was sleeping with my mouth open). We put a kerchief on the spilt wine and as the red is soaked up, the word 'recline' comes up in black lettering.

And so I go outside, and lay down in the grass outside. Fireworks start to go off in the sky, and I'm thinking: everyone else is missing this but me. Why is that? As the dawn breaks, the fireworks are still going off, but I can tell it's time for me to go back inside.

Floating

There are days when I hate being so far away from people I love.

Today is one of those days.

Everybody take care.

Talk to me

I went to lunch with a co-worker today, and we did our comiseration thing, talking about life the universe and everything.

Next to us at the bar, sat a woman; red, tighly curled hair that fell down just past her shoulders. She's constantly aware of her cell phone, and there's some twinkling in her eyes that isn't from joy. She's chain smoking menthol Camels.

And I ask her if she's alright. She isn't, but thanks for asking.

So the 3 of us have this conversation about relationships. The two women I'm with: in bad relationships. Me: in a pretty good one.

I fully intend on doing what I can to keep it good.

But, here are these two women, who seem to be interesting people, interested in the universe, and they have surrounded themselves with men who, for whatever reason, aren't that good.

And all I can think of now is: please, please, please, don't let me turn into 'that guy' for very long. Please, please, m'lady, talk to me, tell me what's going on, tell me what is on your mind.

If someone has given up talking. The relationship is fucked. If someone has given up sex. The relationship is fucked.

I don't want to be that person, who has just let everything wither, because he is unable to rise up and say something. I worry about this because I look at my life and I worry about that...

I know I won't be happy all the time, but I no quitting. Please. No quitting.

Title goes here

Today, I'm going to try to go the whole day without swearing.

Just to see if I can. I conceed that I might not be able to do this.

Holy shit

I mean.
I mean.
Fuck. I just. Nevermind. The linky says all.

2007

This week's lookback:

Shotgun Messiah-Violent New Breed
Eureka Farm-The View
American Girls-Fairweather Words for Four Letter Friends
Mindset-A Bullet for Cinderella
Replacements-Tim
Richmond Fontaine-Safety
Mudhoney-Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge

So let's hear it for having a cold!
Meh.

You'll have to believe me when I tell you: I'm not looking for things to bitch about. Really. Things aren't bad, to tell the truth. I'm not terribly sick, and so long as I don't rockstar out anytime in the next few days, I should be OK.

Oh, mighty A.Ho, find your password and join me again! I'm just a rather insane person out here without you.

The past again

Cave In-Jupiter
Seaweed-Four
Melvins-Stoner Witch
The Sultans-Ghost Ship
Annie Lennox-Medusa
Van Halen-For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge

Yes, I'm aware that I bought Cave In's record this year. I'm trying to get a handle on if I like them or not. They're the kind of band that makes music that I'd make if I could. Lots of strange songs. Heavy most of the time, but trippy others. Great sense of lyrical playing around-maybe not great lyrics, but at least clever. And while I like the most recent album, Jupiter is supposed to be their best.

I think, though, they're a band I need to see live.

Everything else is pretty much out there. I'm starting to be pretty sure that FUCK is a not good Van Halen album. But I was 16 when it came out, and it's hard not to love Poundcake in the summertime. I'll probably keep it.


I was reminded today that women look at a guy's shoes. That they use this as a basis for what kind of man that person is.
Sigh.

I get that clothes make the person, frequently. As someone who utterly sucks at clothing selection, I just try to devolve my choices to the simplest things I can: jeans. T shirts. Black shoes, almost always tennis shoes (or 'trainers') because every other kind of shoe I've ever worn in my life hurts my feet, and I walk frequently and hard in my shoes. But also black shoes because they go with everything, short of a white outfit. Or so I thought.
Anything work related: slacks, hopefully darkly colored. Shirt with collar. Sweaters if I need them.

But it doesn't matter. None of this is simple, I'm told. My jeans should be different, so they show off my body. I shouldn't wear white socks with black shoes. A whole host of rules and things that I've got no knowledge of, and honestly, I wonder why I have to give a fuck. Who's making up these goddamn rules?

Nobody wants to be judged on how they look, right? Isn't this the mantra I keep hearing from women?

But we are judged on how we look. To an extent, I understand this; when we're talking about what's attractive to us, there is a visual element that cannot be denied. But there's always the slip, that moment where we cross from: that looks good to that's about them.

I hate it. I hate it that someone will look at my shoes or my shirt and decide things about me. Will see that I'm wearing white socks with my black shoes and think I look like an idiot. I don't think I look like an idiot, I'm just trying to avoid being mocked, but then again, I have to admit that my fashion knowledge is pretty much zero.

Sigh.

The other part of this is: I hate spending money on this shit. It seems so non-essential. Does this article of clothing fit? Is it comfortable? That's pretty much it for me, as far as it goes.
Well, ok: is it dark? Green, blue, purple (ha), black. Let's just stick with those colors, so I don't fuck anything up. White dress shirts are fine; those can't really be fucked up either. I don't like brown or beige or basically anything light-colored. White. That's it. I have a peach colored shirt that I pretty much wear at my peril, since I don't think I ever match the appropriate pants with it. I've got a yellow T that one of my sisters bought for me, but even she said that she knew I would only wear it for the slogan on the front.

Yes, yes; I could look for sales!
But that's just something else that I have to do that I don't want to do. Ebay for clothes. Great. I'm trying to drink here. Sometimes I even try to write.

And it's never just one thing. No. You can't just have pants that fit, because pants don't fit; you need a belt to make sure they stay on. You can't just have shoes that work, you need socks that go with your outfit. And on and on and on. More shit to keep track of. Does this belt go with the outfit? Is the shirt right? There is no; one thing fits all, or hell, I'd even accept 'most'.

They're clothes. They don't get me drunk, or laid; they exist to cover me from the cold, protect my feet from injury, and advertise band logos.

I don't need 3 pairs of shoes. I need shoes that don't hurt me when I walk 2.5 miles in 20 minutes. I need only 2 pairs of jeans; one to wear, and one to wear while the other is getting washed.

And since I'm not going to get it right, I'm going to have clothes pressed upon me: I'm entirely at the mercy of other people. I guess if I could learn it once, and then never have to think about it again, that would be ok, but mostly I just feel stupid, especially when I'm shown things I don't like (as with one ex-girlfriend) but there's an insistance that I look good in them, so I should wear them and like it. I don't like those clothes; why are you making me wear them?

It didn't matter. She knew more than I did, so I should suck it up. (Yes, I realize this has more to do with the kind of relationship I was in than it does about the clothes)

It's just: fuck man. The clothes are clean. They're all of some kind of evil dark shade. What more do you want?

And everyone tells me I should care about this. I suppose I do, but I'm just too utilitarian, and too cheap.

No. I take it back: I don't care about this, and I resent having to care about this. That's really the problem. Everyone else insists that this is important, and I don't see how having jeans that show off my ass will make me any happier. My opinion of what I look like won't change; I don't think I'm that attractive, nor that ugly. I just exist-a bit on the bland side, but nobody ever mistook me for cute, you know? Even if they did, I wouldn't want to be cute; cute is the worst thing to be. Cute is, in my experience, the female catch-all for anything they like; puppies, baby alligators, orchids, shoes, mini-cars, etc etc. It's the McDonalds word of good looks.

I'm happy just not looking like a dumbass. I think-maybe-I've accomplished this. That I have to pay attention to actually looking good, when I'm looking at far more difficult personal issues, confounds me. (Of course, one could argue that if I solve those personal issues, then I'll have to pay attention to fashion. Better to just stick with why unpleasant psychological issues. Less confusing.)


I guess the flip side of this is: I should give it a shot. Instead of resisting and insisting that everone else should accomodate me, I should just accept the advice of the well meaning, and do my best to try and get the things that someone else says looks good, that I can be OK wearing, and then buy that and hope I never have to deal with it again. I don't need any clothes for awhile, but the day will come, so I should prepare for it now. If I can learn a baseline of how it's done, these things become much less daunting, and I can ignore all the rest. Hopefully. If I start mentally prepping for it now, my complaining will be much less when the day comes, and I can take the advice in good spirit, learn from it, and move on.

Personality test

Just kinda fun.

Personal stats:
Stability |||||||||||||||||| 73%
Orderliness |||||||||| 33%
Extraversion |||||||||||||| 56%

Stability results were high which suggests you are very relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic..

Orderliness results were moderately low which suggests you are, at times, overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.

Extraversion results were moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity.

Snapshot:
messy, tough, disorganized, fearless, not rule conscious, likes the unknown, rarely worries, rash, attracted to the counter culture, rarely irritated, positive, resilient, abstract, not a perfectionist, risk taker, strange, weird, self reliant, leisurely, dangerous, anti-authority, trusting, optimistic, positive, thrill seeker, likes bizarre things, sarcastic

All I ask of myself

This week's blast from the past.

Neurosis-Through Silver in Blood
Sponge-Rotting Pinata
Revolver-Cold Water Flat
Smashing Pumpkins-Siamese Dream
Moby-Everything is Wrong
Grotus-Brown
Spineshank-Height of Callousness.

I've not listened to Neurosis in...years. But now I listen to Isis, Pelican, Jesu, Boris-the followers, if you will. So I'm giving Silver in Blood a real serious listen, to see if I missed something. I expect that, if it's anything like seeing Neurosis live, I'll pretty much want to kill the planet after it's over.

I mean that in a good way, of course.

Wallflower

I'm continuing with my retroactive investigation to albums of yore.

This week, I've been listening to:

Peter Gabriel-Security
Mystery Machine-Headfirst Into Everything
Goo Goo Dolls-Hold Me Up
Jesus Jones-Liquidizer
Mind Funk, s/t
Judas Priest-Painkiller
The Buck Pets-Mercurotones

I chose the Buck Pets, again, because I wanted to see if I should keep this album or sell it. I think there are only 2 songs that really catch me, and I think I'll be burning that album and selling it back. Yay, .5 returns on cds!

Peter Gabriel, of course, holds up just fine. The other albums are good; enjoyable listens, even if I won't carry each of them with me to the desert island.

Rocket!

I've been a bit stuck in my writing lately. I just don't know what to write next-what scene should come now.

In a fit of I don't know what, I raided my music collection and pulled out a bunch of CDs I've not listenend to in years. Like 5+ was the standard. 10 if I could manage it.

They are:
Fields of the Nephilim-Earth Inferno
Phil Collins-No Jacket Required
Blue Oyster Cult-Imaginos
Def Leppard-Hysteria
The Buck Pets-To The Quick
Alice In Chains-Facelift
Mark Eitzel-Caught In A Trap...
Faith No More-Angel Dust
Foo Fighters-s/t

You know what? So far, they're pretty cool, still. I've only listened to the first 3 all the way through. Listening to Def Leppard now, and fuck if it isn't catchy. I mean, I don't need to buy another album like that, but it's not bad having one.

Mild complaining

It's a pretty broad topic, in a way, but I really just want people to do what they say they'll do. When they don't do what they say they'll do, then I'm happy to accept a reason why (car broke down, emergency came up, sex, super awesome once in a lifetime chance to do x, whatever), but to hear nothing is demoralizing.

I know everyone has their own sense of honor and value, and I don't need it to match up with mine, but if you say you'll do something, and then don't, and all I get is silence, what am I supposed to think? My inclination is to think that you don't give a damn about me, and even when you're behaving in accordance with your nature, it's still hard to forgive and let go of this.

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.

Brewing

So today, I brew beer. Lots of cleaning, and boiling, and stirring. It's an ale, that I'm fucking around with by adding black british malt, as you'd find in porters or stouts (I'm not adding much black malt, though), and using Rogue's Pacman yeast. I like Rogue's beers. A lot. Plus, I get to watch football.

I'm not saying it's the bestest day ever or anything like that, just, hey! This is what's happening.

I've built a new Magic deck, and so far it's looking pretty awesome-it's the first deck I've build in over a year, so it's nice that things are going well. And I'm still fucking in big ways with every deck I own; I mean, the revision of 103 decks takes some time.

Speaking of hot tubs

Link goes to imbedded video.
I'd say it's NSFW.
But funny.

So she says to me-

she says: What would it take to get you into a hot tub?

And I say: "The existance of a hot tub."

Ah...memories. Memories warning me to be more careful in my future hot tub adventures than I was back in the 'Kan.

What you don't remember? You weren't there?
Not going to help you out. Sorry.
Mistakes, as they say, were made. Not all bad, but still.
And at least one person who shouldn't've seen my penis did.
At least.

Vote!

I mean, really, damit. I'm not asking anybody to agree with me on the issues, but I am saying: Vote.

It's really not hard, and it's one of the best ways to get your voice heard.

Take some responsibility for the country.

Yay Joe and Monkey!

I know I've been slacking. I'm not the only one!
/teasing my comrade

But I've been showing a friend around Portland. And I've had houseguests. (Hi Dad!)

And other shit. Man, get off my back!

My beer goes on sale this weekend! I'm pumped.

I've decided

Boris' Pink needs some guy hitting a cowbell throughout the entire album. It's the only way an album like that could be improved, it's so awesome.

Poultromachy

A war devised and guided by Chickenhawks.
So. Awesome. Check it out in the link.

New Game!

Inspired by a link Fuz sent me from Center of Gravitas
It's called: What is Said. What is Meant.

What the Brit said (jokingly):
"5:45 in the morning-that really is too early to have a friend pick you up...I'll need a taxi."

What he meant:
"I'm too fucking stupid to set the alarm, so when the taxi is here and the phone rings at 5:45 to wake the house up, you'll know it's for me."

Anyone else want to play?

Tasty

Had a couple lagers with lunch today.
Now I'm back at work.
Really, I think the only way anyone can tell is that I'm a little more bouncy in my chair, while listening to heavy metal.
It's good to get away with things, sometimes.

NOOOOOO!!

NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo

It's just a good reason to drink whisky, you ask me.

Might have to start writing letters

At least when someone opens mail to read that they shouldn't, you know.

Fucking fucks.

That's no moon...

I had a dream last night that there were two moons. Both of them were full and beautiful, and I kept staring at them from my porch. The sun was going down, and but both the moons were easily visible. I was pretty sure this was the coolest thing I was ever going to get to see in my life.

When I woke up, I remembered there actually are two moons. Pretty cool.

Edit!-fixed link.

Damn, I'm good.

moxlotus wrote:
"If you "fail" at abstinence, it was clearly fault of your own. If used correctly, abstinence has a 100% success rate."


Me: "Then let me be the first to wish you continued success at that."

Wasted years

Spent just a little too much time fucking around tonight, especially given the misconception I was under.

Best not to do that again.

Sore

Danced last night. One of the songs was Michael Jackson's Thriller.

Sigh. It's still a fun song to dance to, you know?

I'm not often given to drinking at lunch on a work day

But today,the computer has been behaving like a true piece of Belzebub's brain.

So fuck it. Beer is legal to purchase, and can be enjoyed in an hour.

last update

At least until something changes.

Talked to Dad tonight, and he's doing fine. Bored to death, but still able to discuss why fundamantalists are still fucked up and spiritual people are called to behave with compassion, but not take it up the ass just because we're supposed to walk towards enlightenement.

Fun

Game I used to distract me from work for a brief moment.

Jesu

I'm...8 minutes into Jesu record.
It's awesome. The lack of guitar workings means I probably won't love this like I do Pelican.

But it's still fucking awesome.

Pirate for Congress

Stuff like this reminds me why I love America.

Happy birthday, Fuz!

Sorry this is a few days late.

Thanks

To everyone who sent good wishes.

Dad's in the hospital; he had something like an 80% blockage in one of his arteries.

But he's OK. He's on his back for the next 12 hours. He's on blood thiners, and apparently he can't drive for the next 3 days b/c if the act of breaking the car might cause the bloodclot that forms in his chest to come out.

I mean. Fuck.

But. He's ok. That's what goddamn matters.

sigh

Not to rain on everyone or anyone's good time.

My Dad is scheduled to have an angiogram tomorrow. Could be nothing. But he went into the hospital with chest pains tonight. I come back from the bar to find family happenings in a big way going on-shit he, of course, downplays hugely. But he's by himself down there, and that's a concern too. So.

Any good thoughts you got, are certainly welcome. You don't have to post anything here. As a matter of fact, he's the kind of person who'd just as soon you not-prayer being a quiet thing for him. But I'm worried, of course, and might have to travel down to Vegas soon for a little while, just cause.

Bradbury

Hey, it was Ray Bradbury's birthday yesterday! How cool is that?

I just like Bradbury's work.

A long one

This comes from my paper journal, edited for privacy reasons, but the essential thoughts are ones I'd like to share

....Yeah, I want a girlfriend, I want a partner. I want to be chosen. Not under duress, not because there's no one else. But because we honestly like one another. ButI have no idea how to get that to happen, beyond a friendship.

There is so much to learn I know, about how to to...sustain? Enjoy? Fuck. I don't even know that I have the language, in a romantic sense. I know how to make friendships work, so romances frighten me. Not because the risks seem greater. If one of my friends and I got into a fight, or for some reason couldn't be my friend anymore, that would break my heart as hard as anything. But because I don't know how to do the romance thing, I'm afraid of doing it badly.

Here's where I recall what my therapist said to me once: Love is about asking the other for the thing they are most afraid to give. We don't mean that, it's just part of what we're attracted to, somehow. But it's also got to be scary to ask for. Conversely, this means that love is also about giving that thing you are frightened of. How the fuck do you do that?

In friendships, there's a kind of vetting process-as well as an undersatnding of where the line is-so you dont' establish an intimacy you can't trust. But because a romantic relationship almost always means sex, and usually the sex happens pretty quickly, because we like sex, we usually have a sudden intimacy, because nothing pushes your buttons like sex does, nor as quickly. At the same tiem, there are still all of these emotional paths and barriers, some of which are normal and protective, others weight that we carry because we don't know how to put down, that now have to be dealt with. And we have to ask for maps to figure out all of those spaces-yet we already feel like we should have them, or the other person should, because we do have a connection to them.

Asking for directions isn't easy. The odds of being told no are fair, considering. When you have a friendship, those paths are followed at a mroe deliberate pace, and tehre are fewer shortcuts, so there's less fear. It's more controlled. Of course, at some point we still have to hang our ass out there, or the friendship either plateaus or withers. With romance, there's now a tension, the fight between the wonders of sex and the need to not reveal everything, because having everything revealed is scary. And usually unnecessary. We need private lives too.

So I hold the friendships up, because I know how to do them, but also because the romance takes time, I think. And if you aren't willing to give someone time to flourish on it's own, then can you ever really expect to get romance?

And we should get it. We deserved to be loved in friendly and sexual ways.

Addendum:
I think that there's something to be said for being open to the love that comes to you, and feeling like you can ask for it to manifest itself in ways that are positive. How we negotiate, I think, plays a large part in the kind of love we get-or if we get love at all.

And I know I have a ways to go, in understanding how and where it's OK for me to be romantic. That I won't be laughed at or mocked for doing something sweet for someone who loves me by the person who cares. Or that it doesn't matter: I can be brave and do this and anyone unwilling to see how good I'm trying to be probably isn't for me.

Concerts

There seem to be a bunch of cool shows coming up. Some I've already discussed here, but Wolf Parade is the 22nd of August. Muse is on Oct 3rd (and I'm told tix are very nearly gone). I'm told Secret Machines and Suftjan Stevens will be playing soon-October, I think.

Just a whole lot of good shows to go see and enjoy. Looking forward to carving up my time appropriately.

Warpup

Read this, and thought: yup. This is one of the great challenges facing me.

At the same time, it also makes me wish I was smarter. I think that the Stewardess has pretty much been saying this for awhile now. In her own perfect way.

Sunscreen

If they're right that PDX is going to be in the 90's this weekend, I'm going to need more of it, due to my haircut.

Do I look good?
Maybe if you dig on Travis Bickle

So cool!

Now gimme my landspeeder, bitches!

you go away for a little while, and it only takes 5 seconds to piss you off

Found this in a Salon round table discussion
(Louanne Brizendine says) "Women have an eight-lane superhighway for processing emotion, while men have a small country road," she writes. Men, however, "have O'Hare Airport as a hub for processing thoughts about sex, where women have the airfield nearby that lands small and private planes."

Gee. Thanks for basically justifing every stereotypical comment made about gender for...like, EVER.

I know she's a doctor, and the quote I saw may've been taken out of context, AND that there are differences between the ways men and women process sex and emotions. But.

How, exactly, do comments like this help us appreciate those differences, or even overcome them to the extent that we can actually get along?

Meh. Maybe I just need to get laid. I'm grouchy.
/oh, wait...

//if you want some fun, read the link. It shows a whole bunch of people not taking her statement very seriously, and is greatly cheering.

OK Go on treadmills

Link takes you to YouTube video.

Pretty damn cheering to watch; even in your darker hours.

Yeah!

It is quite likely that Fuz arrives today, starting at least one year of his teaching position.

I insist that today be good.

Guess what?!!

You know how it's exciting, when you come home and your ceiling is leaking? Which leads to a near keystone kops level of semantics called "where is the house leaking water now?"

Yeah.

Hey, it's a party!

Wait. You want to do what?

~backs very quietly away, starts car, drives away at high speed.~

If it's all the same to you, I prefer my parties to involve my penis in an entirely different manner.

Cleanup

I've been cleaning my room. Throwing away papers, and itemizing trinkets, photos, drawings from my niece.

I've stumbled upon a folder, the collection of pages and photos from an old, difficult relationship. I don't linger on it. I shove it away, since really, it's over, over, over. Those photos we smiled in are nice, but they are from a time when I was unaware of the lessons I had to learn.

I think I smile differently now. Not in a bad way. Just...I'm different now. Better, mostly, but just not the same.

The room is almost tidy again. That feels good. Even if other things in the universe are confusing, I can make the room a more welcoming place. Time to rest, and then finish my cleaning tomorrow.

perplexed

This last week has been excessively hot. Not just here, but in many parts of the country.

I don't own a car. I walk nearly everywhere I go. When I related to female coworkers (the majority gender at work) that I'd run a shirt through a rinse and spin cycle in order to wear it on a walk to the grocery store in upwards of 100° weather the reaction was that I had done a 'very guy thing'.

I honestly thought I was being sensible. I didn't realize I was such a dude.

We all know I'm weird

And this just kinda proves it.
I don't mind helping people move. Really. I mean, this is assuming they've done the fucking work they're supposed to do: boxing their shit up, getting an appropriate moving vehicle, etc, etc.

There is almost always beer afterward. I mean...beeeeer. Fuck man, for pizza and beer, I'd consider helping George Bush move. Especially if it's out of the White House.

Maybe I just like any excuse that brings people together to drink. This is most likely.

Sat morning dream

I don't remember much of the dream, except that I was reading a list of activities, like you'd see for camp or something.
The list appeared to be online, posted in a Livejournal style (dark blue/light blue boarders), and I only remember one thing on the list-the only thing I was expected to do.
2:00-02 p.m.: Instruct people in the Secret McDonald's Chicken McNugget Dance.

I woke up after that. It's probably for the best.

4am

Ah, the glories of alcohol.

Sleep. Soon. And all is improving in ways I cannot measure.

Seattle Bound

Outta here, G, for a few days. Portland...weighs on me. Actually, is more like I'm weighing on me, and it will be good to just see people who hold me up.

Take care of your bad selves.

I am so damned sexy

I made cuttoffs today.

Eat it. I'm hot.

Warren Ellis kicks ass

Taken from the 7/13 post.
"As ever, I am not at the San Diego Comics Convention next week. So quit asking.

Why am I not at San Diego? If you think I’m spending my own money on a business-class flight from London to San Diego for a fucking comics convention, you’re insane.

Also, Klingons. I never want to have to piss while standing next to Klingons again."

I so get that. I wish I didn't, but I do.

N/A

I was going to put something up here earlier. Now I can't remember what the hell it was. But instead of doing nothing, which is what I've been doing on this site for quite some time now, I figured I'd at least publicize my intent.


I do it for the fans.



A.Ho

Why I'm about to lose money at work

We're having to fill out job descriptions, so our pay can be adjusted to industry standard, right?

So I have to ask an HR evaluation person, as I'm filling this out:
"Hello, XXXX.
I am D M, and I'm working on filling out my job description for you,
and I have a question:
Should I be describing what I have, as far as skills, or what someone
else would need if they had to do my job?"

And the helpful HR person says:
"Thank you, D. You should be focusing on what someone would need if
they had to do your job.

Let me know if you have any other questions."

I'm so screwed. A dog and a monkey could do my job. At the very least someone with a brain and a GED.

Sigh.

3-1

Went 3-1 at the geek riots. There's nothing quite like winning to give you an answer to the dark days.

Even if you're not on, your mojo carries you, you know?

Fell on black days

It's one of those nights, where the black voices speak, and I have no answers for them.

Subtle hangover

Ugh. I'm very tired. Stayed up too late at the urging of someone who didn't exactly have my best interests at heart.
"C'mon! What do you have to do tomorrow that prevents you from having a PBR?"

Fuck, I can't count the number of things that prevent me from having a PBR. In addition, I was having a shit night anyway-my mojo had left me, and I was losing every game of cards I played. In addition, the guy who I was planning on going to Chicago with in Sept turned to me and said: So how about Chicago in November?
Because he wants to use Chicago to springboard to Dublin and see Bruce Springsteen.

Dude, Chicago in November is going to be fucking cold. Plus, everyone will be travelling around that time due to Thanksgiving.

So now everything is contingent on whether or not he gets a ticket to see Springsteen.
Is it wrong of me to hope that he misses one of the great concert experiences so I can get my greedy way?

So now I'm at work, trying not to work, and really in dire need of a nap. The mojo might be back, though, so there's that.

Fun things I've said lately

denying yourself things you want all the time leads to being a Republican

You can't expect to get to the good stuff without having to eat a little of the nasty sometimes

I mean, it's HOT to fuck in the stairwell/doorway/front seat
But it's repeat business to do it in bed.

And:
He's a fuck. (said about someone who truly is a fuck)

Rick Ruben + Metallica

So, Ruben is producing Metallica's next record.

This is pretty interesting and cool news to me. I haven't cared about a Metallica release since ...And Justice For All, and with good reason. And I put an equal amount of blame for Metallica's bland sound on Bob Rock, the producer of the records I could give a crap about. (That Metallica also just quit doing interesting things shares blame)

Now. I don't think I would've thought of Ruben. Terry Date, who worked with Soundgarden and Pantera, yes. Dave Jerden, who did Anthrax's sublime Sound of White Noise-that would be cool. Ross Robinson, who did At The Drive In's Relationship of Command, Blood Brother's Burn Piano Island Burn, and Slipknot's stuff. That might be interesting, although word is Robinson is trying to move away from strict metal.

Lord knows, Metallica defines metal in many, many ways. But Ruben has done so much interesting work, I'll confess; I'll be approaching the next Metallica album with a much more open mind than in the past. I hope I'm rewarded.

Scraps and so forth

Wiki's page on drinking games, for the next time you can't figure out how to put a beer cup to your lips and swallow:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Drinking_games


Only 2 stanzas of a poem I was working on that I liked:

You spread your heart thin
Like you're turning your
Physique into an emotional
Lifestyle


Who will come to aid
When something you hide
Gets loose, and runs free-
Pamploma

Double-talkin' jive

Ze Bloggin has been down for a couple days. Or at least, I couldn't post to it-some kind of Blogger thing.

The bummer of course is that the thing I was all into posting a couple days ago? Well, it's too late now.

Now I need a soda for my tummy (too many different kinds of beer last night-but not too much beer), and certainly a nap would be more than welcome.
Oh yes. A nap.

I've heard GnR's Double-Talkin' Jive in my head upon awakening for the past 3 days in a row. I think I have to dig out the song.

Suddenly, after a year of not really doing much but watching, I volunteered for 3 things at the OBC. You'd think I had no life.