I’m back on the rotation where I have to out to the kindergarden in a
rural town twice a week. One of the cutest little girls in my first
class where I run flash cards and try to get a few English words to
stick had one. So I asked for it and started in on the ball, and
broke the thing. There is only like a rubber band string holding it
all together inside, and this was a cheap knockoff anyway. As it came
apart in my hands, I headed for the regular teachers, unsure if it was
a classroom object or her personal toy. They assured me not to worry
about it, truly an accident, and I started back in on the flash cards.
I looked up and saw her silently starting to cry. I didn’t know I
could feel that bad that quickly. She was trying to put on a brave
face, but after all, the Foreign Teacher had specifically asked for,
broken, then tried to slink away with her toy. I could just see
inside her little brain “That fuckin’ “lowi” (ghost – as they call
us) broke my snake, man! This is evidence of an unjust universe!” I
kept trying to tell the teacher to tell her I’d bring another one, a
better one, when I come back next Tuesday. And explain it all to her
parents. Four days is an eternity to a four year old! I asked the
driver to take me to a toystore in town right away, but she was late
anyway, and everyone kept telling me not to worry about it. But I
think I just singled-handedly started a future chapter of Al Qaeda,
the first in Eastern China…

It’s not as bad as all of that. I haven’t bought an electric bicycle,
as the regular one I was given works fine. Liaocheng is gloriously
flat, a town made for biking and I need the exercise. I’ve also
re-discovered simple youthful cheap thrills like the flying of kites.
And there are no recreation drugs to buy here. Nor records, or books
in English, or movies in English to see in the theaters or things I
would regularly buy back in the States. Beer and liquor are absurdly
cheap, and I’m drinking less anyway. I guess what’s bugging me is the
sorority girlish glee I get when I go off on a weekly buying trip.
Who needs all of this stuff? And I’m just going to have to ship it
home.

I went to Beijing in early March and it was only worse. There is so
much more available there. But ties? Seriously? Why buy more ties -
even if one was a gift. The sales girl was cute and I’m a sucker. A
rich sucker, it’s disgusting. And the street of toy stores – I was
beside myself. But I will vouch for the city – Beijing has only gotten
cooler since I was there in ‘06. The 798 arts district is a must see.
And the hutong area east of Houhi as exploded. There is some
“tourist cheesey” factor with Tibetan yogurt shops and fish and chips
places, but some cool bars too and indie crafty type stores that could
only survive in China with the tourist dollar.

How much is it gonna suck to have to go back to being an American poor
person? Hopefully I will have gotten some of this consumption out of
my system by then.

Mark P. Casey, April 20, 1942 – Feb 23, 2010 My Dad died
yesterday at Crawford Long hospital in Atlanta. It was rather sudden,
at least the actual cause of illness, but in general not really, as he
didn’t take very good care of himself and had minor mental health
issues for most of my life. He had advanced pulminary fibrosis, which
was only recently found, with complication of pneumonia. Even if he
had last six more months for a lung transplant, that would have only
bought him a few years.

The situation is especially strange as I am overseas and wont come
back for a funeral. Our plan at the moment is to have him cremated
and take him to the (family) plot in Minnesota in mid-October, hopefully
beating the first freeze. I am glad I spent a lot of time with him
before I left on this trip. The last time I actually spoke/talked
with him was via Skype in December. There were no indications then
that this would be coming so soon. I really feel for my sister who is
having to deal with the details first hand and wish her strength and
support. She got to say good by, but also had to see the horror at
the end. I called this morning and spoke into his ear over the phone
but he was already unconscious an in intensive care.

For whatever faults he may have had, he always encouraged my curiosity
and interest in history…or one of his favorite cliches, taken from
what I assume is a long defunct teen literary magazine called Cricket
- a sense of history, mystery and adventure. I wished he’d gotten to
travel more, specifically, I wish I could have gone on a trip with him
to parts of the UK before he passed. He really would have dug that.

I’ve had a chance to do a bit more traveling. Just here in
Shandong province, but I’ll take it. There are big changes coming for
our school – new name, new books, new problems etc and there was a
banquet in the capital, a meeting of the three schools our owner owns.
They put us up in an adequate hotel, which strangely had nude woman
tiles in each of the shower rooms. We had a few hours until the
dinner, so we went out into the city to explore a bit and get things
we can’t in Liaocheng. Sadly, I must admit I’ve appreciated Walmat
and McDonald, as we don’t have them here. I hate both companies in
theory, but the Chinese seldom use deoderant and I’m running low. I
found one place with Nivea, very expensive roll, on in Liaocheng, but
I wanted more variety and sure enough they did, though not much. As
we headed out, not exactly sure how to tell a cab where to take us, I
was really pleased to recognize one high rise among the many, and was
able to direct us to the store on foot in about 10 minutes. We came
to Jinan once before to see Avatar in English (though not 3D) and
Walmat is in the same multi-story building, as well as a decent toy
sore (as in collectable toys, Qees, robots and other figures). Also,
Chinese Walmat has decent log sleeve shirts with chinesey looking
stuff on them, obviously cheap.
So we made it back to the hotel in time to see part of an utterly
depressing documentary about the Chengdu earthquake (English TV is
also a treat as we don’t pay for channels. I see historical dramas in
the massage parlor, occasional news shows or sports in restaurants).
We were given nifty Qing dynasty jackets to wear, though a bit more
red than I’d like, and we were off to the drinkfest/banquet. As the
evening wore on we met some of other foreign teachers, got the schpeal
on good tattoo shops and other Jinan goodies (*ahem*…did have a
taste later in the evening, but it was bullocks and hardly worth the
general risk). We went out drinking with them at this pub (another
treat. There is a bar or two here in Liaocheng, but they are very
expensive and don’t really have what you want. Also very difficult to
talk to the hot chicks, who are mostly college students and can’t
afford to drink in expensive bars. Not to mention the garbage pop
music. I’ve got dibbs on the assasination of Kenny G btw…) and then
a dance club. Not my scene of course, but it was this one Jinan
western teacher’s last night in town, so we tagged along. Actually
the room itself was pretty cool, steam punk decor they refused to let
me take proper pictures of, and all the female employees in these
matching 60’s airline stewardess outfits. Inside all sorts of lights
and coyote ugly nonsense, plus our hosts bought copious amounts of
watered down drinks. If I’m gonna be in a silly ass disco, it might
as well be a Chinese silly ass disco. The four Liaocheng foreign
teachers, Dean, Darren, Kissi and myself eventually wandered on to a
cab and were almost home when we made the driver drop us at the 24
hour McD’s. We were all blasted and it is munchie food, though they
use cucumbers instead of pickles and some spicy dust. There Kissi got
into a fight with some guy and we wandered on, easily could have
walked the rest of the way, but Dean got us into another cab that took
us way in the wrong direction, wasting much time and money.

We awoke the next morning to the kind of
gasoline-destroying-the-peeled-skull style hangover only baiju can
produce and caught the bus back to Liaocheng. I napped, drank much
water and went for a massage. I’d call it about a 6 hour recovery,
which is impressive if you could understand the previous level of
pain. Note to self: do not mix countless beers, whiskey, vodka and
baiju. Unless ready to PAY.

The winter course has begun which means lots of work for a few weeks,
six days per. But it actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it might
have been. We’ll see about the summer when we must do two months of
this regiment. To be fair I must say, other wise the load has been
rather light. I’m not on the shift that has to go to the rural school
for a few months, and my adult class all got so busy in their personal
lives it’s on hiatus for a while. So January I only worked three days
a week, can’t bitch. But now with the new books and routine, plus
having to judge a few rounds of the national English competition – I’m
nervous.
But now it was holiday time, and Dean and I headed for the coast at
Tsingtao (“Ching Dow”). It’s stressful because even though everyone
knows the date of the lunar new year (Year of the Tiger of course) the
govt. doesn’t announce the actual dates of the long holiday until a
week before. EVERYONE goes back to their hometown for New Year (also
called Spring Festival), ensuring the bus, train and air routes will
all be clusterfucked. The only thing smaller than Chinese foreskin is
Chinese forethought (*double snare-kick-cymbal crash*). But we got
seats on an overnight sleeper, caught it at a frozen 3:30 AM and awoke
more or less rested in Tsingtao.
There were a bunch of German settlers there about a century ago,
starters of the famous brewery, and they left some architectural
influence. It’s also very dense and hilly, so it felt sort of like
San Franciso to me (though not THAT hilly) or a bit of Europe in
China, but the red tile roofs had me feeling Italy more than
Deutschland. There was a snow a few days before, and they got more
than Liaocheng, so there was still plenty of snow in the corners and
ice on the hills. The hostel where we stayed was in a converted
observatory and really cool, though the tiny restaurant in the
telescope part was freezing cold. We split a private room with it’s
own bath, very reasonable, but there were also dorm style rooms in the
three story building.
Almost immediately we met Lou, who was up on the hill taking pictures
but not staying at the hostel. She was born in Tsingtao but has lived
most of her life in LA and NYC. I know I’m into Chinese girls, but
seeing her general Western style, nose ring and saying fuck every
sixth word, had me realizing it’s more about Chinese-American girls.
She didn’t have long before having to go to a huge family lunch, but
we went on this goosechase trying to find a market area by bus, none
of us really knowing the right way. Eventually, we got into a cab and
headed back to the right area, but Dean and I hopped out to check some
stores we saw on the way and paid the cabbie to take her on. She gave
me her number, but it turned out to be a digit short when I tried to
call later…

There was a big free dinner party that night at the hostel, and the
baiju flowed liberally. Other guests who had seemed standoffish
before now got lubed and loquacious. There were several Irish
teachers from Korea who’d come over the the holiday. And at dusk the
fireworks started…well I guess I mean the colorful ones, as noisey
bangs had become a constant in the previous days. From our vantage we
could see half the city, what wasn’t blocked on the other side of the
hill and explosions were everywhere. The beer ran out and more
arrived and the colorful explosions continued. When I’d left Dean
inside, he was pounding drinks hard with some Korean guys. It was
eventually reported to me that after falling over, they’d taken him
off somewhere. Which I presumed meant to some room to sleep, as I had
the only key and knew he wasn’t in ours. ‘Fucking rookie’, I thought
‘passed out by 9 and missing all of this’. Hands down the greatest
firework evening of my life. We had some of our own of course an lit
them in the snow, but not the heavy artillery colorful stuff. It went
on until midnight, then an hour of “finale”. Madness! We made
dumplings and ate for late night munchies and everyone pretty much
wandered off. I was still up with the owner and a woman from Texas
when a phone call came. Someone from the hostel had been arrested
breaking a glass door across town, and police were bringing them over
now. We laughed about the pathetitudue of it all, and pondered the
condition he’d be in after police Chinese cutody. The owner described
“the panda” which amounts to two black eyes.
“I’ll bet it’s one of those Canadians who left before dinner. That
big one looked mean”, I said.
“Yes, your right”, AJ agreed.
“No”, the counter girl said.”Room 306″
My blood went cold, as that was our room.
“No it can’t be. I’m in 306 and Dean is…passed out….somewhere…(I hope)”
“I think it is him, the boy from England…”
Oh sweet mother of fuck!
I went up to get his passport to give the cops, which I essentially
had to, and asked AJ to try and get me a minute alone to talk with
Dean to explain selling him out at this point, even though it was a
situation of his own making. But still, even though there were no
options, giving someone elses passport to Communist Cops doesn’t feel
good. I sweated and waited. This had to be some bad joke.
Car rolled up about 20 minutes later and I was expecting a bloody
panda to emerge from the backseat. But Dean actually seemed rather
jovial, with remarkable Chinese for his condition, an actually joking
around with the cops. They let me take him aside and I gave him the
passport to give them.
“What the fuck, Dean…”
” I know mate, I fucked up. Big time.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t really know. I’ve been blacked out most of the evening. But
apparently I’ve broken something…”
“A glass door the owner wants 10,000 RMB for (over $1,500), and you
fucked with a bank’s door. The cops picked you up sleeping in front
of an ATM…”
“Shit*”
“Why DEAN?”
“Can’t say. I remember nothing.”

He was released as they had his passport and he’d be an idiot to leave
town without it. The plan was to go to the station the next day with
AJ and try to negotiate the price down. Up in the room, I plugged him
for more information, but he had nothing I described the last time
I’d seem him hours before and he didn’t remember any of it, the Korean
guys, nothing. I’ve seen Dean drink plenty, and Jinan just the week
before had been a “blowout” but I had no inclining a beast such as
this dwelt within him.
“How are you gonna pay? Ask your folks for the money?”
“My parents don’t have any money. I’m gonna have to ask the school in
Liaocheng.”
He’d only remembered at some point thinking there was a zombie
apocalypse and begging the cops not to “go out there”.
I laughed bitterly and was soon asleep. I awoke to the sound of Dean
puking his guts out, the phone rang and it was time for him to go to
the Police station. Certainly that day’s hangover beat the Jinan one
for him. After a few hours the school called and I talked to Carol,
who was in a full panic. The cops had found her number in his wallet
and called the night before.
“What has happened? Why did you leave him? (because I am older, there
is a cultural assumption I should have been watching out for “younger
brother”) What was the phone number of the restaurant owner?”
And of course I had no info for her, but resented her presumptions, as
indeed HE’D left, I never went anywhere, and after months of cleaning
up after his 23 year old ass. Not to mention he fucked the chick I
was after for three months, and I’d wanted to come on this vacation on
my own anyway, and he’d tagged along like a fucking puppy. I’d didn’t
want to hear any shit about “responsible for Dean”. He’d made his bed
and he’d lie in it. I told Carol he planned to ask the school for the
money, and she laughed bitterly.

So I went on with my day, what else could be done? I went and toured
the Tsingtao brewery with the Irish which was mediocre. They only
give two small beers and the giftshop, the main reason I went, didn’t
have much. It was more of a museum tour, we saw no live brewing. I
wandered home, exploring the city. Got a cool robot, mech-warrior
model in a shop that seemed mostly a flower store but had a few toys.
I ran into some gay guys from Chicago who were staying at the hostel
and wandered with them a while trying to find this historic German
house, but was soon hungry and tried, in need of a shower, and headed
back to the hostel on my own after they pointed the way.
Eventually, Dean showed back up after spending most of the day with
the cops. Carol called again while he was in the shower and seemed
more calm but still claimed it was the “worst New Year” ever, and
asked me again not to drink any more.
“Fuck that! I didn’t break anything. I had a lovely evening, not
even a hangover as I just stuck to beer.” But I tried to calm her as
well. AJ had talked the price down to 5,000 and the school had indeed
wired him the money, about a months salary, which he now owed them,
but he had his passport back and supposedly there were no charges
being pressed. Apparently the guy who owned the restaurant was a
mobster, but as I never even saw him, this is the vaguest speculation.
AJ’s previous hostel had been “closed by gangsters” and I think he
sort of had gangster paranoia. But who knows… Bottom line, Dean
the black out drunk got lucky as fuck after getting really stupid. At
one point, the cops showed him the video from the bank of his butting
up against the doors, out of his mind wasted.
“If only it had just been the restaurant, the cops wouldn’t have had
any evidence”, he said.
“Zip it Dean”, I told him. “You have to own this! Now lets try to
get on with the vacation.”

We’d gotten tons of great DVD’s at a shop the day before, that night
found Book City which had lots of English titles (which means two
shelves worth, in China) finally got my own copy of the four volume
Outlaws of the Marsh so I don’t have to worry with borrowing volumes
elsewhere to get through the 1200 pages. We had dinner with a
Canadian living in Shanghi named Matt at a Korean Bar-b-que place.
Tsingtao has the Old City which is the hilly part, and the New City
which is more modern, full of jazz bars and conveniences, but much
less charming.
The next day was more wandering, exploring, had some sushi, back to
the new city for a two huge department stores, one French owned an one
Japanese. Dean was psyched to find Stella Artois. He had three
despite his new swearing off alcohol (but to be fair, he hasn’t had a
drop since) and I some Tsingtao dark, which is tasty and stronger than
the regular. And they even had Cheese, not processed bullshit but
real slice-able cheese. But it was stupid expensive, in small
packages that never would have made the trip home after a few drinks,
so we just stood there a while and looked at cheese – which was free.
I also saw one of my favorite wines Negro Gato, which is $7 for a
magnum in the States, but here slightly less than a bottle of Jameson.
I was so befuddled I almost grabbed a salesgirl to freakout on, but
what would have been the point?
That night met some more travelers, including a swell Hungarian chick
who lived in NYC for a while. Next morning we went to the train
station at dawn, glad we’d already gotten tickets home as soon as we
got to town, but not yet realizing it was for the local train that
would stop in most every station. So it was a freezing cold day, took
about 10 hours to get home, but at least we had seats the entire way,
which some didn’t.

Flickr is so huge, it is fed by “farms”, which I believe refer to
server farms. At first I thought it just might be me, but looking
around in the forums there I have confirmed that farms 3 and 5 are
blocked in Northern China at the moment; and this when I was just
given two more years membership as an Xmas gift. As a result, I can
not see most of my images, the more current ones, nor my contacts. I
can read image titles about others recent vacations etc, but only get
to see a red dot in the rectangular silhouette. Also IMBD is off
limits (really? you fuckers…) and Wikipedia comes and goes. And
obviously pornhub which was miraculously activated a few weeks back
doesn’t crank out the money shots any longer. Thus has begun my
search through various forums, which will remain nameless, for ways
around this bullshit.

Maybe I’ll spend my Spring Festival vacation in a Falun Gong training
camp in Taiwan or Tibet…

Went to Qufu (choo fu), Confucius’ hometown, which was nice to get out of Liaocheng for a day, but unlike the Forbidden city and various sites in Beijing, they allow vendors on site.  As there aren’t many tourists in winter, they are hungry, and ALL OVER YOU…  sort of a drag. And we had a big snow a few weeks back.  Did I mention our apt. has no heat?  The rooms do have electric units, but the main room has no gas heat, as they are repairing it for the entire building.  But what’s the point of bitching about this here?  Or the new roommate from the UK whose only 23 and used to his mommy cleaning up after him all the time?

Here are some articles I’ve compiled on Chinese weather manipulation (some sci fi shit…here’s another from Wired), censorship (I’ve heard from a woman who works with my Dad at the Fulton library, “party” members even harass anti-party press in the Chinese community in ATL),a robot Olympics,gang trials, and stupid laws no one is about to obey.  Happy clicking.

Living in China, I’ve had some encounters with other American’s over here to “teach English” who are in fact protestant Christians who feel they must convert, “save”, these lowly Chinese savages and inject bible-speak into every conversation they can. This despite the fact that Confucious, who is 500 years older than the “Christ child”, has had a more lasting effect upon the morality of China than the impact Holy J seems to have had upon the west. The wars, rape and murder keep on and on, but some just won’t shut about him. Unfortunately, many of these boring-ass myths are new to the Chinese students and they indulge the coersation, not to mention they’ll do most “anything to practice English”. I was hoping to vent some of this angst enjoying a film with this name, but the story has almost nothing to do with the title. A better title would have been Gynocide, which is seen written on a notebook at one point during the film. Note the feminist symbol for the T in the poster…

The prologue of this film is straight beautiful, even if a bit heavy handed. There are glimpses of the blunt carnality to come. But the film is more of a psychological thriller/ghost story than apocryphal. Charolette Gainsbourg steels the show from Defoe, but they both have rather solid performances. I wouldn’t have minded seeing her go off even more when it gets to that bit. I didn’t think the violence was as hardcore as some, or as realistic. A man would not carry on so after receiving such wounds. It’s got the fucking and genital mutilation you may have heard about, but not to such great effect. I’m not sure about Von Trier’s overall message in this film – is sort of wreaks of misogynistic paranoia. And you know it’s bad if I’m saying such a thing…. But it’s creepy like you want a scary movie to be creepy. I also give props for making a “small”, non-blockbuster film, and tasteful use of CG for a pleasant change.

So right now this is just Bob Pollard style fake band and fake album/fake song titles, but the new roommate Dean is on the way from the UK and is a bass player. So maybe I’ll get a classical acoustic as are so cheap in a nearby shop, a better mike for the software and we’ll actually record some of these songs…

Band: Qilin(chi lien)

Album: Liaocheng Shien Tsi

side A- Buddha was a hippie, Lao Tzu was punk rock
I beat a little Emperor, then another one
Somehow the un-lubed Happy Ending works
Sha-fucking-ma?
Wua shiang my negga (I would like to buy this)
Down to 400 RMB for the week
cheap but cheap

Side B- What the hell are you saying?
Ditch oil
Juicy Mao
pay me if you want to stare
Golden Pig Blues
Tai Chi on a frozen morning
Ain’t goin’ back to Bo Ai
Hey Shiao Jia, dig this…

Anyway, there was no doubting this teacher – he read me like a book. He could tell when I was doing something with my arm or with my Chi. He had a little “time out” T motion he would use to stop me whenever my motion was originating from the wrong place, and I’d start again. He would also stop me at just the right point, which I’m slowly learning to recognize. Then he would make me close my eyes, and take like a psychic snapshot to try and recognize the position. I don’t mean to be overly flaky in describing this, but that’s what it felt like. He’d say things in Chinese, which of course I couldn’t get, but I can say “I understand” and “I don’t understand”, and he can say “OK”, and make the thumbs up sign along with smiles, frowns and occasional blatant hand slapping or shaking out my arms when I was getting too tense. I felt like we had communication going and I was at least getting some things right, based on the look that eventually came over his face. It’s like meditation: you can tell when you’re hitting alpha wave state, but can’t really describe it or explain exactly how you get there. You just zone in on this other place, over time it’s a muscle to be exercised like any other.

Then I followed his head student through what were supposedly the first six moves, but felt more like 20. It’s hard to understand where one begins and the next ends, and of course they couldn’t completely tell me. But then I’d be surprised by another student being able to say just a few words in English to clarify. If I keep going often enough, things will become clearer and clearer – through muscle memory if nothing else. Plus there is all sorts of action in the park: people of all ages stretching, doing this rhythmic pingpong ball toss and catch, various weapons training, and other exercises; not to mention all of the tables of gaming – majong, Chinese chess, card games; and people playing classical music. Commies really know how to utilize a public space…

In other news, one month without TV (I’ll get a DVD player later, we don’t pay for channels and what would be the point?) but plenty of beer drinking with the music and net. Also digging more into Old Time radio (a strange nostalgia for my culture, or as it was 50-70 years ago), I recently found a PK Dick story on X-1 from May 22,1956 (#50 The Defenders). Not the greatest or anything, but still the first time I’ve heard Dick done for radio. Thankfully Phil didn’t have to live to see some of the less prestigious adaptations, not to mention blatant rip offs, of his work.

Anyway, my load is about 21 hours per week, for starting pay of 5K RMB (same as Yuan) per month. It’s about $734, not impressive for the west. But when I consider I can save 1000yuan per month and still live on 1000 per week, I’m essentially living like a king by Chinese standards, and my first raise is in 3 months. And also, this IS the “light” season. I will have one hell month in Winter (Jan or Feb), and one hell month in Summer (June or July) which means working closer to 40 hours per week. When I say 21 hours, that’s classroom teaching time, also have to make lesson plans, some teacher meetings, other school functions and dinners I must attend. Also there is a rotation that goes out to another rural school two days a week to what we call Bo Ai. I’m not on Bo Ai shift this month and am already trying to figure out how to get out of next month. It’s only an hour, flash cards with little kids, but an hour each way, so that’s another 6 hours per week not your own, every other month. I guess Bo Ai just stops during our “hell months”. So in a typical week, I am off Mon and Wed; one class in the evening Tues and Thurs (not counting Bo Ai), Fri; a full day of 4 two hour classes on Sat, and 3 two hour classes Sun. Ages range from 5-14, and actually my Tuesday nite class is adults level 1, beginners (more to come here…). Classes have at least 8 students, my biggest has 18 which is considered “too large”. A new teacher from the UK is on the way, and will make some of our large classes smaller. The worst are the 8-11 year olds, esp. the boys. Like maniacs are they! It’s shocking how they will run amok before class and during the 15 minute break that separates the two hours. Parents often just idly stand by and watch art being torn from the walls, screaming and chasing etc. It’s a combination of “one child – little emperor” (which is not as strict a “law” as westerners are lead to believe) spoiling and the fact these kids are pent up in class most of their week. Yeah they get recess, but they have almost no unstructured time. “Little boys are naughty” – is just understood, and little is done to curtail their behavior. The Chinese assistants get the worst of it, as occassionaly one will bo up and say all sorts of abusive things. It’s in Chinese, but you can tell it’s ugly. The discipline style is to verbally shame the kids into submission, which usually works, but not always. We can assign homework as punishment (picture Bart Simpson at the chalkboard) but this also only goes so far. Of course, it’s even more hilarious for them to see a foreign teacher lose his shit (remember when you had a “sub” at that age? Now imagine how much funnier it would have been to abuse them had they a heavy Chinese accent…) so this must not happen. The shear noise and commotion… It isn’t helped when you’re trying to prep your materials for the young ones and some jackass parent comes into the room and starts SCREAMING into a cell phone – that’s just the style here. The school’s main concern is that the money keeps coming in, so they don’t want to push things beyond a certain point. But anyone who knows me, knows this isn’t MY style, and I will only be pushed so far. I’ve already instituted business cards with our names for each of us to hand out (after all, we are walking advertisements all around town…) and if we can prove enrolling a certain number of kids/new clients, I will vote we be allowed to kick out some of the worse ones, who after all only slow up everything for those who can learn. And it’s only a matter of time ’til one of these naughty boys will discover “the emperor really does wear no clothes” i.e. we don’t have much ultimate power, and we have some sort of Lord of the Flies situation on our hands. I already saw one nasty fight between two boys, and the first thing the parents wanted to know was what the teacher had done to cause this. The teacher of course was already on his way out the door (not me), finished with the end of his final class on a long day, and could care less if two little demon emperors wanted to tear each others throat’s out. At least they don’t have guns… Another factor is: keep in mind how medicated American kids are – ridalin, prosac, who knows what the fuck, and there is none of that here, at least as far as I can tell.

So my adults are also all rich. One owns a coffeeshop/hotel/spa, which is just a hobby and not his real income. I was having a Chinese lesson with a friend in his shop and he invited us to dinner, which ended up being in a posh dining room. I was a bit dumbfounded and nervous, until our first class when I quickly realized he was the worst student. So it seemed he was trying to bribe me… But I’m more than willing to hang out in his expensive coffeeshop (which is more like a bar) and he can ply me with 15 year old scotch (even more exotic here) and such while we practice his elementary conversation starters and ABC’s. There was also a BDay party for one of our teachers (and my roommate) and most of the school in SPR coffee, which he owns (franchise). At one point, well buzzed and after singing all the verses I could remember of “Hotel California” to a conga and hollow body guitar, I wandered over to Rick’s “men’s table” so he could show me off to his buddies and they could drunkenly bellow their limited English into my ear. I am learning to drink warm beer, because the style is to slam small cups of it…”now this toast do 2, now this time 3!”…and you just can’t get cold beer down as easily. So I sip my one cold large one, and slam small warm ones, it all ads up quickly. Anyway, I didn’t want to be rude to my school friends…mostly female…and wandered back to the main table. All of the Chinese drunken men acted like 10 year olds trying to win the cool kid back “Here Teacher, have more whiskey…here Teacher we’ll give you this!…you want cigarette?…you want this? Come back to the men!”. Woke up the next morning, not hungover, but with a cold from overdoin’ it and biking home in the fog, but a friend took me to the pharmacy. They gave me a shitload of pills for like $2 and I was 99% again within a day.

Anyway, there’s an impression of the job. Meeting other foreigners, some other little dramas and joys, and still generally getting along fine. For now…

In the midst of moving to and adjusting within the lifestyle of China, I haven’t had a chance before now to give proper memorial for an old friend who recently past. Thom was a totally swell guy I hung with quite a bit in the late 80’s/early 90’s.

In high school, I had a friend who’s Mom moved to Canada for several months leaving his older sister in charge. No surprise, this became a party house of sorts, during what we now refer to as “Salad Days”(I believe taken from the Minor Threat song). It was in this era that I first met Thom. He was a year older and went to another high school, but we had similar musical and cultural tastes. In fact we collaborated on a zine called Soma, which I think only ever achieved two issues, and who knows if I even have one buried in my files any longer. But he went on to become program director for my favorite ATL radio station, GA tech’s WREK, where they have a podcast and memorial in the works. I last ran into he and his wife in the winter of 2006(07?) and was pleased to realize he seemed the “same old Thom”. He died in a hiking accident in the Grand Canyon, and while this is obviously horrible, to happen while he was so young, I take comfort in the fact he was spared some more painful fate in possibly not as beautiful a setting. Knowing we all have to go some time, may I say I hope for a similar passage. I wish all the best to his surviving wife and family, and know that all who knew him will always think fondly of him. He was that open and friendly type, without enemies or spite, while still striving hard against a mundane system that deserves to be shaken up-

But how exactly to spontaneously pitch this?
I guess he wasn’t too impressed, for his response came, and I’ll never forget,
“You have a bookstoaahh?” like a junkie Elmer Fudd doing an impersonation of a New Yorker.

And then quickly some student union handler whisked him away with a promised carrot juice. Surely he was tired after the reading, surely wackballs approached him constantly, and as the sage N. Peart reminds us “one must put up barriers to keep oneself in tact.” I’m not bitter or anything, that’s just my little Jim Carroll story. He came of age in a great city at a unique time in it’s history and wrote some great stuff. I first saw this photo on the inner sleeve of J. Giorno’s compilation “Your a hook”.

J Carroll and P Smith in 1969. photo by Wren D’Antonio

The Animated Heavy Metal Parking Lot from Leslie Supnet on Vimeo.

Different than her clip they ran on Twitch a few weeks ago, this is an animated version of scenes from Heavy Metal Parking Lot.

I don’t really have that many things for a person my age, and had I a house in which to arrange them, they wouldn’t seem like much at all. But damn if it doesn’t still seem like so much stuff. Am I a clothes horse? No, and yet all of these T and button down shirts I can’t seem to part with. A look through the books one more time for what can be traded in and what must be present when The Library is eventually assembled. Yes, record jackets are kick ass, and vinyl is it’s own thing, but hauling around piles of it sucks! What business does a nomad have collecting art, even these small pieces? Tools which are useful and should be kept but are seldom used. Other hobby gear along these lines. What stands out the most are little “stocking stuffer” type gifts given out of some sense of “balance” or just more packages to open, that get tucked away into closets and boxes, never opened, never really wanted.

And god knows a year from now I’ll have another pile of stuff on the other side of the Pacific trying to figure out what needs to be shipped back over here…

I’ve been pulling for Michael Mann since the early days ala Manhunter, with the creepy Francis Dollarhyde and early “rock video” use of bad trip anthem “Ina gadda da vida”. What is it about his style that just doesn’t take off, esp. these days?
The cast is stellar, as is the soundtrack. The strongest kick is the period setting, recreating the 30’s world of polished hardwoods, marble, wool and steel of the tommy gun. And indeed there are many great shootouts, the tommy gun intensifying the violence. But Christian Bale’s southern accent is hokey and somehow all the elements brought together here just don’t get their Gestalt on. Worth seeing, but no need for the big screen.

Now past the time constraint, we were free for what I considered the fun part: taking some state highways on the way back. We took PA 209 from Port Jervis and followed the Delaware river down. A large black bear ran across the road just in front of us and into a corn field, no doubt on to do some fishing in the Delaware. Unfortunately I had no time for a photo, but thankfully it wasn’t a close call: 16′ Penske vs. Bear = mess for all. We had lunch in Nazareth, PA enjoying the small town Real America. Lots of bikers in PA.

Tonight we’re crashing in Staunton, VA where there is the abandoned DeJarnette hospital just off 81 and across from the Microtel. The desk lady assured me the cops snatch up infiltrators regularly and enforce jail time, so I only took some pics from across the road. Here’s some more from Flickr of those who’ve made it in. The classic “haunted” TB/mental hospital…maybe next time. Plus, Staunton has 2 indie movie theatres. Tomorrow some more exploration in VA and back to ATL. I love roadtrips, esp. of the semi-aimless variety!

I’m not a visual artist, but have gotten interested in graffiti in recent years. Watching this docInfamy just now, I realized there is something for the voyeur too. And I’m not talking about the thousands of lame pieces you’re gonna see day in day out, but something really weird in a cool place, (for me I guess seeing Botch in the abandoned prison in ATL), then seeing other works by the artist. Touching a bit of the obsession. But for all of the lame ego tricking that goes on with the game, there is genuine curiosity in the mix sometimes.

Like it wouldn’t really change anything to meet the people doing these things, but it would be cool anyway.

This film has gotten much hype and acclaim, all of it deserved. It stands now as a further memorial to the demolished towers, and a beautiful quixotic event in another bleak economic period. I also think it’s really interesting that there was another toll or cost from the event, in terms of the lost friendships and love, which are honestly discussed. A must see! I’ll probably read Philipe’s pick pocket book at some point as well.

When I was traveling around Northern Italy in the Spring of 2004, I kept seeing a book by this American con. Thus began my introduction to Edward Bunker. I read a few of his books soon after, including The Animal Factory. I knew Steve Buscemi made a film version in 2000, but I only recently got around to seeing it. Why this film, with Willem Dafoe and Edward Furlong, wasn’t better received I can only count to the prison subject matter. But I thought it was really well done, including a soundtrack from the enigmatic John Lurie. One IMDB review I saw complained of the plot being “unbelievable”, but it’s completely true to the novel…I think the real complaint was Furlong was too good looking to not get punked, but whatever.

So I’ve been in contact with an English school in Jinan, China and am awaiting my invitation letter, which will land me a work visa, and a move on the the next chapter of my life. Unfortunately I heard from the school yesterday, that the Chinese govt. has slowed way down, if not halted the issuing of such visa over lingering fears of swine flu. A little searching around elsewhere confirms this. So my wait will be a bit long and future a bit less certain. But I’m not in such a bad spot right now, have other work in the meanwhile. Things could be worse.

I don’t have the swine flu, and am ready to stand before a panel of Chinese doctors to confirm this. Just give me a chance ya’ll!

I guess they actually had quite a challenge, with all the franchise history, to go back and tell the pre-story, esp. against the backdrop of all of the technological changes that have come about since 1966. I would have gone with some serious high end set designers to get the perfect combination of 60’s technicolor style against the 21st century audience expectation, and kept the CG shit to a minimal. But that’s not what summer blockbusters are made of. The only time they get seriously wrong is during a gratuitous monster scene. Common with the absurd over the top CG monsters already! We can’t be scared by a large monster…it has to be a crazy large monster, with red reptilian skin in a snow environment no less? Not buying it! The casting was OK, other than Simon Peg being too heavy a pick for comic relief, and the Chekov guy a total miss. Also, negative points for absurd, anachronistic use of a Beastie Boys song.
But the script is OK, and wisely hides behind “alternate timelines” to clear up some would be slop. Not sure why the new and old version of a character have to meet one another, but I guess that’s throwing a bone to the trekkies. But since you went with the PG 13 rating would it not be OK to have some boobs in there? Yeah I know, there are kids in the audience, but if you consider most every film between 1978-1983 had at least a few seconds of boobs and we turned out OK, what’s the problem? After all, those rogue Romulan miners might be the deciding factor in some of the kiddies making unfortunate decisions to get facial tattoos. Boobs never hurt anybody, and I’d argue the real James T. Kirk would approve.
In the end, do they manage to bring the franchise into the 21st century like Batman and James Bond? Yeah I guess, but without the “darkness”, and I rather like the darkness.

*update 5-19-09* Oh no! But I’m not really surprised…

My sister had an 8lb daughter yesterday, both are now doing well. The gbv song has little to do with this, other than the title and the recognition of aging, though it has all actually happened in good time.

He’s the Uncle

It occurred to me last night as I was reading some Borges, one thing I would never do, were I leading a barbarian horde in ancient times – destroy my enemies’ library. I can see the plundering of loot, destruction of crops, enslavement, and even crueler methods of killing off the first born, or thinning blood lines through rape, but why the fuck would you burn down the library? I would assimilate the library! Even if all of your enemies were reading garbage, or the same old thing, you’d be bound to pick up an esoteric volume or two with each conquest. Even if you couldn’t read the texts, someone you overpowered along the way would be able to – which also calls for a moments pause before slaying your way through those wimpy captured sages. The “ignorance is power” argument they must have been using just doesn’t stand up to the “knowledge is power” cliche of our information age. At the very least…knowledge is more fun. But I’m probably underestimating the barbarian pyromaniac factor. And when you stop to consider an art gallery is much like a library, and each musician is much like a library, and really, each mind is much like a library (…well most of them), soon you’ve seriously curtailed your barbarian license.

Here’s one resource page, and goodreads. A heavy hitter of 20th century outre fiction! Two other BBC articles on JGB references in music and as a Seer of the Atomic Age.

Finally found a great Ballardarian animated tribute. I’ll be doing more research on this filmmaker!

She was found dead in her mobile home in California. I’m a fan of the early Cronenberg film Rabid in which she starred. I’ve never actually seen Behind the Green Door…well maybe it was on a middle school VHS comp I briefly had possession of with Debbie Does Dallas and other “hits” of the era, but I don’t remember any of it.

And here’s a VERY 1977 interview.

What’s the point of this post? Nothing really, and I don’t know why I should be surprised to realize there is a semi-celebrity factor to the entire Con-model/cosplay scene. It was just weird to come across the info.

Great noir film director who left America after being blacklisted during the McCarthy era. He had a hit with the documentary style The Naked City, but last year I came across Thieves’ Highway which I highly recommend (trailer below), I can almost assure it to be the most cutthroat tale concerning fruit vendors you will ever encounter. There is also an French television interview where he describes working in the Hollywood system in the old days, and specifically with a “mommy dearest” style Joan Crawford. There was a recent film forum retrospective of several of his works in NYC. And the NYT obit. from last year.

pt.2

The following rules should be applied to all future films:

1. Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkeries” can never again be used during Vietnam attack footage. Coppola did it 30 years ago. It was great then, but is just lame now.
2. Midgets are no longer weird or scary, even prison midgets. Especially the guy who played Kramer’s lil buddy on Seinfeld.
3. So you love Bob Dylan, I do too. But three of his songs in an unrelated film, once by him, once by Hendrix and once by some power pop punk band during the ending credits is excessive.
4. Using that “Hallelujuah” song by Leonard Cohen or whoever the fuck is very likely to make a scene silly. This is definitely the case during a sex scene where a guy with ED discovers his costume is his mojo.
5. There is a major difference between idealized fake violence and stylized real violence. I’m sick of watching choreographed fights where people trade punches like a routine. Real fights often look spastic due to the adrenal factor.
6. Anyone whose had their head come in contact with stone tiles or porcelain after flying through the air is very likely to lose consciousness. At the very least they are going to be woozy.
7. That CG lynx/cat thing looked like shit

I saw a FrontlineWorld bit on this some time back. Sure, many right here in the States could use an interest free loan right about now, but the impact is so great in the developing world where such little money can go so far. Kiva is one site where as little as $50 can make a difference. Surely there are more examples out there.

I Bought a Van and Then It Got Stolen and Then I Got It Back

and when i got it back… GOOD NEWS!, it came with a FREE METH PIPE!!!,
and a bunch of hooker clothes and ratty makeup bags
and some Stars & Stripes Fruit Punch
and some Mexican toilet paper
and some Teddy Bear cookies
and some Double Stuffed Ravioli
and some Mini 3+2 Sandwich Crackers (Cheddar Cheese Flavor!!!)

and even though they stole my brand new $1500 Chinese GPS/DVD/USB/OPP stereo system, inside was a completely different $400 American stereo system undoubtedly stolen from some other dickhead. Poor loser.

I also got a few extra tools to start up my own auto-theft stereo/hooker biznizz!!

I called the state parole board to find out about the woman who’s papers were in the van, turns out she was locked up the same day for something else. I called numbers on her papers and talked to her husband and grandmother both of whom were relieved that she isn’t dead. He mentioned her children which was sorta sad. They had no idea where she was.

I might go visit her in jail and interview her about her time living in my van. Take a picture at least.

If i ever do, look for it here : www.aHookerStoleMyVan.com

what else…

Oh yeah, despite having made it 22 years without any dents, the hooker done dented it right in front of the sliding door. Ran into a pole. Crap. Perfect no more.

DON’T GIVE BLOW JOBS WHILE DRIVING ON METH!!!

Anyway, her name was Danielle McKee and her rap sheet is mostly drugs and prostitution, she probably didn’t steal the van, but perhaps got it in exchange for a rim job. — i don’t mind publicizing that assumption.

That’s what I have been doing, HOW BOUT YOUS GUYS?

A strange as it seems, some series didn’t last long and not much is known about them today, such as The Weird Circle. I tend to enjoy the horror, sci fi, cop and suspense stuff the most. Lots of Poe adaptations, if only he got a chance to know how much they loved to adapt him in the mid-20th… BTW, Poe celebrated what would have been the 200th BDay back in mid-Jan.

This looks like a rather amazing line up – can’t imagine how it’s free… I guess some car companies still have huge advertising budgets. But how many headbanger metalheads can they get driving Scions, no matter how customized?
It’ll probably be a packed madhouse by the time Mastadon and Neurosis take the stage, but hopefully I can have a reasonably pleasant experience if I try to catch Boris and Harvey Milk.

I don’t know if you’ve been following the hype with the release of this film, mostly concerning Rourke’s “comeback”, but part of the excitement for me was picturing Aronofsky’s trademark directorial style in the mix – stopmotion sped up, quick montage of micro clips in sequence to convey an abstracted mood. Sadly there is none of that. But it’s a good film anyway. Marisa Tomei looks amazing at 44, Rourke does indeed deliver. It’s really a “small” film, and would be a downer for most. All the locations are decidedly authentic Jersey and non-Hollywood. It was a stark contrast to all the trailers beforehand (and to be fair, they are gearing up for spring blockbuster season) which all centered around mutants, apocalyptic scenarios, and science fiction. This was very much a film about, and set in reality, despite dealing with the human truth behind the fantasy industries of wrestling and stripping. No glamor here.

No spoilers, but at first, the ending didn’t sit well with me. It seemed somehow cliche “Hollywood”, but then thinking about it a bit, I realized there were at least two other directions they could have gone which would have been more “Hollywood”, both tragic and romantic. So in the end, I would recommend you see this film, but there’s no need to rush to the big screen. After scoring a hit with this stripped down work, an almost too deliberate move after The Fountain, I’ll be curious to see what Aronofsky does next. And Rourke for that matter.

“Rock ‘n’ Roll specialists”

I love this show, and am happy to find from the one episode I’ve seen from season 2 so far, the quality is being maintained. Sometimes the song bits can be a bit much, but sometimes they are spot on. It’s hard not to draw comparisons to the comedy of The Mighty Boosh, or Tenatious D, but if you think about it, I’d argue they have their own original style going. Good support from characters like Mel and Murray help as well. Here’s a recent interview. Clips.

So I am the first of three intensive weekends through my training to become an English teacher in foreign lands. I’m psyched to think I’ll most likely be “elsewhere” by this spring or summer, actually earning in country rather than my usual “clock is ticking” financial strategy while traveling. The options of where I might go are somewhat limited by my not having a four year degree, but the following countries are on the table: Cambodia, Indonesia, China, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina and other spots in South America. One of my fellow students is from Alexandria, Egypt and claims to be able to hook me up there. It’s all so exciting, hard to pick a spot, but that’s not the focus right now – right now it’s all about…Engage, Study, Activate, over and again, in as many ways as possible.
Also looking into some volunteer work with the IRC in Decatur/Clarkston to help beef up the resume…

Meanwhile, I also recently saw a bumper sticker that said “My boss is a Jewish terrorist”. Makes you think. While I’m not quite ready to take it to the streets, I will say I find the media blackout, general disproportionate response (just as the US’s was to 9/11), and killing of UN workers unacceptable. I’m sure the Bush administration was stunned when Hamas became the democratically elected govt over Fatah. We’ll see how the new administration eases itself into that hornet’s nest, along with the other domestic and world messes…

Well this is the second, and it’s pretty good – Slumdog Millionaire. I’m not sure the show actually started in the US. The first I refer to to is the 2006 French film Mon meilleur ami where the game-show wasn’t as central to the plot. Slumdog is a bit conventional at times, and ultimately sort of a date movie. But I’ll be looking for more Freida Pinto work…

There is no excuse for this sort of behavior, but I’ve been there. It’s another argument for the home theater experience, but I refuse to cower in one entirely. I’ll still try to catch films I want to see in mostly empty and cheaper matinees.

Letting this end is so foolish! If it is no longer profitable for your company, why not sell off the formula and let someone else hang on to it for the diehards? Supposedly the company is open to doing this after 2009, but I won’t be comfortable until the deal is made. Vinyl wasn’t allowed to fully die in the 90’s (thank you turntablists), horses can still go places cars can’t. Gung ho technology and all that, but never eliminate the hard copy. Anyone who has ever wound up a Victrola by candlelight during a power outage knows how cool a feeling that is. Also see Polanoid.

And a song from Athens, GA based Madeline Adams Betty Page from her album “Kissing and Dancing”.

I need work, and have put a temporarily fix on the situation by becoming a seasonal driver’s helper for UPS. And the irony factor for my life being what it is, I’m cruising the old haunts of Chamblee, GA a town I am drawn to in one way or another again and again. While the money isn’t stellar, I can do anything for a short time, and can make the most of flying in and out of the jumpseat (definitely using seatbelt each time, as the sidedoor is mostly open and pace is beyond brisk), and seeing anew the community I’ve known, and it’s various changes, my entire life. The wall of the stadium I used to foolishly walk along, 3-4 stories up, when I was 13. There’s the guy I painted houses with for a time back in ‘04, but I won’t bother saying hi – he wouldn’t recognize me shaven anyway. Now a package going to the weightlifting, art collecting father of a good friend, where I did some work when I was with the art installer two years ago – do they give me factotum props or think I’m a grasping loser? Hopefully we won’t be stopping at the home of the long ago x-girlfriend down the street, whose parents would assuredly try to kill me, if they knew or recognized, which surely would not be the case.

You gain new respect for these guys, these delivery drivers. Drop off is only half the game. After the overnight, then “ground” speed-rate deliveries, come dozens of pick ups, including plenty of heavy objects from various factories around the area. My favorite part is getting a glimpse of what goes on in dozens of would-be anonymous small warehouses in the area: Chinese people loading produce and seafood into vans, who knew there was a small coffee distributor tucked away back here? Or this Vespa mechanic?

It also becomes obvious how much a driver knows about the area and lives on his route, not really from being nosey, but a part of doing the job well. “There is no 3567 on that street”, for example, “it’s a bad address”. People with home businesses get lots of deliveries and the smart ones are friendly and give a Christmas tip. Neighbors talk about one another. “These are like 9 Inch Nails people, they don’t come out in the daylight…Columbine shit.” And it quickly becomes obvious who has dogs and roughly what size they are. “There’s where the lady yelled at me that time for ringing the doorbell when her baby had just fallen asleep. But I was just doing the job. Without a note how was I supposed to know that?”

Overall, it’s interesting to see the dehumanizing effect that goes on. You are Delivery Driver, not a person with any scope beyond that. Everyone thinks there’s is the most important business, there’s the most important package. “We aren’t quite ready, could you come back for the pick up in half an hour?” The answer is obviously no, and if you stopped to think, you’d become aware of the exponential nature of afternoon holiday traffic on the main boulevard. Everyone has a story about a botched delivery, or sour interaction, but these are far in the statistical minority. You aren’t thinking about the mistakes that might have gone on with the truck loading, number-crunchers at the top still bitter about the strike of ‘97, the way other drivers seem to think delivery trucks are as slow as MARTA buses (when in fact the opposite is true) and don’t want to let them into traffic. You forget there are people attempting to assume the roles of magical robots for your convenience.

My first hint of such things I encountered seeing “death porn” magazines in LA during my first trip out there in ‘94. There was a general pre-millenial crazy with killers and satanism in the 90’s, a throwback to the big 70’s craze, which included all sort of paranormal interest, from biorhythms to Est. There was a claim that many of the corpses shown mutilated in these magazines were victims of satanic cults in Mexico. It sounds like the usual nonsense hysteria when presented like that, but when you dig a little deeper, there are actual beliefs going on that help sustain, along with the chemicals, weapons and money, the malicious cycles of violence.

*another relevant article, found through bp’s bagofwinds blog, link to the right

And mention tomorrow I’ll be tending concessions at the Winter I.C.E. Atlanta event for I believe my third year now, good fun.

Found dead in Portland, OR.

Floyd Webb is making a film about John Keene AKA Count Dante and you can follow the progress through his blog. Dojo wars, bleeding ulcers and comic book advertising: a very 70’s story.

And he has a heck of a job to do: restarting the economy, repairing the US image in the world view, continuing to battle against those who wish to see America destroyed. But many of us are exited by the change he brings and embrace the return to true leadership!

For 10 years afterward, on Halloween the anniversary of his death, seances would be held in an attempt to contact him. Ironic as he was a devote debunker of spiritualism, which is part of a rift with his one time friend Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who believed in contacts with the spirit world. His wife Bess took part in her last seance attempt to contact him, held on the rooftop of the Knickerbocker Hotel, after failing to receive a pre-arranged code she and her late husband had designed. But others continue the seances even to this day…

But now I’m sort of cringing as this charismatic and likable guy steps to the plate:

-the fragile state of the Pakistani govt. and it’s nuclear weapons, discussed here, among other things.

-a sense that the “economic woes” are just in the first minute of a three day hangover

-a re-examination of race relations in America. It’s an important thing, but I sense lots of ugly things are about to be said on many sides.

-and more trouble and stink bombs left by the current administration. Remember when Clinton went out and aides pranked the White House, taking all the W’s off the keyboards among other things? Well, it wasn’t as bad as violating the solidarity of Syria…

“Hope” vs. “Doom and Gloom” – we shall see.

1934 Fetiche Mascotte is one of Terry Gilliam’s fav’s from Ladislaw Starewicz.

The stories were simplistically drawn, and while my lack of understanding Italian prevented me from really judging the quality, there was no doubt I was in possession of smut. But a style of smut one finds themselves challenged to find elsewhere – sexy horror, boobs with zombies and vampires. I have since learned the genre to be referred to as fumetti neri. The French and Spanish have their own versions of such books, but the Italians seem most over the top.
Though the artists often shamelessly steal source material and images, it is the covers of these little gems that are the most intriguing. The Groovy Age of Horror has done some great analysis and archiving of various examples, including more Zora La Vampira and so I will refer you there.

This is an engrossing, but long, French psychological thriller adapted from the Harlan Coben novel. The many twists and turns keep the pacing taught, and though you may get lost once or twice, everything is essentially wound up at the end. The was one shot with a “shaky cam” that nearly made me nauseous, but it was quickly followed by one of the greatest multi-car pile ups I’ve seen in film. If that was CG, consider me completely fooled. I also loved the sympathetic gangster thug angle, a homely organ grabbing interrogator, and soundtrack with included 60’s soul, ambiance and Sigur Ros style instrumental drama ballads. A great foreign film to see!

The best part was when they destroyed everybody in sections A through F.
Special thanx to Kafkaesq.

Although it didn’t happen on that first flight, I also want to take a moment for Laika, who was the first terran being into space. I am a dog lover and she was a good looking dog, it makes me sick to imagine how stressful her final hours must have been. What I don’t get, even if you suspend all ethics, is why you would send a dog into space in such a way that you had no hope of studying the effects of the voyage upon it? Why include any organism, destined only to burn up?
The USA, USSR, France and Argentina also tortured several kinds of monkeys over the years in the name of their space programs. It seems doubly insulting now that the focus has been greatly reduced on these sorts of projects, expensive though they may be.

Interview about the piece.

It’s an eyebrow thing, not so much her figure, though I just realized she was the schoolgirl in ‘Trainspotting’ so I’m not gonna complain about any part her – a fine actress.
Angelica Huston doesn’t really work for me, and I don’t get why she seems so loved by others. Not in the Wes Anderson stuff, can’t think of anything I’ve seen and liked her in. And maybe it was seeing her do such a similar “crazy but lovable mom” role in ‘Darjeeling Limited’ that made that schtick seem especially tired here. It was like they shot all of the childhood flashback scenes in a single day. Overall the film does seem quickly thrown together, the soundtrack is plain sad (the same lame tune is playing on two different days in the strip club, and if you can’t come up with stripper music in this day and age – either as it is or as it should be – you really are lost), but there are some laughs. My review in one word: meh…

So the first step is research – see what things go for. It is interesting to note that everything up until ‘82 is considered “Bronze Age”. So take that geezer. But I’m really not complaining. I also have some “Silver Age” titles as well. Then comes the strategic game of pricing and seeing how the bidders react. The best case, of course, is to get a bidding war going, and watch your sale go up and up. But it’s difficult to list something for 99 cents to get those initial nibbles, when you saw the same title just sell for $20. But I’ve had plenty of listings expire with no interest at all, so one wants to list low and get at least two buyers drooling. A high price is useless if no one bids. Then comes the building of multi-book “lots” to gain attention. Offer a gem or two and make them take some lemons in the mix. Of course, one geek’s gem is another geek’s lemon. Then there is the professional grading system, but I’m not obsessing on that too much, just trying to be honest in my descriptions.
And finally, as I attempt to widdle three long boxes down to one of keepers and some paypal cash, there is the challenge of my own changing taste. Much of this stuff was someone else’s collection and I have no attachment to certain titles, but now suddenly, a huge run of early Dr. Strange does seems cool. Maybe I should keep these early 70’s Conans when he meets up with Elric… What’s wrong with Werewolf by Night? And hell, if I unload these Ms. Marvel and Captain America’s (squares) I could even buy the issues I’m missing for a complete run… So you see: Overstreet is just as complicated as Wall Street.

You make Reagan look good, you bumbling fool…

The music seems sadly dated already, but if modern Eastern Europe is mysterious enough – Eastern Europe of the future is a shoe in. There is another trailer for Technotise: Edit and I at the Twitch site.

He was so much more pro in the Inside Edition days, before he fell to the level syndicated by FOXNews.

An homage to some of the hottest women I’ve photographed at the convention ‘05-’08. Nerds gone wild!

I just can’t stop imagining riding around the lusher parts of the Forbidden Zone, mounted on the same black horse as she, The Association’s ‘Never my Love’ somehow always playing in the background, until we are eventually captured and dissected, perhaps used for target practice. OK, she can’t speak, but she looks great in dog tags, or munching pilfered fruit.

Yes, of course it’s pathetic – but that’s what aging fanboys do. Not to mention, I heard she only dates astronauts…
Also, silly ape pep rally set to Queen courtesy of Blancotron industries.

Did I go to this film just to see Scarlett Johansson and Penelope Cruz make out? Well maybe…but I wasn’t disappointed on any other level. It’s like an older Woody Allen film in a lot of ways: a concise and simple story, perhaps lighter on the jokes (one liners) than you may be used to. And I think having someone else, in this case Christopher Evan Welch, do the narration voice was a wise choice.

It’s pretty much what the trailer appears to be, no surprises. But in keeping with his one or two films a year work ethic, it’s a goodie, when so many throw aways have crept into the rotation. It will make you want to travel in Spain, “hook up” European style, and maybe long for a day when film making was about telling a story and exploring passion rather than the variations of over the top spectacle.

Also, Woody’s hilarious fictional diary from the shoot from 8-24-08 NYT. Link may not last long…

Part Two

He would have been 88 today. Who’s drunk right now?

Some poems:
death

the sex fiends

From “Poems and Insults”, recorded in the City Lights Poets Lights Theatre, SF 9-14-73
Here’s the entire show, if you want it…

Maybe it’s just the mustache…

I’ve always had an irrational hatred of Bob Costas, but am feeling him here-

It couldn’t have been easy being that bald in the 70’s. But the chain jacket helps…
And Jesse Jackson definitely needs to go back to his old look!

I’ve got to hand it to ya China, I was impressed by the opening ceremony! Photos from Boston Globe. Never mind you used the mind of director Zhang Yimou, who The Party had earlier banned the work of for seeming critical. I’ve enjoyed at least six of his films myself, and we won’t call this egg on your face (no pun). My country loves to first persecute, then later revere, it’s artists as well.

Consider me “visually stunned”…

Now you just try to tell me pole dancing isn’t an art form! Almost makes a free range Hog type reconsider the institution of marriage…

But then of course, it’s all about the woman, not the institution.

My bet is Vince Weiguang Li has advanced stage syphilis, but that’s just an intuitive hunch.

there will be 2 or 3 NYC episodes total.

So over dinner with some friends the other night (ahem) I became aware of this Japanese man who “got away” with murder and cannibalism in Paris during the 80’s. Issei Sagawa’s is a fascinating case, not only because he wrote about the experience, including a children’s book, but he also went on to star in a Roman Pinky (porn) film. There is a breakdown of those Parisian events and some background on Mr. Sagawa here, but none of this is to be confused with garden variety nyotiamori, which is not eating a woman, just eating off of a woman. Well I guess there is the other kind, eating the fake woman…

Bio

Yumiko’s first ever drawing, at the age of four, featured a hyena devouring a zebra, while a vulture looked on. Her obsession with wild animals hasn’t abated – her Infectious Car Art is populated by pandas, octopi and tropical fish – but her style has certainly developed. These days, Yumi’s animals share the spotlight with her pretty and punky Japanese girls, intertwined with traditional Japanese imagery and American pop art stylings. Yumi’s art has hung on museum walls around the world, and is collected by celebrities and rock and roll legends. But she says “I’d rather my paintings hang next to rock star pin-ups than on museum walls. Ultimately I want to connect with people all over the world on that level.” What better way than on the blank canvas that is your car?

Interview

What’s the name of your Infectious art pieces?
Strawberry Milk, Grip, Impossible and Matching Geeks.

Describe your style in one sentence:
A mix of Japanese tradition and Western pop input, with the natural world intertwined to share the spotlight.

Your beautiful ladies really look like you! Are you drawing yourself over and over again in different scenarios?
I’ve never drawn myself in my work. They are someone else, but all with long black hair and dark eyes like me.

Why do you weave so many animals into your art?
I’m a big animal lover or maybe I should say, I’m an animal fan. Wildlife is the most passionate thing for me. It’s something I always learn from and it opens my eyes. My curiosity for wildlife never ends. It inspires a passion inside me to recreate what I see in my work.

What animal do you find most fascinating and why?
I have much love for predators, especially wolves and tigers. They are being hunted and I paint them because I have a passion to share their plight.

Who are your heroes and what are your inspirations?
My heroes are action stars Hiroyuki Sanada and Tony Jaa and Mirco Crocop, a martial artist. My inspirations are music, movies, old yakuza films, manga, American cartoons (Tom & Jerry, Disney), martial arts and wildlife.

Has the slightly erotic nature of your art – the bondage, the cosplay -ever got you in trouble?
That has been an unintentional aspect of my work that others have brought to my attention. It’s never gotten me in trouble, but I’ve always been thoroughly amazed by what some people see in my work. I don’t know what to say…

You’ve painted girls wearing Van Halen colored white, red and black dresses and have titles of paintings like (The Scorpions) “Rock You Like a Hurricane” – do you harbor (a not so) secret passion for hard rock hair bands?
Those guys are my heroes! I’m happy to be the one female artist that I know about who brings on the hard rock.

Could you describe your typical day?
I wake up at 5:30am, have breakfast, exercise, etc. I start painting at 7:30. Lunch is at 12:00. I go back to painting at 1:00 until dinner at 8:00. After I eat, I paint a little more for as long as I can. I’m in bed at 11:00.

Can you describe your process in creating a piece of art?
First, I make a sketch on a thin paper. Second, I trace it on canvas or wood board. Third, I paint with acrylic using a paint brush. Last, I draw in small details like animal hair with a drawing pen.

What was your last memorable dream?
I was Michael Scofield from “Prison Break”, captured in an office room by some bad guys. I fought with them to escape. Then I ran to a train station and jumped onto a moving train.

If you had to draw yourself a tattoo design what would it be and where would you have it?
I would get a tattoo of my cat Teddo who I had for ten years. We were like mother and daughter until she died from cancer. I would probably get her on an arm.

Would you mind telling us something about you that makes you blush slightly?
I feel a little embarrassed when I have a misunderstanding with English. I’m still learning so it can be difficult at times.

Are there any interesting projects coming up that you can share with us?
I’ll have some merchandise available soon and I’ll also be in some art books.

car decals from Infectious

myspace

and her personal site

special thanx to Laura for taking such good care of us!

It is great, but it’s not as dark as some are playing up. No sexual violence for example, no sex at all really. And there was one helicopter crash that was lame CG in my opinion, but it’s pretty great for a main stream film. Cool sound design. Ledger does a great Joker, but I predict he’s already won the Academy award due to his demise, and I’m not sure it’s THAT great.
And I’ll probably never go see at film at Atlantic Station again-

Somni 451 still lives!

Stay strong, sister! Viva Las Angelas del Diablo!

“Ah…Lila….”(drool, dribble, drool)

Oh but NYC tried to hold on to us! Passed from one benevolent matron to the next as our bankroll yo yo-ed and we puttered between Brooklyn and the lower East Side, chasing after Parisians, Athens girls, lipstick tornado bar tenders, and other hotties. Fantastic guest spot at Daredevill, thanx Michelle! Got to catch up briefly with Dylan and Rudyard Lee. Not using my best story form here I realize but I’m still in recovery. The roadshow will definitely be returning to the City.

Just got our first on the fly guest spot from Wizards World of Tattoos I just outside of Pottstown, PA, which makes “the fixer” feel much better about our budget before we roll on to Bogata, NJ and The Apple. Can’t have too much $ around there…

Thanx Joe!

Also check out Brian’s flash.

I’m not in it, wasn’t at the shoot, but this is the first where I helped with post production.

Also music by Don Chambers, and teenage girls!

This morning I was in a dirty ‘73 Maverick riding down a state highway in southern Pennsylvania after an insanely long all-nighter and compounded sleep deprivation when I spied an amazing bookstore in a barn built in 1821. We pulled over and I went in with the camera to get some footage. It was about 10:30 in the morning. I walked in and there were two nicely dressed gentlemen, one seated in a rocking chair, the other standing, surrounded by stacks, in fact 5 stories, of antiquarian volumes. His first words were,
“Welcome! Are you camping?”
Perhaps it was paranoia induced by my lack of sleep, or his general quaffed appearance, but I misunderstood where he was coming from and launched into a neurotic cautious schpeal.
“Well…we are camping some on this trip…but you see, some friends and I used to own a bookstore…and I’m working on this crazy project with this other friend of mine now…and we’re driving around the country visiting tattoo shops…and like, bookstores because this place seems so amazing, that I was just wondering if it would be OK if I walked around a second with my camera…and the benefit to you might be…”
“Young man”, said Tom politely to silence me. “I’m trying to ask if you’d like to camp out in the six acre yard there.”
And then the top of my head came off and a huge wave of universal positivity flooded my weary, corrupted and cynical soul.

We’ll be staying here for a while.

“Now don’t be put off when you meet my friend gentlemen, he has some tattoos…”

So you get part of a narrative poem:

Four day late pick up, insomnia kicks in.
Finally the call,
and when a moped has been repo-ed from a crackhead who wouldn’t pay,
I momentarily consider taking that with the money I have rather than to get on board.
But I must get on board – Sancho Panza can’t let Don Quixote roam alone…
in fact he bankrolls the first leg, because the nest egg is in Myrtle Beach.
DQ lost the cell phone two weeks ago, so lots of contact #’s are gone, and the car does not have wifi (part of my tardy reports)

Up to the mountains, loose ends to tie up:
portraits on a Cherokee man and the cop Garcia clone from Reno 911
beers and industrial strength lortab ride on to Helen,
sell the van and now the egg is 900
but must get mamas ring out of hawk,
and fees to pay on the storage space – both monetary and emotional.
More drinking with Scuba and a final “fuck you” toast to the locals in Bavaria.
Dropped $40 on shots for strange and the princess bitch bartender, daughter of Frenchy.

I am the money man, the fixer, I carry the roll.

He’s so psyched just to hit the SC line, clearly not picturing the entire thing accurately,
but then, neither am I.
Visit and shoot a shop in Anderson
“Fuck it dude, let’s just plow on to Myrtle Bch tonight”
“Yeah. Let’s ride”
a semi bungled short cut through the state roads
but all is mirth and potential.
Steve awaits us, steve who has lined up the party
16 wanting ink
our next, very needed bankroll
I talk with Steve and we will call him a half hour from town.
But we linger and shoot footage
and eat
and the bad short cut
and It’s after midnight by the time we hit the beach.
Next time, Steve don’t answer
but we pull an all-nighter
And the strip is empty and ours at night
Dennys and Lobster van and a scratchy eye that might need tending to if the $ ever comes,
keeping the car safe, watching the sun rise over the ocean.

And then the sun is well high
as I cover my dosing patron with a beach umbrella and my mind unravels
and fucko Steve still has yet to call.
In search of an address he gave
which the GPS seems not to know.
All the hotels want three days commitments for too much, “weekend” bullshit.

Something might be wrong

(more soon)

Bo Diddley

Even if Ray had been intentionally making a symbolic show of support for the Palestinian cause, would this have been a support of terrorism? What would have happened had she appeared wearing a scarf depicting the Israeli flag?

In the above link, be sure to note under “controversial symbol” how Urban Outfitters last year quit carrying the garment after pressure from pro-Israeli lobbyists. I challenge you to think about the following: is it possible to be anti-Zionist without being anti-semitic? I say the answer is yes, just as it is possible to be an American patriot while opposing American imperialism.

God doesn’t hand out countries or play racial favorites.

A tattoo artist sells his shop, gets camera, computer, ink guns and sterilization equipment, loads them into a ‘73 Maverick and sets out on the road, filming the entire thing in hopes of getting sponsorship for continuing funds for the operation. Sure, his style is a little “home spun” and some of the antics border on slapstick, but I’d argue this venture is also extremely DIY, and even a bit punk rock.

Follow later episodes through his youtube page (there are 11 as of now). Don’t just stop at one, seriously.

I especially love that he’s gone back to a variation on what he and brother Watson (Twins of Pain) were doing when I first met them 15 years ago. I’ll never forget when they showed up in Athens in that school bus with the rest of the entourage, leaving behind Indiana, where at the time tattooing “on the fly” was considered ‘practicing medicine without a license’, and carried rather stiff penalties, as you might imagine. They made such a lasting impression – not only in our hearts, but also on our skins. I don’t want to give up too many stories now, since I’m actively pursuing an interview for the podcast in the very near future. And if I’m lucky, might even do some time and miles with ol’ One Eye Willie myself.

Er, maybe I should rephrase that…

I’ve only recently discovered this pop psychedelic creation of Guy Peellaert, and haven’t seen any of the actual comics yet. (great, another expensive hobby no one needs: collecting vintage European comics…) And sadly, I sense none will add up to be as cool as this animated sequence, a slow load but well worth it! I especially love the lampoon of the three major western religions included.

So doing a bit of hack research, I see that Judy Strangis was also a child actor in a ‘63 episode of the Twilight Zone, The Bard, which happened to feature a young Burt Reynolds. A television actress, as she grew up, she appeared in episodes of many classic shows of the day: Room 222, Love American Style, The Mod Squad, a few years later the A-team, though she seems to have retired in the 90’s.

Well I’ve been getting into wood crafty shit: some signs for friends, plastering the back with hilarious old newspapers I found in a house during a recent restoration. The dragonheads are from an older project 2-3 years ago. I’ve gone twice now to sell at Big City Bread with my friend’s Chris and Lou. But next week the entire operation moves to Bishop Park in conjunction with an outdoor farmers market.

I’m a huge fan of this little bar, which is a fine place to catch a film or play a poker tournament in the room on the right hand side. There is of course music going on most nights over there as well, but seldom an evening as well booked as last night. Madeline did some new material with horns, and one man band Geoff Reacher is back in his old Athens haunt for a few nights. Here’s a little home brewed video from “Look me in the Eye”.

*Warning: if the title of this post isn’t clear enough, links may contain adult themes and material*

You’ve heard about this phenomenon right? Young women who choose to “save themselves” for the right guy, but meanwhile have nothing against a good time in the realm of sodomy. I certainly can’t claim to be against it, but it strikes me as unusual, so against the grain of behavior most women consider to be acceptable. Sometimes, as in the case of Aurora Jolie AKA Nicara, this crosses over into the world of porn. She tells the story herself in this interview. “But what about slightly fat nerdy white guys, A?”

In my, ahem, “research” for this post, I also came across the all American man and wife, which is amusing, though the call from the guy who breaks down after giving up the brown eye to his girl in ep. 36 is clearly fake. But Fatman’s response, while cliche, is hilarious.

Sundance channel is running this film and I caught it over the weekend. I can’t recall exactly where I first heard about Punishment Park (1971), but it was fairly recently, and considering the controversy, was surprised to get a chance to see it. Overall as a film, I must say, it’s not all that. But as I’m obsessed with that period in American history, it was something I had to see. Watkins was by chance ahead of the curve in terms of what reality TV has become, but the ideological back and forth between the radicals and tribunal comes off as overstated and cliche, the yelling between the camera crew and cops rather unrealistic (why wouldn’t fascists destroy the equipment and confiscate the footage?), and the “ironic hook” at the end can be seen from a mile off – or more accurately, 50 miles off.
But there is enough substance to keep this from being a “b movie”, despite it’s vague similarity to films of the era like Deathrace 2000, which came out 4 years later, and to be fair, is much more of a fantasy. In some ways, it falls into a dystopian genre with Children of Men, at least in terms of paranoia when viewing The State. Certainly a lot accomplished with a small budget. I’m always interested in films that for one reason or another are pushed off the radar, and now definitely curious to see more of Peter Watkins work.
As a time capsule, two things that are interesting are to look at how relatively naked “the pigs” are when compared with the modern day forces of control. And I couldn’t help but imagine a parody of this film, where various 19-27 year olds are lined to face “the tribunal” in the modern day – how timid they might seem in comparison…”you mean like, no Starbucks OR videogames?!? Dude…” But that’s unfair of course: more accurately the accused, if in fact youths from rejected bourgeoisie backgrounds, would be anti-G8 eco-terror types, and the virile minority man gagged and pinned to the floor would have a lighter skin tone and be talking a more religious jive. There would also be a lot more talk about The Patriot Act than the Constitution, and hopefully that realization sends a bit of a chill down your spine…

creston and tanner

evil creston

Had a double dose of Athens greats Harvey Milk recently, once there over the past weekend and last night in ATL @ Drunken Unicorn. Overall I must prefer the first show, though this is a minority opinion due to their more drunken state at the Caledonia Lounge. But it was when Tanner came out with the gem that became this entry’s title. But I’m definitely glad I didn’t miss the brief “Pleaser” material the second night. The Thrones Joe Preston was a welcome addition both nights on additional vocals and second guitar.

Click image for larger. There is no funky photoshop filter at play to make Creston look like a Siekiewicz drawn goat-creature in that second one, just random bad lo light photography, but using the approved MUS “2 handed” method…

Portland, OR (February 11, 2008) – On a February night in 1956, Allen Ginsberg stood in front of a group of students in a dormitory lounge at Reed College and read from a manuscript that a few months later would be published as Howl and Other Poems. “Howl” is Ginsberg’s most famous and controversial poem, and a seminal work of the Beat Generation. The book sparked censorship debates that are credited with broadening First Amendment protections.

The February 1956 recording at Reed was duly labeled, cataloged, and then overlooked in the college’s library for more than 50 years. Literary scholar John Suiter rediscovered the tape last summer while researching a biography of poet Gary Snyder (Reed Class of 1951, winner of the 1975 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry); Snyder and Ginsberg were on a hitch-hiking trip to the Pacific Northwest at the time the tape was made and spent February 13-14 on campus giving poetry readings. Suiter concludes in a forthcoming article in the Reed alumni magazine that this is the earliest-known recording of Ginsberg reading “Howl.” On the recording, Ginsberg reads to the conclusion of Part I, but ends before completing Part II, saying, “I don’t really feel like reading any more. I just sorta’ haven’t got any kind of steam.”

The pristine recording of “Howl” caught on tape that night at Reed differs in numerous ways from the legendary first public reading of the poem at San Francisco’s Six Gallery in October 1955. It predates by approximately five weeks the previous earliest-known recording of “Howl,” made at the Town Hall Theatre in Berkeley on March 18, 1956.

And the recording. It’s strange to me when these things are discovered after half a century: unknown sketches from great painters, previously unheard demos from famous rock bands etc. hidden and decaying in “archives”. But then I’m someone often with too much time on his hands who would relish access to certain caches.

Automobiles are statistically far more dangerous of course, and while I’ve never experienced anything too scary in the air, it isn’t hard to get me white knuckled or queesy with common bumps and dips. Somehow in a car wreck I feel like I might have a chance – that is, manipulate my body in some way to minimize injury. It’s an illusion of course, but to be in a cylinder falling out of the sky, ever faster, subjected to your fellow sardines shrieks and panic…I don’t think I could handle that. But I think my “fear of flying” is actually rooted in a fear of sharks. Somehow you realize you’ve survived the impact, maybe some broken limbs, clinging to some flotilla in the frigid ocean and fuel burn off dancing on savage waves, only to realize the uber-efficient predators will find you before the rescue party does-

I’ll still take taunting the Christmas Day Tiger, thank you…

I have nothing against the idea of a vegan strip club like the one recently opened in Portland, OR, it just sort of cracks me up. As does this quote from the young woman in the article-

” I can’t stand the smell of smoldering rotting carcasses when I walk by the kitchen. It is totally gross. I’ve been a vegan for three and a half years and I can’t stand the thought of working in a place that serves murder victims on a bun. Working at a club like Casa Diablo Gentlemen’s Club is my dream!”

If you’re ever out that way to check it out for yourself, be sure to stop in to the USDAT+A Acropolis mentioned in the comment section as well.

So you’ve heard about all of the snow related travel chaos in China, intensified because it is their New Year, or Spring Festival. I have friends now in Beijing, north of the main commotion and not directly effected. This video shows how they do up the fireworks over there, but unfortunately loads slowly. Out with the Pig and in with the Rat! If Beijing strikes you as huge, remember you are seeing only one part of one district. The blasts are little more powdery and raw. And where can I get some of those “flail sparklers”?

It’s the anniversary of when Patty Hearst was kidnapped by the Symbionese Liberation Army and was thus able to live out the bad girl fantasy of bank robbery, only do 22 months for the crime and later receive a full pardon. Hurray for rich kids… why shouldn’t they have it all? Still, it’s more twisted and exciting than anything Paris ever did- This doc is good too.

A Mystical Prickle/ Space Talk Lyricism/ Misty Space Call/
Slimy Space Rack/ Kill My Space Racist/ Risky Space Cat/
Space Mail Trick/ Space Liar Cyst Milk/ My Slick Space Trail/
Slim Space Lark City/ Space Ark City Mill/ Icy Space Mall Skirt/
My Salty Space Lick/ Space Ram Kill City/ Space Arm Lily Trick/
Space Ram City Skill/ Space Army Licks It/ Icky Space Tsar/
Space Satyr Licks ‘im/ Slimy Space Rat/ Slick Space Art/
My Space Rack Till/ Track My Space/ My Sick Space Art/
Kill Creamy Spastic/ Slim Pastie Crack/ Kill Pastie Mac/
Typical Mescal Risk/ Lacy Pi Mescal Skirt/ Silk Pity Mescal Arc/
Silky Pit Mescal Car/ Piracy Mescal Talk/ Mescal Pal City/
Sickly Mescal Rap/ Sickly Rat Mescal/ Lily Mist Carp Cake/
Kill A Ecstasy Crimp/ Kill Camera Cyst/ Icy Sarcasm Kill Pet/
Ceramic Spa Kill/ Mass Kill Icecap/ My Icecap Tsar/
Kill My Icecap Rats/ Sitar Spy Kill Mecca/ Mecca Kill Party/
Mecca Kill Rats/ Ram Pity Kill Access/ Acme Kill Satyr/
Acme Crispy Kill/ Kill Racist Mace Spy/ Mace Kill Party/
Kill Spicy Mace Rats/ It’s Spacy Kill Cream!/ Pa City Kill Screams/
Creamy Kill Cat Piss/ Scary Mist Kill Pace/ Mass Recap Kill City/
Yam Carpet Kill/ Mars City Kill/ Icy Kill Aspects/
Mystic Kill Acre Spa/ Kill City Race Spasm/ Spicy Kill Races/
Amp City Kill Caress/ Icy Actress Kill Map/ Kill React Scam/
Car Imp Ecstacy Kill/ Ream Cyst Aspic Kill/ Spastic Ram Kill/
Pastie Kill Cam/ Epic Satyr Kill Cam/ Racy Kill Camp Site/
Airy Sects Kill Camp/ Campy Tsar Kill Ice/ Piracy Kill Scams/
Milk Piracy Castle/ Slick Piracy Metals/ Slack Piracy Melt/
Clam Silk Piracy/ Elks Piracy Cam/ Elk Slit Piracy Scam/
Mall Piracy Sect/ Sick Piracy Alms/ Lick Em Piracy Salts/
Mass Cell Piracy Kit/ Piracy Lick Ass Melt/ Satyr Claim Pickles/
Satyr Lisp Milk/ Satyr Lip Silk Mecca/ Satyr Lace Milk Pics/
Sick Satyr Place/ Slack Satyr Epic/ Slack Satyr Epic/
Satyr Smack Ice Pill/ Calm Satyr Lick Pies/ Silk Satyr Ice Clamp/
Epic Skill Satyr Cam/ Lick Isle Satyr Camp/ Lame Satyr Lick Clip/
Maple Satyr Lick/ Slick Satyr Ice Lamp/ Satyr Lice Map/
Sick Satyr Pie Call/ Mystical Ski Parcel/ Mystical prick Ale/
Slick Mystical Rape/ Mystical Splice Ark/ Mystical Silk Cap/
Milk Cyst Replica/ Sky Clam Replica/ Silt Sky Replica Cam/
A Mecca Kills Stripy/ A Scarce Milky Split/ A Catlike Sly Scrimp/
A Carsick Smelly Pit/ A Classic Perky Milt/ A Metallic Sick Spry/
A Metallic Cry Skips/ A Silk Malice Crypt/ A Campsite Cry Kills/
A Slackers City Limp/ A Caskets Crimp Lily/ A Caskets Lyric Limp/
A Scalpels Icky Trim/ A Callers Sticky Imp/ A Callers Mystic Kip/
A Camel Licks Stripy/ A Camels Tricky Lisp/ A Calmer Sickly Spit/
A Camels Crispy Kilt/ A Mescal Tricky Lisp/ A Calmest Lyric Skip/
A Mac Prick Let Is Sly/ Rack A Spicy Millets/ Track A Slice Simply/
Clip A Smiley Track/ Rack A Systemic Pill/ Stack A Spicy Miller/
Tacky Crime Pills/ Call A Mystic Picker/ A Calm Rye Lipstick/
Clamp A Silkier Cyst/ Sticky Calms Peril/ A Clams Tricky Spiel/
Clap A Tricky Smile/ Scalp A Sickly Timer/ Clasp A Milkier Cyst/
Crystal Lime Pickles/ Trick Plasma Ice/ A Classy Lick Permit/
A Scaly Tickle Prism/ Trick Salsa Mice/ Trick Llama pics/
Trick Llama pics/ Trick Ice Pals/ Trick Salsa Pals/
Trick Malice Spa/ Trick Lace Yams/ Play Mescal Trick/
Slay Trick Places/ Acme Trick Silly Spa/ Mass Trick Pace Lily/
Cape Slay Trick/

A new theory how Bob Pollard gets song titles… Also, possibly a good place to get passwords.

I-mockery presents you with the following list, some I’ve played, some I’ve never even seen. Ah, to have the money, space and patience with continuous repairs to collect such things. Home systems have their advantage, but as a Gen X’er, I’ll always have nostalgia for these big clunkers. I don’t think Galaga made the list, but as a testimonial to it’s longevity, check any laundrymat.

Thanx Jairoo for the bite.

I caught Conan the Barbarian last night on cable and was noticing how hot the character who plays his mom is, and with a little research, wasn’t too surprised to find Nadiuska was in fact an Italian porn star. Actually, most every actress in the film looks like she might have done a little “Blue” work – the Witch, Thulsa Doom’s daughter, Conan’s girlfriend, the various cult and orgy members… It was sort of an interesting era for film: lingering 70’s ethos, lots of “Penthouse soft lense”, a certain European feel to the entire production. Not to mention the general crossover appeal of Italian porn actors-

Take the example of Ilona Staller, AKA Cicciolina, who in ‘79 ran for Italian parliament in their first incarnation of the Green Party, then switching to the Partito Radicale, was actually elected in ‘87. Near the beginning of the first Gulf War she offered to fuck Saddam Hussein to help ease escalating tensions with that conflict. She later made the same offer to both he and Osama Bin Laden for the same reason, but let’s face it, Osama’s a longshot, and not just because of the dialyses…

America is clearly behind the times, though porn stars here do cross over into legit film and pro wrestling. Recently a candidate may have increased her results in a primary by “tearing up” during a press conference, apparently it made her more relatable to some voters… makes you wonder. This is only a jokey insight Mrs. Clinton – please don’t do anything drastic!

Let’s step back for a minute and talk about death in general, not a comfortable topic for mortals, westerners, and particularly Americans. But when you face the fact that we all have “got to go”, I think it morbid logic to consider ways you might prefer to have it happen. And I argue there many worse, less poetic ways to meet your end than they way this guy did. Look at statistics for “average American death”…

Experiencing cancer’s sapping your vitality over the course of months/years vs. an adrenalized tiger assault – true, it is nice to have some time to say your goodbyes and get your affairs in order. But cost wise there is no contest – admission to zoo ticket vs. modern medical expenses times X, insured or not, it’s spendy ya’ll. Plus the “surprise factor”. I guarantee that guy didn’t wake up thinking ‘I might get killed at the zoo today’, and true most young people aren’t conducting their lives in ways conducive to the avoidance of cancer, but the older you get, it can’t help but occur to you at some point your odds against The House. That Big House of Cell Mutation so counter-productive to your current mode of living. True, not everyone selected will be killed by their type of cancer, but it’s an ugly game, and you’re playing, like it or not.

Car accident fatality vs. tiger attack – adrenaline levels might be more comparable here, but in terms of “last moment revelation of irony”, picture that guy lying there viscerated thinking “wow, I was killed by a ferocious animal from the other side of the world in a major urban center – that’s unexpected and sucks”. Then picture yourself after having launched through your windshield into another vehicle and the last thing you see is the backward image of their ‘W – the President’ on the remains of what used to be their back window. Or to realize over the sound of other’s squealing tires, panicked responses, and formerly compressed air escaping from the radiator, tinkling glass shards, whatever else might be going on audio wise, you are also hearing the music another vehicle had on before impact…and it’s a song you always hated, or maybe one you’ve never heard but instantly hate. Your final moments, realizing the animating force is departing your mortal coil, and the chance soundtrack is some saccharine audio schmaltz about sex or bling. OK, that’s too cruel, and odds are the player would be shut off/destroyed during the collision. So the last thing you get to hear are your fellow citizens freaking out and yelling, sounds of irritated traffic and people making the realization they are gonna be “late”. Your body torn apart by steel, fiberglass, and glass shards vs. your body being torn apart by tooth bone and cartalidge claw…Organic – to borrow a popular marketing term. Plus no leaking fuel smell. Tigers almost never explode after incapacitating their victims.

And while they are statistically rare: I think you have to take into account tiger attack vs. other animal attacks. I’d take a tiger over a bear. Shark is just about the worst for me: while many animals have evolutionary advantages against an unarmed, modern human, with a shark it just seems completely cruel in their own habitat. I guess I’d take my chances with a shark out of water, but even then I wouldn’t be too happy about it. Crocodile? To much like the shark: first thing it’s gonna do it try to get you underwater and get his roll on. Dog pack, or single 136kg dog – that would suck as well, because I really like dogs and I’d be giving the fucker commands or trying to bond with it during the attack, definitely making the situation more absurd. Poisonous snakes or insects? Fuck that too. Fight the ‘poison clock’ in addition to the puncture. In general, I think I can safely say I’d rather be killed by a mammal than another species, though trampled by a heard doesn’t seem so keen. Or at least something with a face…imagine trying to swim somewhere relatively safe as you realize your floating in a group of man-o-war.
Tigers are really beautiful and command a certain respect. Just as you can imagine an aged stag giving itself over to a bow hunter, I’m not saying liking it, but on some level appreciating his flight is over…true, preferable for him perhaps to have a lung punctured by a rivals rack, laying there sufficating as he detects some doe’s pheromonal message of “gee, that dude wasn’t SO bad, I might have given him some…oh but girl, you just know I’m fixin to present to that badass that done slayt him…”, but let’s imagine there is some respect for the “order of things”, that a stag who’s been around a few seasons can appreciate when his time has come and a worthy hunter has lain him low.
Maybe it could have been like that in the final moments for the Christmas Zoo patron: ‘obviously death sucks, but I can’t help but admire how beautiful this thing is, right here on top of me, even with all of that crimson of my oxidized blood smeared all over it’s mussel. Look at how her tail whips around like a playful kitten, she’s obviously enjoying this…’

OK, I admit the “romance” is more complete in a jungle (or I guess Siberian forest) than on the concrete of the SF zoo, but I still say there are less “fantastic” ways to go. Quality vs. quantity – is longevity really “all that”?

*paraphrase of NYT’s ‘quote of the day’: The disease is by no means inevitable, but among people 85 and older, about 40 percent develop Alzheimer’s and spend their so-called golden years in a thicket of confusion, ultimately becoming incontinent, mute, bedridden or forced to use a wheelchair and completely dependent on others.

“It makes people wonder whether they really want to live that long,” Dr. Klunk said.

From Japanreview:

-Tokyo is a bleak and joyless place in your books. Is Japan doomed? Or is it a condemnation of suburban life in general? Is there such thing as redemption in this day and age?

I don’t this the situation is cause for despair. Rather, the suburbs are interesting in that human desires are transparent and in the forefront. In case of the suburb where Out was set, the small houses all in row are a product of what people desire. It can be seen as quite typically Japanese. I don’t think there is such thing as “society”. There is that much more freedom in that looseness.

In terms of redemption, the question is, redemption from what? I’m not quite sure what you are referring to, but if you return to the former question, the Japanese rarely recognize the sense of redemption because they lack the concept of the “society.” That’s to say, one doesn’t know how to be redeemed, and what you have to do to accept it, and how and who should accept it.

-What influences your work Japanese literature, western literature—or do you read other mystery writers? Are there any books of this genre you feel strongly about? Or are your influenced by other mediums—TV, movies, music, and news events? What current Japanese writers do you like?

When I was a child, I read magazines indiscriminately and I read a lot of foreign juvenile and children’s fiction—mostly books like Adrift in the Pacific, The Three Musketeers, and Little Women. I think that that they may have influenced the way I tell stories.

I don’t really like mysteries so I don’t read many of them of late. I quite like Patricia Highsmith, among others. As for Japanese authors, I would say Ryu Murakami and Fumiko Hayashi. I also read non-fiction. I love movies, especially Scorsese and Lynch. As for music, I am a fan of seventies soul.

From Metro.co.uk bookclub

The sexual violence in the book is very disturbing – did you ever have any qualms about writing those scenes?

It’s very disturbing to write about violence. However, as long as there is such violence in reality (that’s often beyond our imagination) I feel it is my responsibility as a writer to write about them. It’s unfortunate if anyone is disturbed or feels uncomfortable with these scenes (especially the ending), but I actually wrote the book in an effort to eliminate violence from society.

and Booksense.com

-What reaction surprised you the most?

Men were very shocked that a wife could kill her husband. That was really a provocative idea. Japanese men felt so threatened by it. They also never imagined that a woman could write such an aggressive novel. The most shocking part of Out for a lot of people is that it’s written by a married woman who has a family and a child. If the book was written by a man, people wouldn’t be as surprised, and they’d look at it as fiction. But because a woman wrote it and it’s realistic to a certain degree, people were surprised.

-Your novel and many Japanese films from the last few years depict contemporary Japan as an unsettled society whose outward calm masks an underlying current of severe physical and psychological violence. Is this the case?

The old family system is collapsing more and more. Although the division between men and women remains — men still go out and women still stay in — a man now cannot sustain the entire family. We have reached the point where women have to put the children into childcare so that they can work to help support the family, too. Then, the children themselves are under extreme educational pressure. So everybody is making the best effort to sustain him or herself. It is a very confusing time for our society. I have the feeling that people don’t know what to do to get out of their situations.

-Do you think this is creating a culture of violence?

Some of the violence depicted in the media is a metaphor for frustration, but there are more and more cruel crimes happening — and the people who commit these hideous crimes are getting younger and younger. A few years ago, there were a lot of crimes committed by young women. Now it’s kids murdering people. Japanese adults are completely astounded, and don’t know what to do. That’s the reality that we are getting into, and it is getting worse.

Also, thanks to mll3 for turning me on to this novel in the first place.

I recently caught some nasty adware/worm, possibly win32.netsky, and drove myself nuts downloading various scans and tricks trying to rid myself of the thing. Eventually I just had to try and save what files I could and nuke my OS – a complete reinstall. All is back to normal now, though I have inferior versions of some programs and am having to rebuild my music library, which regrettably didn’t make it.

The worst part of all is that I got this from a Church site! I’ve been having some doubts about my place in the thereafter recently and went shopping for a new church, when my search for the Lord brought me this nasty virtual infection. How am I to know which of the Republican candidate has my best interest at heart if I’m not allowed to research the variations of Christianity?!?

Just kiddin’. I got it from a porn site. Skanky nasty porn gave me a skanky nasty virus. On a drunken quest for more files of this one actress, I was lead astray from my usual “safe” haunts, and when prompted to “download a needed codec”, lust got the better of my good sense, and I let the down the gates and invited the foul worm right in. But at deeper fault was my irreverent attitude about spyware: refusing to be one of those paranoid types, I’ve had what I guess is good luck to go with my cavalier attitude about virus infection all of these years of surfing. But now I’ve learned, twice shy. Don’t let it happen to you!

But it does bring to mind the deeper issues about what on your machine is most important, what you’ll miss most when it isn’t available. You can back it all up, but ultimately, you cant take it with you-

Here’s a link to his myspace page.

So I’m sort of caught up in McCarthy fandom and decided I definitely had to read this novel before I saw the film. I have also been a serious fan of Cohen bros. dramas, as opposed to the comedies. Nothing wrong with their comedic quirkyness, but I would argue if you ask the average viewer to name a one of their films, they’ll give you ‘Raising Arizona’ or ‘OBWT’ before ‘Miller’s Crossing’ or ‘The Man Who Wasn’t There’, which I find disappointing. Anyway, from my first learning of this project, I had a strong inclination I was going to love it, and I essentially did.
Reading some sneak peak reviews, I quickly came across a complaint from blog reviewers who hadn’t read the book and are so weened on common suspense arcs that rely on over-the-top sensationalism to outdo one another: Tarrantino style, if you will. But this isn’t about that. Period. There is a very specific reason I have chosen the title of this post from the films tagline and a very specific reason I have chosen this image. Go watch a Tom Cruise, or Vin Diesel vehicle if you cant handle post modern tweaking of the thriller genre. This film comes from a pulp work from a literary mind. Yes, there is a “kick ass” psycho (and after being so compelled by ‘Before Night Falls’, I sensed Bardem was gonna nail this role – I think the fact that he is also the lead in the current Marquez classic speaks volumes about his power as an actor) and there are even over-the-top nifty devices you’ve never seen in a film before – straight from the mind of C McCarthy. So go see it. In a way it’s like getting to see another Peckinpah film, but much of that had to do with the period and location. Here are my two minor and one major beefs…

Because the locations and authenticity are so dead on, even while reading, I have to admit their authenticity stumped my imagination, despite the fact I can recall images of 1980 (OK, not central and west Texas…) I have to get finiky and picky. 1) I don’t remember the girlfriend mentioning she worked in a WalMart. It sort of struck me as a modern jab, and as a nomad, I don’t have my copy of the book here and now to reference, but a search reveals Walmart did hit Texas in ‘75, so it is plausible. It may very well come straight from the text, as so much of the dialogue does. 2) Having ridden lots of Greyhound buses, I’m doubting that semi-southwestern style with the bold blue through the other colors that still adorns the apolstry of many of the seats now, did so then. Total nitpicking I know, but the authenticity is dead on in every other way – I think it bears mentioning.

And the major thing I didn’t like: the young hitchhiker character is reduced to a poolside beerswiller with only a few lines of dialogue. I think there was a lot of revelation about Lwelyn’s character in those passages with her in the novel, as well as more of McCarthy’s foundation about what overtly changed about (our) culture at that time, which isn’t exactly what I mean to say but – the big picture stuff about society and individual. As the film is a bit long as is, I fully understand why the reduction stood, but I’d argue it also built suspense for the story, even though, as stated, that’s not the point. I further admit, I didn’t picture Lwelyn’s wife to be as attractive as the actress they picked, during my reading. I guess I was strung out then on the sexual suspense as well as violent suspense – i.e. semi-loner guy with a bunch of money has beat the devil once or twice, THEN runs into some hot free ass on the road. What now? And there is no sexual suspense at all in the film.

Other than that, every bit of acting worked or excelled. The Cohen bros. excerted their style without being “cliche Cohen bros”. The bleak beauty of the desert was perfectly captured. The moments of gallows humor blended seemlessly between the styles of novelist and filmakers. Was there even a single bit of music in this film? I can’t even think of a song on a radio right now, much less soundtrack…wait, there is a major instance of music I’m recalling, and it’s comedy. But a sort of “slap in the audience face” comedy: the audience wants to go ‘oh irony, ha, and we could use a laugh’, but as the scene lingers there is sort of a feeling of ‘yeah, this is unusual, but what the fuck is funny about it?’. More defiance of easy expectations-

No animals were harmed, only slightly annoyed, in the making of this film. Make your own through the site!

More on the history of the ol’ Gorilla-Whale.

This year, I have selected Elizabeth Bathory, kook-ass Hungarian noble lady. A sadist who decided the blood of virgins kept her complexion vital and thus chose to bathe in their blood. Her reign of terror is scary enough, but picturing her life ending locked in chambers of her own castle isn’t very pleasant either. I eagerly seek the ‘Bathory’ film which may have recently come out. It’s quite a tale, surprising more films haven’t been made before now. Larger version of the image above here.

I caught this great flick on IFC last night, and then was stunned to realize the main actor was the writer and director as well. Thus was my introduction to Larry Fessenden, and now I’m curious to learn more of his work. ‘Habit’, made over a decade ago, had some moments when the supporters acting sort of thinned and the script was a bit pedantic, surely there was more they would have loved to do with a larger effects budget – but overall, I think this is what Indie Film is supposed to be. I really liked the subtle approach to what the film turned out to be, a complexity of issues inferred by the title, and found the entire premise more plausible than some reviewers seemed to, but that might be more of a reflection on my lifestyle… Here’s and IFC interview where he’s discussing another project.

At the end of a day of painting trim and high altitude antics on the ladder, I wanted some beer. There are several little markets here and about, but the only one selling what I wanted is down by the stadium and some unimpressive row apartments. I headed on down, exchanging greetings with older porch folk. The closer I got to the store, the sketchier the neighborhood got. Two blocks from the store there were three guys working a corner. It’s just gotten a bit cold and they had huge bulky jackets on, all in their mid-20’s, tall and I must say, looking rather thuggish. But it was still daylight and I plodded on warily, right through the middle of their conversation. One even gave me a “what’s up?”, his voice thick with chemical of unknown origin.
Heading back, I considered choosing another street, but the alternates are actually worse, and after all I was less than a dozen blocks from the house. Now the group of three had grown to several. I just plodded on right through the middle, feeling about a foot shorter than everyone else. One guy asked me for a beer, “Naw man”, I just kept on walking. There was another group of youths coming toward them, one limping along on crutches. Crutchman said something amusing about me to his fellows, but I honestly couldn’t understand him, other than the spontaneous nickname he had granted me, which was Mario. Shittalking was as bad as the walking of that gauntlet got. I was disappointed this second group of guys felt they had to say something, but I wasn’t in much of a position to do anything about it. Behind me, I heard an animated exchange with the first group, but it was hard to read if it was actual hostility or more shittalking. I didn’t cower and I didn’t linger: just a working man getting his sixpack, kept on moving.

There’s a full moon tomorrow night. I can hear people out there yelling at, and calling to one another in the autumnal chill. Sirens come and go in the distance. I’m in here with my little dog, and a good book, and four more beers…

I had a “what ever happened to” moment with this distinctive comic artist recently. I was a fan of ‘Stray Toasters‘ in the 80’s, apparently there has been some work on a film project – not sure how I feel about that, but I guess this would be the era in which to do it. If it does happen, hopefully they will keep it nice and dark. His main site. He’s also been working with Roger Waters, which is one of those “surprising, but not” discoveries…

*ed note: 8/08 Iceblog dropped from blogroll until such time that reports might resume from down under. Just trying to keep the blogroll with as fresh of stuff as possible*

From The Desk of Attorney Matthew Spencer.

My DearFriend,

I am Attorney Matthew Spencer a personal attorney to my late client (Mr.Ladonna) who is a nationality of your country unfortunately died on Terrorist Bomb blast attack on the 7th July 2005. Since the death of my late client, I as his personal attorney have made several enquiries to locate any of his relations for the inheritance claim without any success. I came across your name and contact on the course of my personal search for my late client relations/next of kin. so I decided to contact you for assisting in securing the wealth left behind in a fixed deposit account by my late client before it get confiscated or declared unserviceable by the bank where my late client operates an account since the board of Directors of the bank has issued me a notice that after 2 months from now and no relation shown up for the claiming of the said funds, the funds will be confiscated and declared unserviceable.

Since the board of Directors of the bank have been unsuccessful in locating my client relatives for some time now, it’s on this note that I seek your consent to present you as the relation to my late client, so that the process of this deposit to be released into your account. The amount deposited is $12.8 Million Dollars also I believe With your assistance to get the release of the ($12,800,000.00 ) I will agree to give you 50% of the fund while 50% will be for me. I guarantee you that this transaction will be executed under a legitimate arrangement which will protect you from any breach of the law.

I will be looking forward to your indication of interest so that we can proceed with the process of claiming the funds with the below information I will like you send to me:-

1, YOUR FULL NAME.
2, YOUR CONTACT MOBILE TELEPHONE AND HOME NUMBER FOR EASY COMMUNICATION.
3, YOUR FULL CONTACT HOME ADDRESS.
4, YOUR AGE.
5, YOUR OCCUPERTION.

As soon as I receive all these information from you I will start the process of all the legal approval documents with the above information you will send to me and present you to the Directors of the bank as the relation/next of kin to my late client since they asked that I should provide the relation/next of kin for them to release the inheritance fund to the person. Please acknowledge the receipt of this mail with all the above requested information.

PLEASE REPLY URGENTLY SO THAT WE CAN START THE TRANSACTION IMMEDIATELY.

Yours sincerely,
Attorney Matthew Spencer.

Nationality of my country? Well no wonder I should get half of that dough! What will be for you, valiant Attorney Mathew Spencer, is a special compartment of hell-

So like everyone who’s tuned into what’s going on with this crazy ol’ earth beyond the red, white and blue borders of celebrity, sport, talent shows and farces; I’ve been following, as best anyone not there can, the situation in Burma. Such bizarre repression that still holds on to some cultural traditions that seem counter to it’s fascistic cause. The dynamic of the monks. First of all, I can’t completely wrap my head around monks getting political, but rarely it happens. The dramatic example of Thich Quang Duc comes to mind, but that can be seen as a statement of “this war is so absurd and senseless, and I’m not in the least bit attached to this shit anyway, so I’m gonna go out in a flaming protest”. But it’s different with these Burmese monks. By refusing alms they made the junta look bad and gave people faith. And as screwy and twisted as the junta dudes are: they couldn’t just shoot down the monks in front of everyone. Mao had no problem sending the red army into Tibet, sending the Dali Lama into exile, destroying monasteries, forcing male and female monks to copulate at gunpoint – total “we will crush your religion and spirit” tactics. But the Burma military types don’t even steal the gold off the pagodas. It’s as if they still believe, or at least can’t go all the way with atheism and selfish raw power – but surely they know they’re fuckin’ up. Perhaps they believe they hold enough power for the next several rounds of the wheel as well.

One angle you don’t hear being played up much is Burma is very much part of the Golden Triangle, which means opium, which means lots of money. When you hear Junta – think warlord. And just like there are warlords in Thailand, Vietnam and Laos, Afghanistan off to the west, the difference here is these warlords ARE the govt. so don’t even have to pretend to play the “drug war” game. Total “Jibot” from ‘Supercop’, the cliche generals with the sunglasses waiting for Jackie Chan and Michelle Yeoh to bust in on their meeting hut.
On the other hand, there is a ‘time capsule’ element to their misguided stranglehold of power that is strangely appealing. They don’t represent some Kim Jong-il supervillian with an itchy trigger finger, who can’t wait to annex territories they feel were wrongly divided and start attacking neighbors. One wonders exactly what their power mad dreams entail: building more secret cities in the jungle and polishing their medals and sunglasses? Don’t they even have Kim Jong Il “short man’s common sense” and want to nail Swedish ho’s? Maybe they’re all strung out – think about it, it would explain much of the slowed response time and ‘logic’ behind their moves. Certainly alcohol, sleep deprivation and god knows what pharmaceuticals play a large role in the decision making processes of western leaders, not to mention the perceived guidance of Magic Toughguy Jesus for some…

I don’t mean to make lite of the situation over there though: certainly dozens if not hundreds are being killed and tortured right now as a result of events of last week. It just seems so strange how things seem to work there: the people have elected Aung San Suu Kyi – well, just keep her under house arrest. The monks are marching with the people in the streets – well, raid the monestaries at night, scare the shit out of the monks, then we can shoot into the crowds with a clear conscience. The world is watching and judging our rule – well, just turn off all the phones and the internet, seal up the borders tighter. How much longer into the future will govts. be able to get away with that one? Though as history has shown, and continues to: just because horrible things are known to be happening in the world, it doesn’t mean the rich “free” people are really gonna get off their asses and do anything. And even if they do -the myth of “democracy” sometimes only equals removing your dictator so you can get on with the clan war you’ve been stewing up for centuries…

I finally got around to seeing the latest Cronenberg over the weekend. It’s OK, solid, much what you’d expect – perhaps a little more conventionally “human” than some of his other work. Here’s a great interview from Greencine. Viggo and David seem like interesting guys to hang out with-

I saw that book on Russian prison tattoos earlier this summer in Powell’s Pearl Room but didn’t pick it up for what would have been a serendipitous read. What’s next: Asia Argento and Monica Bellucci to act out bits from my favorite ‘Penthouse Letters’? Wait a minute, I’ll be right back…

Oh and by the way, everyone: you will die some day. Your “beautiful” shell and all the modifications you paid to have done to it will all become maggot food. Fight and fear this fact all you want to, but it won’t change…

Feeling old? Well that’s because you are-

Meet Victor Licata, one of HJ Anslinger’s main case studies when he fought to demonize ganja in the USA in the 30’s. Licata confessed to smoking pot in Tampa, FL before murdering his family. But even an amateur’s glance at his mugshot makes one wonder if there might have been other things going on in ol’ Vic’s noggin. Nevertheless, marijuana was demonized for decades, some even think it’s “bad news” today. The thing is: ax murdering didn’t stop even with it’s criminalization. Sure – botanists were handed huge jail terms, billions in potential tax revenues have gone uncollected, untold cookies have been consumed and snooze buttons haphazardly pushed…but every once and a while, an ax murderer crops up. And the weirdest part of all – some of them haven’t been holdin’ “the devil’s weed”.
Now one thing I definitely don’t want to do here is give you the impression that laws are made and broken on the political whims of a few powerful persons – because there are actually much larger lobbies at work behind the scenes, deciding what your lives will and won’t consist of, at least ‘above board’. Sleep tight-

If McKinley seems less remembered than Lincoln or Kennedy, it may be because he wasn’t as dynamic an individual. I was tempted to use the word charismatic just then, but Lincoln suffered from depression, by all accounts was a somber chap, though obviously a noble and brilliant orator. Perhaps a chance to fuck Marylin Monroe would have put a smile on his face as well… Anyway, it was also a week after the shooting before McKinley succumbed to his wounds. And into office came Theodore Roosevelt, a more macho and bold leader – the type Americans love to remember.
As for lessons to be learned from troubled Leon: proof that no matter how inconceivable it may seem, within two months of moving to a new town, you could be cooking in the electric chair. And never underestimate the hateful mob – his corpse wasn’t allowed to leave the prison grounds and was mutilated with chemicals during the burial. Most importantly of all: dashing acts of violence almost never result in positive societal change!

On this day 80 years ago, two Italian immigrants were executed by the state of Massachusettes for their alleged involvement in theft and murder. Many believe the case was actually about anti-immigrant and anti-anarchist sentiments in the community. Ancient history, right?
Additional thanx to the late Kurt Vonnegut JR. for first turning me on to these events through his novel Jailbird.

The good news is: common sense did prevail enough to be sure another artistic landmark was preseved. Back in the late 40’s, Greek railroadman Tom E. Stefopoulos drew these great chalk drawing on the concrete columns that supported the viaduct during his spare moments working as a switchman. The columns were saved and now sit half a block north of NW Everett and 10th in front of some flash condo building. True, what you see are large photo reproductions encased in plexi of the actual drawing that lie beneath, but in the name of preservation, this was most likely the best route to go. You can see some more of my personal shots of the columns in their new home here. Also, for cultish fans of the film, an exploration of “hats on beds” that ties into a C. McCarthy novel.

Tell me you heard about the recent discovery in the D.F. of the exciting Aztec tomb. Not only does it turn out to be possibly the first time the burial chamber of an Aztec ruler has been discovered, but it also might be the great Ahuizotl’s, oh be still my beating heart (…jk)! It was the monolith with the image of Tlaltecuhtli that tipped them off. Why can’t I find a woman like that?

AND through the sparkplugcomics site, I just learned I’ll be town during the PDX zine symposium! Looks like I’ll skip going to Seattle Meltdown with the MarchingBand…

Charles Simic has risen to the occasion, which hopefully inspires you to check some of his stuff, if you are not already familiar. I recommend Eyes Fastened with Pins as a starter. Snooping around a bit, it’s not hard to find examples where he himself is reading. Here is also an interview.
The great thing about Poet Laureates as opposed to other national leaders is they don’t have to lie about blowjobs or weapons of mass destruction. Were they to start wars, they would certainly have lower death tolls and be far less expensive-

A bit of music, some reading, long walks, fireside talks – though after compounding sleep deprivation, alcohol, heavy sun and all the rest… my wound up neurotic shpeal wasn’t so appreciated by some of the more ‘mellow’ among us. But fuck ‘em: eventually I WILL prove the existence of God (apart from any religion) through passionate, nonsensical, never-ending argument. Anyway, these are the days. This is very much part of what it’s all about-

So a bit later I headed out to go to a Willamette Week party, that is mooch their free grog and grub, as my boy Trevor was an employee and invited me. But heading to the train it was obvious something was definitely going down: cops blocking off sections of major roads and rush hour traffic frustrated, chaotic and trying to figure new routes through the spontaneous maze. As I waited, I could tell the main area they had blocked off, but it was hard to see all those blocks away, figure out what had happened. ‘It’s quite windy, maybe a limb or sign came down.’ I speculated with fellow passengers but no one seemed to have solid answers. I went on to the shindig, ran into an old friend from like 1st grade(!) and generally forgot about it, until it occured to me to look for info later that night/morning.
Turns out these three numbnut boyz decided to rob a liquor store and had set off a highspeed chase and ensuing manhunt trying to escape. The funniest part to me is I’ve been noticing/complaining about all of the scummy white people you find out here. Now this is straight up elietism I’m talking (and true, I’m no ‘Brad Pitt crossed with MENSA’ myself), but when it’s about your own race I think it’s acceptable. Coming from the south, obviously I am familiar with a broad spectrum of rednecks, but I swear – something about the urban pressure of ATL or who knows what exactly, instills even the most would-be obnoxious, NASCAR lovin’, Bush worshipping, bible banging caucazoid with some level of style and grace superior to the lumber jack descended stock of mutant ass white freakies you encounter out here. True, there are statistically higher rates of mental health issues and whatnot, which ties into the state’s healthcare policy and other politics I don’t want to go into now; and sure, the long rainy season leaves everyone a bit ‘moldy’. When I’ve tried to bring this up with friends, they sort of look at me like I’m Hitler or something, but I think ol’ peckerwood DJD’s mugshot speaks volumes in defense of my case.

Comicbook guy sez: “Lamest attempted armed robbery ever!”

So before making my way to this mega-”here come the cops again” summer houseparty, I went with Fasil and Trevor to see Talkdemonic at the Aladdin. Interesting stuff some of you will be taken with, in the vein of The Rachels, or defunct Asa Nisi Masa. I missed the openers, but I’d check out the headliner again. You can hear an MP3 here, or more at Myspace, including the super cool ‘Indian Angel’ (which sounds more Japanese to my ears…).

I was sent the link to this site, it’s all in Japanese but I’m trying to figure out translation software, at least for the text bits. You can see many trailers linked here, again, no english subtitles, but it’s really cool stuff. My education continues…

Ganime is also the name of a kaiju mutant stone crab, controlled by Space Amoeba.

A few weeks back, I was with a friend in Oxford Comics in ATL and got some small press stuff. I was really taken by Jeffrey Brown’s ‘Feeble Attempts’ and as there are various coincidences in his path and my own I decided to write him. Not only did he write back, but agreed to do an email interview, since the podcast isn’t feasible for now. Here’s the result:

-When you were younger, what were some titles, both hero and indie/small
press that you really loved?

I started off with X-Men and every X-related comic – Wolverine, X-Force,
Excalibur, New Mutants, etc – along with a healthy dose of other Marvel
titles like The Thing, Spider-Man, G.I.Joe…from there I moved on to a lot
of the European comics coming out of Heavy Metal, especially Moebius, and it
wasn’t long after that I got started on my first alternative comics,
Eightball and Dirty Plotte.

-What was your experience like working with McSweeny’s? How were you asked?
How has it gone so far in terms of your ideal expectations?

Chris Ware edited the McSweeney’s comics issue, and so invited me to
participate. Since then I’ve had the opportunity to meet and work with some
of the people there like Eli Horowitz, Ed Park, Andrew Leland…that issue
of McSweeney’s still manages to introduce people to my work, even though
it’s been a few years, so aside from having been a fan of McSweeney’s for
the past 7 or 8 years, it’s been a good experience that continues to pay
off.

-What was it like working with TAL (This American Life)?

That was another great experience, and my first introduction to really
working with an editor. Jonathan Goldstein was the producer worked with, who
happens to be a pretty good writer himself. We spent a few months working to
translate scenes from ‘Clumsy’ into prose that would read well on the radio.
It was actually a good way to somewhat deconstruct my writing style.

-In “Feeble Attempts” you reference working in a video store for a while.
Any other shlep jobs you’ve had to endure and would care to comment on?

I’ve had three jobs basically: a paper route in high school, working for
Barnes&Noble since I came to Chicago(managing the music department for about
five of those years), and in between I worked for the Wooden Shoe Factory &
Holland Bowl Mill in Holland, Michigan. My job there was to run the gift
shop while spending most of my time decorating Dutch wooden shoes and wooden
salad bowls, woodbruning windmills onto them and painting tulips on the
toes.

-Are you now able to maintain your lifestyle entirely on the fruits of your
own creative labor? If so, I think that’s completely amazing! If not, how
far are you from this?

In the past year or so I’ve made the transition to making my living from the
books. I guess it helps that I’ve got so many out…

-What was it like to come to Portland and do a reading for Powell’s? Other
impressions of Portland?

I actually did the reading for the Powell’s location here in Chicago, which
was a fun time actually, since I ended up improvising that after my original
plan to read something else got sidetracked by equipment problems. I did
sign at a store called Counter Media in Portland, and that was the last time
I’ve done a poetry reading. I had a good time in Portland, very laid back
and lots of nice people.

-Who do you think are some of the hottest indie comic makers today?

Anders Nilsen, Paul Hornschemeier, Gabrielle Bell, Kevin Huizenga are the
four that come to mind immediately, although there’s plenty more who maybe
aren’t as well known who are poised to make the move to the list, like Dan
Zettwoch, Dash Shaw, John Pham…

-Other than “Star Wars”, what are some films that turned you on?

David Lynch’s ‘Dune,’ everything from Terry Gilliam, ‘Evil Dead’, ‘Bottle
Rocket’…lately Michel Gondry’s films are among my favorites.

-What music are you currently loving? What is some music you’ve loved for a
long time, and maybe some stuff from your past that has fallen by the side?

Currently the new albums from Metric, Andrew Bird, Lavender Diamond,
Polyphonic Spree…old favorites would be Microphones(now called Mount
Eerie) and Neutral Milk Hotel. Fallen by the wayside would have to be
Fugazi, the one band from the distant past that made it on to my ipod if not
into heavy rotation.

-How did you get hooked up with Top Shelf, and what has been your experience
there?

Top Shelf initially passed on publishing ‘Clumsy’ but offered to distribute
for me. The book started selling too well and I didn’t have enough copies
left to meet demand, so Top Shelf took over publishing my books altogether
at that point. I’ve been pretty happy with Top Shelf…there’s been a couple
of times I’ve gotten a little upset with this or that, but in the end
they’ve really supported me and helped push my books a ton, leading back to
the ‘maintaining my lifestyle on the fruits of my labor’ issue…

Here’s a link to some other Jeffrey info and the Top Shelf site.