Civilization is a conspiracy. … Modern life is the silent compact of comfortable folk to keep up pretences.
John Buchan (1875–1940), author
There is an interesting two-page advertisement in the New York Times. I can’t find it online, just in the actual paper. It’s a letter from Paul Kuntzler, president, Court Reporters Transcribers, asking for his materials back from the Washington Post, specifically a video titled “The Men Who Killed Kennedy, the Final Chapter, Volumes 1 and 2.” According to the letter/advertisement the Post has been very slow in returning his materials and it still has not returned Volume 1.
He goes on through the two pages to detail the conspiracy to kill President John F. Kennedy. He says that Lyndon Johnson was involved, Richard Nixon was involved, George H. W. Bush, who then headed the CIA, was involved; Gerald Ford, who headed the Warren Commission, was involved, and Arlen Specter, who was a lawyer on the Warren Commission, was involved.
It is quite an interesting advertisement and makes one think twice about the entire conspiracy theory. What makes me think there may be more credibility to it than I had ever assumed is the recent political events that have led to George W. Bush’s election and many of the surrounding events.
The 2000 election snafu where the Supreme Court jumped in too soon, the 2004 Ohio voting snafu, President George W. Bush’s blatant high-handedness in doling out favors and political appointments to unqualified friends, the entire unnecessary war in Iraq, and the fact that Bush is just a front for Dick Cheney’s agenda.
I am not so ready to dismiss the conspiracy theory as I once was.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tom Snyder RIP
Misers are no fun to live with but they make great ancestors.
Tom Snyder, (May 1936 - July 29, 2007) journalist, talk show host
In case you don’t recall, Tom Snyder worked in Los Angeles as the local news anchor here (los Angeles) on KNBC, channel 4 in the 1970s is my earliest memory. It was the bantering between Snyder and Ross Porter that started the downward spiral of happy talk on the evening news. If you watch the video below, David Letterman says happy talk started in New York, so who knows.
I don’t recall who left first whether Porter left to join the Dodgers or Snyder moved on to New York. However, I believe it was Dan Ackroyd’s parody that probably further helped Snyder’s career.
Tom Snyder, (May 1936 - July 29, 2007) journalist, talk show host
In case you don’t recall, Tom Snyder worked in Los Angeles as the local news anchor here (los Angeles) on KNBC, channel 4 in the 1970s is my earliest memory. It was the bantering between Snyder and Ross Porter that started the downward spiral of happy talk on the evening news. If you watch the video below, David Letterman says happy talk started in New York, so who knows.
I don’t recall who left first whether Porter left to join the Dodgers or Snyder moved on to New York. However, I believe it was Dan Ackroyd’s parody that probably further helped Snyder’s career.
Singing with Emotion
Alas! all music jars when the soul’s out of tune.
Miguel de Cervantes (1547–1616), writer
I borrowed the idea of listing singers who move you from Janet at The Art of Getting By. Here is my list. No list attempting to name favorite singers who come across as believable in song and lyrics can start without Billie Holiday heading the list. She originated and perfected the art of singing with emotion. Without her we might still be listening to a bunch of Bing Cosby and Pat Boone type of songs and no saloon songs or rock and roll for that matter. The rest of the list is in no particular order of emotions:
Billie Holiday – Strange Fruit: This song was written especially for Holiday and the
pain and prejudice come through loud and clear. Frank Sinatra said many times that he learned to sing with emotion from watching and listening to Holiday. You can pick so many of her songs, when she sings that she is going to love you “Come Rain or Shine,” you believe her. When she sings “God Bless the Child” whose got his own, you know that child has something.
John Lennon – Cold Turkey: The temperature is rising, fever is high, can’t see no
future…Cold turkey has got him on the run and we feel as though we now know what heroin withdrawal is like without having to experience it first hand.
Ani DiFranco – Untouchable Face: You feel as though she
stopped crying long enough to get this song out. The venom of the chorus stings and you want to almost feel sorry for the guy/girl. She is one note away from being Glenn Close in “Fatal Attraction.”
Ann Sofie von Otter and Elvis Costello – Broken Bicycles/Junk: Costello combined Tom
Waits’ song Broken Bicycles and Paul McCartney’s Junk, this is sung with poetic beauty and the lyrics are great.
Paul McCartney -- Yesterday: comes across as someone who has suffered through life
and is now in the bars boring people with stories of yesteryear. Considering McCartney was in his mid-20s is truly exceptional. A plus for lyrics and A plus for singing with feeling to make this either the number one recorded song by other artists or second only to White Christmas.
Bob Dylan – Positively 4th Street: “You gotta a lot of nerve to say you are my friend.” I am not sure there was a more biting first line that not only captures many relationships, but easily translates to the corporate world.
Eric Clapton – Tears in Heaven: Because this story is true the song is so much more
potent. In case you don’t know, Clapton wrote this about his young child who fell out of the window of his Manhattan penthouse.
Frank Sinatra – In the Wee Small Hours: who among us has not wished that your boy-
or girl-friend would call late at night apologizing. The stings and Sinatra’s voice in this song are very moving. What make this song all the more powerful is you know Sinatra had been there too.
James McMurtry – We can’t Make it here Anymore: To me this song says what is causing America’s slide into a second rate power while China takes all our and the world’s manufacturing. Hear the song and see the video on my July 4th post.
Miles Davis – Blue in Green: If this song doesn’t send you to the bottle when you
are feeling down nothing will. The loneliness and desolation start at the first note.
The Kinks – 20th Century Man: This song just so perfectly sums up the issues of dealing with a modern society.
Neil Young – Needle and the Damage Done: for all those who didn’t go through cold turkey.
Lucinda Williams – Those Three Days: We all feel as though we were used.
Nina Simone – Sugar in My Bowl: combine this with Holiday, Sinatra, and Davis and you’ll either be singing Lennon’s “Cold Turkey” or Young will be singing about you.
Aerosmith – Going Down/Love in an Elevator: Living it up
while I am going down for a chorus to be illustrates the rock and roll life. From various interviews Steven Tyler said the song came out of true-life experiences; the elevator even opened up on them in the lobby as they were going to town.
This is by no means a complete list, please add your favorites.
Miguel de Cervantes (1547–1616), writer
I borrowed the idea of listing singers who move you from Janet at The Art of Getting By. Here is my list. No list attempting to name favorite singers who come across as believable in song and lyrics can start without Billie Holiday heading the list. She originated and perfected the art of singing with emotion. Without her we might still be listening to a bunch of Bing Cosby and Pat Boone type of songs and no saloon songs or rock and roll for that matter. The rest of the list is in no particular order of emotions:
Billie Holiday – Strange Fruit: This song was written especially for Holiday and the
pain and prejudice come through loud and clear. Frank Sinatra said many times that he learned to sing with emotion from watching and listening to Holiday. You can pick so many of her songs, when she sings that she is going to love you “Come Rain or Shine,” you believe her. When she sings “God Bless the Child” whose got his own, you know that child has something.John Lennon – Cold Turkey: The temperature is rising, fever is high, can’t see no
future…Cold turkey has got him on the run and we feel as though we now know what heroin withdrawal is like without having to experience it first hand.Ani DiFranco – Untouchable Face: You feel as though she
stopped crying long enough to get this song out. The venom of the chorus stings and you want to almost feel sorry for the guy/girl. She is one note away from being Glenn Close in “Fatal Attraction.”Ann Sofie von Otter and Elvis Costello – Broken Bicycles/Junk: Costello combined Tom
Waits’ song Broken Bicycles and Paul McCartney’s Junk, this is sung with poetic beauty and the lyrics are great.Paul McCartney -- Yesterday: comes across as someone who has suffered through life
and is now in the bars boring people with stories of yesteryear. Considering McCartney was in his mid-20s is truly exceptional. A plus for lyrics and A plus for singing with feeling to make this either the number one recorded song by other artists or second only to White Christmas.
Bob Dylan – Positively 4th Street: “You gotta a lot of nerve to say you are my friend.” I am not sure there was a more biting first line that not only captures many relationships, but easily translates to the corporate world.Eric Clapton – Tears in Heaven: Because this story is true the song is so much more
potent. In case you don’t know, Clapton wrote this about his young child who fell out of the window of his Manhattan penthouse.Frank Sinatra – In the Wee Small Hours: who among us has not wished that your boy-
or girl-friend would call late at night apologizing. The stings and Sinatra’s voice in this song are very moving. What make this song all the more powerful is you know Sinatra had been there too.
James McMurtry – We can’t Make it here Anymore: To me this song says what is causing America’s slide into a second rate power while China takes all our and the world’s manufacturing. Hear the song and see the video on my July 4th post.Miles Davis – Blue in Green: If this song doesn’t send you to the bottle when you
are feeling down nothing will. The loneliness and desolation start at the first note.
The Kinks – 20th Century Man: This song just so perfectly sums up the issues of dealing with a modern society.
Neil Young – Needle and the Damage Done: for all those who didn’t go through cold turkey.Lucinda Williams – Those Three Days: We all feel as though we were used.
Nina Simone – Sugar in My Bowl: combine this with Holiday, Sinatra, and Davis and you’ll either be singing Lennon’s “Cold Turkey” or Young will be singing about you.Aerosmith – Going Down/Love in an Elevator: Living it up
while I am going down for a chorus to be illustrates the rock and roll life. From various interviews Steven Tyler said the song came out of true-life experiences; the elevator even opened up on them in the lobby as they were going to town.This is by no means a complete list, please add your favorites.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Miracles of Nanotechnology
All cruel people describe themselves as paragons of frankness!
Tennessee Williams (1914–83), dramatist
I just finished reading the front section of the Los Angeles Times and read
the story about Vice President Dick Cheney’s heart surgery. The doctors replaced an implanted device that monitors his heartbeat.
Isn’t it amazing that through nanotechnology surgeons can find Cheney’s heart?
Tennessee Williams (1914–83), dramatist
I just finished reading the front section of the Los Angeles Times and read
the story about Vice President Dick Cheney’s heart surgery. The doctors replaced an implanted device that monitors his heartbeat.Isn’t it amazing that through nanotechnology surgeons can find Cheney’s heart?
Notes From Vacation
Every man who possibly can should force himself to a holiday of a full month in a year, whether he feels like taking it or not.
William James (1842–1910), psychologist
The time is flying by. I still have another week, but it seems as though it will be here just as I settle into a routine. Finished two books (I’m a slow reader) “Out Stealing Horses” by Per Petterson and “Bangkok Haunt” by John Burdett, both were enjoyable.
Saw Bob Dylan in concert. Visited brother, sister-in-law and nephew in Tucson, enjoyed the summer storms. However, I have been out misanthroped by my nephew. He is beyond misanthropic. A misanthrope at least has some passion, even if it is a dislike of people. My nephew is so cool that his personality is frozen, but over time he thaws out to the lovable tot I once knew. Before I left, I gave him a number of burned CDs; I’ll have to ask his father if he liked them.
We picked up Nephew on the way to the concert, he came down the stairs from his new apartment and I sat in the back sit waving to him I finally get a slight head nod. I gave him grief about that for two days. At the concert, he and I were saving a table, when a mother and daughter were sharing their excitement about the upcoming concert. They turned to nephew and asked what his favorite Dylan songs were. “I don’t know,” he said, conversation over.
I asked him after they left if he had any Dylan CDs. “Oh yeah,” he told me, “I’ve down loaded all of them.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“I like ‘It’s alright, Ma’ (I’m Only Bleeding.)’”
“Why didn’t you tell the mom and daughter that?”
“I don’t like chitchat.”
During the concert, I was bopping around in my sit to the music (daughter and I would have been up dancing), nephew sat there not even tapping his foot. The next day, a very nice couple came over for an evening barbeque and the man said about my nephew, he has cold water running through his veins.
“It’s more like embalming fluid,” I said.
He is a good kid. He recently turned 21, has his business degree, and is working in accounting.
A few days later, I golfed at a private club in Camarillo with On The Mark. What a luxury to play a fabulous course with no one behind us, no keeping score except to track birds, bogeys, and double bogeys. On The Mark, sunk at least a 40-foot putt for a bird, a very nice shot.
Vacation is wonderful!!
William James (1842–1910), psychologist
The time is flying by. I still have another week, but it seems as though it will be here just as I settle into a routine. Finished two books (I’m a slow reader) “Out Stealing Horses” by Per Petterson and “Bangkok Haunt” by John Burdett, both were enjoyable.
Saw Bob Dylan in concert. Visited brother, sister-in-law and nephew in Tucson, enjoyed the summer storms. However, I have been out misanthroped by my nephew. He is beyond misanthropic. A misanthrope at least has some passion, even if it is a dislike of people. My nephew is so cool that his personality is frozen, but over time he thaws out to the lovable tot I once knew. Before I left, I gave him a number of burned CDs; I’ll have to ask his father if he liked them.
We picked up Nephew on the way to the concert, he came down the stairs from his new apartment and I sat in the back sit waving to him I finally get a slight head nod. I gave him grief about that for two days. At the concert, he and I were saving a table, when a mother and daughter were sharing their excitement about the upcoming concert. They turned to nephew and asked what his favorite Dylan songs were. “I don’t know,” he said, conversation over.
I asked him after they left if he had any Dylan CDs. “Oh yeah,” he told me, “I’ve down loaded all of them.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“I like ‘It’s alright, Ma’ (I’m Only Bleeding.)’”
“Why didn’t you tell the mom and daughter that?”
“I don’t like chitchat.”
During the concert, I was bopping around in my sit to the music (daughter and I would have been up dancing), nephew sat there not even tapping his foot. The next day, a very nice couple came over for an evening barbeque and the man said about my nephew, he has cold water running through his veins.
“It’s more like embalming fluid,” I said.
He is a good kid. He recently turned 21, has his business degree, and is working in accounting.
A few days later, I golfed at a private club in Camarillo with On The Mark. What a luxury to play a fabulous course with no one behind us, no keeping score except to track birds, bogeys, and double bogeys. On The Mark, sunk at least a 40-foot putt for a bird, a very nice shot.
Vacation is wonderful!!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Feline as Grim Reaper
Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist
Oscar the cat seems to have an uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours. His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means they have less than four hours to live.
If that cat walked into my room he’d be joining me in the after life.
"He doesn't make too many mistakes. He seems to understand when patients are about to die," said Dr. David Dosa in an interview. He describes the phenomenon in a poignant essay in Thursday's issue of the New England Journal of Medicine.
Doesn’t make too many mistakes. Who the hell cares? With that kind of reputation he’d kill people once he entered the room.
After about six months, the staff noticed Oscar would make his own rounds, just like the doctors and nurses. He'd sniff and observe patients, then sit beside people who would wind up dying in a few hours.
That is probably because they are allergic to the damn cat of death. Scat, get the hell out of here!
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist
Oscar the cat seems to have an uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours. His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means they have less than four hours to live.
If that cat walked into my room he’d be joining me in the after life."He doesn't make too many mistakes. He seems to understand when patients are about to die," said Dr. David Dosa in an interview. He describes the phenomenon in a poignant essay in Thursday's issue of the New England Journal of Medicine.
Doesn’t make too many mistakes. Who the hell cares? With that kind of reputation he’d kill people once he entered the room.
After about six months, the staff noticed Oscar would make his own rounds, just like the doctors and nurses. He'd sniff and observe patients, then sit beside people who would wind up dying in a few hours.
That is probably because they are allergic to the damn cat of death. Scat, get the hell out of here!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Mick Jagger turns 64
At 20 a man is a peacock, at 30 a lion, at 40 a camel, at 50 a serpent, at 60 a dog, at 70 an ape, and at 80 nothing.
Baltasar Gracián (1601–58), writer
The energetic rocker turns 64 today. Wow!
Keith on the other hand will turn 164 toward the end of the year, well at least he looks like he will.
Baltasar Gracián (1601–58), writer
The energetic rocker turns 64 today. Wow!
Keith on the other hand will turn 164 toward the end of the year, well at least he looks like he will.
No place like home
A comfortable house is a great source of happiness. It ranks immediately after health and a good conscience.
Sydney Smith (1771–1845), writer
I am a homebody. I am perfectly content to stay home, read, hang out, and relax. Traveling to downtown everyday fighting traffic both ways is wearing, so when I get the opportunity to stay put I take it with zeal.
Seeing Bob Dylan was a big deal and it gave me an opportunity to see brother and sister-in-law’s house, which is very nice. The photo is just a portion of the view from their backyard, which allows them to survey much of Tucson proper. While I was there, I saw part of a summer monsoon coming through with the lightening and thunder.
I started my drive to Tucson on Tuesday morning and I got a late start so I ran into all the rush hour traffic, but I am on vacation and not in a hurry, so I ignored
most of it. Eighteen-wheelers passing each other like glaciers moving nowhere fast were my only frustration on the way there. I enjoyed the rainstorm driving through the desert.
I left last night at 8 and pulled into the driveway at 3 a.m. I sang duets with Dylan all the way home for seven hours to help me stay awake, which was easier than driving out there.
Sydney Smith (1771–1845), writer
I am a homebody. I am perfectly content to stay home, read, hang out, and relax. Traveling to downtown everyday fighting traffic both ways is wearing, so when I get the opportunity to stay put I take it with zeal.
Seeing Bob Dylan was a big deal and it gave me an opportunity to see brother and sister-in-law’s house, which is very nice. The photo is just a portion of the view from their backyard, which allows them to survey much of Tucson proper. While I was there, I saw part of a summer monsoon coming through with the lightening and thunder.
I started my drive to Tucson on Tuesday morning and I got a late start so I ran into all the rush hour traffic, but I am on vacation and not in a hurry, so I ignored
most of it. Eighteen-wheelers passing each other like glaciers moving nowhere fast were my only frustration on the way there. I enjoyed the rainstorm driving through the desert.I left last night at 8 and pulled into the driveway at 3 a.m. I sang duets with Dylan all the way home for seven hours to help me stay awake, which was easier than driving out there.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Misanthrope on the Road
Bob Dylan in Concert
Democracy don't rule the world, You'd better get that in your head; This world is ruled by violence, But I guess that's better left unsaid.
Bob Dylan, singer/songwriter
TUCSON, AZ – Bob Dylan played the Del Sol Casino here last night and it was incredible. It’s easy to say the show surpassed all my expectations because I had none. I had heard Dylan can be on or off it’s just a crap shoot. The concert review
in the New York Times a few weeks ago said good things, but then that is New York, if you bomb there everyone will know.
If you bomb in Tucson who cares? Dylan apparently because I felt as though I saw a historic show. He opened with Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat, followed with Lay, Lady, Lay. He played guitar on both songs, he than moved to the organ where he played standing behind it the rest of the show.
To say that his voice is rough or course is not completely accurate; if it were possible, it’s more like he gargled with whiskey and rusty thumbtacks. The melody of many of the older songs were changed to the style of the new CDs and you had to sometimes wait until the chorus to figure out what song he was singing, but once you did, oddly the lyrics were clearer than on the CDs. To give you a close idea of how Dylan sang here are the words as I heard them
TheysattogetherintheparkAstheeveningskygrewdark
Shelookedathimandhefeltasparktingletohisbones
Itwasthenhefeltaloneandwishedthathe'dgonestraight
Andwatchedoutfor
a
simple
twist
of
fate.
Theywalkedalonebytheold canalAlittleconfusedIrememberwell
Andstoppedintoastrangehotelwithaneonburningbright
HefelttheheatofthenighthithimlikeafreighttrainMovingwitha
simple
twist
of
fate
after moving to the organ, he played the songs in roughly this order:
Watching the River Flow, Workingman’s Blues #2, Rollin’ and Tumblin’, Simple Twist of Fate, Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again, Million Miles, When the Deal Goes Down, Watching the River Flow, Señor (Tales of Yankee Power), Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine), Summer Days, Masters of War, and Highway 61.
The memorable songs to me were Workingman’s Blues #2 because it is a recent favorite. Masters of War is just as powerful and apropos, sadly, as it was when he first recorded it. He played it with a heavy organ sound. The rocker of the night was Highway 61, which was simply great rock and roll. My nephew who sat next me had to even nod his head a bit to that song, more on my nephew on a later post.
Dylan played for 90 minutes and never spoke a word to the audience, other than to introduce his band. During Highway 61 Dylan turned toward the audience and cracked a sly sardonic grin.
Bob Dylan, singer/songwriter
TUCSON, AZ – Bob Dylan played the Del Sol Casino here last night and it was incredible. It’s easy to say the show surpassed all my expectations because I had none. I had heard Dylan can be on or off it’s just a crap shoot. The concert review
in the New York Times a few weeks ago said good things, but then that is New York, if you bomb there everyone will know.If you bomb in Tucson who cares? Dylan apparently because I felt as though I saw a historic show. He opened with Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat, followed with Lay, Lady, Lay. He played guitar on both songs, he than moved to the organ where he played standing behind it the rest of the show.
To say that his voice is rough or course is not completely accurate; if it were possible, it’s more like he gargled with whiskey and rusty thumbtacks. The melody of many of the older songs were changed to the style of the new CDs and you had to sometimes wait until the chorus to figure out what song he was singing, but once you did, oddly the lyrics were clearer than on the CDs. To give you a close idea of how Dylan sang here are the words as I heard them
TheysattogetherintheparkAstheeveningskygrewdark
Shelookedathimandhefeltasparktingletohisbones
Itwasthenhefeltaloneandwishedthathe'dgonestraight
Andwatchedoutfor
a
simple
twist
of
fate.
Theywalkedalonebytheold canalAlittleconfusedIrememberwell
Andstoppedintoastrangehotelwithaneonburningbright
HefelttheheatofthenighthithimlikeafreighttrainMovingwitha
simple
twist
of
fate
after moving to the organ, he played the songs in roughly this order:
Watching the River Flow, Workingman’s Blues #2, Rollin’ and Tumblin’, Simple Twist of Fate, Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again, Million Miles, When the Deal Goes Down, Watching the River Flow, Señor (Tales of Yankee Power), Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine), Summer Days, Masters of War, and Highway 61.
The memorable songs to me were Workingman’s Blues #2 because it is a recent favorite. Masters of War is just as powerful and apropos, sadly, as it was when he first recorded it. He played it with a heavy organ sound. The rocker of the night was Highway 61, which was simply great rock and roll. My nephew who sat next me had to even nod his head a bit to that song, more on my nephew on a later post.
Dylan played for 90 minutes and never spoke a word to the audience, other than to introduce his band. During Highway 61 Dylan turned toward the audience and cracked a sly sardonic grin.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Brother Can You Spare $3.60
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below.
Bob Dylan, “One More Cup of Coffee,” singer/songwriter
I did Starbucks for about a year, three days a week; it was my breakfast on the run.
I have since stopped once I started adding it all up. Now I am very happy or should I say Grande happy.
Starbucks is raising U.S. prices on coffee, lattes and other drinks by an average of 9 cents a cup next week to help offset soaring costs for milk and other commodities, a spokesman said on Monday. What the spokesperson should have said was prices are rising to help meet profit projections for shareholders.
This will Starbucks' second price increase in less than a year. Try not going to the ubiquitous coffee shop and watch what will happen to prices. But, the smart money people know that we’ll do nothing.
"There will probably be some grumblings initially, but at the end of the day I think people aren't going to change their pattern of buying," said Morningstar Inc restaurant analyst John Owens.
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below.
Bob Dylan, “One More Cup of Coffee,” singer/songwriter
I did Starbucks for about a year, three days a week; it was my breakfast on the run.
I have since stopped once I started adding it all up. Now I am very happy or should I say Grande happy.Starbucks is raising U.S. prices on coffee, lattes and other drinks by an average of 9 cents a cup next week to help offset soaring costs for milk and other commodities, a spokesman said on Monday. What the spokesperson should have said was prices are rising to help meet profit projections for shareholders.
This will Starbucks' second price increase in less than a year. Try not going to the ubiquitous coffee shop and watch what will happen to prices. But, the smart money people know that we’ll do nothing.
"There will probably be some grumblings initially, but at the end of the day I think people aren't going to change their pattern of buying," said Morningstar Inc restaurant analyst John Owens.
Tombstone Blues
Mostly You Go Your Way, I’ll Go Mine
Bob Dylan, singer/songwriter
I am on the road to Tucson to see brother, sister-in-law, nephew and Bob Dylan. Brother called a few weeks ago and said that he could get better seats if he purchased four tickets instead of three, so I agreed to go.
Attempting to use a Southwest refundable ticket proved futile. The expiration goes by the time you purchased the ticket, not based on the date you were scheduled to fly. So, they deduct $50 and send the next ticket to you via U.S. Mail, not online because they want you to buy another ticket.
So, rather than hassle the security nonsense, the luggage ordeal, I determined it was easier to drive. I have my CDs and my iPod player, which says I can drive for 7.6 days without hearing the same song.
Bob Dylan, singer/songwriter
I am on the road to Tucson to see brother, sister-in-law, nephew and Bob Dylan. Brother called a few weeks ago and said that he could get better seats if he purchased four tickets instead of three, so I agreed to go.
Attempting to use a Southwest refundable ticket proved futile. The expiration goes by the time you purchased the ticket, not based on the date you were scheduled to fly. So, they deduct $50 and send the next ticket to you via U.S. Mail, not online because they want you to buy another ticket.
So, rather than hassle the security nonsense, the luggage ordeal, I determined it was easier to drive. I have my CDs and my iPod player, which says I can drive for 7.6 days without hearing the same song.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Not as Stupid as We Appear
The question now is: Can we understand our stupidity? This is a test of intellect, not of character.
John King Fairbank (1907–91), historian
Americans aren’t as ignorant as portrayed in the host of polls showing many of us failing tests of general knowledge and history, according to an article in the National Journal, run in today’s Wall Street Journal.
The polls I thought they were talking about were any that still showed support for George W. Bush and his disastrous presidency, but no, it’s the ones that show a majority of the people surveyed can name two of Snow White’s dwarfs but not two Supreme Court justices.
They point out that the questions are often poorly designed, misleadingly tricky and contain errors. The respondents couldn’t name the author of Pride and Prejudice because the questionnaire had Jane Austen’s name misspelled. This is my theory: when Grumpy and Dopey were listed people thought they were answering two questions Antonin Scalia as Grumpy and Clarence Thomas as Dopey.
We’re not so dumb after all.
But then again…
The story in Friday’s Los Angeles Times about Caesars Palace royal expansion explains the hotel’s renovations include a new 665-room Octavius Tower, but the icing on the cake is that the existing Forum Tower will be remodeled. All rooms will have flat panel televisions, iPod docks and doorbells. Doorbells!? We need another survey.
John King Fairbank (1907–91), historian
Americans aren’t as ignorant as portrayed in the host of polls showing many of us failing tests of general knowledge and history, according to an article in the National Journal, run in today’s Wall Street Journal.
The polls I thought they were talking about were any that still showed support for George W. Bush and his disastrous presidency, but no, it’s the ones that show a majority of the people surveyed can name two of Snow White’s dwarfs but not two Supreme Court justices.
They point out that the questions are often poorly designed, misleadingly tricky and contain errors. The respondents couldn’t name the author of Pride and Prejudice because the questionnaire had Jane Austen’s name misspelled. This is my theory: when Grumpy and Dopey were listed people thought they were answering two questions Antonin Scalia as Grumpy and Clarence Thomas as Dopey.
We’re not so dumb after all.
But then again…
The story in Friday’s Los Angeles Times about Caesars Palace royal expansion explains the hotel’s renovations include a new 665-room Octavius Tower, but the icing on the cake is that the existing Forum Tower will be remodeled. All rooms will have flat panel televisions, iPod docks and doorbells. Doorbells!? We need another survey.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Don’t do it George W. Bush, don’t do it.
How many of our daydreams would darken into nightmares, were there a danger of their coming true!
Logan Pearsall Smith (1865–1946), essayist
At some point today the prince of darkness, no not knuckle head columnist Robert Novak, but the real thing, Dick Cheney is going to assume the powers of the President of the United States! President Bush will have a colonoscopy Saturday and temporarily hand presidential powers to Cheney.
The doctors are going to do to Bush with their medical instruments, what he has been doing the American people and the world with his policies.
With Cheney at the controls, I wonder if he will completely pardon Libby Lewis. If he does, I am sure we’ll be the last to know.
Logan Pearsall Smith (1865–1946), essayist
At some point today the prince of darkness, no not knuckle head columnist Robert Novak, but the real thing, Dick Cheney is going to assume the powers of the President of the United States! President Bush will have a colonoscopy Saturday and temporarily hand presidential powers to Cheney.
The doctors are going to do to Bush with their medical instruments, what he has been doing the American people and the world with his policies.
With Cheney at the controls, I wonder if he will completely pardon Libby Lewis. If he does, I am sure we’ll be the last to know.
Friday, July 20, 2007
A Trip to Dodger Stadium
Two Hot Dogs, Peanuts and a Second Mortgage, Please
Inflation is as violent as a mugger, as frightening as an armed robber and as deadly as a hit man.
Ronald Reagan (1911 -- 2004), U.S. President
At the risk of sounding like an old codger, going to a Dodger game is not what it once was. The declivity begins immediately with $15 parking and enduring the slow winding parade past a natural parking lot entrance to the backside of the same lot while being directed by an army of parking attendants. I’d rather find my spot myself; it used to be so much quicker.
There was a story in the travel section last weekend about U.S. travelers to Europe experiencing price shock because the dollar is so weak against the Euro. Let me tell you, you don’t have to go to Europe to experience the devaluation of the dollar, just go to Dodger Stadium. If Fed Chairman Ben S. Bernanke attended a game, he’d see inflation on par with oil prices. Oh that’s right, food and oil don’t count in the inflation statistics. One hot dog, $5.50; one scaled down medium soda, $4.50; one regular bottled water, $5.50; one bag of peanuts $5. 50 (actually, I don’t recall the price of the peanuts; I might be off by fifty cents. The price of the ticket, well, let’s say I could pay my gas bill in the winter and have money left over for a movie.
In between innings, regular commercials played on the giant scoreboard. Every piece of real estate is for sale at the stadium. Employee uniforms have manufacturer labels; advertising is blasted with flashing, blinking lights that would make Las Vegas take notice.
Don’t take me out to the ballpark, just open up a certificate of deposit in my name please and we’ll call it even.
Ronald Reagan (1911 -- 2004), U.S. President
At the risk of sounding like an old codger, going to a Dodger game is not what it once was. The declivity begins immediately with $15 parking and enduring the slow winding parade past a natural parking lot entrance to the backside of the same lot while being directed by an army of parking attendants. I’d rather find my spot myself; it used to be so much quicker.
There was a story in the travel section last weekend about U.S. travelers to Europe experiencing price shock because the dollar is so weak against the Euro. Let me tell you, you don’t have to go to Europe to experience the devaluation of the dollar, just go to Dodger Stadium. If Fed Chairman Ben S. Bernanke attended a game, he’d see inflation on par with oil prices. Oh that’s right, food and oil don’t count in the inflation statistics. One hot dog, $5.50; one scaled down medium soda, $4.50; one regular bottled water, $5.50; one bag of peanuts $5. 50 (actually, I don’t recall the price of the peanuts; I might be off by fifty cents. The price of the ticket, well, let’s say I could pay my gas bill in the winter and have money left over for a movie.
In between innings, regular commercials played on the giant scoreboard. Every piece of real estate is for sale at the stadium. Employee uniforms have manufacturer labels; advertising is blasted with flashing, blinking lights that would make Las Vegas take notice.
Don’t take me out to the ballpark, just open up a certificate of deposit in my name please and we’ll call it even.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Missed Explosion
Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist
I hadn’t heard the news. I am on vacation for a couple of weeks. I was sitting in the backyard starting a new book, “Out Stealing Horses” by Per Petterson, when Johnna from Blindsquirrel called and said she was okay and just missed New York’s latest explosion. You can read her more detailed story at her site.
Thank goodness you’re okay. I turned on the local news and there was nothing on, so I knew it couldn’t be a major disaster, so I turned to CNN and they were reporting it and I discovered a steam pipe burst from under the street. Working late sometimes does have its benefits. Immediately following the explosion she and other workers were told to leave, as in get out of the building now.
Johnna moved to the big apple to further her playwriting career, but she misses Los Angeles, but she is doing well and doing more than holding her own. She is fifty pages into her trilogy of plays and attends a writing class that workshops her scenes with real actors.
What happens is that when I don’t write for the blog I also don’t read other blogs as a general rule, because I usually get to the blogs through Tonermishap. Johnna’s dedication to writing has served as an inspiration for the past couple of years we worked together.
I guess it’s time to poke my head back into the world of blogs.
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist
I hadn’t heard the news. I am on vacation for a couple of weeks. I was sitting in the backyard starting a new book, “Out Stealing Horses” by Per Petterson, when Johnna from Blindsquirrel called and said she was okay and just missed New York’s latest explosion. You can read her more detailed story at her site.
Thank goodness you’re okay. I turned on the local news and there was nothing on, so I knew it couldn’t be a major disaster, so I turned to CNN and they were reporting it and I discovered a steam pipe burst from under the street. Working late sometimes does have its benefits. Immediately following the explosion she and other workers were told to leave, as in get out of the building now.
Johnna moved to the big apple to further her playwriting career, but she misses Los Angeles, but she is doing well and doing more than holding her own. She is fifty pages into her trilogy of plays and attends a writing class that workshops her scenes with real actors.
What happens is that when I don’t write for the blog I also don’t read other blogs as a general rule, because I usually get to the blogs through Tonermishap. Johnna’s dedication to writing has served as an inspiration for the past couple of years we worked together.
I guess it’s time to poke my head back into the world of blogs.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Hide and Seek in the Forest of ChouChou:
Gary Baseman at Billy Shire
My wife celebrated her birthday on Bastille Day (as usual) and allowed me the pleasure of taking her to the Gary Baseman opening at the Billy Shire gallery last night in Culver City -- awesome evening!
Baseman is known for his pervasive art (I'm pretty sure he coined the phrase, and plies his trade alongside fellow artists such as Tim Biskup). He is everywhere, not just with fine art but also vinyl toys, textiles, prints, books, soda cans... he blurs the line between low and high art, between fine art and commercial product. Not the first to do so, but certainly one of the more successful, and so quickly! I love his style and his various mythologies, many of which are very character-centered.
The "ChouChou" exhibit is an example of such, and we were able to chat with him at the opening and hear from the artist himself some of the ideas that went into it over the year he spent developing the concept. It was incredible to hear him describe the parts he had worked out and the parts that he still hadn't quite figured out, though he's already painting them...
Baseman is a guy I've been enjoying for a while, especially given our similar backgrounds: we both grew up in LA, both went to kindergarten at Laurel Elementary, both attended UCLA and had the same job there (years apart), both friends with my mentor Arvli Ward... and he has the type of success I'd like for myself.
Baseman is known for his pervasive art (I'm pretty sure he coined the phrase, and plies his trade alongside fellow artists such as Tim Biskup). He is everywhere, not just with fine art but also vinyl toys, textiles, prints, books, soda cans... he blurs the line between low and high art, between fine art and commercial product. Not the first to do so, but certainly one of the more successful, and so quickly! I love his style and his various mythologies, many of which are very character-centered.
The "ChouChou" exhibit is an example of such, and we were able to chat with him at the opening and hear from the artist himself some of the ideas that went into it over the year he spent developing the concept. It was incredible to hear him describe the parts he had worked out and the parts that he still hadn't quite figured out, though he's already painting them...Baseman is a guy I've been enjoying for a while, especially given our similar backgrounds: we both grew up in LA, both went to kindergarten at Laurel Elementary, both attended UCLA and had the same job there (years apart), both friends with my mentor Arvli Ward... and he has the type of success I'd like for myself.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Revenge Pooping:
The Worst Kind of Pooping
So my family and I were on vacation for a little while... sans poodles; they were being boarded chez in-laws, and so for ten days they probably sat staring out the window-in-law wondering if we'd abandoned them forever.
So we got back to town, picked them up, and brought them back to the B2 homestead... and we are still experiencing the horror of revenge pooping.
As you can no doubt guess, revenge pooping is when your pets, in an effort to get back at you for a perceived slight or injustice, take to ignoring all training and expensive dog doors (if available) and intentionally poop IN THE HOUSE.
Frequently.
Repeatedly.
For days on end.
Revenge pooping: the worst kind of pooping.
So we got back to town, picked them up, and brought them back to the B2 homestead... and we are still experiencing the horror of revenge pooping.
As you can no doubt guess, revenge pooping is when your pets, in an effort to get back at you for a perceived slight or injustice, take to ignoring all training and expensive dog doors (if available) and intentionally poop IN THE HOUSE.
Frequently.
Repeatedly.
For days on end.
Revenge pooping: the worst kind of pooping.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Happy July 4th
Freedom is not an ideal, it is not even a protection, if it means nothing more than freedom to stagnate, to live without dreams, to have no greater aim than a second car and another television set.
Adlai Stevenson (1900–1965),politician
Adlai Stevenson (1900–1965),politician
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Men Bullying Women, Part II
The first duty of a lecturer—to hand you after an hour’s discourse a nugget of pure truth to wrap up between the pages of your notebooks and keep on the mantelpiece for ever.
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist
Daughter’s in the Master’s program, her professor started berating the class of eight students, five of whom did not read the assignment because of a miscommunication between what was on the syllabus and what was on the board.
The adjunct professor is 6’4” and in his mid-forties. He started yelling at the students calling them pathetic several times, looking at Daughter and another girl (both are A students and known for their work ethic). After class, Daughter went up to the instructor and apologized for missing the assignment and accepted responsibility, but told him she didn’t think it was right to publicly humiliate them.
Then he increased his level of yelling and said, I have a specific problem with you! If you want to drop the class, I won’t stop you, and lucky for you I grade blindly, so this won’t affect your grade.
Daughter replied, Regardless, I don’t think it’s your place to embarrass us.
I think it is, shouted the instructor.
I respectfully disagree, said Daughter as she calmly walked out of the class.
The next morning, The university’s program director received four e-mails and one voicemail reporting the instructor’s outburst.
Drop or not to drop? The program director has encouraged Daughter to stay in the class and he will review her appeal, if one is necessary.
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist
Daughter’s in the Master’s program, her professor started berating the class of eight students, five of whom did not read the assignment because of a miscommunication between what was on the syllabus and what was on the board.
The adjunct professor is 6’4” and in his mid-forties. He started yelling at the students calling them pathetic several times, looking at Daughter and another girl (both are A students and known for their work ethic). After class, Daughter went up to the instructor and apologized for missing the assignment and accepted responsibility, but told him she didn’t think it was right to publicly humiliate them.Then he increased his level of yelling and said, I have a specific problem with you! If you want to drop the class, I won’t stop you, and lucky for you I grade blindly, so this won’t affect your grade.
Daughter replied, Regardless, I don’t think it’s your place to embarrass us.
I think it is, shouted the instructor.
I respectfully disagree, said Daughter as she calmly walked out of the class.
The next morning, The university’s program director received four e-mails and one voicemail reporting the instructor’s outburst.
Drop or not to drop? The program director has encouraged Daughter to stay in the class and he will review her appeal, if one is necessary.
Olympic Logo or Pornography?
Art attracts us only by what it reveals of our most secret self.
Jean-Luc Godard, filmmaker
I found this on Diary of a Hope Fiend. I copied her entire post:
So, for those of you not in England, this is the new 2012 London Olympics logo, on which judgment has been passed by the British People.
That being, it looks like Lisa Simpson giving a BJ.
Jean-Luc Godard, filmmaker
I found this on Diary of a Hope Fiend. I copied her entire post:
So, for those of you not in England, this is the new 2012 London Olympics logo, on which judgment has been passed by the British People.
That being, it looks like Lisa Simpson giving a BJ.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Mission Accomplished
Has Bush ruined the phrase "mission accomplished"? I heard it used the other day in a radio commercial -- some guy referring to his do-it-yourself carpentry project or something like that -- and my first thought was, "are they intentionally referencing Bush? Was this written by liberals? Is 'mission accomplished' now used only sarcastically?"
Your thoughts? Have we lost the ability to use this phrase now?
Monday, June 18, 2007
Assholes take advantage of Women
Sexism is the foundation on which all tyranny is built. Every social form of hierarchy and abuse is modeled on male-over-female domination.
Andrea Dworkin, critic
I am furious about the way women are treated by asshole men in power. Two examples that have me steaming and I promise you letters will fly shortly.
Wife’s air conditioner in her Honda CRV went out. I knew it was going to be expensive, but I told her just to take it in and I would take her to work. She called and they couldn’t give her an estimate until they looked at it. They called wife Monday morning and told her the unit was shot and that it would cost $2,101. She was shocked and felt bad as if the air conditioner going out was her fault when she told me the cost. I stayed calm and I called another mechanic, who unfortunately didn’t handle air conditioners, but referred me to another place. I called back the Honda dealer at First Honda in Simi Valley to get the details about what he told wife. Trevor told me it was going to be $2,101 and I told Trevor not to touch the car and I would pick it up tonight.
Paraphrasing here: Well just second, Mr. Misanthrope, you have been a customer here for a long time, let me see what I can do. I will call you back in an hour or so.
He called back: Mr. Misanthrope, I called my parts’ representative and we can do the whole job for $1,071. He is going to give us the parts because you have been a long time customer. It might be two days before you get your car back.
Only wife has been a good customer. I have always hated the First group of car dealers because I felt they were less than ethical when dealing with me years ago, and I had issues with the Nissan service charging $10 more for an oil change than the Thousand Oaks Nissan service, but wife continued to go to Honda because it was close. Despite the fact that when we purchased the car, I was quoted one loan percentage figure, but when wife went to sign the papers, they had increased it by a couple of points and she made them lower it.
We went to the dealer to get wife’s keys and Trevor pointed to where the keys were. I stopped off at Trevor’s desk and in a stern voice and said we’ll get the car tomorrow night, correct (not in a questioning tone). He replied, “Yes, we have all the parts here.”
Caught in his own lie not even realizing that he told me he didn’t have the parts. I plan to write to the owner, who probably doesn’t care what is going on, thinking that there is a sucker born every minute. I plan to write a letter to the local Rotary chapter because I know the owner belongs to that group. I may even write to the city council members just to let them know, since a few are women.
Tomorrow, I’ll write my frustrations with Best Buy regarding Daughter and Daughter’s fight with her adjunct professor in the Master’s program, who yelled at her in class because she questioned his authority.
Andrea Dworkin, critic
I am furious about the way women are treated by asshole men in power. Two examples that have me steaming and I promise you letters will fly shortly.
Wife’s air conditioner in her Honda CRV went out. I knew it was going to be expensive, but I told her just to take it in and I would take her to work. She called and they couldn’t give her an estimate until they looked at it. They called wife Monday morning and told her the unit was shot and that it would cost $2,101. She was shocked and felt bad as if the air conditioner going out was her fault when she told me the cost. I stayed calm and I called another mechanic, who unfortunately didn’t handle air conditioners, but referred me to another place. I called back the Honda dealer at First Honda in Simi Valley to get the details about what he told wife. Trevor told me it was going to be $2,101 and I told Trevor not to touch the car and I would pick it up tonight.
Paraphrasing here: Well just second, Mr. Misanthrope, you have been a customer here for a long time, let me see what I can do. I will call you back in an hour or so.
He called back: Mr. Misanthrope, I called my parts’ representative and we can do the whole job for $1,071. He is going to give us the parts because you have been a long time customer. It might be two days before you get your car back.
Only wife has been a good customer. I have always hated the First group of car dealers because I felt they were less than ethical when dealing with me years ago, and I had issues with the Nissan service charging $10 more for an oil change than the Thousand Oaks Nissan service, but wife continued to go to Honda because it was close. Despite the fact that when we purchased the car, I was quoted one loan percentage figure, but when wife went to sign the papers, they had increased it by a couple of points and she made them lower it.
We went to the dealer to get wife’s keys and Trevor pointed to where the keys were. I stopped off at Trevor’s desk and in a stern voice and said we’ll get the car tomorrow night, correct (not in a questioning tone). He replied, “Yes, we have all the parts here.”
Caught in his own lie not even realizing that he told me he didn’t have the parts. I plan to write to the owner, who probably doesn’t care what is going on, thinking that there is a sucker born every minute. I plan to write a letter to the local Rotary chapter because I know the owner belongs to that group. I may even write to the city council members just to let them know, since a few are women.
Tomorrow, I’ll write my frustrations with Best Buy regarding Daughter and Daughter’s fight with her adjunct professor in the Master’s program, who yelled at her in class because she questioned his authority.
Where's Michael Moore?
We hand folks over to God’s mercy, and show none ourselves.
George Eliot (1819–80), novelist
Once again the work ethic and compassion of the employees of Martin Luther King Jr. –Harbor Hospital came through loud and clear as they let Edith Isabel Rodriguez, 43,
die in the emergency room. Others waiting in the ER watching in horror called 911, but to no avail as the operators at 911 couldn’t comprehend that no one was helping them in the ER.
The janitor mopped up the blood Rodriquez had vomited, but he too did nothing. Her death, according to the story in Saturday’s Los Angeles Times, said she might have been saved had she received treatment for her perforated bowel.
The blame was placed on the nightshift nurse Linda Ruttlen, the janitor and four others who ignored pleads for help. The punishment thus far has been a letter of reprimand and referred to the state nursing board for investigation. I wonder if Ruttlen or the others will even get the amount of jail time that Paris Hilton received?
George Eliot (1819–80), novelist
Once again the work ethic and compassion of the employees of Martin Luther King Jr. –Harbor Hospital came through loud and clear as they let Edith Isabel Rodriguez, 43,
die in the emergency room. Others waiting in the ER watching in horror called 911, but to no avail as the operators at 911 couldn’t comprehend that no one was helping them in the ER.The janitor mopped up the blood Rodriquez had vomited, but he too did nothing. Her death, according to the story in Saturday’s Los Angeles Times, said she might have been saved had she received treatment for her perforated bowel.
The blame was placed on the nightshift nurse Linda Ruttlen, the janitor and four others who ignored pleads for help. The punishment thus far has been a letter of reprimand and referred to the state nursing board for investigation. I wonder if Ruttlen or the others will even get the amount of jail time that Paris Hilton received?
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Happy Father’s Day
In peace the sons bury their fathers, but in war the fathers bury their sons.
Croesus (560 BC), Lydian king
Croesus (560 BC), Lydian king
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Leon Russell Live
To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward.
Margaret Fairless Barber (1869–1901), English author
I just returned from watching Leon Russell with On The Mark at the Canyon Club in Agoura. We were always big fans of Russell from his days with the Joe Cocker tour Mad Dogs and Englishmen. I didn’t see the concert, much too young, but I did see the
movie and buy the album. On The Mark and me further solidified our friendship when I traded him the above-mentioned LP for the Rolling Stones “More Hot Rocks: Big Hits & Fazed Cookies.” I had written in the Cocker LP under Russell’s name something like the greatest or some such high schooler stuff.
Anyway, back to the show, Russell made it to the stage with the help of a cane. He gained a few pounds, but who hasn’t, it started out a bit stiff because Russell’s voice was not warmed up, I figured out he was singing “Delta Lady.” His other songs last night included “Prince of Peace,” “Wild Horses,” “Out in the Woods,” “Hummingbird,” “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry,” “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall,” “Stranger in a Strange Land,” “Jumping Jack Flash,” and a few others. I came so close to not going. The concert I really wanted to see, but I didn’t have my driver’s license yet and no one who had their license was allowed to drive all the way down to Long Beach. Of course that show turned out to be his live LP “Leon Live.”
All in all, it was a nice show and if you’re a Leon Russell fan, I would recommend seeing him if he is in your town.
I almost forgot to mention how I discovered Russell in the first place. When I was in junior high school, a cousin's girlfriend who worked for Rolling Stone, sent me his LP "Leon Russell and the Shelter People," Cat Steven's "Tea for the Tillerman," and the current issue of Rolling Stone that had the first chapters of Hunter Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Quite an eye opener for someone who was a Monkees fan only a couple of years earlier.
Margaret Fairless Barber (1869–1901), English author
I just returned from watching Leon Russell with On The Mark at the Canyon Club in Agoura. We were always big fans of Russell from his days with the Joe Cocker tour Mad Dogs and Englishmen. I didn’t see the concert, much too young, but I did see the
movie and buy the album. On The Mark and me further solidified our friendship when I traded him the above-mentioned LP for the Rolling Stones “More Hot Rocks: Big Hits & Fazed Cookies.” I had written in the Cocker LP under Russell’s name something like the greatest or some such high schooler stuff.Anyway, back to the show, Russell made it to the stage with the help of a cane. He gained a few pounds, but who hasn’t, it started out a bit stiff because Russell’s voice was not warmed up, I figured out he was singing “Delta Lady.” His other songs last night included “Prince of Peace,” “Wild Horses,” “Out in the Woods,” “Hummingbird,” “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry,” “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall,” “Stranger in a Strange Land,” “Jumping Jack Flash,” and a few others. I came so close to not going. The concert I really wanted to see, but I didn’t have my driver’s license yet and no one who had their license was allowed to drive all the way down to Long Beach. Of course that show turned out to be his live LP “Leon Live.”
All in all, it was a nice show and if you’re a Leon Russell fan, I would recommend seeing him if he is in your town.
I almost forgot to mention how I discovered Russell in the first place. When I was in junior high school, a cousin's girlfriend who worked for Rolling Stone, sent me his LP "Leon Russell and the Shelter People," Cat Steven's "Tea for the Tillerman," and the current issue of Rolling Stone that had the first chapters of Hunter Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Quite an eye opener for someone who was a Monkees fan only a couple of years earlier.
Leon Russell Live
To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward.
Margaret Fairless Barber (1869–1901), English author
I just returned from watching Leon Russell with On The Mark at the Canyon Club in Agoura. We were always big fans of Russell from his days with the Joe Cocker tour Mad Dogs and Englishmen. I didn’t see the concert, much too young, but I did see the movie and buy the album. On The Mark and me further solidified our friendship when I traded him the above-mentioned LP for the Rolling Stones “More Hot Rocks: Big Hits & Fazed Cookies.” I had written in the Cocker LP under Russell’s name something like the greatest or some such high schooler stuff.
Anyway, back to the show, Russell made it to the stage with the help of a cane. He gained a few pounds, but who hasn’t, it started out a bit stiff because Russell’s voice was not warmed up, I figured out he was singing “Delta Lady.” His other songs last night included “Prince of Peace,” “Wild Horses,” “Out in the Woods,” “Hummingbird,” Prince of Peace,” “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry,” “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall,” “Stranger in a Strange Land,” “Jumping Jack Flash,” and a few others. I came so close to not going. The concert I really wanted to see, but I didn’t have my driver’s license yet and no one who had their license was allowed to drive all the way down to Long Beach. Of course that show turned out to be his live LP “Leon Live.”
All in all, it was a nice show and if you’re a Leon Russell fan, I would recommend seeing him if he is in your town.
Margaret Fairless Barber (1869–1901), English author
I just returned from watching Leon Russell with On The Mark at the Canyon Club in Agoura. We were always big fans of Russell from his days with the Joe Cocker tour Mad Dogs and Englishmen. I didn’t see the concert, much too young, but I did see the movie and buy the album. On The Mark and me further solidified our friendship when I traded him the above-mentioned LP for the Rolling Stones “More Hot Rocks: Big Hits & Fazed Cookies.” I had written in the Cocker LP under Russell’s name something like the greatest or some such high schooler stuff.
Anyway, back to the show, Russell made it to the stage with the help of a cane. He gained a few pounds, but who hasn’t, it started out a bit stiff because Russell’s voice was not warmed up, I figured out he was singing “Delta Lady.” His other songs last night included “Prince of Peace,” “Wild Horses,” “Out in the Woods,” “Hummingbird,” Prince of Peace,” “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry,” “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall,” “Stranger in a Strange Land,” “Jumping Jack Flash,” and a few others. I came so close to not going. The concert I really wanted to see, but I didn’t have my driver’s license yet and no one who had their license was allowed to drive all the way down to Long Beach. Of course that show turned out to be his live LP “Leon Live.”
All in all, it was a nice show and if you’re a Leon Russell fan, I would recommend seeing him if he is in your town.
On The Mark -- Pit Bulls
It was a beautiful Monday morning. The sun was shining, the air was clear, and I was taking a break from work with my daily three-mile walk with my lab dogs, Miles (after Miles Davis) and Cady (after Elizabeth Cady Stanton). Cady, blind as bat from diabetes, was probably enjoying the walk more than Miles because her senses were at full-strength to make up for her lack of sight. Even though we hadn’t completed mile 1 yet, I was already looking forward to the enthusiastic thank you kisses I would be receiving once we arrived back home. Then everything changed in a flash.
I saw them first, across the street from the elementary school we were walking in front of. Three pit bulls on the loose and hyped up like they were on crack. Miles then saw them and Cady “felt” something wasn’t right. For a few seconds we stood silent hoping they would continue on and not see us. But a few seconds later I was flat on my back having been knocked down by one of the pit bulls, its teeth grinding into my calf, meeting bone and (as I would later learn) severing a major nerve in my leg. Miles was being attacked by the other two pit bulls. Heroically, he stopped defending himself against those two dogs and attacked the pit bull attacking me, leaving himself completely open to devastating injuries.
Once I got back on my feet, Miles was once again fighting off all three of them. One was ripping at his back legs. Another had an ear in its teeth trying to rip it off. Another had Miles by the neck. I was kicking and slugging them as hard as I could, to the point of a near heart attack, but I might as well have been hitting a cement wall, the effect it had.
Then one of the pit bulls turned its teeth on me again, knocking me down and attacking my other calf. But the calf wasn’t enough this time and it lunged for my neck as I lay prone. I was able to fend it off for a second with my left hand, but that was long enough for Miles to lunge at this piranha out of water and stop him cold. The beast had no choice but to stop its attack on me and defend itself against Miles, who was once again being viciously attacked on his back legs by the other two pit bulls.
Blood was flying everywhere. People were helplessly crowding around, calling the police. A plumber got out of his truck and came halfway across the street with a pole, then stopped in his tracks and said, “no way I’m getting them mad at me.” I screamed, begging him to throw me the pole, but he climbed in his truck and drove away. Forever a coward.
I then went down for the third time, blood pouring down my legs and from my hands, Miles squealing now with pain, his chest ripped open and hanging to the ground, blood pouring from his neck, ears, eyes, stomach and legs. He was tired, but not beaten. As I tried to get back to my feet Miles attacked again with ferocity that I didn’t even know he possessed. He pinned to the ground the pit that had knocked me down, forcing it onto his back. It was an unbelievable sight. Super powers unleashed. Maybe it was the new energy in the air or exhaustion, I don’t know, but the other two pits gave up and walked off to the side as spectators.
Then I made a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life. At this point, I thought the other dog, beaten and exhausted, would take off, too, so I told Miles to let go, which he did. In a split second the other dog got back on its feet and viciously attacked my poor, sweet, exhausted and life-threateningly injured Miles. It was then I realized this dog was trained to kill or be killed. My continued kicks and slugs had absolutely no impact.
Finally, a brave woman found a long tree branch and chased the remaining pit away. The police finally arrived and witnesses stated that the attack lasted at least 10 minutes, maybe 15. It seemed like an hour to me. People then starting streaming out of houses and the elementary school. A neighbor helped me rush Miles to an emergency vet hospital where he underwent more than 4 hours of surgery.
Miles survived. He spent weeks sitting in a single position, even when sleeping. For 5 days I slept near him feeling helpless as I listened to him cry and groan through the night. Cady, miraculously, didn’t get involved and stayed behind me the entire time. She’s a fighter, and strong as hell, but I’m sure felt helpless not knowing where or what to attack. My neurologist tells me that my left leg may be numb for the rest of my life.
Each day I pet Miles on the head and tell him he’s my hero. And thank him for saving my life.
I walk Miles and Cady with an electric cattle prod in hand now. Maybe once a week. And even that is difficult as I fight the feeling that I’m walking into a war zone, pit bulls behind every bush, ready to attack and maim. A horrible feeling.
I saw them first, across the street from the elementary school we were walking in front of. Three pit bulls on the loose and hyped up like they were on crack. Miles then saw them and Cady “felt” something wasn’t right. For a few seconds we stood silent hoping they would continue on and not see us. But a few seconds later I was flat on my back having been knocked down by one of the pit bulls, its teeth grinding into my calf, meeting bone and (as I would later learn) severing a major nerve in my leg. Miles was being attacked by the other two pit bulls. Heroically, he stopped defending himself against those two dogs and attacked the pit bull attacking me, leaving himself completely open to devastating injuries.
Once I got back on my feet, Miles was once again fighting off all three of them. One was ripping at his back legs. Another had an ear in its teeth trying to rip it off. Another had Miles by the neck. I was kicking and slugging them as hard as I could, to the point of a near heart attack, but I might as well have been hitting a cement wall, the effect it had.
Then one of the pit bulls turned its teeth on me again, knocking me down and attacking my other calf. But the calf wasn’t enough this time and it lunged for my neck as I lay prone. I was able to fend it off for a second with my left hand, but that was long enough for Miles to lunge at this piranha out of water and stop him cold. The beast had no choice but to stop its attack on me and defend itself against Miles, who was once again being viciously attacked on his back legs by the other two pit bulls.
Blood was flying everywhere. People were helplessly crowding around, calling the police. A plumber got out of his truck and came halfway across the street with a pole, then stopped in his tracks and said, “no way I’m getting them mad at me.” I screamed, begging him to throw me the pole, but he climbed in his truck and drove away. Forever a coward.
I then went down for the third time, blood pouring down my legs and from my hands, Miles squealing now with pain, his chest ripped open and hanging to the ground, blood pouring from his neck, ears, eyes, stomach and legs. He was tired, but not beaten. As I tried to get back to my feet Miles attacked again with ferocity that I didn’t even know he possessed. He pinned to the ground the pit that had knocked me down, forcing it onto his back. It was an unbelievable sight. Super powers unleashed. Maybe it was the new energy in the air or exhaustion, I don’t know, but the other two pits gave up and walked off to the side as spectators.
Then I made a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life. At this point, I thought the other dog, beaten and exhausted, would take off, too, so I told Miles to let go, which he did. In a split second the other dog got back on its feet and viciously attacked my poor, sweet, exhausted and life-threateningly injured Miles. It was then I realized this dog was trained to kill or be killed. My continued kicks and slugs had absolutely no impact.
Finally, a brave woman found a long tree branch and chased the remaining pit away. The police finally arrived and witnesses stated that the attack lasted at least 10 minutes, maybe 15. It seemed like an hour to me. People then starting streaming out of houses and the elementary school. A neighbor helped me rush Miles to an emergency vet hospital where he underwent more than 4 hours of surgery.
Miles survived. He spent weeks sitting in a single position, even when sleeping. For 5 days I slept near him feeling helpless as I listened to him cry and groan through the night. Cady, miraculously, didn’t get involved and stayed behind me the entire time. She’s a fighter, and strong as hell, but I’m sure felt helpless not knowing where or what to attack. My neurologist tells me that my left leg may be numb for the rest of my life.
Each day I pet Miles on the head and tell him he’s my hero. And thank him for saving my life.
I walk Miles and Cady with an electric cattle prod in hand now. Maybe once a week. And even that is difficult as I fight the feeling that I’m walking into a war zone, pit bulls behind every bush, ready to attack and maim. A horrible feeling.
Posted by On The Mark
On The Mark -- Pit Bulls
It was a beautiful Monday morning. The sun was shining, the air was clear, and I was taking a break from work with my usual three-mile walk with my lab dogs, Miles (after Miles Davis) and Cady (after Elizabeth Cady Stanton). Cady, blind as bat from diabetes, was probably enjoying the walk more than Miles because her senses were at full-strength to make up for her lack of sight. Even though we hadn’t completed mile 1 yet, I was already looking forward to the enthusiastic thank you kisses I would be receiving once we arrived back home. Then everything changed in a flash.
I saw them first, across the street from the elementary school we were walking in front of. Three pit bulls on the loose and hyped up like they were on crack. Miles then saw them and Cady “felt” something wasn’t right. For a few seconds we stood silent hoping they would continue on and not see us. But a few seconds later I was flat on my back having been knocked down by one of the pit bulls, it’s teeth grinding into my calf, meeting bone and (as I would later learn) severing a major nerve in my leg. Miles was being attacked by the other two pit bulls. Heroically, he stopped defending himself against those two dogs and attacked the pit bull attacking me, leaving himself completely open to devastating injuries.
Once I got back on my feet, Miles was once again fighting off all three of them. One was ripping at his back legs. Another had an ear in its teeth trying to rip it off. Another had Miles by the neck. I was kicking and slugging them as hard as I could, to the point of a near heart attack, but I might as well have been hitting a cement wall, the effect it had.
Then one of the pit bulls turned its teeth on me again, knocking me down and attacking my other calf. But the calf wasn’t enough this time and it lunged for my neck as I lay prone. I was able to fend it off for a second with my left hand, but that was long enough for Miles to lunge at this piranha out of water and stop him cold. The beast had no choice but to stop its attack on me and defend itself against Miles, who was once again being viciously attacked on his back legs by the other two pit bulls.
Blood was flying everywhere. People were helplessly crowding around, calling the police. A plumber got out of his truck and came halfway across the street with a pole, then stopped in his tracks and said, “no way I’m getting them mad at me.” I screamed, begging him to throw me the pole, but he climbed in his truck and drove away. Forever a coward.
I then went down for the third time, blood pouring down my legs and from my hands, Miles squealing now with pain, his chest ripped open and hanging to the ground, blood pouring from his neck, ears, eyes, stomach and legs. He was tired, but not beaten. As I tried to get back to my feet Miles attacked again with ferocity that I didn’t even know he possessed. He pinned to the ground the pit that had knocked me down, forcing it onto his back. It was an unbelievable sight. Super powers unleashed. Maybe it was the new energy in the air or exhaustion, I don’t know, but the other two pits gave up and walked off to the side as spectators.
Then I made a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life. At this point, I thought the other dog, beaten and exhausted, would take off, too, so I told Miles to let go, which he did. In a split second the other dog got back on its feet and viciously attacked my poor, sweet, exhausted and life-threateningly injured Miles. It was then I realized this dog was trained to kill or be killed. My continued kicks and slugs had absolutely no impact.
Finally, a brave woman found a long tree branch and chased the remaining pit away. The police finally arrived and witnesses stated that the attack lasted at least 10 minutes, maybe 15. It seemed like an hour to me. People then starting streaming out of houses and the elementary school. A neighbor helped me rush Miles to an emergency vet hospital where he underwent more than 4 hours of surgery.
Miles survived. He spent weeks sitting in a single position, even when sleeping. For 5 days I slept near him feeling helpless as I listened to him cry and groan through the night. Cady, miraculously, didn’t get involved and stayed behind me the entire time. She’s a fighter, and strong as hell, but I’m sure felt helpless not knowing where or what to attack. My neurologist tells me that my left leg may be numb for the rest of my life.
Each day I pet Miles on the head and tell him he’s my hero. And thank him for saving my life.
I walk Miles and Cady with an electric cattle prod in hand now. Maybe once a week. And even that is difficult as I fight the feeling that I’m walking into a war zone, pit bulls behind every bush, ready to attack and maim. A horrible feeling.
I saw them first, across the street from the elementary school we were walking in front of. Three pit bulls on the loose and hyped up like they were on crack. Miles then saw them and Cady “felt” something wasn’t right. For a few seconds we stood silent hoping they would continue on and not see us. But a few seconds later I was flat on my back having been knocked down by one of the pit bulls, it’s teeth grinding into my calf, meeting bone and (as I would later learn) severing a major nerve in my leg. Miles was being attacked by the other two pit bulls. Heroically, he stopped defending himself against those two dogs and attacked the pit bull attacking me, leaving himself completely open to devastating injuries.
Once I got back on my feet, Miles was once again fighting off all three of them. One was ripping at his back legs. Another had an ear in its teeth trying to rip it off. Another had Miles by the neck. I was kicking and slugging them as hard as I could, to the point of a near heart attack, but I might as well have been hitting a cement wall, the effect it had.
Then one of the pit bulls turned its teeth on me again, knocking me down and attacking my other calf. But the calf wasn’t enough this time and it lunged for my neck as I lay prone. I was able to fend it off for a second with my left hand, but that was long enough for Miles to lunge at this piranha out of water and stop him cold. The beast had no choice but to stop its attack on me and defend itself against Miles, who was once again being viciously attacked on his back legs by the other two pit bulls.
Blood was flying everywhere. People were helplessly crowding around, calling the police. A plumber got out of his truck and came halfway across the street with a pole, then stopped in his tracks and said, “no way I’m getting them mad at me.” I screamed, begging him to throw me the pole, but he climbed in his truck and drove away. Forever a coward.
I then went down for the third time, blood pouring down my legs and from my hands, Miles squealing now with pain, his chest ripped open and hanging to the ground, blood pouring from his neck, ears, eyes, stomach and legs. He was tired, but not beaten. As I tried to get back to my feet Miles attacked again with ferocity that I didn’t even know he possessed. He pinned to the ground the pit that had knocked me down, forcing it onto his back. It was an unbelievable sight. Super powers unleashed. Maybe it was the new energy in the air or exhaustion, I don’t know, but the other two pits gave up and walked off to the side as spectators.
Then I made a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life. At this point, I thought the other dog, beaten and exhausted, would take off, too, so I told Miles to let go, which he did. In a split second the other dog got back on its feet and viciously attacked my poor, sweet, exhausted and life-threateningly injured Miles. It was then I realized this dog was trained to kill or be killed. My continued kicks and slugs had absolutely no impact.
Finally, a brave woman found a long tree branch and chased the remaining pit away. The police finally arrived and witnesses stated that the attack lasted at least 10 minutes, maybe 15. It seemed like an hour to me. People then starting streaming out of houses and the elementary school. A neighbor helped me rush Miles to an emergency vet hospital where he underwent more than 4 hours of surgery.
Miles survived. He spent weeks sitting in a single position, even when sleeping. For 5 days I slept near him feeling helpless as I listened to him cry and groan through the night. Cady, miraculously, didn’t get involved and stayed behind me the entire time. She’s a fighter, and strong as hell, but I’m sure felt helpless not knowing where or what to attack. My neurologist tells me that my left leg may be numb for the rest of my life.
Each day I pet Miles on the head and tell him he’s my hero. And thank him for saving my life.
I walk Miles and Cady with an electric cattle prod in hand now. Maybe once a week. And even that is difficult as I fight the feeling that I’m walking into a war zone, pit bulls behind every bush, ready to attack and maim. A horrible feeling.
Sopranos Ending
True creativity often starts where language ends.
Arthur Koestler (1905–83), novelist, essayist
There seems to be two camps regarding the abrupt ending of the Sopranos. Damn few of us out there were okay with the ending. Maureen Dowd in her column yesterday wrote
about David Chase that he “…gave us a gimmicky and unsatisfying film-school-style blackout for an end to his mob saga, a stunt one notch above “It was all a dream.” It was the TV equivalent of one of those design-your-own-mug places.”
We are a cynical bunch and rightly so, we can’t trust our government, CEOs, oil companies, stockbrokers, so why should we believe Chase when he says he does not intend to make a movie? I believe him. What else could he do except completely ruin the entire Sopranos franchise with a movie that bombs.
The cut to black had me reaching for the remote control thinking that the cable had go out. A friend who didn’t like the ending also thought there was a power interruption or the Chinese shot down another satellite, which had that been the case, probably would have truly been an act of war as opposed to the now you see them, now you don’t WMDs.
We shared Tony’s continual anxiety and distrust those last few minutes as he waited for his family to arrive for dinner, it was our last supper with them. As with most short stories, the ending just arrives to denote that life goes on. Tony won. If he had died, my guess is the ending would have been white. And, that little chat on the boat with his bud about how the end will arrive, was for us not Tony. He’ll rebuild the family, bed good looking women who are enthralled with his power, and collect his envelops of cash, makes one what to be a “made guy.”
Arthur Koestler (1905–83), novelist, essayist
There seems to be two camps regarding the abrupt ending of the Sopranos. Damn few of us out there were okay with the ending. Maureen Dowd in her column yesterday wrote
about David Chase that he “…gave us a gimmicky and unsatisfying film-school-style blackout for an end to his mob saga, a stunt one notch above “It was all a dream.” It was the TV equivalent of one of those design-your-own-mug places.”We are a cynical bunch and rightly so, we can’t trust our government, CEOs, oil companies, stockbrokers, so why should we believe Chase when he says he does not intend to make a movie? I believe him. What else could he do except completely ruin the entire Sopranos franchise with a movie that bombs.
The cut to black had me reaching for the remote control thinking that the cable had go out. A friend who didn’t like the ending also thought there was a power interruption or the Chinese shot down another satellite, which had that been the case, probably would have truly been an act of war as opposed to the now you see them, now you don’t WMDs.
We shared Tony’s continual anxiety and distrust those last few minutes as he waited for his family to arrive for dinner, it was our last supper with them. As with most short stories, the ending just arrives to denote that life goes on. Tony won. If he had died, my guess is the ending would have been white. And, that little chat on the boat with his bud about how the end will arrive, was for us not Tony. He’ll rebuild the family, bed good looking women who are enthralled with his power, and collect his envelops of cash, makes one what to be a “made guy.”
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Does the white hood come with matching shoes?
My wife was reading about Paris Hilton -- not me. But she passed along a link to the article on Yahoo! because of a quote from "media image consultant" Michael Sands, who opined that Paris Hilton would be forgiven for her transgressions:
"She will become a real Hollywood star from this experience," he said. "If she handles it like a famous person and goes to a military base, visits Walter Reed, then Hollywood will embrace her. It's very forgiving. It's not like she insulted the Jews."
Time for a reader poll: is Sands anti-Semitic? He may be uneducated and sleazy, if his website is any indication.
Read the whole story, if you want to.
"She will become a real Hollywood star from this experience," he said. "If she handles it like a famous person and goes to a military base, visits Walter Reed, then Hollywood will embrace her. It's very forgiving. It's not like she insulted the Jews."
Time for a reader poll: is Sands anti-Semitic? He may be uneducated and sleazy, if his website is any indication.
Read the whole story, if you want to.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Comment Spam:
Politics
Another installment in Toner Mishap's comment spam odyssey. Remember, the opinions expressed are not those of Toner Mishap, but rather culled from a lengthy diatribe recently appended to one of our posts. It's very important to know the enemy, even more so when the enemy is crazy.
Jerry Falwell
Jerry Falwell was a great man who tried to help people understand, and that's why the gods used their media to ridicule him. 911 did happen because you are hedonistic deviates, just like drive-by shootings were punishment for listening to gangster rap.
Bill Clinton
Bill Clinton wasn't impeached because he lied. Bill Clinton wasn't impeached because he was orally copulated. Bill Clinton was impeached because it was 1998. It was end of 20-year war-revelry cycle distraction theater, of which there are many examples; brought to you by the party of the predatory disfavored, the Republican party.
Arnold Schwarzenegger
The Apocalypse (or an Apocalyptic event) will be initiated by an Austrian. When the national referendum to allow foreign-born individuals to run for president is introduced I recommend you DEFY and vote NO!! In the years prior to this vote the gods will send POWERFUL clues suggesting the IMPORTANCE OF DEFIANCE.
Jerry Falwell
Jerry Falwell was a great man who tried to help people understand, and that's why the gods used their media to ridicule him. 911 did happen because you are hedonistic deviates, just like drive-by shootings were punishment for listening to gangster rap.
Bill Clinton
Bill Clinton wasn't impeached because he lied. Bill Clinton wasn't impeached because he was orally copulated. Bill Clinton was impeached because it was 1998. It was end of 20-year war-revelry cycle distraction theater, of which there are many examples; brought to you by the party of the predatory disfavored, the Republican party.
Arnold Schwarzenegger
The Apocalypse (or an Apocalyptic event) will be initiated by an Austrian. When the national referendum to allow foreign-born individuals to run for president is introduced I recommend you DEFY and vote NO!! In the years prior to this vote the gods will send POWERFUL clues suggesting the IMPORTANCE OF DEFIANCE.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Only One Little Drop for Mankind
Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes.
Oscar Wilde (1854–1900), playwright
It was only one little bird dropping, but it was one symbolic leap for how all mankind feels.
It's too bad it wasn't an enormous condor to further bury him in his magnificent desolation.
Oscar Wilde (1854–1900), playwright
It was only one little bird dropping, but it was one symbolic leap for how all mankind feels.
It's too bad it wasn't an enormous condor to further bury him in his magnificent desolation.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Comment Spam:
Generation Y
Another installment in Toner Mishap's comment spam odyssey. Remember, the opinions expressed are not those of Toner Mishap, but rather culled from a lengthy diatribe recently appended to one of our posts. Enjoy today's feature!
Why Generation Y May Be Evil
Twenty-somethings are conditioned to respond positively to magic; they are the ecstasy generation.
This is not by accident. Expect they will be an important generation ("in charge", etc) when the battle between the Anti-Christ and Second Coming of Christ occurs.
This of course will be a 20-year war-revelry cycle distraction theater, and they want these people consumed by the high level of magic that will occur. This generation is The Damned.
You're all going to die PEAKING like you're on X.
Why Generation Y May Be Evil
Twenty-somethings are conditioned to respond positively to magic; they are the ecstasy generation.
This is not by accident. Expect they will be an important generation ("in charge", etc) when the battle between the Anti-Christ and Second Coming of Christ occurs.
This of course will be a 20-year war-revelry cycle distraction theater, and they want these people consumed by the high level of magic that will occur. This generation is The Damned.
You're all going to die PEAKING like you're on X.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Howdy Pilgrim
I'm just an ordinary goddamn American and I talk for all the ordinary goddamn Americans, the butchers and bakers and plumbers. I know these people; I know what they think.
John Wayne (1907-1979), actor
I still don’t feel much like writing lately, a combination of too busy and too tired, but this occasion should not pass without comment.
It’s the 100th anniversary of John Wayne would have been 100 today, if he had not died at 72 of stomach cancer in June 1979. The sad thing is that Wayne was just an actor who played heroic roles and people view him as a historic figure. Ask about a real historical figure and most young people would have no idea.
I made a reference to General Sherman riding through Atlanta and someone close to 30 years of age had no idea who I was talking about, and this person had a college education.
Wayne, born Marion Robert Morrison, had a career that spanned more than 170 films. He didn't win an Academy Award until 1970 for his performance in "True Grit." He was nominated twice earlier — for best actor in 1949's "Sands of Iwo Jima" and best picture for 1960's "The Alamo," which he directed and produced, according to an Associated Press story.
John Wayne (1907-1979), actor
I still don’t feel much like writing lately, a combination of too busy and too tired, but this occasion should not pass without comment.
It’s the 100th anniversary of John Wayne would have been 100 today, if he had not died at 72 of stomach cancer in June 1979. The sad thing is that Wayne was just an actor who played heroic roles and people view him as a historic figure. Ask about a real historical figure and most young people would have no idea.
I made a reference to General Sherman riding through Atlanta and someone close to 30 years of age had no idea who I was talking about, and this person had a college education.
Wayne, born Marion Robert Morrison, had a career that spanned more than 170 films. He didn't win an Academy Award until 1970 for his performance in "True Grit." He was nominated twice earlier — for best actor in 1949's "Sands of Iwo Jima" and best picture for 1960's "The Alamo," which he directed and produced, according to an Associated Press story.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Comment Spam:
Around the World
Another installment in Toner Mishap's comment spam odyssey. Remember, the opinions expressed are not those of Toner Mishap, but rather culled from a lengthy diatribe recently appended to one of our posts. Enjoy today's feature!
Austria
Of course Hitler was Austrian. An Austrian-born leading a foreign nation. Glock, maker of the semi-automatic gun favored by black street gangs such as the Bloods and the Crips, is Austrian. RedBull Energy drink, Budweiser... both Austrian. What role do Austrians play in the cigarette industry?
Italy
Italy's boot is a clue showing the god's intent with the Romans AND their active involvement. The gods micromanaged the Eutruscans into their role as Romans, just as they micromanaged me with Artificial Intelligence into the role they scripted for this Situation.
Oshkosh
Oshkosh is a clue just as Lake Michigan and Green Bay are clues. Oshkosh is the ejaculate clue. Life springs forth from this region. Expect your traditional Second Coming of Christ to come from the region. The gods dirtied me up but the Second Coming will be squeeky [sic] clean.
Austria
Of course Hitler was Austrian. An Austrian-born leading a foreign nation. Glock, maker of the semi-automatic gun favored by black street gangs such as the Bloods and the Crips, is Austrian. RedBull Energy drink, Budweiser... both Austrian. What role do Austrians play in the cigarette industry?
Italy
Italy's boot is a clue showing the god's intent with the Romans AND their active involvement. The gods micromanaged the Eutruscans into their role as Romans, just as they micromanaged me with Artificial Intelligence into the role they scripted for this Situation.
Oshkosh
Oshkosh is a clue just as Lake Michigan and Green Bay are clues. Oshkosh is the ejaculate clue. Life springs forth from this region. Expect your traditional Second Coming of Christ to come from the region. The gods dirtied me up but the Second Coming will be squeeky [sic] clean.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Comment Spam:
How to Pray
Toner Mishap got some awesome comment spam on the Misanthrope's recent post "Haunted" -- so awesome, in fact, that I'm going to break down the tens of thousands of character into nice digestible bites for you now and then. Today's tidbit:
How to Pray
1. I'm sorry for what I've done wrong.
2. I don't want to succumb to temptation and make any more mistakes.
3. I want to fix my problems.
4. Please don't hurt me.
How to Pray
1. I'm sorry for what I've done wrong.
2. I don't want to succumb to temptation and make any more mistakes.
3. I want to fix my problems.
4. Please don't hurt me.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Bush Didn't Say It,
But It Sure Sounds Like Him
You can't spell "soldier" without "die."
So quit whining and get back to Iraq.
[Click here to get a peek at the back, too.]
And I hope it goes without saying that Toner Mishap proudly supports our troops, and their right to life.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
In an interview for the June issue of Harper's Bazaar, Hilton says: "I get in more trouble just because of who I am. The cops do it all the time. They'll just pull me over to hit on me."
"It's really annoying. They're like, `What's your phone number? Want to go to dinner?' They won't even give me a ticket. They just pull me over, and the paparazzi, of course, take a picture. All the time. I have so many cops' business cards."
"It's really annoying. They're like, `What's your phone number? Want to go to dinner?' They won't even give me a ticket. They just pull me over, and the paparazzi, of course, take a picture. All the time. I have so many cops' business cards."
Haunted
Based on what you know about him in history books, what do you think Abraham Lincoln would be doing if he were alive today?1) Writing his memoirs of the Civil War.2) Advising the President.3) Desperately clawing at the inside of his coffin.
David Letterman, Late Night talk show host
There are some things one should not attempt to build on their own. For me, it's most anything, but I can only imagine how I would be haunted for the remainer of my days should I ever venture forth and assemble one of these for a loved one (here's hoping I don't have to for many, many years).
A tip of the hat to Wind in the Wire.
David Letterman, Late Night talk show host
There are some things one should not attempt to build on their own. For me, it's most anything, but I can only imagine how I would be haunted for the remainer of my days should I ever venture forth and assemble one of these for a loved one (here's hoping I don't have to for many, many years).
A tip of the hat to Wind in the Wire.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Sucker Punched
All fighters are prostitutes and all promoters are pimps.
Larry Holmes, U.S. boxing champion
Everywhere I went on Saturday, okay, I only ran errands to three places, Home Depot, the local meat market to get fish, and BevMo. Everyone was talking about the fight –Floyd Mayweather Jr. vs. Oscar De La Hoya. I gave in and decided to get the Pay Per View. While De La Hoya neglected to use his jab and Mayweather didn’t pack
Larry Holmes, U.S. boxing champion
Everywhere I went on Saturday, okay, I only ran errands to three places, Home Depot, the local meat market to get fish, and BevMo. Everyone was talking about the fight –Floyd Mayweather Jr. vs. Oscar De La Hoya. I gave in and decided to get the Pay Per View. While De La Hoya neglected to use his jab and Mayweather didn’t pack
much of a punch, when it was over I felt like I was sucker punched. I feel 
completely ripped off for buying into the hype.
Both fighters promised to retire after the fight, but I will bet you the next PPV that there will be another fight before the year is out. A reported $23 million for De La Hoya and $12 million or so for Mayweather, I am certain that there will be a rematch. But I can promise you that I will not be fooled a second time. I will hate myself when the next cable bill arrives for this fight. Both the fighters dodged the tough punch Saturday night, but I feel as though I was sucker punched.
completely ripped off for buying into the hype.Both fighters promised to retire after the fight, but I will bet you the next PPV that there will be another fight before the year is out. A reported $23 million for De La Hoya and $12 million or so for Mayweather, I am certain that there will be a rematch. But I can promise you that I will not be fooled a second time. I will hate myself when the next cable bill arrives for this fight. Both the fighters dodged the tough punch Saturday night, but I feel as though I was sucker punched.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Too Many Naked People
You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.
Colette, the pen name of the French novelist Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette 1873 – 1954
Eighteen thousand people in Mexico City stripped and stood around stark naked for photographer Spencer Tunick, a U.S. artist.
Sorry, I am not interested in participating unless I am in the front row. The view from all the other rows is the same and as far as I'm concerned, not pleasant.
Colette, the pen name of the French novelist Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette 1873 – 1954
Eighteen thousand people in Mexico City stripped and stood around stark naked for photographer Spencer Tunick, a U.S. artist.Sorry, I am not interested in participating unless I am in the front row. The view from all the other rows is the same and as far as I'm concerned, not pleasant.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
In-Laws In Peril
This post was sparked by a phone call from my mother-in-law so, to be fair, I should dedicate it to her. However, given that I'm now going to insult the heck out of my in-laws, I'll leave this dedication anonymous.
Here's the thing: I really like my in-laws, and normally don't go in for bashing them.
Hmm. OK, it has happened on occasion.
But today I got a phone call, as I've already told you, from my mother-in-law and... well, here it is:
B2: [Knowing it's my mother-in-law by the caller ID display, I nonetheless always feign ignorance of the caller's identity] Hello?
Mother-in-Law: [Even more morose than usual, as though she's just seen a family of puppies run over by a bus full of dead orphans] Hi, [B2]. I'm still here with your dad at Kaiser, and I went to get a Pepsi, but... have you seen your dad?
B2: [Knowing that they have been at the hospital again, since they hang out there on weekends now that my father-in-law has beaten cancer. It gives them something to do] Uhh... no? Isn't he there with you?
Mother-in-Law: I went to get a Pepsi, and when I came back he was gone and I checked all the rooms and I went into the men's room but he's not around and I just don't know where he could be.
B2: Did you ask a doctor or a nurse?
Mother-in-Law: They said he was here, but he's not.
B2: Did you ask anyone else? How many doctors or nurses did you ask?
Mother-in-Law: He was right here, and I left to get a drink, and I just don't know where he is. Did you pick him up?
B2: No.
Mother-in-Law: ... O.K. Well... if you see him...
B2: Did he take the car?
Mother-in-Law: I don't know. If you see him, or if he calls, let me know.
B2: OK. Bye?
Mother-in-Law: Bye.
I feel it necessary to add (it heightens the dramatic tension to have left this detail until now) that neither is that old, nor feeble, and have never shown more than the usual in-law craziness (too many pills, salon appointments being classified as an essential, no food in their pantry). So is this just the beginning of the slide into dementia?
I mean, this is real old people stuff, right? Wandering away fom the hospital? Mother-in-law misplacing father-in-law? He showed up eventually; he said he's been down the street at a Quizno's, but still -- this is just not what I should be hearing, right?
[Promotional consideration provided by PepsiCo and Quizno's.]
Here's the thing: I really like my in-laws, and normally don't go in for bashing them.
Hmm. OK, it has happened on occasion.
But today I got a phone call, as I've already told you, from my mother-in-law and... well, here it is:
B2: [Knowing it's my mother-in-law by the caller ID display, I nonetheless always feign ignorance of the caller's identity] Hello?
Mother-in-Law: [Even more morose than usual, as though she's just seen a family of puppies run over by a bus full of dead orphans] Hi, [B2]. I'm still here with your dad at Kaiser, and I went to get a Pepsi, but... have you seen your dad?
B2: [Knowing that they have been at the hospital again, since they hang out there on weekends now that my father-in-law has beaten cancer. It gives them something to do] Uhh... no? Isn't he there with you?
Mother-in-Law: I went to get a Pepsi, and when I came back he was gone and I checked all the rooms and I went into the men's room but he's not around and I just don't know where he could be.
B2: Did you ask a doctor or a nurse?
Mother-in-Law: They said he was here, but he's not.
B2: Did you ask anyone else? How many doctors or nurses did you ask?
Mother-in-Law: He was right here, and I left to get a drink, and I just don't know where he is. Did you pick him up?
B2: No.
Mother-in-Law: ... O.K. Well... if you see him...
B2: Did he take the car?
Mother-in-Law: I don't know. If you see him, or if he calls, let me know.
B2: OK. Bye?
Mother-in-Law: Bye.
I feel it necessary to add (it heightens the dramatic tension to have left this detail until now) that neither is that old, nor feeble, and have never shown more than the usual in-law craziness (too many pills, salon appointments being classified as an essential, no food in their pantry). So is this just the beginning of the slide into dementia?
I mean, this is real old people stuff, right? Wandering away fom the hospital? Mother-in-law misplacing father-in-law? He showed up eventually; he said he's been down the street at a Quizno's, but still -- this is just not what I should be hearing, right?
[Promotional consideration provided by PepsiCo and Quizno's.]
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Hey Hey, We’re the Monkees
and You’re Not
A lot of pop music is about stealing pocket money from children.
Ian Anderson, lead singer of Jethro Tull
The Monkees are being kept out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame by Jann Wenner of Rolling Stone magazine, according to Peter Tork as reported in Friday’s Los Angeles Times.
Now that makes me angry. The Monkees were a major band even though they were called the pre-fab-four since the whole idea and series was based on the Beatles’ movies “Help” and “Hard Days Night.” They had several songs they sang and made famous. I would classify the following songs as B-list standards: “I’m a Believer,” “(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone,” “Daydream Believer,” “Last Train to Clarksville” and “Pleasant Valley Sunday.”
Jimi Hendrix opened the Monkees for a few shows. Hendrix jammed with Tork on several occasions, calling him- “The most talented Monkee."
According to Wikipedia the following bands have covered songs made famous by the Monkees:
The Sex Pistols and Minor Threat both recorded versions of "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone." In 1988 Run DMC recorded "Mary, Mary" on their album Tougher Than Leather. Australian indie-rock bands of the 1980s such as Grooveyard ("All The King's Horses"), Prince Vlad & the Gargoyle Impalers ("Mary Mary", "For Pete's Sake" and "Circle Sky") and The Upbeat and The Mexican Spitfires ("Mary Mary") performed Monkees cover versions. The alternative rock group Smash Mouth had a hit with "I'm a Believer" in 2001 (and featured in the blockbuster computer-animated movie Shrek). Japanese popsters Shonen Knife recorded "Daydream Believer.”
To leave the Monkees out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a travesty. Whether they played their own instruments or not, whether they were planned as a joke for a television series misses the point of the influence they had. The group used additional musicians (including Louie Shelton, members of The Byrds and The Association, and Neil Young) throughout their recording career. Additionally, Peter Tork was later one of the musicians on George Harrison's Wonderwall Music, playing Paul McCartney's five-string banjo.
There is too much of rock and roll’s history intertwined with the Monkees to exclude them over some arrogant, purist nonsense when the history of this genre of music is to go against the grain.
Ian Anderson, lead singer of Jethro Tull
The Monkees are being kept out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame by Jann Wenner of Rolling Stone magazine, according to Peter Tork as reported in Friday’s Los Angeles Times.
Now that makes me angry. The Monkees were a major band even though they were called the pre-fab-four since the whole idea and series was based on the Beatles’ movies “Help” and “Hard Days Night.” They had several songs they sang and made famous. I would classify the following songs as B-list standards: “I’m a Believer,” “(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone,” “Daydream Believer,” “Last Train to Clarksville” and “Pleasant Valley Sunday.”
Jimi Hendrix opened the Monkees for a few shows. Hendrix jammed with Tork on several occasions, calling him- “The most talented Monkee."
According to Wikipedia the following bands have covered songs made famous by the Monkees:
The Sex Pistols and Minor Threat both recorded versions of "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone." In 1988 Run DMC recorded "Mary, Mary" on their album Tougher Than Leather. Australian indie-rock bands of the 1980s such as Grooveyard ("All The King's Horses"), Prince Vlad & the Gargoyle Impalers ("Mary Mary", "For Pete's Sake" and "Circle Sky") and The Upbeat and The Mexican Spitfires ("Mary Mary") performed Monkees cover versions. The alternative rock group Smash Mouth had a hit with "I'm a Believer" in 2001 (and featured in the blockbuster computer-animated movie Shrek). Japanese popsters Shonen Knife recorded "Daydream Believer.”
To leave the Monkees out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a travesty. Whether they played their own instruments or not, whether they were planned as a joke for a television series misses the point of the influence they had. The group used additional musicians (including Louie Shelton, members of The Byrds and The Association, and Neil Young) throughout their recording career. Additionally, Peter Tork was later one of the musicians on George Harrison's Wonderwall Music, playing Paul McCartney's five-string banjo.
There is too much of rock and roll’s history intertwined with the Monkees to exclude them over some arrogant, purist nonsense when the history of this genre of music is to go against the grain.
Friday, May 04, 2007
On The Mark -- Chasin' a Dream
I had the pleasure of being in Studio A at the legendary Capitol Records Studios last night to hear a live performance by a new artist, Michael Cialdella. Michael, performing in the same studio where the likes of Sinatra, Martin and other greats made their albums, and where The Beatles held their first press conference in the U.S., is a total inspiration. Knowing that he wanted to be a musician practically from the day he was born, he gave up a successful career as an entertainment lawyer a few years ago to pursue his true dream.
Recently, with the help of a two-time Grammy-winning producer and musicians who played with artists such as James Taylor, Michael produced his own album and was named Best New Artist at the New Artist Music Awards in Hollywood. He's distributing his music today the way many musicians will be distributing their music tomorrow. His website, created by a Newport Beach, Calif. company called Vimation, is already light years ahead of what any other musician is doing -- and it's truly interactive.
Michael is an inspiration to many as he chases his dream. Just a few years ago he was sitting in his apartment playing songs to an audience of one. Today he's playing in the same studio as the Chairman of the Board.
Posted by On The Mark
All aboard!
This kid's inflatable party rental item just seemed wrong in some way... sort of indefinable... no, wait -- it's because it looks like a giant penis!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Turd Blossom Learned
Dirty Tricks From the Masters
For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
William Shakespeare (1564–1616), writer
This is a 1972 CBS news segment on Richard M. Nixon’s reelection campaign reported by Dan Rather. See how many infamous names Karl Rove interacted with and how many you recognize from the Watergate era.
William Shakespeare (1564–1616), writer
This is a 1972 CBS news segment on Richard M. Nixon’s reelection campaign reported by Dan Rather. See how many infamous names Karl Rove interacted with and how many you recognize from the Watergate era.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
What Sort of Movie are You?
All film directors, whether famous or obscure, regard themselves as misunderstood or underrated. Because of that, they all lie. They’re obliged to overstate their own importance.
François Truffaut (1932–84), film director
Fairly certain that this is not me, but see what kind of movie you are. Tip of the hat to Diary of a Hope Fiend.
François Truffaut (1932–84), film director
Fairly certain that this is not me, but see what kind of movie you are. Tip of the hat to Diary of a Hope Fiend.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
The Future of Newspapers
My Prediction
The lowest form of popular culture — lack of information, misinformation, disinformation, and a contempt for the truth or the reality of most people’s lives — has overrun real journalism. Today, ordinary Americans are being stuffed with garbage.
Carl Bernstein, journalist
Newspapers continue to do more stupid things besides downsizing newsrooms they are now eliminating book review sections. An alarming opinion piece by novelist Michael Connelly in the rapidly declining newspaper known as the Los Angeles Times points out that
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution announced the eliminate of the book review editor; the Chicago Tribune (which owns the LATimes unfortunately until Sam Zell takes ownership in October) is moving its book review section to Saturday; the Raleigh News & Observer, the book editor position was cut; The Dallas Morning News’ book editor quit rather than deal with cutbacks; and the LATimes combined its book review with the opinion section. Connelly points out that this only further serves to say that reading is unimportant today.
I predict that most newspapers will be online during the week and offer delivery of weekend newspapers maybe Friday through Sunday, but most likely Sunday only. Then that too will eventually fade away.
Carl Bernstein, journalist
Newspapers continue to do more stupid things besides downsizing newsrooms they are now eliminating book review sections. An alarming opinion piece by novelist Michael Connelly in the rapidly declining newspaper known as the Los Angeles Times points out that
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution announced the eliminate of the book review editor; the Chicago Tribune (which owns the LATimes unfortunately until Sam Zell takes ownership in October) is moving its book review section to Saturday; the Raleigh News & Observer, the book editor position was cut; The Dallas Morning News’ book editor quit rather than deal with cutbacks; and the LATimes combined its book review with the opinion section. Connelly points out that this only further serves to say that reading is unimportant today.
I predict that most newspapers will be online during the week and offer delivery of weekend newspapers maybe Friday through Sunday, but most likely Sunday only. Then that too will eventually fade away.
Sunday Filler
two days late
People are interested in birds only inasmuch as they exhibit human behavior—greed and stupidity and anger—and by doing so free us from the unique sorrow of being human.
Douglas Coupland, author
Foreign movies. Why is it that I have to turn the volume up to make sure I don’t miss anything said, when it is all written out for me and I wouldn’t be able to understand a word if it wasn’t? The movie I was watching was Volver with Penélope Cruz, which turned out to be a nice movie.
"Stranger than Fiction." I thoroughly enjoyed this Will Ferrell movie that featured Emma Thompson, along with Maggie Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, and Queen Latifah.
Writing this. I am sitting here in my den trying to think of something to write when I notice several birds flying into the garage. I walk into the garage to kick them out and it’s like an Alfred Hitchcock movie, they came after me, and then left. We have an issue with birds around here; well I have an issue with birds around here. They think they own the place. They have made homes under the eves of the roof, from which I have had to evict them because I am not excited about cleaning up their droppings. Now before you think that I am just mean, we have a little bird feeder on the tree out front, but are they grateful? No. Instead they
attack the windshield wiper’s on wife’s car. I go out there and pull the wipers up to stop them. I tried to get the bird in action, but the digital camera is too slow.
Douglas Coupland, author
Foreign movies. Why is it that I have to turn the volume up to make sure I don’t miss anything said, when it is all written out for me and I wouldn’t be able to understand a word if it wasn’t? The movie I was watching was Volver with Penélope Cruz, which turned out to be a nice movie.
"Stranger than Fiction." I thoroughly enjoyed this Will Ferrell movie that featured Emma Thompson, along with Maggie Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, and Queen Latifah.
Writing this. I am sitting here in my den trying to think of something to write when I notice several birds flying into the garage. I walk into the garage to kick them out and it’s like an Alfred Hitchcock movie, they came after me, and then left. We have an issue with birds around here; well I have an issue with birds around here. They think they own the place. They have made homes under the eves of the roof, from which I have had to evict them because I am not excited about cleaning up their droppings. Now before you think that I am just mean, we have a little bird feeder on the tree out front, but are they grateful? No. Instead they
attack the windshield wiper’s on wife’s car. I go out there and pull the wipers up to stop them. I tried to get the bird in action, but the digital camera is too slow.
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