End of Book 3
[cue music here - below]
But Barack "Barry Oh!" Obama would pick up the damn phone hisself and wake my ass up to tell me how pretty my eyes are and that he was thinking about me. In his smoky, nondescript kind of midwest baritone, he'd mention how the sunset reminded him of me and how he'd like to drop by, but he's no longer in Maryland right now. He's in Wisconsin or Texas or Ohio. But, he'd tell me that I am his America.
Barry Oh! would say, "Baby. I'll be back in November for a little
And, no. No. No! He doesn't just want my vote. That's what Heather and Clair and Bayleen say though. What he really wants is me, and if I could just wait for eight years.... Until after he changes America.
He's counting on me! Barry needs me. Barry, I'm here for you baby. I love you. Call me!
Pre-edit photo by some fellow named phil who didn't copyright this image nor get my name correct for the paper he pap's for.
Oh, hey, uh...do you think you could edit my name out of your middlespace post about Eli Manning? I don't want him to get upset at me when he finds it during his routine Monday morning "Eli Manning" +mope Google search. I sent that to you confidentially.
-Shrimpy Penis Dude
"You know who should be fired? Whoever green-lighted using Eli Manning for those watch commercials. Were they trying to appeal to the mope demographic or do they just never watch football? [Watch executive] "I hear there's a guy named Manning who plays at the football game that people are talking about! Get me Manning!"
I have to assume that the watch is soft, whiny, and inaccurate."
"Maybe the Giants Should All Wear Citizen Watches: Immediately after Eli Manning fumbled against the Bears, Fox cut to a commercial that featured the Giants' quarterback. "Eli Manning is unstoppable, just like a Citizen watch," the voice-over intoned."
- Gregg Easterbrook
© 2007 tKoL, of course
It's a song about how Jerry Hsu saves the world from alien invasion at the 2012 Beijing Olympics. You know, total cliche.
Baby where are you
How does your mother feel about
what you do
and all of your relatives
remembered in furniture
this was your uncles
this was your grandfathers
way back in China
but all that's behind ya
most of them died there
but what now should you care?
ride jerry ride
in 2012 when the Martians and elves
united in forces and rode in on horses
to the Beijing Olympics the sky full of space ships
Announcing their mission and demanding submission
We mortals all cowered to their outer space powers
They burned all the soil and took all the oil
And moved us to grottoes underground spots of
Toil and oppression forced written confessions
Denouncing our species knee deep in feces
Lit fires in patterns to our allies on Saturn
We needed a messenger a pony expressenger
We needed a hero with no cause for fear oh
Baby where are you
Come save us now
From Martian doom
ride jerry ride
This whole things should be a lyric.
At the end say "Wait! Listen to this guitar!"
Uninvited, the authorities or those deputized by the authorities will look into my formerly private-like spaces and, working against a list they've created, inform me of what could become a problem for me. Huh?
Montgomery County Police Employ Post Card Initiative for Theft from Vehicle PreventionQuestion #1: What sort of database will my vehicle information (place observed, items observed, time observed) be stored in?
On Veteran’s Day they monitored approximately 500 cars and found approximately 300 had items visible. These items included: iPods, purses, money, cell phones, brief cases, and portable Global Positioning Systems.
The owners of these vehicles will receive a post card to provide the date the vehicle was observed, a description of vehicle, and where it was seen. The items that were visible will be checked from a list of possible items that may be left in a vehicle. The postcard ends with the following message: “In an effort to reduce the thefts from automobiles, the Montgomery County Police Department is asking that in the future, you please secure your personal property out of sight in the glove compartment, console, or trunk.”
Question #2: How long will this information reside in government database?
Question #3: Who has access to this database?
Question #4: Can citizens opt out of said program?
Question #5: If I report a property crime, will the authorities lecture or refuse to service based on "you were warned" criteria?
Question #6: Is this constitutional?
"Put a giant dildo, a box of rubber gloves, a hamster cage and a ukulele on your back seat. Let them check that off their little list." - [clicky]
Those are two elements that make the 12.17 issue of the NYer very good. But the following hidden-in-plain-view-gem will learn your ass something. Thus: semi-monster.
Most people I know would automatically skip this:
How a rare statue of Aphrodite became the
focus of the fight over antiquities, and led to
the fall of a Getty Museum curator.
"It hasn't been surpassed. There are other things that can be equally good, but it's never been surpassed in terms of artistic achievement....Amen.
But if we don't show these things, and we don't interpret them, and we don't use them to educate people, what are they surrounded by? Plastic and bad design and things that have no aesthetic quality at all."
- Marion True, former curator, Getty
It was funny at first; the "Mac" guy and the "PC" guy. We all got it. It then became arrogant and self-righteous, which isn't so bad. My friend James just typed "the arrogance of Mac" this morning. Then it became just downright mean but we didn't care since it was mean towards Micorsoft.
Now, it's stupid. You've taken an effective and cute ad concept and rounded the bases while jumping the sharks. We're over it. You remember us, your loyal base, the kids who bought Macintosh computers in 1984, 1987, 1990, 1993, 1996, 2000, 2002, 2005, and 2007.
You hurt your brand when you turn yourselves into a charactiture. That's bearable. But now, you've just pissed me off.
I know it's a business and you are in the business of making tons of cash. I get that.
But, this...this is one of the last straws. Especially when I wanted to read the NYT:
[click to enlarge]
Yawn. You're Wal-Mart to me now.
"That stuff IS real corny to [ponder] now and around my "legit" musician friends I really don't talk about it because they wouldn't get it but dude, we were basically, Michael Jordan, Joe Montana, and Babe Ruth. We were among the best players in the WORLD who were playing in one of the best groups in the WORLD. There were maybe 50 or 60 other people in the WORLD who could do, as a group, what we did. That, to me, is some deep stuff in retrospect.The arrogance. We were a cocky fucking drumline!!!"
I remember how absolutely devastated I was when we lost. Feeling like it was all for nothing. It hurt so bad. I have never hurt that way before or since. I remember you telling me "You better hold you head up! You are in the Santa Clara Vanguard drumline". That always stuck with me. Your strength in the face of such bitter, stifling, heart wrenching disappointment. At that age. That is huge!!!
- JT via email
"Exxcuuuuuse me for wanting to protect some innocent person's feelings before they realize that the truth of life is pain and loneliness and downright bottom-of-the
-barrel depression. Trying not to rain on parades here.
Or [dripping with sarcasm just so you know], I'm so sorry I don't want to get fired from my job because I told you something personal that I thought wouldn't be funny on the goddamn Internet! Pardon me!We can't all not give a fuck like you. For some of us OCD = obsessively worrying about what was said and done in life and who might be offended.
Maybe we all can't be famous position-maintaining bloggers for Viacom, you sell-out piece of crap!"
*****NAME WITHHELD BY REQUEST*****
Rick Ankiel √
David Bell √
Gary Bennett Jr.
Barry Bonds √
Kevin Brown √
Ken Caminiti √
Jose Canseco √
Roger Clemens √
Lenny Dykstra √
Eric Gagne √
Jason Giambi √
Jason Grimsley √
Jerry Hairston Jr.
David Justice √
Chuck Knoblauch √
Paul Lo Duca
Gary Matthews Jr.
Denny Neagle √
Andy Pettitte √
John Rocker √
Benito Santiago √
Gary Sheffield √
David Segui √
Miguel Tejada √
Mo Vaughn √
Rondell White √
Matt Williams √
Gregg Zaun √
√ - Denotes players I'd still draft for my all-steroid all-star team. And, they'd kick the hell out of your non-steroid all-star team. I don't care. It's their bodies. These guys did a lot of good for the game; made a lot of people happy (and quite a few filthy rich). Am I missing anyone?
I don't care.
Maybe that mope KGJ should have tried something rather than wash out every season.
"None of us reminded her that Monica had died of a terminal illness, as, in a way, that didn’t matter anymore. The point was that she was gone, and our lives would never be the same: we were people who knew people who died. This is to say that we had been touched by tragedy, and had been made special by it. By all appearances, I was devastated, but in fact I had never been so happy in my life.
The next time someone died, it was a true friend, a young woman named Dana, who was hit by a car during our first year of college. My grief was genuine, yet still, no matter how hard I fought, there was an element of showmanship to it, the hope that someone might say, “You look like you just lost your best friend.”"
- David Sedaris, Journey Into Night
But, and holy shit, I am really done with your edits! I've now had several people ask me to edit my postings so they don't get in some kind of perceived trouble. What?!
Here're the problems I'm having with this:
- People should know by now that if they send it, it might get posted. That's not evident yet? Maybe I find your stories interesting, poignant, and funny. Or, maybe I find them just plain stupid (but, I'm trying to be nice).
- People should know that I make most of this shit up (see disclaimer). You may write, "The sun is yellow" and I may post, "These sores on my bum cause such a horrible itch." See how that works?
- Nobody is reading this crap. Just like nobody was listening to the podcast. Just like nobody listens to the records. Just like nobody looks at the pictures. There are more than six and a half billion people on this planet. No one really gives a shit.
But when Hypothetical Edit Requester #2 asked, I found myself somewhere between Shocked Avenue and Horrified Street. I was all like, "Whaaaaat?!" [ <-- in the manner of Philly Boy Roy ]
Lastly, when Not-Real Edit Requester #3 asked, I just ran out of steam (however there was enough steam for this rant). I had to say, "C'mon!" [ And get another few beautiful positions out of the rant ]
Look people, this is the pros. This is a long-running, award-winning, income-generating Web Log. I've got a contract. I have minimum positions to maintain. I drop product placements for sweet, sweet cash (posting from Mayorga Coffee Roasters, Rockville!).
There is a bellwether though. And when the bellwether says, "Oooh. Can you edit that part about my herpes because my boss might sneeze on his computer and land on your site and murder me because of the, you know, the herpes thing?" then I'm closing shop. I am 2/3rds ready to close this thing up.
We're sitting at two strikes, bottom of the ninth, one run back. Read carefully: If you send it. It might get posted in some part if not whole.
Get off my phone!
I need your opinion because people around here are making me feel bitter, mean, and old.
Yesterday on the elevator at work -- had just purchased lunch and had my iPod® on, loud. I'm clearly listening to music, loudly. I wanted to listen to music. That's why I had my iPod® on and it was on loud. Got it?
Woman gets on the elevator, I'm holding my lunch (and listening to my iPod®, loud). This is my private moment.
This woman fucking starts talking to me. Since obviously I couldn't hear her I had to take off my earphones to hear her stupid ass question. Turns out, she was asking me where I got my salad.
It woulda been different if she was asking me a worthwhile elevator question like:
"Excuse me, do you happen to know what floor X is on?"But interrupting me, when I am clearly giving an obviously social clue that I don't want to talk to anyone including you? I think that her behavior was simply rude, not to mention incredibly annoying.
Or, an I-need-assistance question:
"Sorry for interrupting, because of my infant and her medicine my hands are full, would you mind pressing 10 for me?"
Or, if it was the I'm the cool trailblazer kind of question:
"That music is incredible! Could you please tell me who it is? Can I have your autograph?"
or if it was an emergency situation:
"Oh sweet Jesus, I'm having a heart attack - dial 911! Please for the love of God save me!"
Anyway, I come back and join the work “lunch gang” and I bitch about it to the work lunch gang members. One work lunch gang member whom I’ll call “Billy" was all like, "She was just trying to reach out to you person to person - I don't think that's rude at all. In fact, she was probably trying to make a new social connection for herself and for you. You should consider moments like that as precious in today's greedy, individualistic, me-first culture."
I was all like (in my mind) “Dude, you are way too fucking positive and happy for me. Go away and finish another self-help book you started on “positive self-image” or “loving everyone for who they are as you love yourself,” or go back to your incense-burning cult therapy sessions and tell everyone how much you "appreciate" them, or go *****EDITED BY REQUEST*****. Or, better yet, go fucking blog about it."
So, what's your take?
- Annoyed Worker in Maryland
Ty: Good question and an even better observation.
Hummm.... We do live in an information dense and interaction thin society. This makes for confusion and sometimes desperation. People sometimes work up just enough energy to reach out to find common bonds; common likes and common interests. It seems that elevator woman was simply trying to be more like you if not be you. There was interest in you and in your salad. Perhaps the salad was merely symbolic.
Or maybe that woman was simply retarded. IQ of 77 or some shit. WTF? lady.
Jesus! Do you have to wear a fucking sign now a days that actually says, "LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
Of course she shouldn't have asked you anything. She should not have even trespassed into your space let alone look at your food. That's your food, right? And for her to ask you about your food? What is she looking for? A beatdown? A cap in her ass?!
But, to ignore convention, to trample on norms? To start talking to someone who is blasting loud music with earbuds on? That is inexcusable. Simply unjust. That's ignorant. That is wrong.
Yes, had there been an emergency (heart attack or aneurysm) or if she even needed a bit of assistance (like floor button or information). Only then should this creepy dame have attempted any interaction.
The appropriate response to this woman after you took your 'phones out of your ears would have been to say, in perfect English, "I'm sorry I don't speak English." Then put your 'phones back in and rock out!
Now for your friend "Billy." What can I say? He's probably the type to ignore all the modern social signs, trample on norms and start talking to you when you're stuck on the tarmac at O'Hare International for three hours while you're sitting the middle seat of a 737 en route to a family funeral. Middle of a ice storm. The funeral is in China. Everyone can hear Brutal Truth leaking out of your Bose® noise canceling headphones and you're wearing a sweatshirt that reads, "LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
Billy grin and ask, "Did you get peanuts or almonds?" Because he's "reaching out."
You'd miss your flight because you, several other passengers, the flight attendant, and the pilot would beat the shit out of that guy for being too overly positive.
Listen. You are right. The elevator woman is wrong. Billy is wrong. You are right. I agree with you. That's my take.
Or, your just bitter, mean, and old...like me.
Just a guess.
O.K. look. I have to come clean about a few things.
I am in A huge fucking mess. I'm in the middle of a massive break up. My girlfriend is moving out. It's just a huge mess. I have done everything within my power to never mention my personal relationship in all the time that I have been doing this blog, but considering the situation, I can't dance around it forever.
My life has been in total shambles for a while now. On top of this break-up, I'm also going through a massive depression. My entire family (consisting of three other people total) has gone to all hell. The chance of at least one of us HAVING to move in with another is now 2 : 1. I live daily in a fucking personal hell, and here I am having to do my best to pretend that I've still got my head above water.
I know how depression and misery work. I know that NO ONE wants to hear about how fucked up and down another person is. I know that my blogs go a lot better when I am manic and loving life. That's just it. I don't have a lot to offer in general, but I can promise this. I will ALWAYS be genuine.
So that leaves me in a mess of a situation. Day after Day I face my demons and I face how low my life has sunken. How awful it has become. And day after day I have to write here and try my best to avoid the real life facts.
Biker's have one thing right: FTW.
So here I am. In the fucking muck again. Up to my waste in Dark Water. Going to sleep alone, clutching pillows, waking up to demons, or worse, waking up to the new day.
I've been going through mental highs and lows for a long time. Sometimes they correspond with real life. Sometimes they are connected only to a sick game going on in the mind. It's always real to me, but for years and years and years, I've always just hid away for weeks and weeks at a time until it passed. I would just wait around until I felt healthy and active again. Then I would be able to pull off enough work to get me through troubles that were bound to be up ahead again. But with the blog, I have to try to pull it together every day. I have a hard time faking it. The closest I have come was by posting older pre-fab blogs, like the cult banger one. That is the type of thing I have to do on a day where I couldn't say anything positive if I tried.
Well here I am, and here I stand. Maybe I will just put up pictures on days where I can't pull off anything else. Maybe you know my feeling. It's really hard to work against my mood. My heart and soul. It's hard to show all of your life failures to the world.
So... I was going to write more about theses things that torment me, you know? But I've been thinking a lot about it, and it doesn't make any since for me to sit here telling you about them. You either know what I'm talking about or you don't. If you are the one in a hundred thousand person that IS familiar with it/them, then my heart goes out to you. It's horrible, but you know that.
What a nightmare. Fuck.
And I know all about what scientist and doctors say about this whole thing. I don't agree. At all.
I don't agree that all of us who suffer from waking up to these monsters would ALL hallucinate the same exact thing.
There are a lot of reasons you may want to label me as crazy, but this isn't one of them. This is war, and I have no way of winning it.
So here I am in that Limbo. Fighting an ageless fight and losing it.
But it always makes listening to Mazzy Star that much better. I was going through a phase like this before back in Boston, and it resulted in the gay couple down the street calling my landlord to complain that I had been listening to "Midnight Train to Georgia" on repeat play, full volume all night every night.
So here's to anyone that ever put too much faith in me. I'm sorry that I let you down, but I can only carry so much weight. I just can't be what everyone wants me to be. I can't even be what I want me to be.
OK, that s a really raw posting. It's interesting that I've never been able to just throw it all out like that. Instead I use metaphor, simile, device, and other methods to convey how I've felt.
This political season is shaping up to be either very exciting or extraordinarily annoying. Probably annoying.
Dunno if I'll stick it out or not (depending on how annoying it becomes) because it's such farce; such bullshit.
Who'll be the respective nominee? Who'll win? Who cares!
I have a hard time comprehending that Ike Turner was 76. It's true. Black people don't age [Dave knows a couple of black people].
[clicky von Wiki]
[clicky a la Pitchfork]
The Art of Retouching----------
On Dec 12, 2007 6:30 AM, ty wrote:
The "art" of "retouching".... I suppose; but most commercial photography drives me nuts. I get it, but what's the purpose? I learned some of those techniques...used some of those techniques (like fixing neighbor girl’s chapped lips for Christmas card photos I made). But, this regression to a dishonest mean?
Which is why I really like super-realism. Why I try to shoot w/minimal retouching (mostly contrast corrections only - in general).
Like here [clicky], I could clean that nose just as easy as snapping magic Photoshop fingers. But, that nose is priceless.
Like Kern and Naz:
On Dec 12, 2007 10:56 AM, Ricky wrote:
I like the website because, for me, it unmasks the frauds that show up in magazines and online. I'm not that tuned in to retouching so a lot of times I take what I see in photos at face value. Whoops.
Your comments highlight another issue though. I suspect what you're reacting against is not the tool of retouching. It's just a tool. Just yesterday you were using a tool (fuzzy focus) to create the illusion of miniaturization - a deviation from the real world. I suspect what you're reacting against is this guy's ends rather than his means. His ends are to create a unrealistic and unattainable beauty (Bigger Boobs! Smoother Skin!) that make us feel inadequate and promotes hyper-consumerism. But the tool itself could be used for much more interesting ends (a la Merkley???).
And what that makes me think of is two kinds of art.
1) Art that reveals the world for what it is (booger nose); and----------
2) Art that creates the illusion of fantasy - or the world for what it isn't. In the first category we put photojournalism, field recordings, Kern, Naz, Dorethea Lange, etc. In the other we put Merkeley, Alice Cooper, David Bowie (music and image), George Bush in cowboy boots, RuPaul, abstract impressionism....eh...you know what? I just got bored of my own topic.
On Dec 12, 2007 11:32 AM, ty wrote:
Ha! You go bored with your own topic. I suspect that is because you realized you were preaching to the deacon.
The miniaturization (gradient masking and contrast/color blasting) thing is a exercise; something I wanted to learn. It's a technique that I will file in the arsenal for use when it makes sense to me and to my context.
I'll end it with this: nice call with Dorothea Lange. Love that shit (Hank actually gave me a Lange collection book a couple of years back).
But yeah, as I discover and evolve my so-called "style" in photography (or picture taking since I'll never be a photographer - Kwiatkowski is a photographer) I do want to learn some things. I've smoothed skin and removed unpleasant elements to create not fantasy but "better reality." I know how to do that. But I'm not gonna do it for a living. That's radio pop.
Neither though am I a photojournalist. I’m just exploring.
See this shit. It's for real (it's like my going to the police academy on acid) - storytelling:
On Dec 12, 2007 11:48 AM, Dave wrote:
2 of 4, half of a third of a dozen of another, it's all the same.
"It's hard when you understand the process but cannot impact it anymore."
"That hits the nail perfectly...and that's what makes it so epically sad. I feel like the country is the Grinch's sleigh, all loaded up and dangling off the tip of Mount Crumpet. And even if the corporate-politico-Grinch's heart grew three sizes and he raced back into town with all our hopes and dreams...all the Who's in America-ville wouldn't be out in the town square singing and welcoming him. They'd be in their Barcaloungers® watching America's Top Model® and washing down pork rind cupcakes with flourescent Gatorade®."
Today he jumped really high and landed very quietly.
What did you do?
- Danny in Massachusetts
Ty: Good question and an even better observation, Dan. This fall? No, Danny. It's not just this fall....
Yes, white on white crime is a way of life here in America. Whether it's blowing shit up (Oklahoma City) or the standard shoot-up-crowded-public-places variety, white men (in particular) love to kill. White men are in an historical quest to be the best-est killers ever. Shoot a deer, quail, or buffalo? Whatever. Shoot up a school/mall/church and then you're historic.
Dude. If I had a dollar for every time I wished (in particular situations) that I were white (or looked white and male in order to get perceived respect or to optimize situations), I'd have a million dollars and would for all intents and purposes be white (it's a money thing).
Don't hate yourself for being born into pole position. Enjoy your male whiteness (I would) and use your powers for good. Because you can. You have that option.
Oh, and some whites (men in particular) like to kill blacks too. It's just a thing. Human males (in particular) have a killing thing. Women aren't necessarily like that. Oh, and the Native American peoples...uh...Chinese and Japanese...uh, yeah.
And remember, culturally, we're way over the whole black-on-black crime thing so when a mall gets shot up it certainly trumps the old-school drive-by. With a dwindling black population, that doesn't make "news" because it's a dead marketing demographic. No money in it.
But, yeah. Just a guess.