From Google Street Maps

Telegraph & Derby, Berkeley

What You Need @ Middlespace Dot Com!

So, even I sometimes have trouble finding my way. Look to your left. I accidentally typed in "middlespace.com". Middlespace isn't a dot-com, it's a dot-net. So, as you can see, I was in the process of changing it to dot-net (so I can see what the hell I have up anymore--management).

As you can see -- and what I discovered -- is that middlespace.com is owned by one of those wholesalers hoping that some sucker will want that URL so much that they'd pay just a little bit extra (per month or whatever) and the wholesaler gets a nickel a month in perpetuity or whatever. Something like that. I mean, it ain't no real site even though it's all copyright and stuff.

No big deal.

But, I do like that 1) it's simply format as a little site. See, there's the header titled "main" and under that are the words "Ty Hardaway." Damn, that's funny! Because that's me! So, whatever, their application crawled around a bit and attempted to make this inclusive and such. So, whatever. The rest is gibberish like"Mp3 Player" and "Downloadable Music."


But, "Space Travel" is an interesting topic, isn't it? WTF? Random? Omen? Science? God?


Note (FL): If you keep reloading the page it comes up two different ways - one with the four color squares and the more official looking one.


Joe Lieberman Says...

He said he "was happy with the progress... [and] he did believe that this surge eventually would pay off and it would start to break the insurgency."

From the papers:
On Memorial Day, 10 U.S. soldiers were killed in Iraq — eight of those died when an American helicopter was shot down north of Baghdad. And yesterday, “gunmen dressed in police uniforms staged a well-coordinated kidnapping at Iraq’s Finance Ministry and abducted five Britons. Two vehicle bombings in Baghdad killed at least 44 people and injured 74. And the bodies of 32 men — all shot and tortured, some handcuffed and blindfolded — were found in two locations north and south of the capital on Tuesday.

U.S. officials have warned that the strategy of putting more American troops on the streets and in small combat outposts, part of a security plan launched in February, would lead to higher U.S. casualties. But Tuesday's carnage suggested that the effort had not created a safer security environment.

Also, the complex operations launched against U.S. and allied forces Monday and Tuesday demonstrated that the insurgency here also is adopting more sophisticated tactics and weapons.
Oh, Joe!

The Queen of Everything Slays the King of Leisure

OK. Florence. I love Florence. She’s genius-smart (if Brennan gets any genes, getting Florence and Rebecca’s would do her just very well, thanks) and was onto my sorry act from the beginning. I respect that. She knows more about me than I do. We’re checkmated though since I know more about her than she does. She knows that too. So, yeah, we’re cool.

So, to make this story short, She was watching – over the weekend – when I was oohing and awing over Henry’s box of old letters and his old school Nikon lenses. She saw all that. She shot me the look of too-easily-impressed pity and I didn’t even realize it.

When I was looking for a book to read and had the nerve to poo-poo some of the titles around her house (she, my friends, is a serious reader in terms of quality and quantity, gets it from her father, the good Judge Brennan) all making fun and such, she finally after eleven years, whipped out her can of nuclear. She finally decided to blow my head. And she did.

She says, “Huh! You don’t like any of my books, I see?” and she opens a cabinet in the built-in bookshelf. She pulls out a white plastic bag and sets it on my lap. “Take a look at this,” she says without irony, excitement, or malice. A white plastic bag….

I’m thinking, oh, maybe some old photo album. Maybe the family bible. I pull a book out of the bag. It’s obviously an old book and it’s kind of falling apart. I smells old. It’s heavy to the touch. It feels like no book I’ve ever held. Wow, maybe it’s the oldest book I’ve ever seen. I’m confused.

I open it up and it and it’s a book of poems…old English…Milton…1692?! Holy shit! [sound, smell, sight of head exploding]. I’m holding an original John Milton fifth edition, fully illustrated book of poems published in 1692.

I look at her and she shrugs. She shrugs! Like, hey you like old stuff, junior? There you have it. Makes those lenses look pretty new, huh?

So, there I was gingerly paging through a 315-year-old book. Three hundred year old crap getting on my shorts (she shrugged). I’m sure a rare book expert would kill me for even touching it with my bare hands. But, I had to feel the words, the illustrations, and the leather. I had to soak it in.

Then to add insult to absolute injury, she goes, “oh, these are a little old too” and pulls out the two volume set of John Gay fables, “Fables by John Gay: with a life of the author.” Uh, 214-years-old (publication date: 1793).

Keep in mind, these are original editions.

I was floored! What next, the Magna Carta? The teeth of Jesus in a Mason jar?

Oh, that Flos! She blows my head. Does it with absolute style and does it as casually as swatting a fly.


Back Wednesday

1) I'm getting away for a few days.

2) I'll probably delete all (most) email.

3) This'll keep you busy in the interim: clicky

4) I'll take my camera.

Why I'm Not A Democrat

Because they suck!

When Democrats Collapse

After Jimmy Carter caved to the Republican noise machine and took back his blast at President Bush, it's no surprise the party wimped out on the war.
"As usual, we've been sucked into a phony controversy about who said what and how it hurt George W. Bush's feelings. Because when you hurt George W. Bush you hurt America's feelings, and when you hurt America's feelings, you hurt the troops. And when that happens, Tinkerbell's light goes out and she dies."

- Bill Maher
...and the baby Jesus cries.

"Now, is it possible for a future president to perform as badly as Bush has? I suppose, theoretically, if we elect someone totally off the wall, like R. Kelly, or the reanimated corpse of Ted Williams, or Rudy Giuliani ... But let's be honest, we would have been better off over the past six years if the Oval Office had been occupied by an orangutan with a Magic 8-Ball. And that's why it's so depressing that when the right-wing noise machine pretended to get upset at what Jimmy Carter said, he did what Democrats always do and backed down. He said his remarks were careless and misrepresented and the sun was in his eyes and his hearing aid went out and he was molested by a clergyman.

They confronted him, and he took it all back. Which is what Democrats do. Why couldn't he have just said, "No, I meant what I said. And speaking as the first citizen of Habitat for Humanity, let me take out my toolbox and build you a house where we can meet and you can blow me." If a Democrat who's out of office and 100 years old can't speak out, what chance do we have for the ones who are in office? Like the ones who are in Congress now who, emboldened by widespread public approval of their plan to bring the troops home ... this week abandoned that plan. You see, you don't get to become the worst president ever without a little help from the other side."

- Still Bill Maher

Leprechauns and Unicorns

It's casual/eat-lunch-out Friday! And, I'm reading the Washington Post ™, dammit (because it's in the free bin)!

1) It screams (that's what headlines do), "Books Print Critical Portraits of Clinton." Here ye, here ye! Washington Post, print (and online for a while), May 25, 2007. The headline is, in essence, an ad for two more books that are critical of Hillary Clinton. So?

She's apparently described as "brilliant and controlling, ambitious and victimized." Right, we knew this, remember? "Two biographies challenge image the presidential candidate has presented on the campaign trail." Sigh.... There's nothing left to stick.

Well, no shit.

2) Speaking of shit. Yesterday, a bird shat upon my president during a press conference.
"It happened midway through his news conference in the Rose Garden yesterday morning, in between his 10th and 11th mentions of al-Qaeda: A bird flew over the president and deposited a wet, white dropping on the upper left sleeve of his jacket. Bush wiped the mess off with his bare hand."

Perhaps there is a god.

3) Speaking of god, Hanna Rosen writes about The New Establishment: How Evangelicals Became Part of Washington's Fabric. Basic argument is that Monica Goodling is neither a mope nor alone. They're everywhere, like bedbugs in a cockroach crackhouse.

Remember, as wrong as you believe Goodling and he cadre to be, the beauty is, she and her cadre believe that we (you and I) are way more wrong. They are an army for christ and they aren't playing around. [Who's the sucker now?]

"Fascinating" is the only word I can think of. Maybe some day I will be proven (key word) wrong, but this belief-in-religion thing is straight-up goofy to me.

Faith! They shout it. Faith! (How's that again?) Faith, my brothers, sisters and children. Have faith and ye shall enter the kingdom of heaven.

I was spending some rare time fooling around in Netflix ™ and ended up watching the trailer for Jesus Camp. Whoo-boy!

And they give shit to muslims for "indoctrination?" Whoo-boy! What did I call those kids before, "goofy?" Sure, lots of that, but add a gogolplex of "loony" and we're closer.

Maybe this could be my audience for my new low-cost policies in Therapy Insurance. My four-word pitch:
What if you're wrong?

Electronical Mail Chumps

"Professor Sherry Turkle said she came up with the concept after researching e-mail and discovering that some people harbor fantasies about escaping their e-mail burden...Turkle, who estimated that she has 2,500 pieces of unread e-mail in her inbox."

E-Mail Reply to All: 'Leave Me Alone'

When I was working in an office, people would always be amazed that my electronical mailbox would only have like seven messages in the inbox. They would always tell me how I must have immaculate archives. I would tell them that I don't keep archives and that what they see -- the seven -- was it.

Why would anyone ever have more than, say, 10 messages to ever even appear on their radar? Let me look.... OK, my Gmail account presently has seven messages (and full-disclosure, Gmail keeps mail as threads, so it represents more than seven individual mailings, but trust me I would probably never have more than 15. Oh, none are unread. I've been this way forever. My 2,856 megabytes of free Gmail space rarely moves past 0% usage [You are currently using 0 MB (0%) of your 2856 MB].

People have thresholds. I've watched people fuss with their inboxes with frustration and embarrassment. Me? If I don't have it -- I don't have it. Nothing t freak about. I do sometimes ask someone else (an Electronical Mail Chump - EMC) to pleas forward me a particular note. They suggest that I carelessly deleted the mailing. I explain, "No. I just figures you'd have it if I ever needed it." EMCs!

People have asked, "What about vacation? What do you do when you come back from several days away from your mail?" Well, that's easy. First, when are we ever away from our mail anymore. But, if I were to be, I generally do one of two things (dependent on how I'm feeling about the number of mail stacked). I either (I've done this for years too):
A) Pick through to see what may be important (or, really, amusing or somehow satisfying) and delete all of the rest, but this requires thought.


B) Chuck it all. Select-all > Delete. That's it! If something important is brewing, someone will contact me. This is what I usually do. No thought involved.
Here's a free hint people (because I could charge for this shit): Use the following message for your vacation reminder:
For Work

"Hi. I'll be away from this account for a few days. When I return I will delete the entire inbox. Feel welcome to catch me up when I'm back."


Man, You Guys Are Suckers!

Remember when Colin Powell went the UN and was all lying about the Saddam Hussein threat? Remember that theater? Here’s what he said way back then:
  • We have no indication that Saddam Hussein has ever abandoned his nuclear weapons program.
  • We have more than a decade of proof that he remains determined to acquire nuclear weapons.
  • Saddam Hussein already possesses two out of the three key components needed to build a nuclear bomb.
  • Since 1998, his efforts to reconstitute his nuclear program have been focused on acquiring the third and last component, sufficient fissile material to produce a nuclear explosion.
  • Saddam Hussein is determined to get his hands on a nuclear bomb.

And, up until that point (and generally afterwards), people described the good (negro) General as “honorable,” “professional,” and “honest.” But, people were surprised that he would do that for this administration. The Colin Powell would “risk his honor” and go and lie to the world.

So, who in their right mind thought Ms. Monica Goodling (pictured with "Baby Karl" Kyle Sampson) was going to go into a Congressional hearing and either break down or give up, what, Bush and Cheney? Yes, Monica Goodling was going to tell the truth and I'm going to be the next president. I’m not believing all the surprise and outrage. This is what she does; sticks to the script under oath, torture, or threat of demise. Despite her less than prestigious undergraduate (Messiah) and law education (the fourth-tier Regent) she is a professional, a trained assassin, educated on-the-job (and subsequently coached) under some of the best crooks in the history of crooks.

From Wiki:
Ms. Goodling worked alongside Tim Griffin as an opposition researcher for the Republican National Committee during the 2000 presidential campaign. She joined the Department of Justice's press office after George W. Bush was elected president. She moved to the department's executive office, which is responsible for budgeting, management, personnel management and evaluation, later becoming deputy director of the executive office. After less than a year, Goodling moved again, to the attorney general’s office, working as the White House liaison. According to David Ayres, senior chief of staff to Attorney General John Ashcroft, "She was the embodiment of a hardworking young conservative who believed strongly in the president and his mission". But according to Bud Cummins, one of the fired prosecutors and an Arkansas Republican, “She was inexperienced, way too naïve and a little overzealous".
So, Monica Goodling was going to single-handedly bring down this despicable house of cards. The headlines tell me that “Goodling ‘Crossed the Line.’” Wow! Better than the contents of Nixon's blank tapes. Turned a corner, crossed a line, stay the course and nobody has stepped on a crack. What the hell, people? This is all we got? You put, "Crossed the line" on the front of you newspapers? What. Ever.

And, clearly all knives are out for McNulty. Both Gonzalez and Goodling have thrown Paul McNulty under the old bus (can you say “Scooter”?). So, were back where we started with this whole mess and Karl, Harriet, George, and Dick are nowhere near the heat.

Good. I always admire competence. The GOP has loads of competence and The Democrats (you remember, “a bold new direction for a secure America”) are still like retarded, drunk, blinded mimes racing across freeway traffic (reminds me of a story from just this morning*). No wonder Dick and George remain so arrogant. There's not a power in the universe to humble them. I mean, seriously, Karl is the dope pimp mack daddy of the highest order (second only to Dick Cheney), right?

File this one under “Duh!” And know that all the will she or won’t she cry suspense and anticipation was part of the play, dummy.

If they can make the good general lie, mopes like Gonzalez, Goodling, and Scooter – who all probably don’t know a truth anymore – are going to stay the proverbial course.


* A Short Story: This morning a beater pick-up truck caught fire on the freeway in the center divide. The fire trucks were on the right shoulder. A cop walked out onto the freway and stopped the traffic. He yelled at me.


Woman on Woman

The stay-at-home and working mom interaction is fascinating. Both sides are convinced that the other is wrong.

Read this article this morning:

The Invisible Mommies
, by Sharon Lerner
A spate of new books about opting out adds more fuel to the mommy wars. But will our focus on educated, well-paid women ever trickle down to less fortunate moms?
Like I said, fascinating.


S&W - Who Knew?

So, I'm paging through Rolling Stone magazine (yeah, I know, but it's free so sue me) and I came across a review for Tom Scharpling and Jon Wurster's The Art of the Slap in the "reviews" section: "...three discs of S&W brilliance" - four stars. Yikes!

Who knew? I thought Tommy and company was so off the radar that it wasn't ever likely to hit the print pages of a publication like RS. Who knew? Full disclosure, I'm a card carrying FOT.

From RS:
In the seventies, Led Zeppelin and The Who spent the hours on the road listening to their prized bootleg Derek and Clive tapes. These days, Tom Scharpling and Jon Wurster are the traveling rock musician's comedy duo of choice, inspiring a fanatical MP3-trading cult. Like an indie-rock Bob and Ray, they improvise long, absurd dialogues about characters like the Music Scholar (the snob who dismisses the Beatles as "ear candy") and Mother 13 (the loser band plugging its gig at the Earthlink/Pringles Summer Slam Jam). If they remind you of jerks you know, or maybe the jerk you are, that's the point.

Who knew this is what the kids were listening to on the road. Makes sense I suppose.

I knew S&W had discs out, but I never felt obligated to purchase since I was all caught up from listening to The Best Show on WFMU. Buy the records if you want, but purists will want to go through the complete archives of the Best Show (dating back to the October 24, 2000 show titled "Yankees vs. Mets").

As always, I guess I'll have to find something else that's all mine. Oh, the show is on live every Tuesday from 8:00 to 11:00 (at night) on WFMU (and there's podcasts and shit too).

[WFMU is an independent freeform radio station broadcasting at 91.1 fm in the New York City area, at 90.1 fm in the Hudson Valley, and live on the web in Realaudio, or in Windows Media, as well as two flavors of MP3, and all programs archived in MP3 and Realaudio.]

Oh, Those Kids! (continued)

Before I forget, see The Cult of the Pink Tower (Slate), an interesting introduction to Montessori ™.

From the professor of social work in San Diego:
The interesting thing about the scene you describe is the fact that these are stay-at-home types. Now there’s nothing inherently interesting about SAHs; however, one might conclude the children of SAHs would be better behaved given these moms are home all day and should be teaching their children things like manners, listening skills, etc. Ill mannered children come from all types, but there seems to be a disproportionate number born to women who choose to be SAHs.

Here’s my take:

1) Most SAHs who reside in the cushy suburbs we call home are college educated and many have graduate degrees; thus, they’re relatively intelligent

2) They feel trading their careers for mommy-hood is essential because childcare is detrimental to children (remember, I said they were relatively intelligent)

3) After the honeymoon period of staying at home is over, they realize they’ve become carbon copies of the 1950s June Cleaver America—except they have access to internet shopping, Mommy and Me, baby gymnastics, and play dates

4) Once little Jimmy is 2 or 3, they begin to regret their decision because they’re bored (remember, they’re educated) and they long for daily doses of adult conversation and companionship

5) Starbucks (or any other ubiquitous 21st century chain) becomes their version of the workplace; it’s a metaphor for the office water cooler, break room, or convenient first-floor snack shop

6) It is within the Starbucks environment that selfish desires to congregate and converse with other adults overshadow parenting and we observe the behavior of unsupervised little children. It doesn’t matter that their conversations are slightly less vapid than your average teenage girl.

-MR, Ph.D.
Oh, yeah, they are bored. You can tell. You can see it in the eyes. Bored and desperate to the point of being frightened. Unfortunately, cushy lifestyle, low crime, virtual access, and the minivan create large pockets of elective isolation. People live within the walls of their McMansion, Honda ™ Oddyssey ™ minivan, and of My Gym ™ playspace.

Why are they scared? They've heard that crime lurks out there (especially in "the city!"). They're smart enough to realize that the sociopath they voted for has help enact decisions (and legislation) that will probably prematurely end the lives of their children. They don't see their spouses any more and that new receptionist is single and hasn't even considered children. They cannot conceive "what's next?"

So, shit yeah, when they can gather at a safe, familiar, comfortable "third place" like Starbucks ™ or Barnes & Noble ™ or Gymboree ™, who has time to watch kids? It's one of the only opportunities to share notes between pick-ups, drop-0ffs, snacks, laundry, cooking, and nap time.

It may not be the depression, the meds to ward off depression, or simply ill manners. It might be the sheer desperation for human, adult, safe, familiar, comfortable conversation that results in monsterism in public. These pockets of SAHs ™ are analogous to the chain franchises they congregate: similar, generic, sometimes vapid, and easy to quickly understand. We've chosen as a society to compress our existence to the point where all highs and lows are removed in favor of comfort, efficiency, and isolation.

And with the boredom, I believe the professor is right, the resentment is thick. I gave up everything to do this?! To wit:
"Marshall's salary was substantially larger than the salary earned by Joyce, who had twice changed careers and had twice interrupted them to give birth."

From: Ken Kalfus' A Disorder Peculiar to the Country
Bored. Insulted. Trapped. And, scared. Damn, I should have more empathy.

This is why people no longer comprehend war (too icky) but will talk for days about celebrity dating (it's important!). I'm guessing here, but I'm starting to understand who the people are who are actually frightened by "war on terror," "threat level," and "immigration."

Our leadership has failed us. We no longer educate. We have frightened all the sheep back into the pens. Comfort and effectiveness now trumps depth, breadth, insight, logic, or context.

Maybe, I shouldn't have more empathy.

Clearing the Files

I'm about to switch out notebooks. I try to keep three things with me at most times:

  1. Notebook
  2. Camera (w/video)
  3. Audio recorder
Anyhow, I'm fixin' a change out my notebook, here are seven of the remaining quotations - and just for you, completely out of context!
Elliot’s life in ballet.

Curbside recovery.

I’m going to drive to the hospital because I never had tonsils.

Did you ever stop playing a basketball game for I Love Lucy.

Suburban party mill.

Odd words as verbs.

Just Like Ray

Oh, Those Kids!

I’m at the Starbucks ™ by my house.

And, I am surrounded by monsters. Not the thorny, fire-breathing, murderous kind of monster of days olde, but torturous nonetheless and immensely more frightening than Loch Ness, Big Foot, Dracula, Jason, and The Night Strangler combined. Eight stay-at-home types in flip-flops, tank tops, low-rider jeans, shoes that were hip three years ago, darling bags, and hair clips. The monsters came with their moms: Mommy monsters and offspring monsters. These monsters are in tutus and Velcro ™ shoes. These little killers wear Crocs ™ and can’t seem to keep their hands out of their mouths or their nasty hands off of everything. Devils from Tasmania.

Here’s the reason I don’t like the little turds: their so-called caretakers, their mothers, have left them largely unattended. One mom is reading the paper (the local community paper though, not one with news or anything), the other seem engaged with an apple fritter and some drink that must have about 900 calories in whipped cream alone. The other three have huddled into a discussion group, something about drop-off times for soccer or gymnastics or some other activity where someone else takes care of their children. And, group number three over in the corner huddled in conversation.

I’ve been here for 15 minutes and haven’t heard word one about current events. I want to say, “excuse me, did you know the Middle East is on fucking fire right this very minute, actions that could have long-term affects on your kids?”

One little shit just shouted, “Daddy mows the lawn!” Good for “Daddy.”

Oh, did I say the kids were “largely unattended?” Sorry, let me correct that: unattended (period). This one three year old is pushing this big ass yuppie stroller around, directly in the way of the condiment/napkin/stirrer bar. His little play date is just dropping shit on the floor. She got the easy job.

The little ballerinas are either climbing on the barstools (the tall ones) or playing with the shelved coffee. Starbucks ™ is a goddamn playground today. One just said hi to me as he jumped off the upholstered chair. Hi.

I cannot tell if it’s depression, the anti-depressives, or simple lack of values, parenting skills, or some sort of undeserved entitlement, but this is some of the very worst parenting I’ve ever seen. And, it’s not the first time I’ve witnessed this scene, here and elsewhere.

Intervening interactions take the form of, “Now Mommy thinks that we shouldn’t take all the milk containers out of the display…can you stay right here while we [Mommy] puts these all back…Ethan, Ethan!” Or, “Honey, I told you not to jump off of that chair.”

My first thought when I arrived here was, “Holy shit! My kid is so well-behaved compared to…to this.”

Oh, here’s one taking all the papers off the dispenser. Just taking ‘em off and dropping them to the floor. It’s no wonder the Washington Post ™ sucks, they must be just leaking money due to this disaster alone. Caretaker just stroked her darling little head. This is the action from group number three. More 1,700-calorie beverages and in-group discussion. While the kids are doing whatever the hell they want.

I don’t dislike these children. Their parents are a lost cause though. Someday, and if things continue to go the way they appear, I will dislike these children.


Inbox (con't)

Airport Mopes Continued

4:31 pm (1 hour ago)
Speaking of TSA mopes and Ziplock baggies….The last time I flew to DC, I was asked by the nice TSA pre-ticket checking checker, to empty my clear toiletries bag into the clear Ziplock bag. Never mind the contents of my clear Chinese manufactured bag was only a third full and the contents of the bag would have easily fit into the TSA provided Ziplock. I had to empty my bag into the Ziplock to comply with this truly terrorist-busting measure.

So I ask: Does the $5 post-911 security fee include the costs of Ziplock bags?


Internets Funnies

Today, it's on Wonkette. And, they (surprisingly) burn on W.



Encounters with Mopes

May 20 (16 hours ago)
I had my toothpaste confiscated on the way to Chicago. Apparently it was a threat to National Security. Actually, it wasn't the toothpaste that was a threat, but the fact that it wasn't in a ziploc bag.

I tried to argue (mistake right there) that ziploc bag was intended to contain MULTIPLE items (as indicated on the signage), and that putting a single item in a ziploc bag wouldn't contain it anymore than if it were not in a ziploc bag. It's still one item.

Nope. Rules are rule. Move along, goat.

Apparently ziploc bags are bomb-proof.



May 20 (16 hours ago)
now you're going to be toothless.


College Fund?

Think you’re messed up? Scary, huh? Well just think for one minute how messed your kids will be? And if you think college will be expensive, think about what all those years of up your kids therapy will add up to? Sure, you won’t pay for it, you say…yeah you will. Guilt! And, the insurance corporations don’t really give a shit about your mental health (or your physical health for that matter - nor does you job) and they’ll cut you off at some “maximum mental health care” threshold or something.

So there’s no winning in this situation, right? Wrong!

That’s where, ahem, that’s where Therapy Insurance comes in. Pay a little bit at a time starting when little “pookie” is a baby and you’re all set…At the age of 30, you’ll be obligation free and, ironically, guilt free too. Think of it as a really fucked-up layaway (maybe they'll get "cured" in time to put your old ass up in one of the cushier "retirement centers."

College fund? No, no, no. Therapy fund!

Think about that.

A Thump Too Icky

I don’t agree.

I don’t know any rock critics. I don’t really read any either. I don’t know any by name or reputation. The closest I know is my friend Rich who can write a review and keep it funny and honest; usually spot on. But, birds of a feather, right?

So, I’m reading the LA Weekly and see that there’s a little something on White Stripes. OK, I know White Stripes, but I do love me some good candy. Shit, I’ll even go as far as defending the motherfuckers. So, that’s where I am today. Defending the White Stripes. Oh, God, how far I’ve fallen. Well, it’s not necessarily defending White Stripes as it is questioning rock critics. And, my opinion is and will always be livelihood.

Anyway, I’m reading Ms. Kate Sullivan’s “Trying to Shake the White Stripes Icky.” Yep. Here’s a sample:
A lot of great songs sound icky the first few times you hear ’em. For me, Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog” would be a prime example. In fact, a lot of Zeppelin’s most important stuff is like that. This superficial ugliness is often a harbinger of a song’s enduring quality. The first 74 times you hear it, it sounds ugly.

["Black Dog" kicked in after about two measures for me - oh well.]

Weirdly, for all the ways I have loved the White Stripes, they’ve never been icky like that for me.

[Stripes have always been icky, by design]

But this time, I’m not digging the “Icky Thump,” and given my history with the band, I’m worried. Compare this moment, for example, to the release of “Seven Nation Army,” 2003’s advance single…That was the type of song that you “got” right away, though it was somewhat complicated.

[I believe this is what compelled me to write about this. Calling "Seven Nation Army" "complicated" is like calling Taco Bell "Mexican Food"]

But I’m starting to think that my initial icky feelings for the song are not going to evolve. The music isn’t bad or anything, but I am surprised that this is the debut single they chose. You hear it, and you say, “So... that’s it?””

[That's too bad. You could really expand here by not self-handicapping something you don't "get"]

Do what, now?! I think she has it all wrong and I believe I could help her “get” it. I mean, I don’t know Kate Sullivan nor have I read many of her reviews (if any), but I feel that I could argue a point – but I’m not going to do that here. I'm not that motivated. I could guess, though, based on her photograph with her dog, that she and I represent a completely different demographic along many dimensions (like carrots and school buses).

Hey, it’s fine to not like something. I love people who don’t like things. I dislike plenty myself. It’s fine to not get something either. I know and love people who don’t get a darn thing, and they are so cute. But, to publicly limit yourself by saying that you “got” “Seven Nation Army” right away and feel that “Icky Thump” just chugs along (and that you don't get it) is too bad.

When I first read the review, I was all like, “dang, I was hoping that the new album wouldn’t suck.” But, I held out hope that maybe the pre-release (advance) single was just the dud of the bunch, like “Seven Nation.” But, I heard it first in the shower and was plenty prepared to declare it over with them. I had to stop showering because it was striking. That song is damn good.

First of all, to say that “Icky Thump” has “a decent Zeppeliny riff and some cool-ass guitar effects” says a lot about the author. It doesn’t say anything bad, just it appears that the writer's pop/rock music education is incomplete and that they might be trying to impress (someone) by demonstrating their chops by invoking Led Zeppelin.

Uh, it sounds very little Led Zeppelin. Sure, there’s the hooky riff that could be compared to something out of Jimmy Page’s ass, but it could be very Motley Crue-ish too. It could be the London fucking Sympathy Orchestra too. I mean, the entire column is dedicated to comparing a White Stripes single (a carrot) to Led Zeppelin (a fleet of Greyhound busses). There’s nothing to compare except each musical group (aka, “band”) use guitars, microphones, drums, and somebody sings. Oh, somebody pushes the “record” button too. Well enough of this nonsense; you can’t be a pimp and a prostitute too.

Anyway, here’s what I like about the “Icky Thump”:
  • Good sounds.
  • Sounds good.
  • Execution wise, it’s the tightest Meg/Jack performance execution yet (uh, Jack).
  • Meg doesn’t try to play the drums – at all. Thank goodness. Keep a nice quarter note, Meg and you’re gonna retire young.
  • Thoughtful production.
  • Nod to metal, nod to prog, nod to math rock.
  • Most of all, I love that if this is the advance single, there’s a chance that the record will be a motherfucker. I hope nobody gets it and Jack loses a million dollars. There’s a chance for art here.
Anyway, that review has been bothering me all weekend.

Whatever and, cheers, gov’nah!


And, why Rickey loves Rickey:
"Why aren't I hearing that from Billy?"

Sandwich Talk Friday - Chicken Salad (@ Ruby's Café)

The Customer is always Right, Right?

The customer is always right. That is, unless the cashier decides the customer is actually not right at all.

It baffles me that some silly folks still, when upset by a particular transition, whip out the dustiest axiom (or is it a maxim) of all: “Well…the customer is always right!” Uh, you’re going to lie to me, try to cheat me, attempt to steal from me, and treat me like garbage, yet, you’re the one who is right in this transaction. Sorry, “always right” – in perpetuity.

What does that ill ass phrase mean anyway? [Who cares?!]

As “trading policy that states a company's keenness to be seen to put the customer first,” I get it. You want people to feel as if they are not only being treated fair, but that they are actually holding the cards in this long-standing commercial power-struggle. You want people to feel that way so you can enjoy some or all of their money. But, it’s just another con. It’s another lie like, “Where the customer is king, “ or “putting clients first,” or even, “Guaranteed best deal in town!” (Or “Coldest beer in town” – Ha! I like my beer just cooler than room temperature – I win!) And, for some reason, people believe (or believed) that nonsense.

Who has the power? Ultimately, it could be argued that the people can vote with their wallets or feet, or however that one goes, and not patronize an establishment. That’s the war, though. But, remember, we live in an era of never-ending war. So, wars are irrelevant anymore. It’s now the battles, people. And, in the battle between cashier and customer, the cashier holds all the power. Repeat: All. The. Power. Seriously. And, who has the attention span for war anyway?

I have worked – from time to time – at a variety of customer service jobs. I’ve worked in an ice cream truck, a video store, in the pizza making and delivery industry, and at a burrito shack. I’ve also worked for a large bookseller. You know, one of the big ones. Bigger. That’s the one. I worked in a variety of functions there, from shipping and receiving to cashier. I know the bottlenecks – the places where the clever commerce jammer can grind commerce to a halt – I know were the power resides.

So next time you’re closing in on fed up due to a cashier with an attitude (whether dumber than you, smarter than you, incompetent, or trying to fuck with you) remember you can either go somewhere else (and waste another half-hour in travel and parking and hassle time) or whip out: “The customer is always right!” Like that’ll do something for you.

Maybe call for the so called "manager"…yikes.

Two " "s on Art

1) "Art is: The product of constant self-punishment."

2) "The greatest gift I've ever received, was the gift of being able to sit around and think 'arty.'"

"Generally people do not take me seriously—that’s the way I prefer it. Life is too short not to enjoy it for the joke of a roller-coaster ride that it is."

- Chris Nieratko


Oh, I Get It

Yeah, go to: someecards.com. You'll get it too.


I was on the receiving end of this today:"
"May 17, 2007. It's time for another tKoL album.... Start on Monday."
Good for us!


Bonus STYLE Addendum

What's in my pockets?

Note: No animals were harmed in creating my pink wallet (American Apparel (tm)). But, yeah, that is an Exxon (tm) SpeedPass (tm). So sue me!

Honda (tm) key
Volkswagen (tm) key
Phone by Verizon
Kryptonite key
Cash money (USA (tm))

Ask Ty...May 16...STYLE!

Q: You have a very cool style.... And I wonder, how much of that is tied to your race?

- George Stephanopoulos

Ty: Good question and an even better observation, George. People just love my cool style and often attribute it to my race. Yes, I do try to bring out the best in JewFroPino style, but it's only partially tied to my race (you douche bag). Mostly, I strut based on a combination of high self value (Like Jesse Jackson taught me, "I am somebody!") and constant access to the freshest of fashion Dos and Don'ts in the K-Lands!

Here how my boy, Brock O'Baughmma, answered that question of George's:
"That's interesting."
Anyway, here's how I'm going to answer that silly ass question. In the spirit of Rolling Stone (tm) magazine's "STYLE - My Look!" column, I present to you, Ask Ty STYLE!


From visor to pouch, Ty Hardaway breaks down his wares:

"I haven't really cultivated my own look just yet," says the Kingdom of Leisure artist, Ty Hardaway, 41, who just released his obscure third installment of the Maryland trilogy, Free Milk Seminar (link = search listing). Most days he dresses the part of father-artist -- "breathable fabrics and t-shirts and shorts" -- and others, he gets down tripgrass style. "Maybe later in my career I'll be able to entertain other looks, just to see what suits me," he says. "The best is yet to come (because I'm black, Jewish, and Filipino)."

1 VISOR "My visor (Nike Team) is both stylish and practical. This LA Dodger visor not only flies the home colors, but keeps my eyes shaded and head pretty cool. I learned this trick from Steve Spurrier when he was Redskins (tm) head coach. This, my friends, is the very best from the Philippines."

2 SUNGLASSES "I never lose my shades (Ray Ban) with this thick, black cord attached. While my homies are looking around for their coolest sunglasses, I'm all covered - in style! Oy vey, wouldn't want to lose expensive glasses."

3 SHORTS/Ts "Shit! Old ass shorts (Circa) and Ts (Old Guys Rule) never go out. Everybody knows that fashion is cyclical, you wear anything long enough and, snap!, that shit's back in style before you know it. This is strictly California in the house!"

4 SHOES/SOX "I kind of do my own thing downstairs. I own the argyle/skate (J Crew/Zoo York) shoes industry. Nobody can pull that one 'cept me. I'm not really sure where this style comes from."

5 THE POUCH "You blow milk out of your nose while laughing at my wacky shit, and, snap!, I'm on it! I keep my camera (Canon) right on my hip in my little brown pouch (UPS). That's why I'm the freshest! Uh, Patrick the UPS guy that gave me this pouch is, uh, white...."

There really isn't much to my style that comes from the black community...maybe my belt (Independent)? Or my underwear (Calvin Klein)? Dunno.


Just a guess!



More American Voices


So Much I Could Say Here

Surprise! No heaven. No hell. No nothing but worms and formaldehyde.
“AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals; it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals”

“The idea that religion and politics don't mix was invented by the Devil to keep Christians from running their own country”

“It appears that America's anti-Biblical feminist movement is at last dying, thank God, and is possibly being replaced by a Christ-centered men's movement which may become the foundation for a desperately needed national spiritual awakening”

“The ACLU is to Christians what the American Nazi party is to Jews”

(re: 9/11 attacks) "...throwing God out of the public square, out of the schools, the abortionists have got to bear some burden for this because God will not be mocked and when we destroy 40 million little innocent babies, we make God mad...I really believe that the pagans and the abortionists and the feminists and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way, all of them who try to secularize America...I point the thing in their face and say you helped this happen."

“Grown men should not be having sex with prostitutes unless they are married to them”

- Jerry!

"One never wants to speak ill of the dead, but in the case of Jerry Falwell, how can one not?" [clicky]

Whatever, Dude

"You're fucking retarded. El Lefty and The Shepherd don't make the cut. Whatever, dude."

- Dr. Rev. R.P. Walk of Berkeley, California

I guess that makes me a mope.


So, I went to this screening of a film on masculinity and hip-hop (yawn) a couple of months ago. A friend invited me who I figured would be fun to pal out with for an evening. His "buddy" actually was hosting the screening and gave us tickets.

We went to the venue (National Gallery) and checked it out. But, there was this very nice woman who also knew the hosting "buddy." She was very nice, smart, chatty, etc. But, you know not someone you'd expect to ever see again.

OK, so a couple of weeks ago, I'm out on the town for dinner and shenanigans, when I noticed this kind of familiar woman looking at me. She says, "I know you!" and we reconstruct where we met. I departed later with a "See you in a couple of weeks" or some silly shit like that.


So, I went to the (sorry no account) Washington Nationals game last night, and they actually beat the Atlanta Braves. So, a good night. But, as I was waiting for my friend to come out of the bathroom, this woman passes me and stops and says, "Oh. My. God!" Yikes, right?! It was her, the stalker Sara(h), and I joke that she's stalking me, etc. Funny. We part ways....

So, my friend and I make a dash for the train, thousands of people. We get to the station and walk along a waiting train. We pass on the first couple of cars and enter one that wasn't as full. We actually left this car and went to the next train. I look up and have to shout, "Now I know you're stalking me!"

Weird. I'm never leaving the house again.


Ask Ty...May 14

Q: So why all the art, Ty?

- Assorted people over the past 30 years

Ty: Good question and an even better observation.
“I love the way capitalism finds a place—even for it enemies. It’s definitely boom time in the discontent industry.”

- Banksy

“It looks like art because it is.”

- Garfield Cadets, 1984

“It's about sex and it's about subversion and it's about having enough style to make the first two points.”

- Malcolm McLaren
I’ve been trying to answer this question for thirty years. Why all the art? Why the murals on the bedroom walls? Why the photos displayed so carefully? Why the installations?

Art is more than what you do, it’s a lifestyle. Not the weak “artist” lifestyle of bad clothes, bad parties, and bad art. But, a lifestyle devoted to an inner aesthetic that you cannot control. Compulsions. Obsessions. Breathing. Eating. Fucking. Arting.

I don’t know. But, here are some Free Milk Seminar rejects:
El Lefty

The Shepherd
Just a guess!


Like Beer Cans Through Spiderwebs - RW

I was just thinking today (and have been lately). Generally, there are about two types of people anymore: Mopes and the Insecure. Mopes and the Insecure account for roughly 90 percent of the local (cough*Americans*cough) population. The rest, the outlier population (the inhabitants of Middlespace, USA) make the art, produce the fodder, shake the cans, annoy the masses, print bumper stickers, and start wars for financial gain (by convincing the Mopes and the Insecure that war is a good idea).

Check it (sorry, "for instance"): George W. Bush is a mope, clearly. It's been proven a thousand times over. Pauly Wolfowitz is horribly insecure, duh. Dick "Cyberman" Cheney is neither. See?

Keep in mind, though, that these and many other categories, sub, and sub-sub categories are wholly flexible; you can enter, exit, and coexist across categories (certainly, there are plenty insecure mopes). While there is mostly little to fear from Mopes and the Insecure, one should always be wary. As much as you pity them, they can be unpredictable and oftentimes wild when they are trying to impress.

And, before we get too far (unless we've gone too far already) this isn't science. This my friends and pupils is opinion. I see stuff. I know, I know, "What we need more of - is science," right? But, shit, my eyeballs aren't wrong, they've been pretty accurate for 41 years so far.
Mopes: The category, Mope, includes your dummies (and their dumbass cousins), purposeful self-monitors, people who invite you to a bluegrass concert that happened to have happened four years ago. Mopes listen (still) listen to the Dave Matthews Band.

Chevrolet owners. People believe that taking off your shoes at the airport is doing something important. It's not that mopes like bad beer, but mopes don't have a clue about what good beer tastes like. Jeans & flip-flops. All-fat diets. Starbucks (tm) (and its employees(tm)). Muscle T. Kids are mopes, but good mopes.

The Insecure: These are your followers, those striving popularity, the talkative, sluts, club members (cough*fratrat*cough), and gun owners. Bluetooth earpiece owners/users aren't necessarily mopes, but they are mostly insecure. Teen-agers are grossly insecure as are the obese.

Bodybuilders. Elective boob implatees. Oddly, the insecure love hugging, voting, and spending tons of money on you. Lo-fat diets. Thugs (give a thug a hug!).
This isn't a superiority plea. I don't really care. I'm as mopish and insecure as anybody. I'm just telling you what I'm seeing lately. Take a look yourself. Most behaviors and interactions can be analyzed through the dual prisms: Mope and the Insecure.

That's it for now. Like I know what the fuck I'm talking about.

Still Hatin' On Prius

Yeah, I'm still hatin' on the ugly ass Toyota Prius [clicky for history].

Now, EPA (thanks Wired) has lowered estimated mileage [clicky]. Ha! That was the only real draw (aside from near zero emissions).


Mother's Day

So, I've finally started to work my list down a bit.

What list? At one point, I personally knew six pregnant women (with seven babies - none mine I believe your honor). C'mon, that's like everyone. But, since Laura (boy, Joe) and now Jessica (boy, Landon) have now had theirs, I'm working it off...some. I'm now at five women and six babies (yeah, I added one somewhere). Humans!

So, to all the baby mamas out there and the baby mamas to be, the Bren and the Big Daddio give out some "big ups, yos!" Yeeeah! Peace! Love! And, yous all our procreating beeoches!

[And, yeah, I did just turn Mother's Day around to be somehow about me. I have a "weird charisma" like that]

At Rhinosnort

It's bad picture weekend.


Peoples Bizarre

In the CD player downstairs, the Peoples Bizarre disc lives. I'm not being lazy, it's probably one of the best albums ever. I'm not kidding.

This disc was a gift like four years ago and I even played a show with Jessica Ivry of Peoples Bizarre. Why don't I remember quizzing her all about it? Guess I was jet lagged.

I'd give a kidney to play with them though. Hell, I'd open a HotMail account to play with them!




Starbucks (tm) will hire anyone.

Hitchens, Christopher

First, Christopher Hitchens has written a new book about god (lower case intentional), God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything.

From the reviews, it appears that we have another fact-based, well-researched, logical thesis refuting god, unicorns, leprechauns, a flat earth, and dragons. Again, according to Salon, we are "Watching a man of his intellect and learning go to work on the indefensible crassness of religious fundamentalism...is rather like watching a vainglorious father running rings around his young son in a game of soccer."

Ha! Funny stuff, right?! Well, it saddens me to believe that we still have to defend logic over faith. We still have world and national and business and social leaders believing this fluff makes some sort of sense.

I mean, whatever floats your boat, but don't push dandelion worship on me.

Anyway, Chris wrote a new book and 1) I fully support it, but 2) I don't see a reason to buy or read it. I get it, I know it, it won't change my opinion.


Incomplete Draft

The Micro-Culture Marionette

Like forest microenvironments where delicate ferns thrive in mid-summer heat and drought, sub-cultures or – micro-cultures – within organizations are fascinating, generally accidental, and wholly unavoidable features that naturally occur in every human social gathering. Commonly overlooked as the dissatisfied minority, micro-cultures are generally ignored by business management. I cannot attest to how much Mother Nature monitors forest microenvironments; that’s not my field.

From the playground rule (taunt) stating emphatically that “two's company and three's a crowd” to bowling league at the US Naval Hospital in Maryland, sub-cultures are places for people to socialize, exchange ideas, network, and most important to business, sub-cultures are where perceptions about your organization are formed, reinforced, and changed. Sub-cultures have rules, hierarchy, and agendas.

Just as complex variables like solar radiation, temperature, humidity and wind speed can greatly affect the relative success or failure of microenvironments in nature – do the ferns grow in summer – micro-cultures are affected and can be manipulated by a number of external and internal nudges. Change (deliberately or accidentally) one or more factors within a micro-culture and individual morale, productivity, loyalty, or cooperation may change for the organization’s benefit or detriment. Intuitively, we all get this concept. But, the management of this concept is generally ignored or mismanagement by heavy-handed or fumbling corporate processes.

And, when I mention the word “manipulation” I’m not (necessarily) talking about evil or trickery. But, change (organizational change, corporate change, culture change) by definition involves a degree of manipulation.

Most modern companies struggling to grow or struggling to survive do not have strong enough senior leadership that is sufficiently in touch with the multiple layers of the organization (think mailroom). Nor do most modern organizations have leadership that is inspirational enough, motivational enough, or charismatic enough to lead blindly. While many companies try to emulate Jack Welch and Steven Jobs, these leaders are anomalies. Yes, you can spend tens or hundreds of “culture change” dollars in the mold of Jobs and Welch, but probability dictates that it’s not going to work to your satisfaction. And, your employees will resent you and the dollars you flushed. It’s classic. Companies are attempting to innovate in vacuums (and the consultants you’ve paid are sailing on the new boats you’ve funded) for the most part.

Chances are, and I’ll bet on this in most cases, you are in an organization where if your CEO said one day, “here’s how we’re going to change,” your first reaction will be, “oh yeah, what do you even know about this organization?” Then you and your micro-culture (and others within the same organization) will convene at lunch or after work and eviscerate the CEO’s new initiative. In some cases the result will be an overall culture daring the brass to prove that their new initiative will work. This is the negative audience rather than the neutral or eager audience. The program begins at a deficit.
OK, so micro-cultures are important. How do we define, influence, and change micro-cultures? Find the leaders of them.

Operation Influence [incomplete]

Perceived Level in Organization (weight = 4)
Cross Cliques (3)
Access to Information (Real) (3)
Perceived Vulnerability (2)
In the Know (Buzz) (1)
Proclivity (3)
Impact on Decision Makers (4)

The New Yorker

1) Cartoon. Page 92. "Candy from a baby." Exactly. Don't have a subscription? Shame on you.

2) Banksy (1). Been following Banksy (2) for years. Rich even gave me his book. I even read it. I love that book. Totally get it (most of it given my American-ness). But, Banksy in the New Yorker?! Something's amiss [clicky for article or see page 54]. Either the New Yorker is far out or Bansky is over. Must ponder.

It's For Your Protection

I was thinking about something for a bit. I am one of those people who absolutely hate being asked for additional identification when making a credit card purchase.

I read this and I thought about it more [clicky here].

Why do I hate this practice so much? Because I firmly believe with every fiber of my being that this practice is unevenly practiced. That is, some people may be asked more than others and that this practice may not adhere to a company's policy or to that of the credit card issuer. I happen to be a dark-skinned male living in a predominately light-skinned community/area. I believe, based on my observations, that this practice is unevenly practiced.

I've experienced both extremes: I've not been asked for any ID at all when making a $2,000 purchase and I've been asked for additional ID when making a $5 purchase.

When I'm asked nowadays, I can hardly contain myself. I feel it coming:
Cashier: Thank you, may I see your ID?

Me: What do you mean?

Cashier: Can I see your license?

Me: Why?

Cashier: It's for your protection.

Me: How so? I'm not driving in here.

Cashier: Uh, so nobody else can use your credit card?

Me: I don't really care since I have "zero dollar" protection. In fact, how does someone else using my card impact your organization?

Cashier: The credit card companies require it.

Me: Actually, they don't. In fact, in many states it's illegal for you to ask for additional identification. The big three - Amex, Visa, and MasterCard only require you sign your cards for them to be valid, so those "Ask for ID" mopes are using their cards contrary to their agreement with those companies.

Cashier: We ask everyone.

Me: No you don't, I just watched three transactions where you didn't.

Cashier: Well, we're supposed to ask everyone.

Me: Well you didn't. Do you have a written policy on this practice?

Cashier: I'm sure we do.

Me: Can I see this policy?

Cashier: I'd have to ask.

Me: Have you read this policy?

Cashier: No, but they tell me to check everyone.

Me: But, you didn't.

Cashier: I try to.

Me: Do you really think I'm going to rip off [insert chain store here] for, what's that, $27.40? If I were going to rip you off, it would be for THOUSANDS! I feel insulted now.

Cashier: Sir, I'm not trying to imply anything.

Me: Yes you are, actually. You've implied that 1) I'm a thief; and, 2) I'm dumb.

Cashier: I'm not calling you either.

Me: Well, can I see your policy?

Cashier (or Manager at this point): We're not allowed to show our policies to customers, it's for our protection.

Me: So, your internal policy could be, "Ask BLACKS for ID."

Manager: Sir, I'm insulted by the accusation.

Me: Ha! You're insulted?! You're telling me that 1) you operate a business which practices what could be called policies that discriminate against some types of people in violation to the U.S. Civil Rights Act (sounds good); 2) you cannot demonstrate that you don't because of you so-called proprietary policies; 3) you train your cashiers to enforce such policies but you don't train your staff that the policies are contrary to the credit card companies agreement with you; and, 4) you train your cashiers to enforce such policies but you don't train your staff that the policies are contrary to the law in many states. Additionally, you tell me that this horrible treatment is all for my protection and El Manajor is insulted.

Manager: Uh...
Problem is, briefly, this practice does absolutely nothing to protect the customer or the vendor. It protects the credit card companies, but not the customer. It's akin to taking your shoes off and pouring out your water at the airport.

We live in a mope world.


Ask Ty...May 8

Q: Do Muslim women cry out "Oh Allah! Oh Mohammad!" when they're having sex or should we just not go there?

- Judeo Christian Copulator

Ty: So, yeah, at the Ask Ty global worldwide headquarters, we receive a million stupid ass questions, right Corey? At first we thought this was one of the many "Is your refrigerator running" variety of stop wasting my fucking precious time questions.

But I found something if not rabidly interesting about this question (I've sat on it for several days), but clearly, clearly this is funny as hell too. So, with that long set-up, JCC, Corey and I give your question a sincere: Good question and an even better observation.

What? Huh? Before I tread dangerously into waters for which I cannot walk upon, I asked my personal savior, the almighty Google, for advice. I copied and pasted your question into the Google search field and lo and behold learned something.

First, I had to skip all the "Muslim Leader Blames Women for Sex Attack" articles, commentaries, and news stories to find this jewel at Sweetness & Light, under the heading "Ask the Imam" (duh!):

When a man wants to have intercourse with his wife, he should say what the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) enjoined: “Allaahumma jannibna al-shaytaan…” My question is: should the woman say that too?


Praise be to Allaah.

Thus duaa’ is prescribed for the man when he wants to have intercourse with his wife, because of the hadeeth of IbnAbbaas (may Allaah be pleased with him): “When any one of you want to have intercourse with his wife, let him say, ‘Bismillaah, jannibnaa al-shaytaan wa jannib al-Shaytaan ma razaqtana (In the name of Allaah. Keep the Shaytaan away from us and from what You bestow upon us).’ Then if it is decreed that they should have a child, the Shaytaan will never be able to harm him.” Agreed upon.

It was narrated by the authors of al-Sunan and others. But if she says this duaa’ too, there is nothing wrong with that, because the basic principle is that it is not just for the man. And Allaah is the Source of strength.

Fataawa al-Lajnah al-Daaimah (19/356).

And Allaah knows best.

As with most things Islam, it’s all about keeping the devils away.
Wow! First, that's some complex shit. I can't think during sex let alone remember a soliloquy. But, the best (most shameful) part is the answer failed to address the question: what do women say? Damn! So, we've only wasted time so far.

More searching. I found this:

Dr. Sherif Abdel Azeem

That's a lot of caps, Dr. Azeem. I will not read your article because of that sad fact. More wasted time.

What do Muslim women say during sex? It depends, I'm sure. Same as it depends on what a Christian, atheist, Jewish, Buddhist, or pagan woman says. Context, setting, and acceptability. I know (of) women that mostly moan, "Oh shit!" Has nothing to do with religion or feces. I know woman who cry out, "Yes! Oh yes! Yeeeesssss!" Others say nothing but chose - for a variety of reasons to simply whimper. Dunno.

Dependent on the degree of religiosity, a woman of any prescribed religion may say anything from the filthiest of nasty-talk porn mouth shit to absolutely nothing.

So, to answer your question, "Do Muslim women cry out "Oh Allah! Oh Mohammad!" the answer is no and the answer is yes. Who knows? And, who can categorize woman anyway. Women are [yo, chicks START HERE], women are goddesses. Every woman is a unique and beautiful diamond; perfect and precious. From the top of their perfect little heads to the tips of their tiny feet, woman simply outclass, outsmart, and outlook anything else under god's/Google's great green earth. Each one is special,

How dare anyone try to put women into categories? Here's an answer, want to know what a particular woman says during sex? Ask her (or, obviously, see if you can mack like Dennis Kucinich and see if you can find out first hand).

Just a guess.

- Ty



glee (n.) 1. Jubilant delight; joy.

"Glee" is the only word that describes my emotions with the 8-seed Golden State "City" Warriors beating the 1-seed "Mavericks" from Dallas four games to two.



I Thought I Was So OCD

But no.
Results of Your
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Screening Quiz

You scored a total of 2.

You have answered this self-report questionnaire in such a way as to suggest that you do not likely currently suffer from an obsessive-compulsive disorder. You should not take this as a diagnosis or recommendation for treatment in any way, though.
Dammit! Not even close (20 questions). [clicky, Ricky]

Dammit, I'm gonna go wash my hands now.


Téodor: I want him to seem like he wonders if he cares abut anything. But in a good way.

Ray: Whoah! He's a little psycho! I want to play with that little psycho and learn his name!


From "DP" of "DPEP":
1. Thanks for keeping the older songs alive. I realized that I wrote "for a while" the summer of my 19th birthday. That was a long time ago. I remember clearly every moment writing the song - in my head without knowing how to play guitar other than a little bassline. I also remember clearly every moment recording it with Rich and R-clicky stick-J. maybe I wished, but I never thought, still haven't thought that anyone would pay attention to it.

2. Nice chops! again, I don't know where to begin in trying to dissect these great recordings.

3. Oh, come on.

4. Yes it is a way to evolve. Take those memories and add these updates. It's incredible how we can hear (and how you guys can play) differently with space and time and everything we know now. I recently heard rich say that he's willing, no, wanting to play out a little bit. how's that for evolution?

By the way, I just finished writing new song #5. They're good. The new album is starting to take shape... all it needs is a band...


Feedback: FMS

  • You really out-did yourself this time.
  • It’s amazing. So many magic moments. And 47 seconds that blasts you right into outer space.
  • The first listen I was lost. Like anything good on the first listen. I didn't understand Physical Graffiti or Bach's Musical Offerings the first few times through either. At first it was chaos. But of course it's not chaos. The thing about the human brain is it can really only concentrate on one thing at a time. The first few listens my mind didn't know what to concentrate on. Track 2, there's someone speaking. So of course I'm trying to understand what he's saying. Then there's guitar. Didn’t really even notice or pay attention to it at first. But it's great. And after a few listens, and the mind as had a chance to hear everything individually (like trying to understand a 6 part fugue), it can be taken in as a whole. And you got to feel the whole, all the way around, so you know what you're dealing with, right?
  • …and I don't even know where I am in the piece, lost, don't know even what track I'm on, but it ends and my eyes open, I let out a laugh of joy, and say "Shit. I hope there's more."
  • Mr. Weem's may be the instant classic, but Rain's Blues is the masterpiece. Very Ween/Big Dafe Wafe. I hope the next trilogy is full of Rain's Blues.
  • The end of Freak Smellish, that's what does the launching. And then Rain's Blues brings you back down. Guitar more as a percussion instrument? Genius.
  • This entire thing is so full of joy and light. And if making someone feel bad for not doing anything with their own life is inspiration, then that's what it is.
  • Definitely a set-up track, and intro, definitely not arrogant. This is what a set-up track means to me. Getting comfortable. Are the headphones on right? Is the pillow in the right place? Maybe I won't use a pillow, I'll just lie flat. Wait, it's a little too loud, too quiet. Shit, this cord's in the way. OK, everything's good now. And at around three minutes, guess what's just kicking in? All ready for the show now.
  • 1) The first HEARING; 2) Took the afternoon off; 3) Rain's Blues is GENIUS BRILLIANT.


So, I received this in the electronical mailings today:
"With all intended respect and appreciation....It's been a pleasure, Jimmy Jangle. It's a monster fucking song. I'm not shitting. It's your finest or at least my favorite of all time."
Oh, and there was a file attached.

[clicky, Tricky]

Oh, that's how the guitar is played. Guh! And, this is the answer to "why" I make records.

P.S. Oh shit! Talk about omens. I just listened to the RP duet on "Rain's Blues" and the iTunes shuffled Jimi's "...and the Gods made love" directly afterwards. Damn.