Click images for desktop size: “Surrender To The Light” by Michael Parkes I like women.
Not just the price for being a heterosexual. I like women as people, as different to men, as right side brain thinkers and left side brain processors.
I like women.
There’s the women who make you feel like a million bucks for a little while. Until you wake up in the morning and find your wallet and car keys are missing and you have to borrow bus fare from your next door neighbor who you’ve never talked to before.
There are the playful women who want to be your mistress and your best buddy.
For some women its more important that you fall in love with them, more important than the fact that they don’t love, probably don’t even like you.
There’s the women who want to pay their own way, want to be seen as an equal at least in monetary things, but still leave you out there alone when it matters the most.
There are women who are stronger than any man could ever hope to be, who can hold a families world of weight on their shoulders as if it were nothing, who never blanch, only cry to themselves and scold themselves for doing so. These women build homes and have love for everyone who matters.
There are women who look at you with longing eyes even though they know that you can’t fill the bill or fit into their fantasies, fantasies they hide deep within themselves and hope you’ll care enough to dig out.
Some women look like a dream and it costs every cent of 400 bucks a day to keep that dream intact.
Some women are a dream and are neither here nor there but always there and then.
There are he angry women who fight with you about everything and can keep the fight going all the time. They’re even angrier when you finally, quietly, slip away to heal.
Click images for desktop size: “Three Women” by Rajasthani There are women who hate you for things that have nothing to do with you, and they always call you at 3 in the morning to tell you about it but they never answer why or how this hatred came to be.
Some women condemn you for anonymous crimes in their past and see you as only a symbol of the hurt they carry around inside.
There are organized women who keep a palm pilot and a filofax and are always squeezing you in on Friday. They pick the restaurant and always have to go before you can say you hate that place and they’ve alread said, “Meet you there at 7ish”. They’re always rushed and always glad to see you and always leave just before the check shows up.
Some women have a hollowness that permeates to them. They look to you to fill and repair them.
There are women who’ve formed their own lives and aren’t afraid to welcome you into it.
There are women who see you as a chunk of concrete that they will mold and break into the image they have of whatever a man should be but their vision is messed up and all they do is break you.
Then there are the reformers. They like you because your cute and your dark and maybe kind of bad and they think they’ll pixey you into the light and then you’ll be Prince Charming and your motorcylce will become a black stallion that only cantors along frothy beaches.
There are women who dream and then forget the dream because, even today, they’re only just a girl.
There are the women who reshape themselves to make it seem that they are a part of your dream and they never act but only react because they don’t want to see you ever wake up and see them as they really are.
There are women who build empires with a ruthless dispassion that terrifies and they expect you too see them as only a flesh and blood woman.
Then there are women like my friend. Who stand proud of what they are and what they have done. Who see you as an equal. Who are nervous about giving of themselves but courageous enough to try. Who can accept your flaws and imperfections as easily as they see your strengths and prowess. Who is strong enough to love you for what you are and to be loved for what she is. To put up with your crap and to still love you after a fight. To tell you secrets and to help when you’ve got problems and not afraid to look for help when she has problems. Who probably aren’t offended by a catalog like this.
I like women.
I think there are more women as individuals then there are men.
Guys are lucky in that way.
Click images for desktop size: “Sans Titre” by Love 1008 I used to have a friend named Chris. Chris published a fanzine. It wasn’t like most of the fanzines I read or played around with, his was angry. It took itself seriously but had enough of a sense of humor to get away with being angry and serious.
What drew m to Chris and his magazine was his interest in the “Cinema Of Transgression”. Nick Zedd used the little zine to promote a lot of his more political rhetoric and personal hype and propaganda. Zedd and Chris parted acrimoniously. It was more than sort of inevitable.
Chris was sincere and not blind to his idol’s clay feet.
My interest, at that time, was more in a fringe member of the “Transgression” clique, Richard Kern.
I liked Kern’s movies. I liked the politics of them. I liked the politics of his shooting style and his use of film and his excitement over film as opposed to video.
I liked how the punk movement tied into his own vision and how he melded his own edgy world view with the nihilistic values and charged sexuality and promoted celibacy of the punk thing.
I wasn’t blind to the fetish element in some of his work but it wasn’t what interested me. I was surprised that Kern is now making more off of heavy coffee table books of his fetish photography than he ever made from his movies.
While it was Zedd who was getting Time Square openings with Scorsesee and glitterati attention Kern kept making films that got shown on a sheet at the punk clubs in New York while the next band set up. It was cool and sometimes Kern’s little movies even got billing over the bands. (At least on the fly sheet hand outs.)
Kern was involved with East Coast Punk Diva Lydia Lunch, who ended up involved with Black Flag frontman, Henry Rollins. They did poetry readings together . . . actually Lydia would yell at people in the crowd. If any of them yelled back Henry would jump off stage and beat them up.
In a time when the Kipper Kids, two grown men, would appear at clubs naked, wearing bathing caps and throw paint and blood on the audience I guess that yelling at people and then beating them up qualifies as a poetry reading.
One of the Kipper Kids married Bette Midler. Henry Rollins is now doing direct to video horror films and MC’ing some whack reality game show.
Click images for desktop size: “Shy” by Any Mouse Time does ruin everything.
Anyway, back to Chris.
Eventually Chris moved to LA and got some other crazy to finance his little zine as a semi-serious, nasty and cynical FILM MAGAZINE! With full color covers and national distribution. Rah!
Now the main thing that reminded me of Chris this week is that he LOVED to get abusive phone calls and letters. He loved hate mail to the point that he would not pay bills so that he’d get collection letters and phone calls.
He enjoyed fighting with people. He liked the little battles.
Maybe it kept him in shape for the big wars ahead, I don’t know. It was the overwhelming thing I remember of him.
Even though I remember him fondly and warmly, I don’t share his enjoyment of hate mail. Notes and letters from people I don’t know or barely know, especially notes that I think are intended to hurt me don’t faze me at all. I hope I don’t anger anyone by saying I look at them with detached id sometimes wry amusement. I’d like to get a clever one.
People whom I know and like on the other hand, their displeasure doesn’t stress me but I don’t disregard it.
Well except for the one berating me for not posting my brilliant analysis of the Pro Bowl . . . Have they played that yet? Does anyone know the score? Does anyone remember who won last years Pro Bowl?
Most of the, I guess, justifiable flack comes from the “Comments” thing.
I recently turned on comments here, more as an experiment to see how well they are working so I could consider turning them on for my puppy’s blog.
Movable Type now uses a thing called Askimet to filter out spam comments. For my puppy’s site it works well enough and mixing it with other tools lets me selectively allow certain ips and identifiers comments through with no problem.
Here I get about 50 spam comments an hour. To prohibit them going through to either being published or moderated I’ve had to set the security so high that it seems ALL comments get reported as spam . . .
Click images for desktop size: “Mortality 2” by Akjareshe This really doesn’t bother me that much.
I’ve been trying to scan through the comments and glean out any real things. Like casinos and sex sites are pretty easy to discern. Some of them are more clever, at least clever enough for me to have to look at them more closely and find them annoying.
I did pull a couple of comments out of the spam, all from strangers as I recall. One I actually wasn’t sure was genuine . . . it might have been spam, I just wasn’t sure and on that day I decided to let it through.
On most days I find myself looking at a about half, getting bored and annoyed and just dumping them all. Recently I’m down to looking at the first page of 50 and then just dumping them all . . .
So if you’re mad a t me because your carefully worded retort isn’t published I’m sorry, blame me for being lazy but not for being uncaring.
Better yet blame the spammers. Or “Blame Canada”.
Better yet email me and ask me to publish your comment. I do like reading what you have to say.
I always have.
Click images for desktop size: “Anime Wall” by MangaMan This morning I got an email from an old “friend”. Friend is in quotes because a friend probably wouldn’t send me an email like this. A “friend” would . . .
The link was to myheitagefiles.com. They’ve created this rather nifty web app that scans a photo of you and then cross references certain traits to its database of celebrities finally coming up with a percentile based match. Then it will create a short video morphing and combining your and the celebrities portrait I guess to confound you with how little the two of you look alike.
I won’t tell my friends name. He clearly has enough shame in his life to deal with. His email had the note, “I bet they match you with Richard Gere!”
Back in the 80’s I used to get told I looked a lot like Richard Gere . . . I also got told once I looked like Ronnie Milsap (a country western guy) I guess because we both wore shades on stage.
I used to hate Richard Gere, not personally and not for anything he’d actually done. In fact he’s been a pretty outstanding advocate for human rights in Tibet, not the easiest cause to stand up for and oddly not a very popular one. He’s calmly and with calm self effacing humor stood proud about his belief in Bhuddism, another not very PR related subject.
I had a friend who worked with closely with him on “Breathless”. He said he was a decent guy and much easier to deal with then most celebrity actors.
So I’m at a loss as to why I hate Richard Gere.
Then I remember. “American Gigolo”. He became an image and an icon for some creepy stuff. But more to the point I used to love Armani shirts (still do, I guess, just haven’t bought any in such a long time that they now seem beyond extravagantly expensive). After “American Gigolo” I couldn’t wear an Armani shirt without someone pointing and saying “American Gigolo” or some crack from the movie.
I guess if you’re gong to hate someone its best to have an inane and totally trivial reason and logic behind it.
I don’t hate the costumer who put Gere into Armani, or even Paul Schrader for okaying that he wear it. I decided to take the cowardly and easy way out and despise the icon for reducing the size of my wardrobe . . .
Click images for desktop size: “First Love” by Romero Britto I was in the studio when one of the women who worked with us told us this story about Gere. Her boyfriend was an emergency doctor at Cedars Sinai and he related to her what she related to me; the mini-scandal about gerbils in rectums.
To my disgrace I felt a grim satisfaction at the shame of my nemesis’s embarrassment. That’s the price and reward for blind irrational hatred, I think.
Back to my friend’s email. I uploaded a rather ugly but handy pic. I watched the web app make a big cool production out of scanning my face and slashing through its database when it came back that the celebrity I most resembled, out of the thousands in their database was . . . Richard Gere . . .
I sent the links to my friend here and to her ever loving credit she couldn’t see the resemblance at all.
That is why she is my friend.
That and because she can tolerate a guy who still carries a passionate dislike for a good person who got a job that made me not wear a half dozen shirts . . .
I’m using the latest beta of ecto. Beta 31 . . . and I have to admit that amongst all the constant and sundry changes a few of them actually please me. While I can’t break from my “work flow” and stop using MarsEdit for the final touches of my posts ecto is probably the best app going for maintaining Movable Type, WordPress, Drupal etc.
Very cool. I’m happy with it past just wanting it to work and make my life easier. It now is making things much simpler. It has a way to go yet but it is on track and moving ahead quickly.
Yesterday I was pleased to come to the conclusion that I have finally gotten all my blood levels back in check. After this timid conclusion I read an online piece in the New York Times about a recent study that had to end early. It seems that strict and excessive control of blood sugars were causing too many death in the study group . . . I’m on what they call a “strict and excessive control” plan . . .
They ended the study after 4 years because people were dropping dead on them. Way too many.
Spokesmen said that they hadn’t analyzed the data yet but were already saying things like, “maybe those people were all sicker than we thought” . . .
They did agree that cholesterol levels and blood pressure are a contributing factor and my blood pressure and cholesterol are all excellent.
I also know that the reason for my “strict etc” plan has more to do with the blood chemistry changes from all the chemo’s but its still disquieting hearing about people dying willy nilly because of one of the diseases you’re carrying around . . .
Click images for desktop size: “Beware Of Angels” by Illegible Not as disquieting as dying though.
And there’s a new movie I’m dying to see this weekend! Turok: Son Of Stone.
Its based on an old comic book I remember from when I was kid. Its done in old school tacky Saturday Morning cartoon style animation but with gore and guys getting limbs cut off!
And its about Indians fighting DINOSAURS! Bow and arrow and a tomahawk against Tyrannosaurus Rex!
Entertainment doesn’t get any better than this!
Indians fighting dinosaurs.
Well, at least I’m excited.
I get accused of not liking animation. Most animated movies bore me. I don’t like any of the Disney stuff and feel justified since Disney wantonly killed a few dozen PUPPIES to make a turgid thing called “Snow Buddies”.
I thought “Hoodwinked” was okay but remember none of those other animated movies had INDIANS. FIghting DINOSAURS!
I bet its great.
Click images for desktop size: “Friends” Yesterday was not a very good day.
As usual the Super Bowl was disappointing. The play was horrific except for the incredible work by the Giants front four. And the gave the MVP to Eli Manning? Not giving it to a member of the D-Line was a shocking disgrace.
The officiating was the worst I’ve seen in a game this year, let alone in a Super Bowl. In a close game the refs were a factor. I have no idea if the results would have been different but I dislike the idea that it could have been.
Fox should pay two billion dollars to broadcast the game next year.
I can understand using the showcase to promote themselves but 6 hours of tedium featuring American Idol? The best thing about Ryan Seacrest is that when “American Idol” fades we’ll never hear from that talentless boring yobbo again.
Tome Petty didn’t embarrass himself. The NFL is run by old rich men. They have no feel for the community or for the people in it. The only thing that makes the NFL viable is the beauty of the game.
These are the fools who booked Sting and the Rolling Stones and thought they were hitting the pulse of America . . .
I’ll never forget the 2001 World Bowl (NFL-Europe -defunct- Championship) when they thought they’d attract the young punters by booking a true youth Superstar – Coolio . . . that was in 2001 . . .
Tom Petty is going to be playing up here. Tickets are obscenely expensive. I’ve written to his manager and tried to cage a couple of free ones . . . who knows.
The Super Bowl pre-game stuff used to be a bit staid but within that confine it would sometimes show sparks of vitality.
Like before Super Bowl VI they showed a brilliant two hour documentary on a semi-pro football team from Pottsdale PA. It was an excellent film. It showed people playing the game for nothing with the same dedication and hard bite that every player in the NFL displays. It showed love and the blood of the game, a love stained only with the players own blood.
Click images for desktop size: “Bees” by Nature Photos Or else there’d be some excellent footage from NFL Films. Always with creepy soundtracks but stuff you’d never get to see anywhere else, before or since. It was creative and had a sense of the beauty it was trying to impart.
Now the pre game seems like mainly marketing. I guess it was inevitable but I miss the old stuff. Which makes me feel really really old.
To complete the mediocre day I saw “John Rambo”. It was everything “Rocky Balboa” wasn’t. Mainly it was rotten!
No point and second rate action.
The only real interesting thing to me was that Stallone has been watching some Asian action flics.
The war and carnage sequences were swiped from the Red Chinese “Assembly”. Hollywood did make them look a touch better but not to as devastating an effect.
The film was also loaded with well known Thai stuntmen! There were heavily underused. They used a crew that were in the Thai “Born to Fight”. In the Thai film some of these guys bounced from a helicopter to a moving truck bed to a motorcycle to the ground ALL IN ONE TAKE! Nothing near as jaw dropping here, which may have pleased them. Nice for them to make more money and not have to nearly kill yourself.
I never really met Stallone, except once on an elevator at Universal’s Black Tower. I was surprised at how short he was. I actually thought he was an impersonator except when he got off on his floor their were an appropriate number of toadies greeting him with “Hello, Mr Stallone”.
Thing is that this is the guy who married Brigette Neilsen after she introduced herself by sending him a nude life sized photo statue of herself.
I don’t think he gets good advice and when he does he may not listen to it.
Everything that was good in “Rocky Balboa” is absolutely missing here. There’s no real plot, just a device. No real characters, just faces that pop in and out. No empathy, no cheering, no feel that these are people being torn to shreds. And the Rambo character has nothing behind him. Nothing feels right.
“First Blood” directed by Ted Post was a very cool little movie that gave thrills and violent pleasure with a very loaded message.
“Rambo: First Blood 2” was kind of silly but still remembered emotions and people. It was cool head cracking fun.
“Rambo 3” was a mistake. An expensive one but a mistake.
Click images for desktop size: “People In The Sun” by E Hopper “John Rambo” is like a mescal nightmare you forget five minutes after you wake up and vomit.
My friend and I did get to watch “Ginji The Slasher”. An odd movie I can’t make up my mind about. That’s usually a good sign, when you can’t decide about a film.
Its a bout kamikaze pilots. Was there ever a more vicious looking weapon that the kamikaze zero?
Its about this fellow Ginji, who became a dark legend. After surviving his career as a kamikaze he tries to survive in war devastated Japan. The Americans are there and the Americans corrupt everything. In the imagery there are some pretty painful correlations to America’s current involvement in Iraq.
His ex-commander has taken Ginji on as an employee, seducing him with promises of rebuilding Japan, getting the money and the power to correct the devastation. He betrays Ginji’s trust and in a mad attempt to kill the ex-commander Ginji slaughters twenty of his boss’s yakuza bodyguards.
Ginji believes his entire life was created so that he could be fated to die, to die with honor. Instead he ends up in prison for fifty years.
He comes out and the world has changed, His ex-commander is now a former Prime Minister of Japan who writes articles on marine biology while he plans to resurrect the draft and recreate Japan’s armies. Ginji is a legend. Children play “Ginji The Slasher” games. But he is an old man and wants only to sit and wait until he can die.
The old world won’t let him. The modern world is still terrified of him. Everyone wants something from him and he just wants to be left alone. Alone to die.
Its an interesting crazy film. Crazy in a Tashaki Miike “Ichi The Killer” sort of mode. Its not that frenetic. I guess it couldn’t be when the lead is an 80 year old man. But while “Ichi The Killer” is wild and driven on hormones “Ginji The Slasher” is cool and full of thoughtfulness, hopes and dreams.
Its an excessive move with pretty imagery, gushing sword wounds, and a tiny bit of hope. I still don’t quite know what I think of it.
Click images for desktop size: “Vertigo” by Isil Metriel I like fashion.
I like trying to make your outside look like what’s going on inside.
I like that fashion always changes. The new pushing out the old until we realize some of the old was pretty cool and then we bring it back.
Its not considered uber-hip to like clothes. It implies that you judge a person by what he or she looks like . . .
Is there any one who doesn’t do that? Maybe not judge, judge carries a harsh connotation, but you certainly form an opinion about someone based on the way they present themselves, the way they look.
I’ve only known one instance where that’s time proven untrue. I know a lot of people and I’ve only met one guy who didn’t just see a surface. He did at the start but he was able to look beyond that. Not lip service see beyond that but with a full and open heart see beyond that. Another guy named David was super good looking. He ran track and when he was out in the field the women’s hearts were all fluttering. I heard more women make licentious remarks about David then I ever heard guys make, even in a locker room.
David was married. When he first introduced me to his wife I was taken back. She was most likely the homeliest woman I had ever seen.
When I got to know her I discovered she was also one of the most intelligent, aware, kind people I’d ever known. Blindly loyal, discerningly loving. She was a total package of all you could ever dream of in a person, on the inside . . . when you were around her it was easy to forget what she looked like.
David and she have three kids. They are deeply and fiercely in love with each other. They are good for each other.
Everyone else I’ve known or met doesn’t have enough in them to look past the surface. It takes a lot of prodding, a lot of heart searching to see inside and ignore the outside. I’d say its rare.
For the rest of us we’re attracted by what we see first. When you see someone in clothes, those clothes make a statement. Seeing someone out of their clothes makes a different statement, for sure. Between those two states of dress the first one is the way you’re dressed.
Its not rules. Its not even common sense. Its just appreciating that people view you with either the same, wider or narrower perspective than you view others. Some mad geniuses can pull it off, not caring about their appearances. How many mad geniuses do you know? I know a couple. After they’ve had their talents acknowledged they still dressed the same way except on big nights, gallery openings or the like.
Click images for desktop size: “Yosemite” by Matt Mosher Most often they dress to the max and develop an affectation. Tuxedo’s with electric spinning bow ties come to mind. (seriously)
I always put a lot of thought into how I looked.
I don’t much anymore. Mirrors aren’t the friends they used to be.
I went through stages along with the rest of the youth of SoCal. I never went in for disco, but I did own a sparkly jacket from Fiorrucci’s . . . it was on sale . . .
For punk I wore a denim jacket safety pinned with symmetrical patterns. If I was on stage I wore a cowboy tuxedo with a lot of pins and a Boris Badenov T-Shirt (from the Rocky and Bullwinkle Store).
Then it degraded to leather jeans and manga T-Shirts. Then in an up life jeans with black polished cotton shirts and burgundy chamois dangling from my wrists (which, contrary to opinion weren’t a fashion statement. I sweat a lot and I kept getting shocks from mikes and guitar pick ups. They hurt. The chamois stopped most of them.)
And now I wear what I got. Supplemented by 10 minute raids to the department stores.
I still look and think about how this will make me look and then I don’t think about it much anymore.
I’ve run all the experiments with Light Box. It is nifty and does almost everything I want.
I have to give them some thought. I do like that its pretty simple to make the Light Box interface look how I want it and even beyond. Maybe I can change some of of the script.
Click images for desktop size: “Men In Hats” by Dimage I love my dogs.
Out shoveling snow early this morning, a nasty heavy snow with an 3 inch undercurrent of re-freezing slush. I was shoveling because there’s a promise of freezing rain (is that what I thought of as sleet?).
The pups were all out with me, gallivanting and having a wonderful time. The only problem I had with that is that they have to always be within the 3 X 3 area I declare as my personal space.
So fascinated with the idea that I might actually do something interesting that they had to be as close as possible. Clearly I’ve never done much interesting but if I ever should they can’t bear the idea of missing it.
I liked their enthusiastic curiosity, even if it did make a drudge task longer and harder.
While laughing at them dogs made me think of Fifo and the old Fidonet. The fore runner of email.
Back in that ancient time of 14400 baud dial up modems it took a person to set up an electronic Bulletin Board, (BBS). Sometimes they were set up by lonely kids or lonelier men and women, as a way to talk to people somehow. Some guys were a bit more far seeing. The internet didn’t exist but they conceived of an idea to build a network from from the disparate BBS’s.
You joined Fido and your commitment was that you logged in at least 4 times a day and downloaded the Fido Mail. Then I, as a guy who logged into your BBS could go in and pick up my mail . . . at its best this meant I could get an email in less that 4 hours . . . In the days before the Bell break up, before MCI and Sprint this seemed rather incredible. When local calls were always free and snail mail took about a week from NYC and 2 weeks from Europe to get a long letter in four hours for FREE was, well, the start of something bigger.
With the internet came email, which was my personal favorite, and USENET, which I still adore (and enjoy the fact that it is, for the most part, pretty much ignored and neglected) and the WWW. So much information and it was just there. So cool. It was a kid who told me about it, how I could find almost everything on “the web”.
Click images for desktop size: “Old” by Unknown It was easy to imagine a new world, a world with information freely available to anyone, to everyone. All that information naturally led you to an informed opinion.
What goods an opinion unless you can lay it on somebody.
This led to a whole lot of personal “web pages”. Just like in “real life” the opinions expressed were mighty extreme. And it always seemed that the more extreme the stand, the more out there and the insane the logic the more it was supported by links to other web pages written by similarly uneducated people. So you had uneducated distillation of facts being used to support another uneducated illogical distillation of facts where each of these peoples take their opinion and through some alchemy transform their opinions into hard facts.
(I do put a lot of value into education. I have degrees, sure, but mine are in the arts which puts their value, especially when considering complicated matters, slightly below a trade school diploma. In fact I consider that a trade school diploma would be a better investment than an MFA. It takes training of a kind I don’t have to absorb conflicting and sometimes con-contiguous info and pare it down to a single seed of truth. I don’t have it and neither do any of the pandering jerks on TV and radio who sell cock-eyed opinions for sponsorship dollars.)
There was no way to comment on a web page. So the only thing to do was to create your own web page to refute the other guys claims. It was a lot of fun. It got so big that they invented the Web Log, like this one.
With a web log you didn’t have to learn html you just started posting your opinions. And it just keeps growing.
Its freedom. I like that a plenty. You need no credentials you just need to get it out there and you’re on the same footing, the same distribution level as the New York Times. (Same goes for music and books too!)
Click images for desktop size: “Superman” by Jim Lee & DC Comics Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about while I shoveled the snow and watched the dogs while they looked to see if I did anything interesting.
The primaries are sort of drawing to a conclusion.
I didn’t get to vote. I still don’t feel that strongly about anybody running to register with a party. There’s not even anyone I hate enough to vote against them. That is a sorry state of affairs when with all this mess we’re in no one can even rise vitriol. Sorry for me and the country. I’ll vote for the candidates I guess after someone else decides who they should be.
I thought the primary results themselves were pretty interesting, and some of them even horrifying.
Fo the Democrats it looks like a dog fight between Clinton and Obama. You can see how this can only help the super underdog Republicans.
As a guy who once voted for Jerry Brown for Governor and then Mike Curb for Lt Governor I get kind of evilly wry at the idea of a Clinton/Obama ticket. It also seems like a sure loser somehow.
I did notice that in the states Obama won, he won huge – landslide type figures. While where Clinton won she won by decent but hardly overpowering margins (except in New York and Arkansas where she cleaned up big time.)
For me the biggest shock was that Clinton took about 60% of the hispanic vote!
While I find something distasteful about Obama’s plans to handle immigration I find Clinton’s record to be disgusting. Maybe the guys already over the border don’t want anyone else coming cross.
On the Republican side McCain seems like a slightly less evil Bush. I like that he’s despised by for being too moderate a conservative. Only a declared racist idiot like Rush Limbaugh would take someone to task for being rational.
What has to be keeping the Democrats happy is that Huckabee too enough delegates to broker himself a position of power at the Republican convention.
Huckabee seems like a reasonable enough guy. And his opinions aren’t lunacy when applied to a family but they seem mad dog theocracy when you take them and inflict them on a nation, especially a nation so deeply wounded by Bush and these same Republicans.
Huckabee seems one of those things I run into but can respect, a good man with wildly divergent opinions on life.
So that is my wildly uneducated but well informed opinion on the nation’s politics.
Click images for desktop size: “Just A Face” by Anonymous
I remembered but I forgot to mention it. Which is the same as forgetting in most eyes.
Forty nine years ago on February 3 Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and JP “Jape” The Big Bopper” Richardson died.
They like to call it the day the music died.
There’s been plenty written about Buddy Holly. He was a total teen genius. Cool enough to write the songs, self effacing enough to ask Gene Vincent for Gene’s autograph, tough enough to play his guitar louder than anyone before him, self confident enough to walk out of a Nashville recording session because the punk kid from Texas knew the way he wanted his music to sound.
Holly has had Oscar nominated movies made about him. His songs are still covered by the oddest collection of bands imaginable. There’s a mediocre play in London featuring a Buddy Holly imitator that’s been running for 14 years. (The songs in it definitely are not rocking or rolling).
The coolest story I ever heard about him was during a magazine interview I did with Mamie Van Doren. She bought him up because Holly was going to be in “Girl’s Town” with her and Eddie Cochran! (Cochran was in the final movie, very cool.) Both stars were at Van Doren’s house practicing and trying out new tunes, playing on her piano . . . I think everybody knows about Buddy Holly.
People all know about Ritchie Valens too. The movie, La Bamba, still gets rented, still gets shown on TV and still barely gives a glimpse into the 19 year old hispanic kid who tore apart the nation. Listen to Valen’s “Live at Pacoima High School” or to his acoustic basement demo of “Come On Lets Go” to understand the passion, the fun and the teen genius that was roiling in the nation. Maybe he was as troubled as they made him looked but his music was all about the love and the fun.
Yet nobody talks about the Big Bopper. Which is a shame.
When they show him in any of the movies he is always represented by some dull looking fat guy. If he gets to do anything its to play some light comic relief. The Bopper was more than that.
Click images for desktop size: “Anime” by Mota He was at least the guy who bought pure sexual lust into the Top Ten.
He came out of East Texas, a town close to Louisiana, Beaumont.
I had a friend, an actor-songwriter-guitarist, who came out of Beaumont. It was Jape Richardson who turned him onto the entertainment world, who made him see that the world never could end at the horizon. My friend and I had breakfast two or three times a week. Whenever the conversation would lull – meaning when we weren’t discussing our plans to take over Hollywood, he’d tell me about Boudan Sausage and working for JP Richardson at the little Rock & Roll radio station in East Texas.
None of the stories were spectacular. I guess, being a 12 year old gopher and watching Richardson set a world record by broadcasting straight for over 5 days, playing nothing but Rock & roll, counts as something beyond cool and certainly a memorable picture.
While none of the stories were spectacular they all painted a picture of a wild man held in check by responsibilities. Richardson had a wife and daughter. Richardson was cool and only needed a tiny bit of prodding, usually from himself, to go out on a tight wire. He wanted kicks. He got them. And during a time when the radio was the only window to a teenaged world of sunshine, surfing, hot rods, unrequited love and cheap sex The Big Bopper pointed the way.
He wrote Country Music Legend George Jones first number one record, “White Lightening”. (Mighty mighty pleasing my pappy’s corn squeezings). And followed that up with the Number 1 hit for Johnny Preston, “Running Bear”. It sounded like a kid’s song but it was cool and driven by The Bopper himself providing the Indian style doo wop background vocal.
He wrote a lot of very cool tunes even a totally whacked out of the stratosphere Christmas tune that is indispensable to my enjoying the season.
Of course the big one was “Chantilly Lace”. The Bopper talking on the phone with the next object of his cool lust, “Oh baby you know what I like!” was more than a catch phrase, it was a way of life. So totally cool that JAYNE MANSFIELD recorded an answer record, pretending to be the girl on the other end of the line. (“That Makes It” I don’t have a copy of it, which is also a shame.)
He did a “sequel” to “Chantilly Lace” (and lets face it, what lace would he be talking about when talking about a girl with pony tail hanging down, who giggled when she talks and wiggles when she walks, oh baby you know what I like! The lace at her throat? Only if the Bopper was into corsets.).
Click images for desktop size: “Book Cover” by JW McGinnis It went beyond anything that had been recorded and hit the top 40. “The Big Bopper’s Wedding” tore away all convention and said out loud what every teen age boy knew in his heart.
And then “The Big Bopper” died.
He gets treated like an after thought, a foot note to history. I think he was a lot more than that. I think a part of him would care but for the most part he’d just want to keep on drinking and keep on winking at the pretty girls as they walked by.
I like that.
I don’t think I could convince anyone to feel the same way.
I like that too.
Our neighbor is moving in 10 days.
I regret that in my life I have never lost a good neighbor and gotten a better one in their place.
I’ve lost bad neighbors and gotten worse . . . Maybe it just means I’m due.
Money is still a problem. Isn’t it always?
Click images for desktop size: “Frankenstein” by Trace
You were right.
I was wrong.
The Giants front four played like a dream and Eli Manning delivered when it mattered.
Congratulations to the Giants’ fans and to the team.
Click images for desktop size: “Untitled” by H.R. Pepnx II I really believe that, except the Super Bowl is the last game. Last game of the season.
There’s still the Pro Bowl. I seldom watch it. They actually broadcast it in Europe! Didn’t watch it then either.
They started the hype pretty late for this game. Sports Illustrated is saying that if the Patriots don’t win they’ll go down in history as the greatest disappointment ever . . . which seems more than a little bit harsh.
The only real stories are about Plaxico Buress running his mouth about an easy Giants victory then not practicing except for a 50 minute walk through. Maybe he thinks that way he’ll be rested and his new found “chemistry” with Eli Manning will take over and win it for them.
There’s been a little bit of sniping, not much, about Tom Brady’s ankle. I wouldn’t put too much into that. The only thing it will do is that every time Brady goes down or walks with a limp the announcers will get to talk about “the boot” and wonder if Brady will be able to continue.
Pete Carroll, USC head coach and former Patriot HC, said he can’t see much of a chance for the Patriots to lose. “The Giants will have to hit him often and hard to have a chance.” He predicts a two touchdown victory for New England.
Personally, I can see a rout, but not by the Giants.
Assuming that the Giants front four can step their game up and reek havoc on Brady there’s still a decent running game.
The Giants line backers are going to have to account for Wes Welker out of the slot, Maroney and Faulk on the screens and the scary thought of Moss on the end around. They’ll offer little support except on blitzes and blitzing Brady is a dangerous proposition. He picks up the blitz well and does a quick check down.
It will have to be line backer blitzes and they had best work because bringing a safety or CB on a blitz will mean that Stallworth, Gaffney and Moss will be virtually uncovered. They’re studs and they can read the blitz too and will know to cut off their routes and give Brady a target.
Going the other way, the biggest joker is Buress. Its really hard to say how well he can play. Not practicing for nearly 2 weeks is not comforting. If Buress can go he can create some points for the Giants.
Click images for desktop size: “Biomechanical Arm” by Chris ConteIf he’s not fit I’d expect some close calls and near catches and an occasional brilliant play, but the game will then go to screens and the TE.
The short passing game and the running game will chew up the clock and eat up chunks of yardage. Having seen this team before, and given Billichek’s history on facing opponents with two weeks prep, I wouldn’t expect that sort of offense to rack up a whole lot of points.
The Patriots will bring a lot of pressure. They think they can still rattle Manning. Maybe, but I think not. The biggest threat will still be the running game.
Casting aside the fact that I want to see history made. I want to see the winning team that still looks like outsiders make history. I want to see a 19-o team with this group of stars, misfits and cast offs do the impossible.
Putting that aside this could be the biggest rout in Super Bowl history with the Patriots leaving the field ready to do it all over again next year. And remembering the last time an AFC came in heavily favored against an NFC team with nothing but a stout defense and a ball control offense I still feel the same way. (That was Buc’s v Raiders where the Buc’s blew them out.)
Patriots 49 Giants 27
I’ve gotten the link page semi-organized. It looks better (but is far from complete) and should be more useful.
At least you should be able to find things a bit easier.
There are still things to add especially for tools. I want to try and use more cross platform tools but find that most of the ones that will work on Macintosh and Windows to be rather poor.
Of course I’m thinking about some of the colors (getting the look unified, but distinct, easy to read but sooting) and getting my AJAX code re-written to do the nifty little previews. I still feel I need to apologize for the advertising. At least Snap let me choose non-profti adverts that benefit Save A Child.
Click images for desktop size: “Whirlwind Riders” by Unknown Lot of snow . . .
I don’t know if I’ll ever get really used to it but while I was shoveling I had the thought of how sad it would be when this all goes away. I guess I rather like the cold and the white, somehow. I can’t imagine why.
Other than that its been a blank day. Not in a bad way. Just spent waiting, listening to the iPod while I shoveled snow. Remembering how much I love music and regretting, only lightly, that my hands cramp up painfully doing the simplest tasks.
I got a chance to review things here and get paid for the reviews . . . I was right to be sceptical.
The offer was to review things like BlackJack sites, poker sites . . . the same ones, I presume, that spam me constantly. The offer was six bucks a review but I had to not just give an opinion but give the post a title, put in specified links.
I might not have much but what I’ve got is worth at more than six bucks. At least to me.
Now, I’m just waiting for the Super Bowl. here’s still not much hype about it. The biggest thing was that the Universal TV site is going to show all the Super Bowl commercials on the internet after the game . . . Rah! Commercials . . .
The other news on the game, in that vein, is that Toshiba has paid 2.7 million to air a spot promoting HDDVD. In the shortest format war to my memory, HDDVD has lost out pretty big to Sony’s Blue Ray so that seems rather like throwing good money away. In this case it smells like repromoting 8 Track tapes.
That’s really all there is.
My friend is back from her “training” for her new job. For good. At least as long as for good can ever mean.
We had Mexican food tonight.
Click images for desktop size: “Untitled” by Abraxis It wasn’t terrible. It was southern Mexican which isn’t my favorite. I liked the restaurant. They made it up special so maybe I’m to blame for not being more specific.
The owner was a pudgy woman who seemed really eager for us to be happy with her. She commented it was lonely in there tonight with the terrible snow.
She was also impressed witht he fact that I at least understood “menu spanish” and could ask about chile verde and salsa fresca. She must feel like she’s a long way from home.
My puppy is now officially a snow dog. I like that she is happy. I like that she likes to romp in the drifts and face sternly into the whipping winds. I can’t imagine what little fantasy is in her head. Its ok. She deserves her own private world.