MobileChelonian

Isobel

2007-08-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

Isobel greeting whoever descends from the deck. You know, burglars, hobos, me and Hannah - anyone.

Isobel in her poop and chew-toy filled home. It's cool and dirty, which is probably what her dog-gang name is.

Isobel looking really, really freaked out. Probably at a sudden tree root that she thinks moved. Not bright, our dog.

It Is Finished.

2007-07-29T10:55:00.000-07:00

As of Friday, I am on terminal leave from the US Navy. I no longer have a security clearance - well - I no longer have a "need-to-know" which is functionally the same thing, and I will never have to put on a uniform ever again. Or shave, really, which is nice.

This week will be spent in pursuit of doing absolutely nothing, and getting ready for our impending move to Murfreesboro, TN. I bought a house, have been accepted to MTSU, and even have a neurotic dog waiting for our arrival.

It's a strange feeling, being unemployed. Hopefully there will be no hobo breakfasts under a bridge in my near future.

Here's the house, in all its 1300 sq ft glory:

Deja Vu

2007-05-15T19:00:00.001-07:00

So a lot has happened since my last post here. I grow increasingly convinced nobody reads this anymore, probably because I wrote so little, but for those who remain, here's the scoop.

1) Hannah and I are engaged! You can go to her blog and see a picture of the ring. I proposed last month, and, after I got her drunk first, she said yes. Haha, score!

2) We are in the process of trying to buy a house. A nice, 3BR, 2BA 1300 sq ft house in Murfreesboro TN that is behind a park. Unfortunately, it also has extensive termite damage to the support piers, floor joists, and subflooring. The termites have been eradicated, and we are negotiating to try to get the seller to fix the damage before we buy. Why am I even bothering with such a damaged house? Well...

3) I've been redeployed, again. I type this from Sasebo, Japan, yet again. I have 90 days exactly left in the Navy, and 64 of them will be spent on the Essex. Once again, I am here to do nothing, purely out of a combination of spite, carelessness, and apathy on the part of my immediate superiors. Being here complicates the house buying process, thus we are trying to smartly negotiate our way into the only house we managed to actually see last week.

Those are the high points, not counting a semi-adopted dog, one good movie and a couple of mediocre ones, some good books, and watching drunk college students destroy a chandelier with their fists. Anyway, I'm back at sheehanj@lhd2.navy.mil for the next 2 months, so please, make more of an effort to stay in touch than I do.

Home.

2007-04-12T12:44:00.000-07:00

For a little while anyway. I flew in from Okinawa yesterday, and boy are my arms tired! I have my official Navy message in hand telling me that I will be a civilian on August 16th - although it is entirely possible that I'll be deploying back to the Essex again in a month as the Navy wrings every iota of sea time they possibly can out of me. It's good to be home, though, even for a little while. The next few months are going to be busy and eventful, no matter what. In early May Hannah and I will be flying to Murfreesboro to find a realtor and hopefully a house, for our August move.

I spent quite a bit of time in Japan this trip, and my opinions haven't really changed. I also got to see Korea for the first time, and it's basically like a less polite Japan. At this point, after Japan, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Guam, and Korea, I feel I've seen most everything Asia has to offer, except a ping-pong show in Thailand. I spent little money, and saw not much of interest. The foreign excursion thing isn't nearly as much fun when the person you want to go excursioning with is several thousand miles away.

Thanks to all of you who stayed in touch with me while I was deployed - hopefully you won't have to do that again!

Metal Plated Tedium,

2007-03-09T21:52:00.000-08:00

I'm on a laptop that isn't mine. Bottles of beer surround me, outside Japan rains quietly on us. I'm inport for another day, back at sea, and then back in port, and then back at sea. This is the worst vacation ever...but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I am out of the Navy on August 16th. 5 more months to freedom.

For the next 36 days I am sheehanj@lhd2.navy.mil should you want to email me. After that I can be Aaron again.

Domo Arigato, Mister Roboto

2007-01-20T12:37:00.000-08:00

This is my last day in the US for the few months, so I will see you cats all later. I am being deployed on USS Essex out of Sasebo, Japan for a little while, and since the DoD has made blogging from government computers illegal, I will be unable to update this. Once I get my email address on the ship, I will share it with you all. I'll have Hannah post it here, so if you need to get in touch with me she is the way to go.

I will be doing my part to combat terrorism by purchasing ridiculously cheap clothing direct from the sweatshops of third world Asia, so if you want to support a sailor who is fighting Islamofacists afloat, send him cookies. Don't worry with that yellow ribbon on your SUV stuff. Buy a hybrid car to reduce our dependency on foreign oil, and mail me some Pop-Tarts. Please?(Also, join the Andy Kopp fanclub).

I hope to be back in mid-April, unless we declare war on some other intangible, such as Gravity or Ohm's Law.

Peace!

Creative NonFiction Final (Installment 3, End)

2007-01-11T13:46:00.000-08:00

Cities are like languages. We construct them out of need and build them on nothing, arguing about the process the entire time. Scratch that – a city is a language, one that speaks in slums and skyscrapers, parks and people. Your city speaks to you, and the words it chooses are the ones you use to describe it to others. The study of words is called linguistics, and it can be applied across all peoples and lands – it is possible to break down every language in the world into components and analyze these atoms in order to better understand our own brains. The pieces that make up linguistics can be broadly defined as morphology, phonology, and syntax – or, in plain language, how words are formed, how they sound, and how we put them together to make sense of our sentences. These linguistics structures can also be applied to cities – for the same reason we study languages in the first place: understanding.

First, morphology. In linguistic terms, a morpheme is the smallest unit of semantic meaning. To put it bluntly, morphemes mean stuff. The word “dogs” has two morphemes - “dog” and “s”. Dog refers to a familiar four legged furry animal, and the “s” tells us there is more than one. Do you see? Morphemes are not just words, they are parts of words, indicating things like possession ('s), tense (-ed, -ing) and plurals. Observe that there are two kinds of morphemes – functional and content. Functional morphemes are the ones that are grammatically, syntactically required in a sentence. Things like -ing to indicate present tense, like happen + ing, or write + ing. By itself, -ing has no value or meaning, it must be affixed to something else. Content morphemes are just that, morphemes with semantic content, semantic meaning. Content morphemes are words by themselves, like book or dog.

Applying this to a city, one could say that a functional morpheme could be political party signs in front yards. By themselves, they have no intrinsic meaning when applied to, say, a neighborhood. But enough of them on a block can tell you something about that block, tell you that these people vote, that they are politically active, and maybe how they think. They are the possessive “'s” , showing ownership. A sign by itself tells you nothing, but in a particular neighborhood, in a particular yard, a sign can tell you much more. Another example of this could be litter. A crushed soda can doesn't mean anything, really. A crushed soda can in the street, next to some beer bottles and empty plastic bags can tell you much more. Litter fixes the street firmly in the past tense, like “-ed”. To be clear, it is not just an example of scale, but an example of affixing. These items need to be attached to something larger, something human, in order to have meaning. This is how we identify what part of town we're in if we don't already know. We look at the morphemes around us and draw our conclusions based on not only what they are, but where they are. They are essential to the sentences of the streets.

Content morphemes are somewhat easier to understand. These are the parts of a city that have meaning wherever they are. In this, they are iconic, and these are the stems that functional morphemes are grafted onto. A street, a church, a school, a junkyard. Maybe even people themselves. Often urban planners get caught up in designing the idea of a city around some specific content morpheme, like a monument, or a park. But taken by themselves, such morphemes are cold and useless, hollow structures waiting to be brought to life. Air must be forced in to order to make the city speak, and that's where phonology comes in.

Since phonology is the study of how words are physically formed, in urban linguistics phonology is the lilt to the voice of the town. What comes out of your city when it exhales? What language is it speaking? When all these morphemes come to life and interact, how does it all sound to the outside ear? All cities have the same basic parts and functions, but just as every language has dialects, every city has variations on its themes. Cities export more than just industry, products, and college graduates. They also generate identity, art, and culture. They are incubators for new sounds and new dialects, not just in a linguistic sense but in a deep cultural one. We all know what New Yorkers are supposed to sound like, but more importantly even if we've never been there we know what it feels like to be a New Yorker. That's successful export of identity, that's phonology. When the people are pushed past the morphemes, strange and wonderful things are formed, and then they can be tagged directly back to the city. So what is San Diego's dialect, it's phonics? We breathe in the ocean and the Santa Anas, and breathe out ships, a sense of luxury, and comfortable power. This is how we sound to the rest of the world, today. What will it be tomorrow?

Finally we come to syntax, what many would call the heart of the matter. Syntax means nothing more than rules, and cities are full of them. There is internal syntax, which the city generates by itself – the signs and roads, the directions, traffic flow, zoning laws, and rail lines that lay out in an easily understood format how it will conduct its day to day business. This is the grammar of the city, and it's often called a map. But there is also external syntax, which is imposed – how the shape of the hills structures the speech of the city. We can also call that geography, but it's more than just terrain and elevation. How does the nature in the land interact with the city? And vice versa, how is the city interacting with the land? This is rapidly becoming a field of great interest in service to the idea of sustainable living, and zero-emission building. While we've long had the power to change internal syntax, now urban planners are worried about the externals. (In China right now there is a planned green city being built called Dongtan, which aims to be self-sufficient and non polluting, housing 50,000 people). Syntax is where most urban planners start when they begin to design or improve a city, but care must be used to ensure that man made rules don't conflict with natural ones, or disaster can result – witness New Orleans.

What I've described here shouldn't be thought of as the only way to experience a city – just another way to do it. We use language all the time, both written and spoken, and literally nothing comes more naturally to humanity than speech. We are born pre-wired to understand the sounds around us and somehow, to synthesize something useful from it and adapt it to our own use. We also spend most of our time in cities of one size or another, and it might be good, from time to time, to stop and think about what works, what doesn't, and what we might be able to fix.

The Riff

I'll give you an example from my life, a sort of geo-linguistical biography. I grew up in Shreveport, Louisiana, and left when I was 18 for a variety of reasons...yes, there was a girl involved, but there was also a deep impression in me that my hometown was going nowhere fast, stuck in the past. Past tense, has-been. Morphemes from growing up? Slums, old decrepit buildings from the turn of the century everywhere. Kudzu vines climbing everything, poverty covering everything. Leaning old apartment buildings settling lopsidedly, like low rent Towers of Pisa, sinking into the red clay of the riverbank. The phonology was old and forgetful, like an old man forgetting where his hat is, wheezing oil refinery pollution into the sky while birds and airplanes fly high overhead, never landing in Shreveport. Shreveport, with a syntax of flat flat flat, the river being the main feature that decided the shape of the town. I don't go back, too much, but unless you've lived there, please don't make fun of it.

Sarasota...you probably have a good idea here. It was stasis, present tense. Beaches, hippies, villas, old people, out of state license plates, manatees, and lizards. Really, the place was like a lizard mecca. Brightly painted beach houses trying to convince you they were fun and spontaneous. What did it sound like? The old people fighting entropy as fast as they can and the young people fighting to not turn old. Everyone is swimming against a strong current, maybe not sinking but not really going anywhere either. It sounds like the tide, constant, pointless, and pretty. A nice way to describe a vacation. The ocean kept the syntax regular and predictable, the streets paralleling the beach from end to end.

And finally San Diego. San Diego is all about the future...it doesn't have a past, and it feels too preoccupied with tomorrow to put much thought into today. Everyone here seems to be saving up for something – a house, or a better car, something that will make them happy. The cranes raise everything high into the sky, and the bulldozers clear every scrap of land they can to build something that will be ready tomorrow. Balboa Park, the Gaslamp, Navy ships. It's hard to encapsulate the place into one idea, because it's never stopped long enough to be caught. The people who live here seem to exist in slivers of a city, never seeing the whole thing. Possibly San Diego is waiting for the Next Big Earthquake, which it won't get, or the Next Big Wildfire, which it may. It's waiting on something, that's for sure, and I think it will keep on waiting, and keep on building, until the very end.

Creative NonFiction Final (Installment 2)

2007-01-09T20:10:00.000-08:00

Sarasota, Iconic

There are several ways to talk about a city. I suppose the one we're most familiar with is the Travel Guide, updated every year by faceless writers who strive to remove themselves from the text as completely as possible. Devoid of context and personal encounter, the books read like business listings festooned with little black stars that tell you how good the food will be at this restaurant, or how bad the service was at that hotel. Then there is the quasi-mystical travelogue, like Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. That book is usually shelved in fiction, but it recounts conversations that could have taken place between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan. In it, Marco tells the Emperor about the fantastic cities that he's seen in his travels, cities of memory, cities of desire, cities of endless streets and people. There are sociological studies, maps and charts, and USA Today bar graphs that can tell you what the air quality index was on 05 July, 2004. Sure, when people talk about abstract cities, they talk about landmarks, crime, and climate. But when people talk about what their city is like, they talk about the characters. And since all a map really is is a collection of characters, this is my map of Sarasota, Florida.
First I want to introduce you to the two Joes. Let us consider them the North and South axes. I worked with both of these Joes, and to me they illuminate the whole town better than a pie chart ever could. Joe G. was (is?) a tall , round shouldered man with a gray mustache and a grayer mullet. Mid forties, loud, prone to tucking his shirts in when he didn't have to. Of course he wasn't from Sarasota, practically nobody it seems is. He ran the music department of the large bookstore I worked in. He liked eighties music, football, and really expensive speakers. His living room was a temple to the Gods of Surround-Sound. He talked constantly of leaving, of going someplace bigger and doing something better. Not in the way that angry teenagers talk about ditching whatever shitty town they happen to have grown up in, Joe talked like he was almost there. For him, Sarasota was a permanent vacation, like Aerosmith. The transformative power of classic rock was going to transport him to his better city. If he could just capture the perfect note from the purest speakers, a power chord would make him free. Joe represents the discontented slumber that is Sarasota. Quite a lot of the angry twenty-year-olds living there now are going to become Joe G. in their middle age. He is the broad street that runs through the town, but never quite reaches the city limits.
The other Joe is actually a Jo. She is Jo M., and I also worked with her at the same bookstore. She was in her mid-sixties, short, and pugnacious. I have a Halloween picture of her in a strap-on pig snout that she wore every year for that purpose. It's truly frightening. She, too, is not from Sarasota, although she'd been there since the seventies and thus could claim honorary native status. She was working out her retirement, fat and...I hesitate to say happy, because she was rarely sunny. She'd spent her youth doing water gymnastics from the back of jet skis, and kidnapped the man who became her husband because he was too shy to ask her out. She dressed as most plump older ladies do - in maroon blouses that hung just a little too low and capri pants for hot days. She adored Russell Crowe. You've heard of When I Am Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple? That was Jo. Every Thanksgiving she would throw a bash at her place for those of us who were too far from home to go back and who had no family in town. She would drink and swear, and some of us would excuse ourselves to go outside and throw a football around. She was the contentedness of Sarasota, the soft settled sand and gentle water. Why don't you stay?
Let's fill in some dotted lines and curves, like a Family Circus cartoon. The sunny, transient nature of Sarasota could easily be defined in a girl that once lived with my roommate and me over a summer. Her name was Kacy, and she was just a tourist, down to see her Dad who was an unrepentant old drunk in a trailer near the beach. Kacy was from upstate New York – Binghamton in fact, the same city that David Sedaris is from. She liked Irish music, alcohol, and knew the words to a lot of Billy Joel songs. Almost always happy, she enjoyed the town for what it was, stayed a bit longer than she'd planned, and generally brightened up the place. She described a meandering curve around a sandy coast that doesn't quite ever go anywhere.
Of course, Sarasota also had hippies. There wasn't too much of an actual counter-culture there, but on any given Sunday night the town was able to muster enough people for a drum circle on the beach. The usual makeup of the circle would be art students from the Ringling School of Art & Design (who were living off of their parents' trust funds and looking for something vaguely rebellious to do), bewildered tourists, and a few baked beachcombers trying to dress like Jimmy Buffet. As a whole, they were pretty self conscious as hippies, always making sure not to dress too outlandishly but making damned well certain they didn't look like the well-fed yuppies they were. They kept the town's few vegan restaurants in business, and sometimes they would stage elaborate political protests outside the Barnes & Noble on Sunday night, because nothing else would be open. The hippies were like public parks – you only miss them when they're gone.
The beating alcoholic heart of the town was Howie. Howie ran one of the most exclusive bars I have ever been in, the Cock and Bull pub, which was about as British as Sonny Bono. I have witnessed him kick out a patron for daring to ask for a Budweiser, and he thought Guinness was too common (in his words, “whorish”) to serve. He was a beer snob's beer snob. Short, stout, and Jewish, Howie was my introduction into the world of beer. I suspect a large number of other underage drinkers were likewise spoiled by the concoctions that he acquired. Beer made by Belgian monks, beer from Liechtenstein, beer you had to add fruit syrup to in order to drink. Since he ran the most popular nightspot in town, Howie had complete control over most drinking men in the city. He wore his authority like a crown, dispensing wisdom with the suds and receiving tribute in his metal tip bucket. The bar has since relocated into a renovated barn on the outskirts of town, but people still reference other landmarks from the Cock and Bull. Howie's is the tallest statue in town, even if he is only 5'6”.

A brief segue here to explain something about the town – it's really a beachfront halfway house. Sarasota is filled with people who drift in on the tide of a mid-life crisis...recent divorcees, factory closing layoff victims, English majors unable to find a decent job anywhere else, etc. All of them come planning to stay a few years, save up money, and maybe meet that special someone and escape to more interesting climes. But along the way, something happens. Sarasota oozes idleness from the sidewalks. The months turn into years, the years click by, and soon you're a native by adoption. It's an easy place to live, and it eats ambitions like candy. I would still be there if I had been 20 and able to live with failure. But I was just 20, and I did fail at something, and her name was Emily.
For me, she was the real soul of Sarasota – elegant, educated, and unwilling to leave. She was a talented artist, six feet tall with long dark hair and and intermittent smile, like an electrical short. I was aiming pretty high – she had a college degree and a bevy of would-be suitors whom she all ignored with equal parts innocent disdain and self-deprecating humor. Like Sarasota, she had impossibly high standards and more culture than she knew what to do with. In the city this was manifested by building grandiose condos that tried to resemble Italian villas – in the girl it was represented by locking her door and surrounding herself with the ephemera of grace, like a Jeff Buckley album. I was cooked, and good. I was able to be, I think, her closest friend for two years with what seemed to me a sound strategy of conversation, remembering her birthday, and taking her out to dinner and trying to get her to leave Sarasota. But she never would consent to taking any chances, and even though she dreamed of accomplishment and importance – her car stayed in the garage. And she certainly wasn't about to date a boy, even one who made her really good mix-tapes. Even after I'd given up on trying to seduce her, I still tried mightily to get her to leave her native soil. But she always had ready excuses not to leave her home and her comfort, and eventually I surrendered. By that point, I couldn't experience Sarasota at all without somehow experiencing Emily at the same time. The town and the girl had merged, and, since I couldn't change either one, I left.
If I seem a little ambivalent toward the town and people, I'm not. The fake Italian architecture, expensive cars, and pretentious art school baloney seem in hindsight to be as completely ridiculous as anything Disney ever put in a park. On the other hand, the people you read about here, the people who really defined the town, are outside of that manufactured contentment. They are the reason I stayed as long as I did, and they are the reason I remember it at all. It was an important part of my life, but not one I could ever revisit while staying true to my vision of Sarasota. A temporary escape from reality, a fitful sleep, and a nice place to visit - but I wouldn't want to live there, again.

2006 Continued

2007-01-03T11:38:00.000-08:00

4. The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch

Easily the best fantasy novel I read all year, though to be fair I've stopped reading sci-fi/fantasy for the most part. There was a sample chapter of this at Mysterious Galaxy as a free giveaway, and I picked it up with no real expectation. The first two pages hooked me, and I had to buy it immediately. It's like Oliver Twist, set in a sort of fantasy Venice, with more con-artistry than a presidential election. The sequel should be out in July, but if you're looking for a very entertaining read, pick this up.

3. Believer Magazine

No magazine has better captured everything that's been in my head than this one. In fact, I have sometimes felt that my brain waves were being scanned in order to generate articles, so I have taken to wearing a tin-foil hat in order to foil these thieves. I get asked about it in public sometimes (the magazine, not the hat) because it's not a magazine everyone has heard of, and the covers are so, well, cartoon-design-chic.

I don't know how to quite describe it; usually I mumble something about a West-coast Harpers or Partisan Review crossed with Adbusters and um...yeah. There is fiction, although the main bulk of the issues seems to be creative nonfiction and interviews. The issue you see here, which also graces the top of my commode, has an article about Indian undercover journalism, Jack London and a man who makes a living impersonating him, a woman who wrote an amazing column in the Village Voice that I would like to take over, and literary manifestations of rats in books, among other things. They are the brainchild of McSweeney's, a San Francisco based purveyor of books and pirate gear.

2. Who Dat? Who Dat? The New Orleans Saints!

Nobody saw this one coming. A team that was 3-13 last year with no stadium, no city, and no hopes to a playoff-bound #2 NFC seed that is more than capable of going all the way. I'm not saying they will, because I've seen enough Saints seasons self destruct, but the athletic ability, discipline, playcalling, and sheer firepower of this team have been breathtaking. They are 10-6, and thanks to some great scheduling I've been able to see nearly every single game this season. Seriously, thanks Fox, for putting their games on west coast TV. From the Superdome opener against the Falcons

to the total routing of the Giants, they have played superbly in almost every game. There have been some bad moments, but overall stuff like this

gives me hope for the playoffs, and hope for the franchise. To be fair, the city of New Orleans is not at all back to normal, although you wouldn't know it from watching the games on TV. There's still a lot of work to be done, and there are a lot of people being royally screwed right now, but hopefully the city will catch up to the team.

1.

Well of course! It's Hannah! She is indisputably the best thing that's happened to me, pretty much ever. I was pretty much convinced I would never find someone who I got along with this well, who has everything I look for in a friend and a girlfriend. Well, she does, and I'm pretty happy about it. While it stinks royally that we are going to apart for her birthday, Valentine's Day, and possibly my birthday, we will be ditching this town sometime in 2007, and getting on with our lives.

So here's to 2006 - a damn fine year! May 2007 be good to us all.

2006: Requiem in Pacet

2006-12-30T10:18:00.000-08:00

Everyone else is doing top 10 lists of albums, movies, books, whatever. I honestly don't consume enough entertainment in a year to warrant a top 10 list of any one thing. So, here are my Top 10 of Everything for 2006. Note that 2006 is the year that I saw/read/heard these things, not the year they were made/written/produced/etc.

10. Jane Jacobs Death & Life of Great American Cities - see review below. This book, that I picked up based on a review in The Economist, started me down a path of exploration that I was able to easily mine for my writing class. Urban design and planning has always been of interest to me, but I never thought it would be so easy to understand. Through this book, I've picked up several others on the subject, but none have been as good as this one.

9. Murder by Death - live at the Casbah on 06-06-06. William Eliot Whitmore opening for them was stellar, but when MBD took the stage to a backdrop of black and while silent films on a projector, and launched into Sometimes The Line Walks You with Adam Turla shrieking "Jailbreak!"...yeah. A great show, and a great introduction to a band I hope to see live again one dya soon. Everyone I've introduced MBD to has loved them, and if they ever play your town, you should check them out.

8. Casino Royale - the best Bond movie so far. I know a lot of people though Pierce Brosnan was the ultimate Bond, but the man played the same role in so many other movies that it was becoming utterly predictable. I think Brosnan carried the Connery version of Bond to its peak, true, but Daniel Craig's Bond is completely different. This Bond kills people with his bare hands, actually fails sometimes, and has more emotional depth after 1 movie than any of the other Bonds had in the entire franchise. The only bad thing in this was the crappy Chris Cornell song at the beginning. Maybe Tina Turner can do the next one.

7. Istanbul by Orhan Pamuk- I had never heard of this guy when I read this book, but later this year he won the Nobel Prize for Literature. Not for this book, which is nonfiction, but for some of his novels. He is Turkish, and Istanbul is a beautiful historical exploration of the city he grew up in and still inhabits. Inside are his recollections of growing up in the faded remnants of what was once the center of an enormous empire, now crumbling into the sea. The black and white photos are incredible, snapshots pulled from the 30's, 40's, and 50's and inserted in the text to highlight his history and memories. Simply amazing.

6. Battlestar Galactica - yes, yes, I'm a dork. Still this is the only show I've actually bothered to regularly watch for over a year now. Season 3 is on winter break now, and will return late January. The ground the show manages to cover in one episode, the character development, and the still good special effects and production coupled with some amazingly good acting makes this the only thing worth watching. You don't have to like Star Trek to like this show, there are no pointy faced plastic aliens or spandex bodysuits here. In fact, in many ways the setting is irrelevant as the center of the drama is the people onboard the ship, not planets or spaceships. Here is a clip from the Season 3 opener, which is seriously badass.

5. Radiohead- live x2. Seeing them twice within 10 days was great, but poses a question: which show was better? First I saw them at Bonnaroo in Tennessee, playing at 11PM to a crowd of 80,000 very smelly people, half of whom were high and all of whom were dehydrated. They played for 2 and a half hours, and the crowd energy was like, awesome, dude. They sounded very good, very tight, which is in itself unusual for bands playing live outdoor venues. So that was cool. Then, I saw them again here in San Diego at the Bayside, in a much smaller venue with better sanitation, fewer stoners, and less of a line to go pee. It was comfortable, beautiful on the water against the sunset, and we had a better view. But, there was less energy, less feeling of grandiose Rock. They sounded just as good, and it was an easier concert to appreciate, but...I'm torn. So I'll just put Radiohead Live down as #5, and forgo trying to make a judgment.

Final 4 To Follow!

Creative NonFiction Final (Installment 1)

2006-12-26T14:00:00.000-08:00

The Death & Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs – A Review and Mild Retrospective

Jane Jacobs died last April, but her ideas and writings will almost certainly survive well into the next hundred years at which point we will be living in oxygen injected super-domes and killing our clones with laser guns. This book, written in 1961, is a grand indictment of centralized urban planning, freeways, suburban sprawl, and Utopian “planned communities”.

Mrs. Jacobs had absolutely no qualifications to write such a book, nor her later books on macroeconomics, Western civilization, or anthropology. She never completed a college degree or taught a class. The book is a fascinating collection of anecdote, intuitive reasoning, and personal observation that speak much louder than all the dry sociological urban planning studies ever done.

Glancing at the table of contents, it seems that not much about a city is too small to escape her notice. Part One is called “The Peculiar Nature of Cities” and has 3 sub chapters on the uses of sidewalks, one on parks, and one on neighborhoods. I'll admit to being leery when I looked at this, wondering if I was going to get some sort of architectural draft in crabbed handwriting showing the perfect angles for corners and exactly how wide awnings should be in the Perfect City. Nothing fortunately could be further from the truth, as the very idea of a Perfect City is one that she despises (specifically Le Corbusier's Radiant City). In Jane's ideal city, city blocks are small, diverse, and mixed-use. The heavy hand of the zoning board has been manacled to a subway turnstile and the expressway exists only as a link between cities, not as a loop linking gated suburbs to mega malls and ruined downtown areas. The book is obviously heavily influenced by New York City, where Mrs. Jacobs moved during the Great Depression. There are, however, countless stories of other large American cities, and their successes and failures in urban planning and public housing (Los Angeles offers a wealth of examples of how not to do it).

The book is short on theory and long on practical application. She does not lay out how to intentionally design a better place to live, but she does clearly lay out the basic tools and conditions necessary to facilitate working, healthy cities. Houses should be close to businesses, parks should be designed around their actual users rather than a grandiose vision of “open places”. Having a couple of bars on your block is a good thing rather than a deplorable menace, and small independent businesses are much more desirable than chain stores or strip malls. A lot of this stuff seems fairly obvious to me, but a look around most major American cities will show that it isn't obvious enough to the people who zoned and developed them.

She made a lot of enemies with this book, particularly Robert Moses and Lewis Mumford. Moses she fought with over the leveling of New York neighborhoods to make way for the Cross-Bronx Expressway; Mumford she clashed with because he called her “Mother Jacobs” and her book a “home remedy for urban cancer”. In an era where academics were increasingly sheltered from working class people, where specialization and credentialed enlightenment were the ideals for writers, Jane Jacobs was a grand optimistic generalist who was often accused of not knowing what the hell she was talking about. It's amusing that in a time when we were fighting Communism in the name of Freedom and Individuality, the urban renewal movement was busily imposing a centralized aesthetic on millions of Americans by demolishing their communities to make room for interstates. Sprawl consumed thousands of acres of land, resulting in longer freeways, more traffic, and ridiculous commutes to and from work for people who had been forced to live in suburbs miles away from where they conducted their business. Pedestrians were to be distrusted as homeless vagrants, condemned to live in run down parks and vacant downtown districts. The personal automobile was changing the way people lived, worked, and commuted. There were many grand designs made by people who knew a lot about science, art, and architecture but not so much about people and how they lived. While it's true for instance, that Le Corbusier's Radiant City looks incredible, it does so as an object of art and not as a viable city. In his cities, the poor lived in separate high-rises from the rich, segregated by parks and green space large enough to keep dirty pedestrians out. Everyone lives in skyscrapers linked by bridges for cars, and presumably everyone is happy with this arrangement. Of course, if they aren't, there's not much they can do about it. It was our own 'Great Leap Forward' into a shiny new future in glass and steel where you would never have to talk to anyone who didn't look and dress like you.

Jane Jacobs defies easy categorization as a “small is beautiful” left leaning anti-war hippie, or a “free market solves all problems” conservative economist, because she makes arguments for both sides. Never afraid to speak her mind, she was investigated by the Loyalty Security Board in 1952, and was arrested multiple times for “inciting a riot” as she protested various “urban renewal” projects. She fought the Vietnam War and the draft, ultimately moving her family to Toronto to avoid her sons being drafted. She was a generalist, and a non-ideologue, which makes her writing so valuable and so rare, and keeps her relevant today.

What I Want For Chrismahanukwanzaa

2006-12-25T15:33:00.000-08:00

In Miami. Can it happen?

Spider Sense...Tingling

2006-11-28T21:39:00.001-08:00

I just got solicited to subscribe to my daily newspaper. This by itself isn't remarkable – those persistent salespeople are always calling my phone, or sending me polite, desperate letters showing me how much they've managed to shave off the price of home delivered news...please, won't I subscribe? But not five minutes ago, a goateed man knocked on my door, handed me a bulky package, and said that he was here to give me my free newspaper. Now, my first thought was that this was a poorly dressed missionary with some wacky church tract, and my heart leapt with glee at the thought of having sport with some Fundamentalists. But instead, he tried to get me to subscribe to the local respectable newspaper, which I had to decline because frankly it's not that good. But I still got my bulky package, which I assumed to be today's newspaper.

I was right, but, as a kicker, there was also a Spiderman comic bundled with it. A 1963 edition, poorly written, ridiculously dated issue of Spiderman. I am unsure how to treat this. By handing me the comic with the newspaper, am I to assume that this comic is on par with the newspaper? By giving me the story of a young journalist who fights crime, am I to assume that the producers of my local paper fight crime, and this is some sort of bizarre cry for help? Will Spidey get a date with that gosh darn Mary Jane? Jeepers, she sure is cutes! Perhaps it is a subtle reference to the idea that the media creates its own reality by reporting on it, the way Peter Parker creates Spiderman by taking his own picture.

OK, look, the only people who would find this amusing are comic book nerds, who don't care about news, and eight year olds, likewise. So why this weird mashup? The message seems to be that by subscribing to my paper, I will also be able to follow the madcap adventures of a superhero who has been around since my Dad was a kid. There is a terrible parallel here though...Spiderman is now three major motion pictures, and a slew of video games. By handing me a reprint from 1963, the paper is unwittingly reinforcing the main reason nobody subscribes to papers anymore. They're old! They're out of date! They're poorly written, (like this comic) and rely solely on nostalgia for sales.

Also, the inside flap of the comic has an ad for a coupon clearning house called SmartSource.com which says “The website where super-Mom's can save up to $85 with free printable grocery coupons!”
This is patently ridiculous and offensive. Everyone knows women can't use the internet.

Helsinki Complaints Choir

2006-11-28T19:08:00.001-08:00

From Annie...the Helsinki Complaints Choir. Finnish artists Tellervo Kalleinen and Oliver Kochta-Kalleinen collected the pet peeves and angst-ridden pleas of people in Helsinki and then composed this choral work around the list of complaints.

My personal favorite..."You buy furniture and all you get is a pile of boards." Hey guys, Sweden is right next door...call IKEA and complain.

SF Photos

2006-11-28T16:07:00.000-08:00

Atop the Golden Gate Bridge

Golden Gate Bridge Astern

Black and White

A New Post!

2006-11-28T15:26:00.000-08:00

Yes, really.

It's been an eventful few months since I last updated this thing. While I have registered aaronsheehan.com and hosted it on Hannah's domain, and uploaded Wordpress, I have yet to be able to create the look for it that I want. So - back to Blogger.

I am still in San Diego, still in the Navy, although it's looking highly probable I will be out by July and moving to Tennessee in order to cheaply attend school and cheaply buy a house. I have a wonderful girlfriend who lives close by, which isn't news to most of you, but maybe some.

We took a Thanksgiving trip up to San Francisco over the holiday - neither of us had been, and I was able to score some pretty cheap hotel rooms through Priceline.com - although what they don't tell you is that parking is $34 a day in the hotel garage, and there is no choice. SF is not a motorist's town, but it is outstanding in the public transit department. We rode buses, streetcars, and a light train/subway in addition to walking walking walking. It's a very urban place, probably about as urban as you can get on the West Coast. Chicago has more skyscrapers, and Baltimore has more murders, and Washington DC more gay Congressmen, but SF felt like the New York of the West, which was nice. We took a lot of pictures, most of them involving the terribly photogenic Golden Gate Bridge. I did get my turkey dinner at a little Irish bar called Fiddler's Green which was easily the most family friendly pub I've ever been in, with rugrats running around getting introduced to the world of the happy drunks, who humor children with the glow of the soused.

Unfortunately on the way back home, we were in a car accident on the 5 in LA, but nobody was hurt thankfully. As a result, my car is in the body shop and I'm driving a really crappy rental. Chevy Cobalt...don't buy one. Typical American engineering...but I'm stuck with it for 9 days while my car gets a new bumper, fenders, etc.

Other than that, Hannah and I have been leading a fairly uneventful life here in SD. The weather is finally cooler, and Christmas is in the air, the smell of unwashed shoppers mixing with the carbon monoxide of their cars. We still watch Battlestar Galactica and Dr Who - and I am still a Saints fan fairly happy with the way the season is going. I can smell a playoff appearance for the first time in several years, and it smells better than Christmas.

Should you have time, check out the redesigned and updated Little Man magazine - some good stuff on there. And also take time out to see Casino Royale, the best Bond movie in years - Daniel Craig is fantastic, and bringing Bond back where he needs to be: a killer, not some Inspector Gadget with better hair and laser diamond sonic wristwatch pen- guns.

I will try very hard to keep updating this on a more regular basis, and also posting writing here since I am in another writing class. Cheers -

What's Wrong With This Picture?

2006-09-03T22:09:00.000-07:00

What's Wrong With This Picture? The Commentary

2006-09-03T22:08:00.000-07:00

First, the idea of an FDR action figure just seems so...silly. Will it help kids appreciate Professor X more if they see a historical figure in a wheelchair who can command great powers? Wow, Mom, the New Deal sure is fun! But wait..no! It's Benjamin Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who as we all know discovered the electric wheelchair...wait. What?

Target, you should be ashamed. Obviously, you're unAmerican. We need a Wal-Mart to save us now.

Gnarls Barkley is Actually Seal + Moby

2006-08-09T18:17:00.000-07:00

Like my new look? After having my blog confused for someone else's, I have no other recourse but to put up a new template that's completely unique to me: that is, me and whoever downloaded the HTML from a website.

Hey, Joe Lieberman lost to Ned Lamont. What happened to Joe-mentum? Ah well, it's only Conneticut. And Cynthia McKinney lost her re-election bid in Georgia, which goes to prove that you can't yammer wackjob 9-11 conspiracy theories in Congress, and punch cops on Capitol Hill without feeling the wrath of the Georgia voter. Or maybe she was defeated by racism - that's the story she's going with.

Soon, Hannah will be living in San Diego. Soon, Battlestar Galactica will be back on TV and I can watch it on my illegal free cable. Soon, the NFL will be back on Sundays and I can watch the Saints squander another offseason of trades and practices. Oh, and soon I'll be starting college again for fall semster - I've registered for Writing Creative Nonfiction and Intro to Linguistics.

Soon!

inside the sound, a deafening din

2006-08-05T09:10:00.000-07:00

Hrm, new music. Somehow I've gotten into Regina Spektor, after missing her for a few years. She's a Russian Jewish immigrant who is a classically trained pianist - the vocal range of sounds she produces is very impressive. Her first actual album is called Soviet Kitsch, the new one is Begin to Hope. Here's her site: Regina Spektor I really got into her when I started checking out her videos on YouTube...especially this video here:

As well as this video, which features her mother's public school class and lots of hand clapping.

Interestingly, several reviews I've read of her describe her sound as "anti-folk" which was used as a descriptive term of a wider musical movement. So, like any trained scholar, I looked it up on Wikipedia. Apaprently, there are a handful of bands in New York City who all hang out in the same neighborhood and make music that sounds like some sort of twee-pop and punk fusion. How Regina Spektor fits in here I'm not quite sure, but like all good musical labels, it defines its own elite and defies you to call a pretentious reviewer on their bullshit. So, is there an anti-pop? What would that sound like? Would anti-pop have an anti-Pope? Or just a Cardinal Richelieu plotting the demise of Coldplay?

(ALERT: Coldplay song used in trailer for Oliver Stone 9-11 movie. Gaaaaah.)

While I have Catholics on the mind, let's talk about Bishop Allen. It's not a person, it's a band - a NYC group that makes some very excellent indie-pop. One of their songs is called The Monitor, which, when I heard it, made me immediately think of the Civil War ironclad battleship. Because, you know, I'm a history dork. Seriously, that was the first thing that came to mind. When I hit play, I was amazed to hear that EXACTLY what the song was about. A pop song about a battle on the James River? Wow. I started to check them out, and they've got some really good songs out - and a series of EP's, one for each mont of 2006. Each EP is titled after a month (eg, May, June, etc) and is available for download for $5 off their site. They make one song from each EP free to hear, so if you want to hear some ukelele, some guitar, and hear about a factory burning down, go here for Myspace or here for the actual website.

I have to go into work this weekend, which is not cool, but what the hell. And Andy wants me to mention him on my blog, and thus make it cooler. So here you are. If you ever want to see a stunning rendition of Welcome to the Jungle, and see a credible Axl Rose "snake" go to the Ould Sod on Adams Ave Saturday nights. Andy will be the guy surrounded by drunk Canadian girls and plastered soccer moms.

Dooce'ed

2006-07-22T09:06:00.000-07:00

That's the new verb for getting canned from work for blogging. (See ref. A) And it just happened to Christie Axsmith, who got fired from the CIA for having the gall to blog, on Intelink, that torture was bad. For those who don't know, which is probably everyone, Intelink is the Top Secret network that the DoD has set up for everyone with an accredited computer and clearance to communicate and Google the hell out of each other's Intelligence briefs. Last year, they started allowing blogging, which amuses the crap out of me. I've tried reading some of them, and they are very, very dry. I must have missed this woman's. Here is the text that she got fired (and lost her TS clearance for):

Waterboarding is Torture, and Torture is Wrong

Not to mention ineffective. Econo-Girl has serious doubts as to whether European lives were saved. Econo-Girl's purpose in writing this blog is to start a dialog on the Geneva Convention, since it now applies to the Department of Defense again. Guess it's not quaint anymore, eh?

Over the next few weeks, Econo-Girl would like to post articles about the Geneva Convention, like its origin and major provisions. Legal analysis is not the magic some would have you believe. If the grunts and paper pushers are knowledgeable, the anti-torture infrastructure will be strengthened.

I'm going to have to start reading Intelink more, if there are people with actual souls writing on there, even if for a short time. Thing is, it's not like she went to the press with a story - the only way you can get into Intelink is if you have a clearance. It's not exactly mass media. I found out about this story on Wonkette, but it's also made its way into Boing Boing, and a few press outlets. All of this continues to confirm, I really need a new job. As much fun as it all is, the military-industrial-oedipus complex is not the place for me.

Hmm, what else has been going on?

If you like animation, clever writing, steampunk-esque technology, you should check out The Amazing Screw On Head, coming soon to the Sci-Fi Channel. Here's the pilot episode, free online.

In how-small-the-world is news, one of the staff artists for Daytrotter.com turns out to be from Shreveport and have a most excellent .mp3 blog and amazing art. We've exchanged a couple of emails, so next time I'm back in River City I might actually get to meet the Shreveport indie-music scene, of which I had no clue existed.

And that's about it from me.

Oddest Statement Ever Uttered In A Relationship

2006-07-08T23:20:00.000-07:00

Hannah: I would not leave you for a Hispanic man with Morrissey tickets.

Dixie Chicks Secede

2006-07-08T19:58:00.000-07:00

Deconstructing the Dixie Chicks New Single

I used to hear them all the time on country radio. They were the darlings of Nashville, three attractive women playing traditional instruments with a pop sensibility and lots of “spunk”. But country music lovers only appreciate that as far as a carefully cultivated image goes…going off script in a foreign country to make fun of the President of the United States is not a good idea. As soon as Natalie Maines made her impromptu stage remark to a cheering crowd of Brits, the backlash from country music was swift and effectively ended the Chicks career in Nashville. But now they’re back, on adult contemporary and Top 40 stations with the same sound, but rather different lyrics. The thing is, they are just as carefully packaged and manicured now as they were then despite a faux roots-honesty image that they are cultivating. Just three normal girls who spoke truth to power, and got beaten up by a drunken husband. Instead of calling a domestic abuse hotline and covering the bruises with makeup, they retired from public life and had several babies. Now they are back, with a new platinum selling album and a world tour - and a makeover from the darlings of country music in jeans and boots to Sex In the City looking sophisticates on their way to a Starbucks to meet a suave guy they met online. That guy is Pop. And he’s always got room in his schedule for three chicks.

Adjectives for the new album range from “defiant” to “patriotic”. Dissent being such a patriotic endeavor after all. And yet, I am here to prove to you that this “dissent” is an manufactured as poll results. Let’s look at the lyrics to the new hit single, “Not Ready To Make Nice”.

Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting

So it appears they want to be able to forgive country music, but like an unreconstructed Confederate soldier, they can’t bring themselves to. Forget, hell!

I'm through, with doubt,
There's nothing left for me to figure out,
I've paid a price, and i'll keep paying

Watch that line about being through with doubt. It’s all a rationalization. And ‘there’s nothing left for me to figure out?’ I’m sure their detractors say the same thing every night. ‘I’ve paid a price?’ Yeah, a platinum album in a sexy new demographic market just in time to abandon country music as it begins to sink under it’s own belt-buckled weight.

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should

So here we have the chorus, with it’s rhyming so reminiscent of a 60’s protest song. Or an irate housewife who’s tired of being asked to do the laundry and has decided to hit the road with her girlfriend. Either way, tired tired tired. The Dixie Chicks are the girl that gets dumped, and then decides months later that She dumped Him. That jerk. “I don’t have time”? Actually…you took a few years off from recording and touring. It’s a little late for this song to sound like an honest reaction to being ditched by the radio when you took so long to write it. Playground comebacks work better inside of a minute. Also, you “probably wouldn’t if you could?” Sounds like doubt to me.

I made by bed, and I sleep like a baby,
With no regrets and I don't mind saying,
It's a sad sad story
That a mother will teach her daughter
that she ought to hate a perfect stranger.
And how in the world
Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over

I don’t think you slept like a baby. Four days after you made that remark to London, you said this, “"As a concerned American citizen, I apologize to President Bush because my remark was disrespectful.” Really? I’m glad your convictions are so rock solid. You seem to disagree with the idea of a war in Iraq, because there is no reason for all the violence. Murder is bad, killing is bad. Yet, in your hit song “Goodbye, Earl”, you validate the argument that murder is an acceptable response to domestic abuse. So which is it? You want to kill abusive husbands? Jesus, no wonder country music dumped you like a hot potato. You might have come for him next!

And that’s basically the end of the song. The above verses are repeated again, and there is an instrumental bridge to nowhere. It’s funny, but had you stood by your man, country music, you might have an even stronger relationship. Opinion polls indicate that even the girls who shop at Wal-Mart and drive pick-up trucks don’t approve of President Bush anymore. But you cut and ran. Mister Pop Music is a harsh lover, Dixie Chicks. He will give you cocaine and new dresses, but in the end you’ll be left for a newer, prettier, more provocative act. Right now you’re just a desperate housewife.

Independence Day - on the HMS Surprise in the Embarcadero, San Diego

2006-07-06T18:40:00.000-07:00

This is Hannah with her eyes closed, because she's "Surprised" by the flash. Surprised...get it? Cause we were on the...never mind. This is a jolly able seaman with a weird, superimposed rigging and fireworks. The tall ship you see on the far left is the Star of India, the world's oldest active merchant vessel.

And this is a better shot of the Star of India.

The Better Pictures From Radiohead in San Diego - 06/27

2006-07-06T18:38:00.000-07:00

Which Stage? What Stage? This Tent! That Tent!

2006-06-24T07:02:00.000-07:00

Bonnaroo is done, and my eventful summer is underway. Firstly, if you desire to read the coverage of Bonnaroo that Hannah and I wrote, go to Daytrotter's Hard To Navigate to Bonnaroo section. If you want to see the pictures, go to their Flickr page here. I will be uploading more to my own Flickr shortly.

Overall, it was a fun experience, although I have no plans to go back. It's hard to really experience the music the way I'd like to in such an enviroment...just you and 69ooo of your closest friends, all trying to use the john, buy pizza, and take pictures of Radiohead at the same time. It was unbearably hot, for which I'm supremely grateful that we had press credentials (sorry Natalie!) and could retreat into the air conditioned Journalist Pen. We saw Radiohead, Bonnie Raitt, Cat Power, Beck, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Matisyahu, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, the Streets, and a few more I can't remember. We missed an equal amount of acts though, due to the competetive nature of the scheduling and a general inability to get out of bed before 1000AM. Thank you, Alan and Brandi for putting us up. Camping would have sucked, as everyone else seemed to be determined to have the ultimate indie-rock experience and get sweaty and high together. Not so much for us.

Next up: Hannah will be here for 10 days starting Monday, and if you think I'm going to have time to blog you're out of your mind. We will see Radiohead again on Tuesday night, this time in a much smaller, less dirty venue. She will scout jobs and places to live, and I will endeavor to make San Diego look as appealing as I can, which gets easier every day. Right after she moves down here in August, Alan and Brandi will come down for a week to stay with me and scout out their potential move to San Diego. I may be dogsitting for Nicole soon. I bought an air conditioner. And I start school again in September. Did I mention that I'm in the Navy? And working long hours for the next 6 weeks?

And that's my long term forecast. Stay tuned -

June/moon/croon

2006-06-01T20:26:00.000-07:00

Loon? June is shaping up to be busy and a lot of fun. School is out, A's all around - the resourceful Hannah got us press passes for Bonnaroo courtesy of Daytrotter, so look for Hannah Clemens and Aaron Sheehan in a Rolling Stone near you. Scratch that, Rolling Stone sucks. Um. NME? Paste? The Oxford-American music issue? Eh, just check out Daytrotter for hopefully daily updates on the festival. I will also hit the quarter century mark whilst there, so presumably my car insurance will go down. Finally, Hannah is coming here for a fun filled 10 days, that will include seeing Radiohead live on the bay in downtown San Diego.

I finally can cease my quest to see a good movie. Last night I caught The Proposition, written and scored by Nick Cave, and set in frontier Australia. A very violent, fly-covered, dusty, hot Australia peopled by bad men, lawmen, and drunks with bad teeth. The acting and script were fantastic and a lot of the plot was not explained directly - and was left to the ability of the audience to piece together through context and interpetation. We were shown, not told. I recommend it highly if you're fortunate enough to live in a city that's showing it. To see if you are, you can go here.

I attempted to write a music review of Murder By Death's CD in the form of a song. Great conceptual idea - totally bloody useless. But I like what I wrote, so I share it here with you all, in hopes that someone among my readers has a voice like a gravel mixer and maybe some time in prison. Alan, the time you were in a holding cell at Grady Memorial doesn't count. If you don't know MBD, imagine Johnny Cash's singing this, and you'll understand.

Voila:

Starting Over Again (In Hell)

It’s hard to think of water, drink of water
In this heat
And it’s hard to call to Father, walk to Father
Down this street

One boatman’s not enough, his ferry’s stuffed
With cursed men
We all called the Preacher’s bluff, we were tough,
And scoffed at sin

And there is no sun in Hell
For the heat comes from the ground
Dug a trench and sunk a well
Black burning oil is all we found.

I guess Old Scratch forgot us, once he bought us
For all time
Our jailers never see us, never beat us
For our crimes

We tried to build a town, it fell down
Upon the sands
You can’t build a home, from rags and bones
And sinners’ hands

And there are no stars in Hell
All their light gets swallowed up
A good man will always fail
When there’s whiskey in his cup.

At night we hear the sounds, from the ground
Of voices raised
A bell is ringing, choirs singing
Hymns of praise

God’s forgiveness, that He gives us
After gavel’s fall
If only we had meant, that last repent
Our gallows call.

And there is a moon in Hell
It’s a pale and baleful eye
Pins us down like a nail
To cheat death, all you do, is you die.

Nature Boy

2006-05-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

In July of 1999 a dam in upstate Maine was ordered destroyed by the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission. The hydroelectric Edwards Dam, on the Kennebec River was found guilty of inhibiting salmon in their urgent need to swim upstream to spawn. The benefit of clean, pollution free electrical energy was found to be less important than the inalienable rights of salmon to freely travel. In short, the welfare of the salmon, or, “nature”, was seen to be more important than people. The salmon are not to be fished, or farmed, or otherwise mistreated. Their existence justifies itself.

This weekend, a wasp flew into my apartment. I know how he got here: the metal screen door I have doesn’t match the door frame very closely at the top, and likely the wasp just buzzed in. I saw him when he was running himself into my living room wall over and over again, next to the floor lamp. He was flying around the room the way a little kid gets around a swimming pool - staying near the edges, and pushing off every few feet to get some momentum going. I grabbed a rolled up San Diego tribune classified supplement, and prepared to do battle. I knew from growing up in the deep South, wasp stings hurt like a sum-bitch - no reason to take chances. As I didn’t have any bug spray in the house (because I thought San Diego didn’t have insects. No, really.) I was forced to attack with mere paper. I cautiously approached the intruder. Swat! Wave! Jump! He wouldn’t land on something hard so I could squish him. Instead he flew right for me, then veered off at the last minute and headed into the dining room. I fanned him, blowing him into the kitchen. He made straight for the highest, darkest corner. In my apartment, that’s not very high or dark. I approached again, bludgeon ready. He darted into the kitchen window, which I quickly closed. So now, he was trapped between the screen and the glass, unable to get out. I watched for a bit, to make sure he didn’t have a tiny pair of wasp-sized bolt cutters, or a small and very complicated wasp-shotgun. No, he was just confused. My girlfriend asked me later why I didn’t open the screen and let him fly free - I pointed out that I lived on the second floor, and was she going to rent a ladder? He’s still there, half dead and probably very irritated with me right now.

I walk slowly down the trail towards the dam at Mission Trails Park. I can hear the duo before I see them.
“The difference between sale price and purchase price is my profit or loss…”
“I know!”
The pair of middle-aged men bicycle down the trail, specially designed bicycling clothes stretched across their pudgy bodies, helmets atop their graying heads. I move aside.

It seems like an oxymoron, interacting with nature when living in a city. I know that growing up, I always had the idea that nature was something that you traveled into, like a maze. Sure, there are trees, and vermin, and small furry creatures living in the trees, but that’s not really nature. If you want to see nature, you have to go a Park. Or a Preserve. Not in my back yard. Nature is what we eradicate when we build cities. Nature is the anti-city. Nature is good, and terrible in her vastness, and as unapproachable as a pillar of fire in the desert.

.
Last week, I was walking outside toward the alley behind my apartment complex at night. I was on my cell phone, talking to someone as I took a bag of trash out to the dumpster. I opened the ever-unlocked gate to the alley, and there it was. A large dark, furry shape. Bigger than a cat. Wrong shape for a dog. But it had a really big black and white tail - oh, crap. My redneck pattern recognition skills immediately snapped on, and I froze. It was a skunk, tail in the upright and locked position. An alert neighbor across the alley helpfully called ,”Hey, that’s a skunk!”. I didn’t breathe. It took off across the alley and ran under a parked car. Now, I live in what can charitably be called a concrete jungle. I live pretty close to the edge of a mountain, but when you look down, all you can see is yuppies buying Swedish furniture at IKEA and used cars for sale at Qualcomm. There’s nothing, well, natural about it at all. Yet, there it was. A skunk, living in my alley. How did it get there? What drew it to my gate? More immediately, when I walked to my car, was I going to get sprayed with stink-juice? I don’t know where the skunk finally went off to, but I haven’t seen him again. And that was another brush with nature in my own neighborhood.

REI is having a sale - Great Gear Deals! Up to 30% Off! For the uninformed, poor, or recreationally challenged, REI is Recreational Equipment, Inc. - the nation's largest consumer cooperative with more than 2.8 million members. They do a pretty good business around here, judging by the copious amount of spandex, neoprene, and impact resistant plastic I see adorning hikers, bikers, runners, and rock climbers at Mission Trails Regional Park. The only people I see at the park who aren’t outfitted in designer active-wear and protective equipment are the old people, slowly walking for no reason whatsoever. They haven’t gotten the memo yet: nature can only be experienced properly if you’ve purchased the right gear.

Nature has its own philosophical movement, its own art, its own music, its own writing. The concept of nature as “everything humans aren‘t” is old, traditional, venerated, and completely wrong. San Diego of course has nature - “Dude, you can totally go from the beach to, like, the mountains in 45 minutes”, was one of the first things I heard when I moved here. Sure, but in that 45 minutes, what is there? When you’re barreling up the 8 at 70 miles an hour, you’re passing the pigeons that are nesting in the overhang over my porch. They coo and flutter seemingly 24 hours a day, and leave little presents for me on my doorstep. They’re nature too. You’re passing the skunks in Normal Heights, and the squirrels in Balboa Park who have apparently organized into a cute street gang. But also, you’re passing us. Humanity. We are part of nature too, with out designer imported furniture, our Ugg boots, and our fossil-burning vehicles. We can’t afford to pretend that nature is a separate entity, that we can rope off and visit whenever we feel the need for a spiritual experience. We shouldn’t overlook the fact that nature is everything we use on a daily basis to change our lives. Oil, wood, cloth, metals, rubber…all these things make up the tools we’ve created to adapt to our world, the same way Native Americans used buffalo and more buffalo. (Jerky for dinner AGAIN?). And, we shouldn’t get so enamored with the idea of nature as the Not-Humanity that we forget that we’re animals too. Clever, upright, hairless, and social. The Indians weren’t more in tune with nature because they crapped outdoors - they just didn’t have piped water. They were just as human as us, and it’s time we started acting like it, and maybe learning how to better interact with what’s going on around us instead of treating it as a theme park. We aren’t going to the park kids, we are already there.

Murder! By Death!

2006-05-28T16:25:00.000-07:00

Murder By Death isn't just the title of a farcical 1979 Peter Sellers detective movie - it's also the name of a Bloomington, IN based band who have been compared to Nick Cave, Radiohead, and Johnny Cash. I don't know what it is about the Midwest, and their production of unusually talented musical groups - I'll suppose it's the flat terrain, broad expanses of corn and nothing else. Their latest album is titled In B occa Del Lupo (In The Mouth of the Wolf) - and it's like listening to some American Gothic revival novel set to music, with Satan and the ghost of Johnny Cash dueling for your immortal soul. They'll be here in San Diego in 2 weeks, so I'll have a better report for you all then. Until then, check them out here on their website and here on their Myspace. Their latest album isn't a theme album like their last one, Who Will Survive And What Will Be Left Of Them, which told the story of a small Mexican town under siege from the Devil - but I can tell they love good narrative regardless.

Hmm, what else? The Ditty-Bops have a new CD out, which they are supporting by a bicycle tour, biking cross-country to gigs while their instruments are ferried in a bio-diesel fueled van. How very Willie Nelson of them! Plus, they juggle, use shadow-puppets, and dress in costumes for their shows. Kind of like an acoustic, vaudeville Flaming Lips, minus the giant bubbles. They are sadly not coming to San Diego on tour, but they might be coming to a city near you. So look them up! Two cute girls playing their own instruments and who sound like the Boswell Sisters by way of Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. What's not to like?

Also, for my Creative Writing class, it was necessary for me to attend some sort of open-mic poetry night and write about it. Sad, but true. I procrastinated all the way through the Spring, and finally dragged my skeptical butt to Lestat's across the street ftom my apartment. Herein lies the record of my adventure, which my teacher recommended I publish. So here it is, for you, bceause I'm too lazy to proof-read it for actual publication.

Lestat’s is more than a coffee house for the disaffected and painfully gothic. Lestat’s is more than a venue in constant use for a succession of singer songwriters, poets, stand-up comics, and Jesus freak metal heads. Lestat’s is more than a twenty-four hour hangout for street people and insomniacs. Lestat’s is an experience - a thrilling ride that starts with a cup of coffee and ends only when you get your tongue pierced and style your hair into dreadlocks. I don’t go to Lestat’s, I go to Café Cabaret down the street. It’s a lot less effort, and the coffee is cheaper. However, in the interests of research and this paper, I went into Lestat’s for “Open Mic Night with Isaac” on Monday. The format is simple…signup starts at 6:30 and each performer has ten minutes to wow the audience with their own unique blend of vaudeville and emotionally overwrought creations. I sat near the back, next to a large man in a white beard and flannel shirt. The fun was already in full swing when I arrived. On stage was the Little Dave Band, which was one skinny guy in a t-shirt playing the acoustic guitar. His song was “I Tried My Best For You”, which might get described in a music magazine as a “vulnerable, poetic, finely tuned expression of longing”. Also, it could be described as “I wish I was Jack Johnson and chicks threw panties at me”. Either way. He tried his best for us, and we clapped, so he played a Radiohead cover. This might have been unremarkable, except for two things. One, there were a lot of young girls there, by which I mean 10-14 years old with their grandparents present. Two, the song he covered (Creep) has a chorus that runs like this, “..I wish I was special/ so fucking special/ But I’m a creep/….what the hell am I doing here?” Indeed, Little Dave, indeed. The grandparents looked puzzled, and the girls looked uncomfortable.
We quickly forgot about Little Dave when The Wolf took the stage. The Wolf, who had us howl wolf noises when he grabbed the mic, was wearing a sleeveless Metallica tshirt and spiked knee pads over torn jeans. His hair draped in an oily rope over his forehead like a rat-tail wig on backwards. I believe his intention was to perform music with a black guitar, but since he couldn’t play or sing, I’ll class it as poetry. Loosely speaking…very, very loosely. He spoke to us of his heroin addiction, and described his influences as Early Kurt Cobain. He spoke to us about Seattle, and nicotine. He spoke to us of Jesus Christ as the only answer. Sometimes he would strum the guitar and look thoughtful. I was taking notes in the dark, as this drama played out, and looking back I can clearly see in deeply impressed print “HOLY FUCK THIS SUCKS”. Yep, that’s Wolf. He did another song, or poem, whatever you want to call it. It was also about heroin. He left the stage making wolf noises and pumping his fist in the air.
The next contestant was pretty good…a Chinese stand-up comic named Wally Wong which is the best pseudonym, ever. I’m fairly sure he ran over ten minutes, but he was funny enough nobody cared. He made a lot of ethnic jokes, which is OK, because he was Asian. It’s a rule of stand-up that you can be as racist and deliberately provocative as you want to if you’re a minority. It’s OK, white people, you can laugh. His humor was topical, and reminded me that I was missing President Bush’s 8PM speech about immigration. I think Wally was a lot funnier, albeit intentionally so.
Remember the young girls I mentioned? Well, they weren’t there just because they were regulars, and liked the scene. No, one of them was having a birthday. And to celebrate her birthday, “Rhiannon” was going to treat us all to her own songs. She was a cute 14 year old with a guitar, and the world was her oyster. Much like with trained animals, the bar is set so low for kids that it’s almost impossible to fail. Half the audience was either her friends or family, so it wasn’t a hostile crowd. She started off wailing in the style of the Cranberries, and sang a song, entitled, no kidding, “Who I Am”. From the content of the song, she fit every stereotype that Seventeen Magazine and The Gap For Kids has ever tried to reach. According to her lyrics, Rhiannon is that girl who:
1) Likes to shop
2) Likes to dress up
3) Likes to wear her hair in a ponytail
4) Go to the beach and watch the waves roll in
5) Um, you know, that girl.
She was, in short, exactly what you might expect out of a 13 year old who wrote her own material. Following this amazing bit of insight into her psyche, she treated us to another self-penned composition entitled “Pink Canary”. This one went out to her friends in the audience. This song was much less clear, as I couldn’t tell if she was singing about being a bird, singing about owning a bird, or wishing she had a bird. But, regardless, the pink canary was pluckily determined to do things her own way, to express her individuality through singing and flying around. It was heady stuff. Of course, “Isaac”, the emcee, had to banter with her, and get the audience to raggedly belt out a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ as the goths and overly hip people tried to slink into the darkness to avoid the appearance of mirth.
Poetry. That’s what this was about, right? I came here for the poetry man, (The Wolf notwithstanding). I read about this on San Diego Poetry Slam.com, and that’s why I came out. And now, a bonafide poet took the stage! His name was Alonzo. Alonzo looked a bit like Fez from That 70’s Show with a self deprecating style that was a huge hit. “Hollow Mannequin” was his first effort…it was about, “you know, breaking up with someone, and how they see your faults, and shit like that. You know. Anyway.” Yes, Alonzo, we do know. Hollow Mannequin was 4 minutes and 13 seconds long, and was surprisingly upbeat despite the subject matter. Alonzo. Dude. Smiling mannequins are just creepy. Pick another metaphor. The poem itself was “modern” which means, “doesn’t rhyme”. The next poem was “My Love Is Not Enough”. It was remarkably similar to the first poem by him, in that it dealt with breaking up, loss of love, the dwindling of the light of the sun, and rhyming moon and June. His delivery was low and disinterested, because he wasn’t talking to us. He was talking to his ex-girlfriend, who wasn’t there, and so couldn’t hear him anyway. Poor guy. She probably dumped you for The Wolf - at least he had a guitar.
That was the end for me. As I was getting up to leave, a guy in a Packers sweatshirt was getting up to do stand-up comedy, and he had actual notes laying out on the stool behind him. I decided if I wanted to laugh at a jackass trying to read material off notes, I’d go home and watch the President. I could at least mute him.

Mister Sheehan goes to Washington

2006-05-28T13:49:00.000-07:00

Summer blockbusters: bleah. In the last few weeks I've seen MI:III, The Poseidon Adventure, The DaVinci Code, and X-Men III. None of these were really of my own volition, I got invited to go with friend(s) - and guess what. They all sucked (the movies, not the friends). I would like to write a witty and pithy, scathing, Rotten Tomatoes-esque review of them - but I don't have the energy. Plus, I've lost so many brain cells watching poor acting, spastic action, banal dialogue, and transparent plotlines that I am having trouble even speaking English. Since there is a bill afoot in Congress to make that our national, official language, I could be in deep trouble. I have a proposal for a counter-bill: make speaking English illegal when burning a US flag. Think about it! Protestors will be forced to learn another language, forcing them to go to school and actually accomplish something with the copious spare time they must have. Second, national pride. We've stopped most flag-burning, without trampling on anyone's precious civil liberties. Where in the Consitution does it say that you have the right to burn flags AND speak English? Nowhere, buddy. Nowhere.

I should be a legislator. Speaking of which, how about this idea: let's make any evidence obtained through warrantless wiretapping inadmissable in all cases except terrorism. This is only a stop-gap measure, but it might placate some folks who are worried about the idea that the federal government is heading down the slippery slope of collecting data for the sake of collecting data. Say Johnny Law was data-miningfor Al-Qaeda, and found out evidence that a prominent Senator was accepting bribes. And evading taxes. Yeah. Well, under this law, that evidence would be totally inadmissable. 'Cause obviously, we can't legally keep the President and the NSA from collecting phonecalls, but we can make sure they don't use it against us. What do you say, voters? Are you with me?

Untitled New Story

2006-05-08T17:22:00.000-07:00

The pipes have finally frozen solid. The thin trickle of rust colored water that has faithfully flowed at the turn of a wheel for weeks has halted, mid-course. With the failure of the plumbing, any claim we had to living in a city has vanished in a strangled gurgle. Outside, there is nothing but the cold static of snowfall.

Cities exist in threes: the one we are most familiar with is the city on the Earth, or city as it is. But just as important are the City In the Sky, and the City Underground. The heavenly city sits, atop a vault of clouds suspended in the firmament by thousands of very fine lines, like spider webs. In it, imagines the city on earth, only the rarest of metals are used to work the streets and signposts. The buildings are polished marble, and the entire thing glows with such brightness that none can look upon it. The inhabitants - for what city has no inhabitants? - are, as the structures reflect, the higher manifestations of the Earthly equivalent. Above, there is no jealousy, no pettiness, no avarice or sloth. Inside this city are the highest hopes and dreams of the humans below it, recreating daily what the city could be if only people were perfectable. Ironically, should a person from the City on Earth actually attain a state of grace, or beatification, their heavenly version will vanish, suddenly, like a bubble bursting. This is because the two souls have fused, like sand becoming glass under intense heat. Daily life in the City Above is a regular thing, a constant susurration of prayer flowing over the emerald streets and silver lights with the regularity of a great crystal machine, intricate and measured. And this is what the City on Earth imagines it would become, if only it could.

We thought that walls would make us safe. We thought that walls would make us a city. We told ourselves that to be a city, the fundamental thing was to shut off the wilderness, to reject with stones and mortar the Not-City. Then, having risen the walls high and strong, we set about dividing ourselves with smaller, but equally effective barriers. Decades of having our identities marketed at and pandered to had made us collapse, exhausted, into sub-groups based on criteria such as our favorite brand of soap, or our opinions on semi-colons. As soon as we had exercised our dominion over the Outside, we looked at our hammers, and scaffolding, and set-to with the same will in order to divide ourselves. After all, was this not civilization? We could all be separate, all be equal, and all be safe from each other. Civic planning on how to equitably divide resources, like water, and electricity, and basic services went on for the better part of a decade. As the project progressed, the sky above us grew clearer and thinner, and more stars were visible every night. The great lights that lit broad expanses of plazas and parks dimmed and went out, as the need for greatness decreased. Buildings ceased being built, and became subdivided. A craze in efficient living swept through the design world, and inches became as feet. As the darkness above at night became more transparent, some imagined they saw angels flying high above the city, and this was taken as a sign of favor in our city. For a while, the neighborhoods called to one another, each to each, until the final brick was set in place between them and the city fell silent in the shadow of the walls.

The third city is the City Beneath. In it are dumped all the evictions, the foulness, and the sins of the City on the Earth. It lays miles below the surface, lurking in the drainage of its betters. Its streets are paved with black, viscous liquid, and its buildings decay in the phosphorescent light of fungi. But because it too, is a city, it also has inhabitants. They are stunted and deformed, possessing only the iniquities of the people who dwell far above. If the shining city in the clouds is a golden mirror of humanity, then this city is a warning in a fairy tale, the fly in the ointment. Life goes on in a vicious cycle of betrayal and crime - in every alley there is a freshly murdered corpse, in every home an adulterer with his spiteful mistress. Should a person from the City As It Is become damned or forsaken, his counterpart here will actually double in size, becoming a grotesque abomination with likewise increased appetite and desire. People above imagine that this city does not exist ,and that even if it did, they would certainly have no malevolent twin. While the City On Earth hopes for heavenly glory, at night its tortured dreams are of revenge and lust.

As our experiment drew to a close, it became inevitable that the luxuries and standards we’d had before would cease. First, the wireless sets failed as the neighborhoods turned ever inward on themselves. One could talk, but who would listen? Even the idea of circumventing the walls with radio waves seemed heretical - we were a nation of cultists, proclaiming our ideals as we slowly burned at stakes of our making. Then, in June, the power went out. Generators failed as the supplies of coal and oil dried up, and machinery ground to a halt. Lines began to fall, and transformers went up in sparks. Halloween came and went, barely noticed. What would we dress up as? We’d seen each other’s masks a thousand times already. The city grew darker and darker, and it seemed that we grew thinner and more translucent. Spoken words were heard less and less, and we learned to communicate with a gesture, a delicately raised eyebrow. Water continued to flow, barely, and enough food had been set aside in each area to see us through the coming winter. Some began to question the wisdom of the walls, but it was too late. The snow began to fall, and the roofs were laced with ice. Nothing on the television, silence from the radio. Only the crack of falling limbs and the murmur of the wind.

All three cities must exist, because we can conceive of them. In an infinite world, all things thought of must be true. But which city is more real than the other? None of them, I would say, none of them. If I am telling you of a place, it is because I have been there and seen it with these eyes. Each needs the other to tell it how to be, how to think. If beauty is that which is not ugly, and sin is that which is not virtue, then all three cities are still there, filling each other’s voids and mirroring each other’s souls. It is like an arch in a cathedral. A pure, geometric curve supports the weight of stones and institutions - all of man’s hopes and fears carved into gargoyles and saints, heavy and unreal. Yet, there is no one stone that is more real than the other, in this arch. There is no one stone that holds it all up, that makes the arch support the weight of ages. It is the idea of the line, the relationship between the stones and the concept of an arch, that works. The idea is the reality - the form made function. If there is a lesson to be learned, here, from this city made of walls, it is that one. Learn it, or follow us into the dark.

Superstition ain't the way

2006-05-06T19:48:00.000-07:00

Sing it Stevie...oh yeah.

So, yes, I've been absent a while. No reason, other than general apathy, but there are some significant world events that require my comments and keen observational attention. First:

1) George Lucas has un-fucked himself long enough to do this. And there was much rejoicing. Now I can finally burn my crappy, poorly sounding overly CGI'ed versions. Han shot first!

2) Radiohead is coming to San Diego! And I'm going! Got tickets this morning via Ticketbastard, who through the power of soulless chicanery changed $37 tickets into $52 tickets. Convenience fee? What? Who even thought that up?

3) Scott McClellan was canned as WH Press Spokesman, and replaced by Fox News talking head Tony Snow. The next day, the Whtie House declared May 1 "Loyalty Day" - so those brown skinned people in the streets carrying flags aren't protesting immigration laws, no no no. They're celebrating Loyalty Day!

4) Steven Colbert bombed at the WH Press Correspondants Dinner. I watched clips of this - he really wasn't all that funny. The funny part was the reaction in the blogosphere where frothing journalists defended Mr Colbert and his "feisty", "pointed", and "deadly" barbs. Sorry guys, the Colbert Repor(t) is funny - this wasn't. Stand up comedy is not his forte, and the pedantic jokes and fairly stupid video of him running from Helen Thomas...yeah. What's next? This is about as funny as the video the military is circulating of Al-Zarqawi fumbling with a machine gun.

5) Zacarias Moussaoui got life in prison instead of the death penalty. Conservatives are super angry, liberals are super happy. I think this was the right decision, Moussaoui's grandstanding aside. If he was sentenced to death, the endless appeals and added publicity it would give him would just give this jackass additional opportunity to make ridiculous comments into a camera. As it is, nobody's going to remember him in a year. Also, I don't think he was really guilty of everything he claimed to be guilty of. Denied matryrdom is a worse punishment than, well, marytrdom.

6) The best hamburger in San Diego is at Hodad's in Ocean Beach...succulent veggies....fresh fries...mmm. And so huge! Go there now, but be prepared to wait for a table.

7) And, I'm out.

2006-04-22T18:08:00.000-07:00

Nope, no snakes on my plane. I am back in San Diego, and have been for a busy, busy week. Highlights include arguing with officers, winning $60 playing Texas Hold 'Em, and learning in Logic class how to build atomic bombs. And there's a guy from Tehran sitting behind me in class, no joke. I didn't see him taking many notes though.

I just got back from the Adams Avenue Roots and Folk Music Festival - since it's going on a few hundred feet away from my apartment and it's free, I felt I should attend. Within seconds of walking into the roped off area, I was accosted by a monk in a baseball cap who liked my tshirt and who tried to give me a copy of the Bhavagad-Gita...when I told him I already had one, he gave me a different book on Hinduism, and I gave him $2. I saw bluegrass in the park, mandolin Italian chamber music in the street, met a street magician/busker named Jimmy from New Orleans who was really pretty good. He had just gotten back from Europe ("now recently from the Sultan's Palace, the Courts of Kings & Queens and now performing for you ladies and gentlemen on this street corner. Stay in school kids, really") There was cowboy and Celtic music in a church, and Chinese people doing while-you-wait calligraphy. Why, there were even rides for the kids - one of which is the picture you see. Overall, I had a good free time.

The Coachella movie is out on DVD now - Radiohead, the Pixies, the Flaming Lips, Morrissey, Aracde Fire, Belle and Sebastian, and quite a few more. Beck talks about music, and there are giant robots belching flames and beating each other. Recommended! Now they're only 4 DVDs behind Bonnaroo...

Me and the skirts always end up the same

2006-04-15T16:33:00.000-07:00

The Shreveport Times made an appearance on my favorite political scandal-rag site, Wonkette. Here's the link to the story - Wonkette's tag ? "It’s not her fault, there’s really no predicting what you’ll say after you get hit with a tazer. ZAP! “I’m Rick James bitch!”

It's been a week off from blogging, and I'm trying to play catchup in the plushest airport lounge I've ever been in at DFW. I'm in a leather swivel chair at a faux-marble counter, with my laptop plugged in and wirelesly connected. A flat screen TV is injecting me with CNN, without asking first. I'm watching escaltors go up and down, empty,. Lots of leather, brushed steel, and stained wood. I'm waiting for Christopher Walken to come dancing out of an elevator.

I finally got around to buying music legally from iTunes. That's right, Aaron, music pirate since 1998, finally paid for someone's intellectual property. And what did I buy? Why, these guys new album! I've had one of their EPs knocking around my harddrive since '02, and now I'm finally giving them money. Hey, if I go to school in Tennesee, maybe I'll get to see them live! Oh yes, and one of their videos has them dressed in pirate costumes...so you know the Features are cool.

I need to buy a scanner and digitize several years worth of terribly old fashioned sticky photos. Any suggestions from you artistic tech-heads out there?

Oh yeah, and if you can get it, I recommend the new issue of Believer magazine. Mainly for this
article, but hell, read the whole thing if you want it in Dead Tree format. Oh, and I found out Terry Pratchett is a libertarian. According to a libertarian website anyway, which has a list of Libertarian celebrities. I can't help but wonder if this is like Mormons reverse-baptising dead relatives...you know..."well, they never said they weren't, so we'll give them the hat and plaque". I'm not sure how I feel about this...generally if an entertainer or artist gets linked to a political movement/philosophy, I'm much less likely to read them. I dislike getting beat over the head with a Point or a Cause. What they said about Pratchett isn't inaccurate, as such. It's just, selective. After all, one of his recurring heroes is a policeman who ends up in the Nobility. Not very Robespierre.

I think they're playing my song...pre-boarding United Airlines flight to San Fran. Man, I sure hope there aren't any snakes on my plane.

Nah, couldn't happen.

Good Old Judas, So Long Judas

2006-04-07T23:04:00.000-07:00

National Geographic magazine has unveiled a 26 page parchment document - The Gospel of Judas. In it, a conversation between Jesus and Judas is reproduced - and it appears that according to this Gospel, Jesus asked Judas to betray him. Christ tells Judas, "…you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me."

In another section, Jesus tells Judas, “Step away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the kingdom. Look, you have been told everything. Lift up your eyes and look at the cloud and the light within it and the stars surrounding it. The star that leads the way is your star.”

Hmm. Now, these documents apparently date from 300 BCE/AD, giving a lot of Biblical scholars the opportunity to poo-poo their authenicity. After all, Judas killed himself shortly after the betrayal, right? Bible Society chief executive James Catford said,“It really would be a miracle if Judas was the author of this document, because he died at least 100 years before it was written." Well, no. It means this copy was printed then, that doesn't mean the original text is that recent. After all, the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) are generally accepted to have been written long after the events they describe. What difference does it make? And really, doctrinally, what difference does this make to Christianity? I mean, I have always held the strong suspicion that if the events in the New Testament really fell out the way they're described, Jesus obviously knew who was betraying him. He calls out Judas at the Last Supper...the only clueless people at that table are the other Disciples who are pretty deep into their kosher wine at that point. So, Jesus knew who was going to turn him in to the Romans, and he didn't stop Judas from doing it. So isn't that called 'suicide by cop' nowadays? Also, wasn't it necessary for Christ to die in order for him to cleanse mankind of its sins? So, isn't Judas an integral part of that? I dunno. I can't quite believe this is a surprise to anyone. Maybe I just watched Jesus Christ Superstar too many times.

In other news, I almost got sprayed by a wild skunk in the alley behind my apartment. I think I'm going to move to Tennesee when I'm out of the Navy, not only because it's cheap and I have friends there, but because they had tornadoes today, and I miss those. I got 2 mix CD's from Hannah - and found another good band that you've never heard of called General Sherman. It
s an unfortunate name if you're from Atlanta, but their songs as near as I can tell aren't about burning the Shenandoah Valley and torching Tara. Monday I'm flying into DFW and driving into Shreveport for the week, so if you are somewhere in the I-20 corridor between Dallas and Shreveport, and want to hang out, let me know.

Oh yeah, and Annie is going to to Savannah College of Art and Design! So go here and tell her congratualtions for going to a really cool school in a very nice town. Let the Exodus from San Diego begin!

Kodachrome, give us the night's bright colors...

2006-04-01T21:30:00.000-08:00

Just a note, that neat Flickr badge you see below my links is my latest validation at a blogger. I mean, Pretty much everyone has one of these now, so I figured what the heck. There are only 10 photos there, because I hit my max upload limit pretty quickly. Check back for more. I will try to limit the number of pictures of me in a moustache...which leaves out basically 2004 and the first half of '05.

I wish I knew what the heck I was doing with a camera. I've had more training with firearms, which doesn't get exercised nearly as often.

Good Night, and Good Luck

2006-03-31T20:57:00.000-08:00

I just watched Good Night and Good Luck - about 45 seconds ago the credits started rolling on my screen, and I turned to the word processor to start writing about it. Not really about the movie itself - there’s nothing to criticize or discuss about the acting, directing, cinematography, or special effects. But there is a good bit to say about the message of the movie, the historical lessons contained inside, and the relevance to me, as a man, a citizen, and possibly as a journalist in some future.

It seems that when we turn back to the 40’s and 50’s for political and moral lessons, it seems so very black and white. As if people lived their lives in monochrome, easily understood with few ambiguities. That’s the way it’s presented…”life was simpler then”, “we knew who our enemies were”, and my favorite, “we didn’t have all these terrible things that we do today.” Well, frankly, that’s horseshit. And it would be very easy to decry the McCarthy’s, the red-scare mongers, and all the frightened people who let themselves be led into doing un American things for the sake of America. The problem is when we keep those people whom we despise in our heads as history lessons and constructs of their times, and pat ourselves on the back with the knowledge that we are far too sophisticated to ever fall for the same tactics. Advertising was so clumsy, people were so un-sophisticated. Our modern minds would never be swayed by such elementary psychology. People are much the same now as they were fifty years ago, a hundred years ago, two thousand years ago. We shouldn’t persuade ourselves that it’s no longer our duty to care, to be informed, or to act in the pursuit of truth. All the great questions have not been answered, and the race is not over yet.

But there is another responsibility there. And that is not to apply the conflicts of the past with their seemingly clearly labeled sides. Nobody I know can seriously defend McCarthyism as a coherent or desirable policy. Nobody I know is in favor of Congress dragging entertainers, writers, journalists, and activists before closed door hearings to determine their patriotism, and their suitability to retain their jobs. But do you know who I do know? I do know Americans who seriously defend warrantless wiretappings of American citizens. I do know Americans who feel that the Patriot Act doesn’t do enough to contain the insidious spread of terrorism. I do know Americans who say, “Let them come investigate me. I don’t have anything to hide”. People are again believing that the conflicts today are not ones of ideas, of ideologies, and of wills. And unfortunately, people seem willing to believe that we will know Evil when we see it, because the choices will be in clear black and white, like the television told them. “How can anyone think like that?” is an often asked question about extremists. That’s a good question. A really good question. Maybe we should come up with an answer, and a counter argument instead of banning nail clippers from airplanes and putting cameras on the streets.

It’s easy now to watch a movie like Good Night and Good Luck, and wish that I lived in a time like that, with great men who stood for something right against wrongs. It’s easy to read a book about the Revolution, or the Civil Rights Movement, or World War Two, and wish that I lived with such easy choices. It’s a dream. Those men didn’t find their choices any easier than we find ours today, and we should quit kidding ourselves that they did. There is plenty to fight for, to stand up against, to define ourselves with now. Right now. Take these stories of freedom, stories of the little man, stories of individual courage, and use them as examples for tomorrow. Not just as bedtime stories before the television clicks back on and we fall asleep again.

So, can you tell I just watched a really good movie?

So There I Was

2006-03-29T17:43:00.000-08:00

All right, this will be a long, long post. Here's the deal - I wrote, with some advice and creative assistance from Josh and Alan, a 6 page short story for my Creative Writing Class. On the blog page I'll reproduce the part I wrote in 5 minutes as a Sudden Fiction assignment in class...the rest of the text will be in the comments if you're so insanely bored you actually want to read it. It's actually somewhat based on this story. Oh yes, and the sublime prose of Raymond Chandler, although Alan thought it read more like Murakami in places.

Liu Qingdao in
A Good Man Is Hard To Find

I watched the gin bottle roll across my dashboard - half empty like my heart and half full like my wallet. This was supposed to be a stakeout, but was rapidly becoming a hangover. I stopped the bottle in mid-roll and took another swig. God, that’s rough. I felt my liver contract as the gin slid down my throat. They’d asked for my badge back after that fiasco with the mayor’s daughter, but I’d forged a new one and turned that one in instead. Funny, they hadn’t bothered to ask for my gun back.
My train of thought was broken by brief flicker of light in an upstairs window. Only a quick glimpse, like the one offered by a wheezing Zippo, but that was the signal. One if by front door, two if by window. The front door it was.
It was nice not to have to worry about getting writs, or search warrants. Now, a sharp kick and a lock pick got me where I needed to go. I felt the lock crunch as the door fell in, and I dropped down and peered inside. The foyer was large and white, lit gently by a Tiffany lamp hanging from the ceiling. To my right was a painting of Jesus, looking accusingly at me. To my left a steep flight of stairs with a nice patterned runner. The gin briefly bubbled into my throat as I hurdled steps three at a time and came up to the top landing. A door was ajar, and a cold ocean breeze blew in through an open window. My partner was standing in the doorway, and turned to glance at me. That’s when the knife took him in the side of the face. His ugly face registered astonishment, and added tax for pain. He toppled backwards slowly, and I could see he’d been shot in the abdomen twice. “You were…a good lay”, he breathed as he expired. I heard glass breaking, and a crash from outside. I ran past my dead partner and looked out of what was left of the window. I saw a dark-haired blur in a red shirt running fast across the street, and I heard dogs barking and the steady wail of police sirens echoing through the narrow alleys. This was supposed to be a stakeout, but now it was turning into a frame.

My Inner Geek exploded when it saw this

2006-03-26T09:41:00.000-08:00

Yuk, this mask tastes like plastic

2006-03-24T22:24:00.000-08:00

Sooo...finally saw V is for Vendetta tonight. I can't say I was particularly looking forward to watching a good graphic novel turned into a Frankenstein's monster on the screen, but I went anyway because it was Friday night, and friends wanted to go. So, just a few notes...and there are spoilers here, so beware.

First off, I'm not going to mention the numerous departures from the text. I'm not such a geek or purist that deviations from the "book" send me into a crumb-spraying tirade, but I will say that some of the additions did nothing to advance the plot or characters and seemed gratuitously added and only served to muddle a muddy film.

Secondly: maybe an explanation of why the main character, V, is doing what he's doing? He appears to be acting, at times, out of high minded political sentiment or sheer revenge. If he has political ideals, I sure couldn't figure them out from this movie. he could easily be an anarchist, a socialist, a libertarian, a communist, anything but a conservative. Because the movie makes abundantly clear, that's Evil. He says that "blowing up a building can change the world." Yes, if you're one of the bastards in the building, your world does change: it gets a good bit smaller.

Third: The villains. Chancellor Sutler inspires nothing but amusement here. Instead of the zealot who actually believes he's doing what's right for his country and people, we get a cut-rate Hitler. Yay. he's scary. The overacting, the lack of intelligent dialogue, the Myspace profile (oh yes), all consipre to make the chief villain laughable. A figure of pity - but fortunately, as one dimensional as the Wachowskis think moviegoers need. God forbid we should have complex characters.

Fourth: The End. At the very end of the movie, V has killed everyone important in power who was unlucky enough to have a speaking part in the movie. The soldiers facing down the mob of angry, yet strangely peaceable Londoners have stood down and are allowing the forces of freedom and democracy to vent their anger. The good guys have won. And what do we do? We blow more buildings up. Violence IS the answer all along. Why, the evil nasty government needed to go because it used violence against it's own citizens. But, I guess if you wear a mask and use the letter "V" a lot in conversation, it's OK to use violence against your own citizens. So really, the Parliament destruction scene was pointless as V had already won, but what the hell. It's a movie and a subtle trick like implying that it was possible to effect political change via nonviolent methods is not only possible but PREFERABLE....nah. Let's blow shit up. Wa hoo!

Fifth: Who wrote this dialogue? Seriously? Oh wait, the same guys who wrote all the Matrix movies. That explains it - the fake use of philosophical terms to make a movie sound "smart" to an audience that, like a dog, isn't listening to the words so much as the tone of voice. Ah, he's on about freedom again. I'll settle down and wait until he knifes someone, secure in the knowledge that he's a Good Guy. Right?

I spent $10, and I want at least $6 of it back.

2006-03-21T06:51:00.000-08:00

So now, my oldest friend (in the sense of, we've been friends for 13 years) is all married off. His younger brother gets married this May. They both have good taste in women, and I predict much succcess for all of them. Unfortunately, I stained my nice new suit decorating the bride's car with pink paint, so hopefully the dry-cleaners can salvage the jacket. It's not a proper wedding unless you jack with the car in some obscene way, right?

Weddings are a lot of work - been a long while since I've been to one, and getting to see this one so up close, I'm exhausted just watching. Men need to just stay out of the way, and pop out to do the heavy lifting and driving.

Georgia is a beautiful state - it was nice to hear the accents, and the tree frogs at night. I could live there pretty easily, especially since there are so many Waffle Houses to eat at. I'll have my hasbrowns scattered, smothered, covered please-

We're rednecks, we're rednecks, we don't know our ass from a hole in the ground...

2006-03-12T17:52:00.000-08:00

Have you heard Randy Newman's Good Old Boys? You should...but I wouldn't play it loud in public. Not a politically correct album, but oh so brilliant, and I think he really nails the Old South. Songs about Birmingham, Lester Maddox, Huey Long, and a very sad song about a levee break in 1927 down in Plaquemine.

So I did something that I'm not very proud of today. If you're reading this, you probably already know...but I joined Myspace. I know, I know, I swore I never would...but going out last night with friends, I realised how much of an integral part of 20-something life it has become. Where before Myspace was the province of giggly 14 year old girls with webcams who say things like zzzLOLzzz and OMG! a lot...now the adults are crashing it (and still saying things like zzzLOLzzz and OMG! but that's beside the point). So check it out here, and if you're so inclined, add me as a friend or whatever.

I am now the proud owner of a new suit, something I haven't had in many years. All these friends getting hitched this spring, got to have something to wear while I hit up the buffet at the reception. I spent $40 on a necktie, which seems ridiculous to me, but I don't have the time to hit up thrift stores looking for the one nice tie amidst all the 70's hideous ties. $40! I bought Season 1 of Battlestar Galactica for less money, and I'm damn sure going to use it more than that tie.

So next weekend I'm in Georgia, where I might get to see Brandi Carlile live...the real attraction will be partying with Mormons of course. Wild bunch, Latter Day Saints. Smiting the infidel with cunning arguments and explanatory pamphlets.

This blog will not disappear with the onset of Myspace by the way...this is a much better forum for me. Myspace is strictly for networking, and of course, meeting Hot Chicks. That's going to happen right? I checked that box in the application...

Oh yeah, speaking of Battlestar Galactica, the season finale was Friday night...holy batshit, Fatman. Never have I seen a show change dynamics so much in one episode. I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but if you have seen it and want to obsess over plot points, characters, and storytelling, e-mail me and I will unleash the fanboy within.

And now: dinner.

There was a time when you let me know, what's really going on below

2006-03-05T14:09:00.000-08:00

So there's a collectors edition of Jeff Buckley's Grace that comes with an extra CD of unreleased tracks, and a DVD full of videos, and a 'Making Of' featurette. And I own this now for only $20. Go, me. I have a lot of his music in bits and pieces on my computer, all illegally downloaded. But now I have something even better.

I got an e-mail from my friend Jonathan the other day...chanes are if you're reading this blog I may well have forwarded you the article. Essentially it was this story with the question, how does a moral person react to this? What's a correct position or opinion on groups that act extra-legally to seek redress of wrongs? I don't know. Still thinking.

Plans for the week: Watch Mirrormask, write more bad poetry for class, go see Into The Woods, attend a poetry reading (likewise for class) and make plans for getting the heck out of California. Plan now...I submit a request to match my end of service with my rotation date, which would get me out of the Navy in July 07...and then request a 6 months early separation to get me out by Feb 07. It's been a fun ride, and I'm glad I did it...but there's more to life than this. Right? Right?

I'll be 25 in a few months. Hmm.

All I know is I would throw them all away

2006-03-01T21:41:00.000-08:00

I seem to havbe gotten out of the habit of doing biographical/ daily happenings sort of blog entries. Which is good, because those are insanely tedious to read and not even much fun to write. But here is a recap anyway, because some people use this blog as a window into a life more interesting than their own. I'm so very, very sorry for you.

College is going well, although I should be writing some bad poetry to share with 4 classmates. Philosophy is pretty easy...he's been teaching at a snail's pace, but he really has to since several class members are having trouble with very basic logic. Then again, a lot of people show up to class with bleached blond hair, torn jeans, caps, and ironic t-shirts. They say "dude" and "bra" and text on their cellphones with fellow delinquents during class. So really, it's no surprise they're having trouble with Artistotle's Square of Opposition.

I have hooked another unwitting soul into the abyss that is Battlestar Galactica. Hi Rebecca! I know you read this, even if you don't ever comment. I'm hoping that she buys Season 1 on DVD, since I've only seen the season finale for season 1. Then I can watch her DVD's. It's a good plan. I think the word is "enabler".

Debate over the Dubai port deal has become a kerfluffle between those who think we should steam all ahead full with the deal, and those who think we should wait 45 days. There are three cycles to a load of newsprint kids: story, spin, and rinse. Right now this topic is being gently air dryed in the breeze of public indifference...because Anna Nicole Smith is at the Supreme Court! What a beautiful pair of torts she has.

New musical artist: Brandi Carlile I really, really like her sound...sort of a female Jeff Buckley. She's a sound purist, meaning she doesn't believe in mixing or engineering her recordings...she records the way she plays. She's opening for Jamie Cullum in Atlanta on March 18, and I'll be there...might go see her. My friend Lee is getting married that morning, and I've already bought plane tickets to attend. His younger brother is getting married in May, I have a friend here getting hitched in April, and one in June. Maybe I'll get to be an uncle faster than I thought! Go Mormons, go!

And work. yes. It's very, very busy.

That's all.

Lego My Freedom of Speech!

2006-02-25T09:26:00.000-08:00

Dateline: Billund, Denmark

It seems that all of Denmark is in an uproar over the controversial Mohammed cartoons that recently appeared in a Danish newspaper. Boycotts of Danish products in the Middle East and Indonesia have hurt sales of cheese, chocolate, pastries, anything that’s identifiable as traditionally Danish. Even the most innocuous of toys, Legos, are under a fatwa. Here in the United States, Lego has moved with the times, securing merchandising licenses from popular movie franchises such as Star Wars and Harry Potter. Visitors to www.lego.com can log in and custom build playsets, upload them to the company store’s website, and have them assembled and shipped. Now, in what’s surely the most audacious move for the toymaker, Lego has decided to reach out to the people who are currently burning the Danish flag and storming the embassies. Lego announced plans to immediately unveil a separate line of Legos aimed squarely at the Islamic market. The new line will feature playsets where children can build famous sites such as the Kaaba, the black stone in Medina that is the site of the annual pilgrimage for faithful Muslims the world over. Also included in the lineup is a playset featuring the Dome of the Rock, and the Mosque of the Prophet which contains the remains of Mohammed. The playsets will not feature the iconic Lego people, with yellow cylindrical heads and square bodies, as Lego’s Islamic consultants advised that their inclusion could violate a ban on idolatry, especially within the context of Islamic holy sites. “We hope this will help the situation in the Middle Eastern countries where Denmark is considered a bad word,” said Lego CEO, Kjeld Kirk Kristiansen. “We want to show that Lego is an agile, up to date company. Plus,” he added, “the Kabaa set was really easy to make. It’s basically one giant black brick”.

No Muslim leaders could be reached for comment.

Of all the Thompson gunners, Roland was the best

2006-02-24T11:57:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's been a while since I posted. Yes, I've been busier than a one legged man in ass kicking contest (like that Dad?).

Philosophy class is picking up, although class is still mostly listening to the teacher rant and make fun of his students. And make racist anti-islamic comments. Given how diverse the campus is, I'm amazed someone hasn't gotten offended and complained, but tenure is a damn good bulletproof vest. Creative writing is also going well...the teacher had not much to say about that Shreveport epic-poem other than she liked it. I've signed up for a fiction workshop, for which I have to distribute a short fiction story to the entire class.

Dubai ports. US ports. Hmmm. This is all over the news right now, and it's ridiculous. Why is this an issue? hate to break it to everyone out there who still believes in Fortress America, but 95% of all the cargo vessels that come into our ports are foreign flagged, foreign owned, and have been loaded by dark people in strange countries who don't speak English. Foreign companies already run almost all of our ports, but that's OK, because British P&O is well, British. So that's OK. No radicals in Britain, right? The police shot them all.

All I'm saying is that I've actually been to Dubai, and the UAE is Western, very capitalistic, and the DOD allows 5000 sailors at a time to go ashore there and take tours, stay overnight in hotels, and walk freely. They are a part of our colaition in the Persian Gulf, and yes, it's an Arab state. So? I'm failing to see how this is going to make port security any more dangerous...DHS and the Coast Guard control security, not the port operators. What's worse is how this is making us look...we can export democracy and western society to those funny hot places where people wear robes and sandals, but by God, those creeps better not try bringing it over here. Johnny Foreigner, git out. The Democrats opposing it are scoring easy points by appearing to the right of President Bush on national defense, and the Republicans are pandering to what's left of the Pat Buchanan base who would slap tarriffs on every import and put a fence around the country. This is silly, people. Dubai Port Authority manages port facilities around the world, and obviously are good at it. Let's quit confirming other countries' opinions of Americans and actually practice some of what we preach.

End Rant.

More to follow, hopefully sooner.

Prove to me that you're no fool, walk across my swimming pool

2006-02-18T20:24:00.000-08:00

Perhaps as the previous post states, I would not fit in to Galactica at all. But damn, I love watching it. The new issue just threw 3 big curveballs in 44 minutes and resolved one of them. I hope some of you out there are watching this, because it's the best thing on TV right now. I make that statment with little to no knowledge of what's on other networks, but I feel safe saying it anyway. 'Cause Aaron Sorkin and Joss Whedon don't have anything on. So there.

I rented and watched The Constant Gardener last night. A good movie, deserving of praise, although it was a bit on the two-dimensional side in terms of how it presents The Good Guys vs The Bad Guys. The two main characters were fully realised in the script, and the acting was good (although I felt Rachel Weisz was on autopilot for a lot of it). Unfortunately, the supporting cast wasn't quite as well done, and I halfway expected the chief villian, a maniacal pharmaceutical CEO to cackle and stroke a small cat as he contemplated how Evil he was. But a good movie, worth a rent. I choked up, once or twice. I'm a man and can admit this. Because I don't think anyone's reading it anymore.

I am going to bed early, because I was up until 3:30am last night. And woke up at 8am this morning. My body hates me.

Shiny!

2006-02-17T12:31:00.000-08:00

Coming on December 1, 2005:

Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? The Sequel

Serenity (from Firefly)

81%

Enterprise D (from Star Trek)

75%

Moya (from Farscape)

69%

Millennium Falcon (from Star Wars)

69%

Nebuchadnezzar (from The Matrix)

63%

SG-1 (from Stargate)

63%

Galactica (from Battlestar: Galactica)

56%

Bebop (from Cowboy Bebop)

38%

Which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? v1.0
created with QuizFarm.com

Creative Writing Strikes Again

2006-02-15T17:56:00.000-08:00

The class is tomorrow, but for my valued subscribers, a sneak peek at what I'm turning in. It may be rough, it may be uninteresting, but it's On Time, which for college papers is all you need.

Where I'm From: an exploration of Shreveport, LA in 3 verses. Bass man, get us started...

Heliopolis on the Red 1836-1914

Captain Henry Miller Shreve
Cleared a logjam from the river
Cleared it, smiled, didn’t leave
Got a charter, built a city
Wild lawless, river traders
Farmers, loggers, holy rollers
Jump the state-line, hit-and-raiders
Steamboats, barges, skiffs and coalers
Brought the goods who brought the masses
Bought the Indians, fought the Yankees
Raising cattle, horses, asses
Planting crops and felling trees

Railroads On The River 1914-1994

Cotton king, but then dethroned
Smelled the oil, sank some wells
Building churches, building homes
Singing songs and spinning tales
Delta blues and country pickin’
Hot night jazz and gospel praising
Slop the hogs and mind the chickens
Tractor pullin, barns a raising
Red faced Cajuns in their pirogues
Red necked cowboys in their Chevys
Share the roads and share the bayous
Drinking beer and plugging levees
Texas oilmen fat and friendly
Baptist preachers saving sinners
Broke ass folks from Mississippi
Eat their Sunday evening dinners.

A City of Tomorrow Haunted By the Ghost of Yesterday 1994----

The city spreads beneath the pines
Swallows farms, consumes plantations
Tears away the kudzu vines
Looped by river’s undulations
Casinos float in steel gray tubs
The Bridge of Neon spans the skies
Lights the crowded bars and clubs
We hope the river doesn’t rise
We hope our levees always hold
We ain’t New Orleans den of sin
We’re fearing God and marching bold
Wait for Tomorrow, worship Back Then

Real News Story

2006-02-15T16:42:00.000-08:00

MYSPACE FOR INTERNET CENSORSHIP, SURVEILLANCE

The popular teen website, Myspace.com, has agreed with a federal court order to turn over records of chat transcripts, private messages, and profile pictures in an effort to combat child pornography. A flurry of recent investigative reports in major media outlets have sparked a grassroots fire, that has been lit under Congressional representitives. The Deprtament of Justice is investigating rumors of unAmerican activity and lewd conduct over the popular site. Recently, the DOJ subpoenaed records from Google, Yahoo, and AOL for the same reasons. This new effort far outsrtips these requests, as specific people and profiles are being turned over instead of anonymous user statistics. The lack of outcry from civil rights groups is being largely chalked up to exhaustion, and the fact that Blackberry wireless devices are no longer operable. "It's harder to stay focused, on message, and react to new outrages", said one anonymous ACLU intern. "We have our hands full with these [expletive deleted] Danish cartoons." Rupert Murdoch, the media tycoon who owns Fox News and Myspace.com , was unavailable for comment. In totally unrelated news, Bill O'Reilly, popular FoxNews commentator and author, was overheard to remark, "Time to start trolling Xanga."

This Is Not A Real News Story.

but it sure could be...based off of this story and earlier reports about DOJ vs Google. And Rupert Murdoch really does own Myspace.com boys and girls. I'm waiting for the fake news stories scandal to break...maybe fake profiles of Iraqi children grateful for US troops. Or, a fake Democratic Hill-staffer posting about her sexual exploits. All you'd have to do is troll the D.C. Craigslist personal ads.

More to come, later.

Tell me more, tell me more...

2006-02-13T10:29:00.000-08:00

FULTON, Mo. — When Wendy DeVore, the drama teacher at Fulton High here, staged the musical "Grease," about high school students in the 1950's, she carefully changed the script to avoid causing offense in this small town. She softened the language, substituting slang for profanity in places. Instead of smoking "weed," the teenagers duck out for a cigarette. She rated the production PG-13, advising parents it was not suitable for small children.
But a month after the performances in November, three letters arrived on the desk of Mark Enderle, Fulton's superintendent of schools. Although the letters did not say so, the three writers were members of a small group linked by e-mail, all members of the same congregation, Callaway Christian Church. Each criticized the show, complaining that scenes of drinking, smoking and a couple kissing went too far, and glorified conduct that the community tries to discourage. One letter, from someone who had not seen the show but only heard about it, criticized "immoral behavior veiled behind the excuse of acting out a play."

Down to the river where they caught a wild alligator...

2006-02-13T09:36:00.000-08:00

The weekend goes too fast. I bought my Bonnaroo tickets last night...if the Navy gets in the way I'm going to be PISSED. Radiohead, Tom Petty, DCfC, Matisyahu, CYHSY, and more. The lineup is here. Started in on my Creative Writing homework assignment. The theme of the poem has to be "Where I'm From" but the interpetation of that is open. So I thought about it for a while, tried some abstract themes, (maybe, like, it's the poem writing itself, dude...wow) but I gave up, put on a Sufjan Stevens CD, and started in on an epic-poem about the history and culture of Shreveport. I'd like to hear it set to music, but maybe it's for the better. But it's interesting to me that I'm writing a song in my head, for a poetry assignment. That's never happened before. Oh well. When I see Sufjan at Bonnaroo (!) I can ask him for pointers. and recommend he do Louisiana next, in his series of US State CDs.

On my buddy Josh's recommend (one of two friends in Alaska) I picked up R. Scott Baaker's The Darkness That Comes Before. It's a fantasy novel, similar to George R. R. Martin, but instead of the War of the Roses, he's writing the Crusades, and it's GOOD. The author is working on a PhD in Philosophy at, of all places, Vanderbilt (weird how that place keeps turning up in my life). And the writing reflects that. It's very adult with philosophical issues, and damned well written. I read 150 pages in less than a day, and highly reccommend it. Check it out here.

Oh yes, and I DL'ed and watched the new BSG. Effin' brilliant. Character Death Character Death! And it was totally unexpected. So go watch it.

Oh, and I wrote a short piece about discrimination against minority Uyghur Muslims in Xianjiang, China. Because if there's anything that warrants howls, flag burnings, and political censure it's this.

I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine

2006-02-10T20:18:00.000-08:00

I got the new Fiona Apple CD as a very late Christmas present from Nicole...it's perfect because I'd have never bought it, but now that I have it I'm listening to it a lot. I remember Tidal from the 90's...I liked her, but never quite got into the scene that developed around Fiona's image. Many years later, I can appreciate the music for itself without the baggage that marketers loaded her down with. Go for it. (And, no, I don't listen to "O Sailor" on repeat).

Busy week, at a new command, in a teaching job. It's now my job to help out future intel specialists and cryppies, show 'em the ropes and facilitate learning. But today, I cleaned out a locker room, which was frankly horrible. Saving the world, one damp sponge at a time. Join the Navy, kids. Here's a broom.

Er. Creative Writing. Yes. Had the first night of that class last night, and on first blush it looks to e more interesting tha Philosophy because of the class mix. I feel like an old man in PHIL 100, but in ENG 249 there is a good mix of adults and 13th graders. Our first assignment is to write a poem about "Where We're From". Later on we'll have to attend a poetry or book reading, do a series of poems, an essay, and a short story.

I'm thinking about Tennessee, people there, and plans to be made.

No Dark Sarcasm In the Classroom

2006-02-07T22:05:00.000-08:00

Today was my first day of school. Well, night really. I was hoping that the pattern of taking night classes in community college would hold true: that the average student would be slightly older and more mature than the 13th grade that's around during daylight hours.

Wrong.

Parking was ridiculously bad, but luckily, so is enforcement. I parked on a red curb without a parking decal, and didn't get a ticket; I was certainly not the only person there parked illegally. Maybe they just gave up? Circling a lot for 20 minutes is not my idea of a fun time, so I was in a fine mood when I finally found the "H" Building at the opposite end of the campus from where I parked. So, tonight's class was Logic and Critical Thinking. Turns out the prof is a fellow named Josef who spends his time translating Nietschze from Deutsch to English. Charming guy, he repeatedly insulted Muslims and non-Europeans in general. I also learned quite abit about the phenomenon of graduate students teaching undergrad classes in most colleges. I knew the TA thing happened sometimes, but not all the time. So I ask you, readers who are in and who have been in college. What percentage of your classes were taught by someone barely older than you who had no credentials to teach? That's very disturbing. What all of this had to do with Logic is anyone's guess...it was a 3 hour class with about 15 minutes of material: forgivable since this was the first day. But this guy is gonna get insufferable if every class is full of him hectoring the students about the educational system.

Can't WAIT until Thursday.

MANIMALS!

2006-02-06T20:43:00.000-08:00

Animal Farm Raided

FBI, BATF, FFA Storm “Compound” After Tense Standoff

Only days after President Bush’s State of the Union address where he vowed to protect Americans from human-animal hybrids, federal law enforcement and the Future Farmers of America acted decisively to round up and arrest the leaders of a hybrid gang. The innocently named “Jones farm” was the scene of a standoff for hours Saturday as human-animal hybrids, known as “Manimals” tried to negotiate a political settlement with federal officials. The FBI was unsure as to their role until the President’s speech. As soon as Mr. Bush made his opinions known, agents swung into action.

The leader of the manimals, one “Snowball” apparently held the small family farm in a dictatorial tyranny, masquerading as a worker’s paradise. Collectivized agriculture, lack of freedom of expression, and outright hostile actions were referred to as “Animalism”. The manimals were capable of human speech, writing and unfortunately human ambitions. The deviance was first uncovered by an anonymous tip from a contact mysteriously codenamed “Moses”, whose testimony led to the NSA disguising a microphone and radio transmitter as a brick. The NSA claims it was acting to protect Americans and so did not need a warrant. As animals are not citizens of the United States, USSID 18 and the FISA do not apply in this instance.

The creatures in the farm were demanding tax exempt status as they claimed Animalism was a religion, exemplified by 7 commandments, and an afterlife in the Big Sugar Candy Mountain. Originally the FBI was planning on instituting a regime change for the oppressed manimals toiling under the reign of “Snowball” and his lieutenant “Napoleon” but instead opted to seize and arrest all the inhabitants of the Jones Farm, on charges of being human-animal hybrids. The raid was undertaken with minimal casualties. One of the manimals, Muriel, was slightly injured when she tried to eat he disguised NSA brick in protest, but no other injuries were reported.

-Aaron Sheehan

(Above is on LittleManMag's Myspace...the new clearinghouse for Alan and mine's stuff. Search for littlemanmag@gmail.com to find Danish cartoons, and more!)

lighthouse, tall and grand, standing on a cold headland

2006-02-06T16:01:00.000-08:00

It's been brought to my attention that a lot of people in Shreveport read this blog. While I'd like to write about S-port, I cant say anything original that you all don't already know: and the rest of the readership here couldn't be presuaded to care about it. Sorry. Usually when I tell people I'm from Shreveport, they say, "oh yeah, I drove through there once". There ya go...flyover country, red state America. It's a great place to be from. Past tense. I like a lot of things about it, but...well, I couldn't get a decent job there unless I got into healthcare or blackjack.

Alan is going to publish the Eisley article...in fact, he got a band photo and after I told him the saga of getting gang-tackled by legions of fanboys and the band's parents...Let There Be Publishing!
I had planned on vetting the article, and getting approval from the band first, but that seems unlikely. Heh! Also, I might just wankle my way into music journalism at Bonnaroo in TN. Unpaid, of course, but great fun. I'm glad the internet is providing me with free practice shots at writing. Speaking of writing, college starts this week. The better stuff I end up writing will probably end up here, because nobody else is going to publish an essay on why San Diego is shallower than a dried up puddle.

Speaking of country aphorisms: this was overheard in the plane as we landed in Vegas from Shreveport:
"Well, Ah'm jes' confused as a goose. Mah cell phone clock just changed times while I was looking at it! How'd it know ah was in Vegas?" This guy was sitting in front of me, and he talked about this with the entire plane for a good 5 minutes. A lot of people on that plane had never flown before, and were fascinated by things like overhead luggage bins, and time zones.

By the way, I'm collecting sightings of "human-animal hybrids". After POTUS mentioned the threat from them in his SOTU address, I am positive some of you have seen them. So e-mail, and we can push for some sort of color-coded alert system.

Pull me out of the air crash

2006-02-04T23:13:00.000-08:00

Such a lot has happened, so much distance traveled, many people seen. Lots to parse, but it's late...I am attempting to set some of it down here so that I'll have less to do tomorrow. Tomorrow, which is Superbowl Sunday. Yeah, blogging and thinking won't be on my list of things to do. Tuesday I drove up to Los Angeles, and met up with Jonathan and Alana, whi just got back from a long several months backpacking through interior China, New Zealand, Fiji, and the Cook Islands. They flew in to LAX..the idea was that I would spend a few days showing them around San Diego, but alas they were so ahead fo schedule that I had already made plans to fly back to Louisiana. So I very, very quickly drove up the 5 to LA...2 hours or so, we met up and I got to talk to someone who I haven't seen in years. So, all you liberated young people out there who want to Make A Difference, and everyone who really wants to do something worthy of an indie-rock anthem and backpack through a strange country and work at organic farms, and stay in hostels...these are the people to talk to. They've done it, son, and have notes. I saw Hollywood just by hanging around them, their glamour is so strong...and I have the anti-Bush stickers and papers to prove it. Imagine what 24 hours in their presence would accomplish...

I will blog more when I'm not in a crappy airport WiFi location. Also, when I'm a bit more coherent and have had sleep .

And thanks to the humour sophisticated over at LC. Viva La Revolucion!

PS Coachella lineup announced! yay!

PSPS Bonnaroo lineup annoucned! Shit! It's better than Coachella's!

PSPSPS I have been without internet for several days due to being in Louisiana. So hence the delay in an otherwise punctual blog. Sorry about that, especially since more people read this than I thought.

Ooooooooh Aahhh Oahhhhaaahhh Ohhhhhh

2006-01-30T19:49:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not ghosting for a porn trasncription website....although that's got to be a great job. Those are some actual no shit (!) lyrics from one of my favorite bands...Eisley. And what better way, really, to demonstrate one's fanship than to grossly misappropriate the names and intellectual property of said band? For the slow, that means this is a parody. I had this idea for Little Man involving Christian indie-rockers. I think Alan is going to to make it more Murfreesboro specific, since that's where his readership is...but I had so much fun writing this I thought I'd share it with y'all. Names have been left intact to indict the guity.

Dateline: Tyler, TX

Remember when your pastor told you that listening to records like "War Pigs" from metal groups like "Black Sabbath" would corrupt your soul? Remember when the preacher on TV told you, specifically, not to listen to those LP's backwards, because there were Satanic messages encoded in the lyrics? Well, some of you listened. And now, for you, the credulous and the easily led, there is a new movement in music. Christ's messages of love, cleverly hidden inside popular music.

There's a popular subset of music today known as "indie-rock". It encompasses a vast strata of American culture, and one increasingly well defined niche is Christian indie-rock. But labels and musicians know that being openly Christian is a sure ticket to being called "the next Stryper". Remember them? Thought so. But yet, boys and girls of faith are making the rock and roll their parents condemned! How can they stay true to their faith and still move product? Answer: by hiding those powerful messages inside their songs, where Rolling Stone reviewers can't get to them.

One such band, "Eisley" is no slouch when it comes to the glitz and glamour of modern day "indie-rock". This small family band of Christians from the hill country of Texas professes great familiarity with modern day music. They have seen the Behemoth and they have touched the face of Mammon. Yet in doing so, their own faith became strengthened and they resolved to lead the wayward and stray indie-rockers into God's guiding love.

Their father, and marketing leader "Boyd", had this to say, "We realized about halfway through our first tour that Christians were over-represented in our audience, but under heard. You could spot them in the bars and clubs that we played, the kid sitting towards the back in his Newsboys shirt and a cloth backpack with a NLV Bible inside. They clapped, but they didn't yell. But these kids kept showing up, night after night. We decided, after a family meeting and I don't mind telling you, a lot of coffee, that we had to reach out to them."

And reach out they did: backwards. In the first vinyl LP, "Room Noises", there is not a lyric or chord that suggests anything about Christ. "We had to conform to the Man's demands. You know, The Man" said guitarist Chauntelle Dupree. Her sister Sherri interrupted. "It was like, totally sad. We were told by Warner (their record label) that unless we wanted to be pigeon-holed as a Christian band, we couldn't sing about Jesus. So we hid our messages!" she exclaimed, her bright eyes twinkling with mischief. Chauntelle explained. "A lot our songs don't make much sense," she stated flatly. "That's because you're listening to them frontwards. But played backwards..." She smiles.

I was able to get a transcript of some of the original lyrics for one of the band's most popular songs, as they were originally written. I can't tell you what song it is, that's all copyrighted. But see for yourself:

"Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers,
Deuteronomy make up the holy Pentateuch
But nothing compares to Lord Jesus's wonders
And Satan is a big fat kook"

You'd never think that such a message was hidden, but when I got home and unwrapped the Room Noises vinyl LP that Boyd had thoughtfully given me, I discovered it for myself. I called him immediately afterwards to ask two followup questions. I caught him on his cell phone at a local Starbucks. "What about the CD market", I asked him. "I mean, who listens to vinyl?" He was silent for a moment, and I heard only slow measured sipping. Then he replied, "Indie-rock is all about being different. A lot of people, not just kids, are demonstrating their independence from conventional audio formats by getting into records. They saw their parents old turntables, and Who albums, and want something like that for themselves. And because everything sounds better on vinyl." "What about your band", I asked candidly. "They've toured with a lot of secular humanists, amoral rock bands, and been on stage in I imagine some pretty rough places. Not places where God's love is readily apparent. Can you keep your faith strong and stay Christian and how hard has it been?" He replied as only as a good Christian can. "With prayer, Macintosh recording software, and a lot of caffeine we can do anything."

In Heaven His Throne is Made of Gold

2006-01-28T18:12:00.000-08:00

Random conversations with people in bars, some good writing, and maybe a little bourbon are percolating through me right now. Last night, I walked over to my pub to see my friend's wedding ring (date set for April...wedding #4 I have to attend this year). In the process, a very friendly guy from the East German side of Berlin talked to me about religion for a bit, and how apparantley in Berlin every year all the big religious groups get together for a mass prayer session at what I think is Alexander Square. We tried to figure out why people just couldn't get along, and then I turned around and got in on an animated discussion about Art vs art, and arttists vs craftsmen, and what the role of Artists in society was. It got awfully pretentious there toward the end...fascinating conversation. We bitched about Ayn Rand, and I tried to understand what would make someone believe that Artists should be their own caste in society, and that Art could only be understood by Artists. "Intellectual development" kept getting bandied about by one guy. I ended up walking away after about half an hour, because the pretension got suffocating.

Watched an old Dr. Who episode today (The 5 Doctors...downloaded and burned to DVD), bought a Raymond Chandler collection of shorts, and wrote a bit. Oh, also got last night's episode of Battlestar Galactica. The first 5 minutes had me worried I had missed an episode somewhere along the line, because the nature of the drama changed so abruptly. It was, as usual, very good.

Today is my first Day Off since...since I was on leave. Enjoying it very much. Started reading "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, One of Christ's Childhood Pals" by Christopher Moore. It's better than I thought it would be, but hell, Christopher Moore usually is.

By the way, if the opportunity comes up to watch the "Babe I'm on Fire" video by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: do it. Just don't expect the usual 4 minute MTV exhibition. Wow.

Cetti Bay, Guam

2006-01-27T18:14:00.000-08:00

Story Water

2006-01-27T18:10:00.000-08:00

A story is like water
That you heat for your bath
It takes messages between the fire
and your skin. It lets them meet,
and it cleans you!

Very few can sit down
in the middle of the fire itself
like a salamander or an Abraham.
We need intermediaries.

A feeling of fullness comes,
but it usually takes some bread
to bring it.

Beauty surrounds us,
but usually we need to be walking
in a garden to find it.

~Rumi (trans. Coleman Barks)

MacFengShui

2006-01-25T16:46:00.000-08:00

Fairies stop developers' bulldozers in their tracks

That idiot boy in the corner is speaking deviated truths

2006-01-25T16:22:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm back to capping posts with enigmatic lyrics. Can anyone name the artist and title? Anyone? Yeah, I thought so.

This bit is going to irritate some people, but here it is. This morning, after I got out of work early, I walked down in warm San Diego weather to the local coffee shop, but I got sidetracked by one of the used bookstores between my apartment and the cafe. I stopped in, bought a $2 Borges paperback, and then kept walking, where I got my mocha and sat down and read for a bit, since Arcade Fire's Funeral was on the cafe speakers.

Yeah my life is OK. How's yours? insufferable

I read a bit more into my Sunshine/Noir book, because I have literally a very old habit of reading textbooks before class starts. Seriously, I started doing that in 1st grade. What I'm finding is that there is not very much creative writing inside. The fiction is all South-Of-The-Border surrealism, and the rest of it is mediocre poetry and gringoes whining about how much San Diego has lost it's soul...because of all the rich white people. I don't know if this is an intentional ironic selection by the editor, but I doubt it; and I imagine that when I point this out in class it won't be fun for me. Ah well. Why can't people just write good short fiction and we can read that? No, the beast of story must be laden with the basket of being Commentary.

I'm finally back to normal hours tomorrow, which means that I get the weekend off! First day off in 2 weeks...I have plans, oh yes I do. Poker night on Friday!

I have been collating tuition information on colleges...going to the places I'm interested in, checking out the academic programs, and how much it costs. Best deal so far? Austin Peay University in Clarksville, TN...also University of Florida in Gainesville. both have Journalism programs...hmm.

Oh, and I took this test and found out that I'm an ENTP, or Inventor in Jungian archetypes. Here's what it had to say:
risk taker, easy going, outgoing, social, open, rule breaker, thrill seeker, life of the party, comfortable in unfamiliar situations, appreciates strangeness, disorganized, adventurous, talented at presentation, aggressive, attention seeking, experience junky, insensitive, adaptable, not easily offended, messy, carefree, dangerous, fearless, careless, emotionally stable, spontaneous, improviser, always joking

We are only 3.9% of the population...and for desired professions, the first thing that popped up was "dictator".

So vote for Aaron. England prevails!

Er.

Sunshine/Noir

2006-01-24T15:51:00.000-08:00

That's the title of my ENG Intro to Creative Writing text...it's a collection of San Diego and Tijuana based short stories; edited by my professor I think. 'Cause when you're a teacher, you get to foist your own stuff off on students and bump up the royalty payments. I already read the introduction, and there are some good points in there...things I noticed fairly quickly about this place. Here's a taste:

"Perhaps the suffocating banality of official San Diego's pious "America's Finest City" mantra has led even those who know better to think that nothing is possible here other than the affectless pleasure that comes from drifting back and forth between the beach and the mall."

The introduction basically decries the fact that San Diego has no literary voice, tradition, or movement despite being a magnet for the talented. People here just don't read, or think, beyond their next excursion to the Zoo or Pacific Beach. Which is why I can never settle here. It's busy, and vibrant, but it's a Mastercard kind of life.

Journalistic Attempt

2006-01-23T19:35:00.000-08:00

Mythology for Modern Times

“Finnish wizards used to sell wind to storm-stayed mariners. The wind was enclosed in three knots; if they undid the first knot , a moderate wind would sprang up; if the second, it blew half a gale; if the third, a hurricane. “ - from The Golden Bough by Sir James G. Frazer

KNOT FREE
There is a worldwide furor blowing about internet privacy rights, and how much online content providers have to conform to government regulations. At what point does bending over and taking it stop being good business and start being a human rights violation? For the first knot in our rope of wind, we go to …China!

Earlier this year, MSN Spaces shut down the blog of a Chinese national (Zhao Jing) whose blogs rubbed Chinese government censors the wrong way. He wrote about a high profile newspaper strike in Beijing, prompted by the firing of the independent minded editor of the Beijing News. 100 journalists struck to protest, which is very odd in a country that has almost no professional journalistic organizations, and even fewer protections for those who stray outside of reporting the State’s version of The News. But it gets better. Microsoft’s own blogging software is designed to filter out those dirty words like “democracy” and “human rights” from blog titles to aid the government in deleting posts and tracking down and arresting “dissidents”. Thanks MSN! And Yahoo is no better, after providing the Chinese government with information from a personal email account that led to the arrest of a Chinese journalist who was writing about Chinese returning to China for the 15th anniversary of the Tiananmen massacre. Google censors websites for Falun Gong, an “illegal” organization in China. Google “Taiwan independence” and see what you get. The servers for these companies are maintained here in the good old U.S.A., but spokespersons for these companies insist they are obligated to “follow local custom and law”. Really?

Do you want to know more?
Radio-Free Asia

So, fellow news-becalmed sailors, let’s untie the second knot and see what half a gale feels like. Why, it looks like porn! That’s right, the Guvmint is trying to revive the Child Online Protection Act, which will keep The Children safe from…wait. Hang on. The Supreme Court declared that act unconstitutional! Not because the Supreme Court likes pornographic material (well, not as far as we know. Paging Clarence Thomas?). It was because the Act would violate the right to privacy and the rights of free expression that we all expect from the Internet, our ISP’s, and our online content providers. You know, like MSN, Yahoo, and Google. But now the DOJ (That’s Department of Justice to canny Beltway-savvy bloggers) has requested…nay, demanded that these companies turn over the search results of you and me over. The idea being to illustrate how easy it is to find porn on the internet, and thus to justify censoring websites and tracking what Americans are surfing for. Of course, this is basically data strip-mining with a truck of ammonium nitrate…but Microsoft and Yahoo have already complied. Thanks guys! I’ll be sure to quit searching for Natalie Portman Nude on MSN Search. Thank God for Google, who is challenging this in court. Since most of these companies have bent over and dropped their pants for the Chinese government, it’s no surprise they are getting out the K-Y for our own. And it’s you and me, fellow Americans, who are going to wake up sore and wonder where our rights went.

Do you want to know more?

Reuters Story

And now it’s time to make a hurricane. Take 2 ounces of rum, ½ a teaspoon of grenadine…wait. No, I mean a REAL hurricane. How about domestic wiretapping? The former head of the NSA, General Hayden, had this to say today:
“The tools and techniques and tactics and procedures we use to determine ‘Is this an al Qaeda communications?’ are the same tools, techniques, tactics and procedures we use to tell America’s armed forces that ‘you can go ahead and put a 500-pound bomb on that target,’ ” Hayden said. “It’s the same art and science. So this is not done … idly.”
Oh man, that’s a relief. I mean…

Oops, Sorry Kurds
Oops, Sorry Afghans
Oops, Sorry Iraqis

I’m glad to know that we’re being careful.

West Wing Finally Over

2006-01-23T06:12:00.000-08:00

http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/13687667.htm

Finally, the Sorkin-less zombie corpse of what was once the best thing on network TV will finally lay down and DIE! DIE! DIE!

The ratings haven't been good, and I guess the writers finally realised that without Martin Sheen or John Spencer, nobody would watch. The show got disgustingly bad in the last couple of seasons, and more and more unconvincing.

Oh, and my supporting a football team on my blog seems to be the kiss of death. So I'll stop doing it. Fie on you, Carolina.

Last night I bought Spoon: Gimme Fiction at Borders. I really like it so far. Anyone out there recommend any more of their albums? Also considering Team Sleep:S/T but it's a bit pricey in stores and I can't get a Torrent to download. Pandora threw it out there as a Radiohead alternative, and I liked the one song that I heard, but I can't get decent clips online. Who has it? Who's heard it?

Are You Ready for some Football?

2006-01-22T15:24:00.000-08:00

Things I have done today:

1) Actually made and ate breakfast
2) Listened to The Bends the whole way through, thanks to traffic jams
3) Did my bit for the daily Ops brief
4) Made and ate a big lunch
5) Worked out
6) Cleaned out my car
7) Did laundry
8) Watched the Steelers clobber the Broncos!!! I can't think of a more deserving team to go to S:XL

Things to do today:

9) Watch the Carolina Panthers lay some smackdown on Seattle.
10) Win a paid trip to London through the San Diego Herald-Tribune
11) Unemployed and bored, the San Diego Chargers cheerleaders show up at my house....

Good review of BSG on NRO

2006-01-21T08:57:00.000-08:00

http://www.nationalreview.com/comment/suderman200601200838.asp

Or: A good review of Battlestar Galactica on National Review Online.

When the Power Runs Out We'll Just Hum

2006-01-20T19:08:00.000-08:00

British Airways tells me that I can get a r/t flight from Boston to London for as little as $400! Hmm...take a couple of weeks, go to Boston which I've never seen and always wanted to...and then fly to London for a week to see what it is that the guys in Boston in 1775 were so pissed off about. Fun fact: England has more surveillance cameras than any other country in the world with 4.2 million cameras. Look Mum, I'm on the telly!

I filed my taxes at work today...H&R Block.com, as I have for 5 years. I'm getting a few hundred back, which I may just sock away for a London trip. I've always wanted to do this...it may actually be within reach.

Maybe that whale will still be there, assuming London bobbies haven't shot it for being a suspected Al-Qaeda operative.

According to face recognition software, I look like Karl Kraus who was a German Jew who repudiated his Judaism and Zionism....and I also look like Stephen Spielburg, who can't over the fact that he's Jewish. Now I know why people keep telling me I look Jewish. But when I took an online religion test, I scored Muslim. It's tough being me...there's a Partition Line from my nose to me navel.

Not really.

Good night!

That Decemberists Song About the Whale...

2006-01-20T06:17:00.000-08:00

I can't really recall the whole thing, but the important takeaway here is that there's a pilot whale swimming up the Thames RIGHT NOW. At this very moment, a lost whale is swimming by Westminister, under the Tower Bridge, past the House of Commons. Hasn't happened since 1913. http://www.channel4.com/news/content/news-storypage.jsp?id=926020

More coal miners are in danger in West Viriginia...reporters are standing by waiting for Pat Robertson to blame it on Satan. Or possibly Gaza. Or casinoes.

That's all I really have right now, but I've had coffee and done some actual, you know, work, I may be back.

So Say We All

2006-01-17T19:38:00.000-08:00

Short post, because I'm tired. I just downloaded the latest Battlestar Galactica episode from BitTorrent...why? Because there's no way I'm springing for a cable package that includes Sci Fi Channel for the sole purpose of watching one show. And ITunes gets none of my money, ever. Screw you, Steve Jobs!

This show is so well written, with such believable characters...and it has spaceships! And it doesn't have plastic-forehead-alien-of-the-week disease like certain other sci-fi serials (koff Trek koff). The special effects are beautiful, and get this: the last episode features the largest space battle of the series so far. You know what? More time is spent following the characters, side plots, and letting dramatic tension build rather than an hour long orgy of pixels exploding. When was the last time a Hollywood writer had a nice epic battle sequence all done up and chose instead, to write people. Not that the battle isn't very pretty, but this is where science-fiction lies: with people.

Also reading Spider Robinson's Time Travelers Strictly Cash which I highly recommend if you like Heinlein or humans or booze. Or really awful puns.

Okay, maybe this post isn't short. I got all hyped up just writing it.

Come on it's time for something Biblical...

2006-01-16T18:32:00.000-08:00

I guess with a title like that I should use the word cubit, or prophesy something awful. Nah. I just finished reading Kafka On The Shore. Amazing book, with a lot of the same elements that were explored in Hard Boiled Wonderland & the End of the World... some plot devices here that would have totally imploded the story in the hands of a lesser writer. Once again, Murakami manages to walk the fine line between the soul-shakingly trascendental and the ridiculous.

Pretension in my mouth tastes like apple juice. Or is that really apple juice? Maybe it's a bitter, hungry ghost of the apple that became the juice. Yes, I am being mildly sarcastic here...but go read Kafka On The Shore. It's very, very good.

Hannah, I can't re-read the Murakami yet, because I read the first one only 9 months ago. I need forgetfullness time.

I spent a few hours today talking esoteric cryptologist talk with a couple of contractors...it was fun and I actually felt enthusiastic about the job, for a bit. The idea that I can change the way some things are done...I sure hope so. But I don't want to become that future.

Update

2006-01-16T10:35:00.000-08:00

CNN is acknowledging the gaffe. They really did mistranslate "nuclear energy" into "nuclear weapons."

D'oh! Iran claims it was deliberate, CNN says it was an accident. Until it gets resolved, you'll have to get your Iran news from other outlets, like BBC or IHT. Not Fox though. I'd rather have no news than Fox News.

2006-01-16T09:09:00.000-08:00

Again I am misusing government resources to bring you this blog; again I am bored out of my mind at work. What I've learned so far: Iran has revoked the press credentials of CNN journalists because Iran believes they mistranslated the phrase "nuclear technology" into "nuclear weapons". Given that Christiane Amanpour, the lead CNN journalist in Iran is herself of Iranian descent and speaks Farsi, this seems a bit unusual. The alleged mistranslation occured during a CNN live telecast of President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's press conference on Saturday.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4617754.stm

It's unclear if CNN is acknowledging the error. Sources vary.

Also, from China: http://www.iht.com/articles/2006/01/15/opinion/edmirsky.php and http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/15/weekinreview/15zeller.html

which tell about how the government of China, with the help of Yahoo, AOL, MSN, and Google collude to block "forbidden" websites from Chinese internet surfers. A search for "Falun Gong" on Yahoo China doesn't reveal any matching pages...do that on regular old Yahoo US and you get thousands of results. This is hardly new stuff, but it's interesting to me the levels at which Western web content companies are complying with this sort of censorship. Makes one wonder if there's anything they're keeping from us. Also, to what extent should multinational corporations be held responsible for upholding human rights where they do business? Again, nothing new. Just what's crossing my mind.

I have no days off for the foreseeable future, so blogging may be sporadic. By the time I get home I generally don't feel like typing. Plus, I have a sofa and loveseat now so I no longer have to sit down in my office chair. I can be horizontal and happy, so expect Aaron-Productivity to go way, way down.

Statue outside Capitol Dome

2006-01-12T17:07:00.000-08:00

Vote for Aaron!

2006-01-12T17:04:00.000-08:00

God & lighthouse man, guide this sailor back to land

2006-01-12T16:53:00.000-08:00

Questions for the day.

1) What am I going to do when I run out of Murakami books to read? I picked up Kafka on the Shore a few days ago and read more than half of it on the plane yesterday. Seriously...his books put my head and heart in the right alignment...not too many other word-mechanics can do that consistently.

2) Is there another deployment in my future? Iran, please stop enriching uranium. I would like to do an actual semester of college. Oh, and please stop the Jew-baiting. Pat Robertson is bad enough.

3) How many Borges short stories can I read without laying down the book and blinking rapidly before reaching for a drink?

4) Whither Journalism?

Those are my questions. Anyone have any answers?

The Turtle Moves!

2006-01-11T10:12:00.000-08:00

Right now, this turtle is in the Nashville Airport, also known as BNA to airport three letter code afficianados. My flight doesn't leave for two more hours so here I sit, blogging for both of my readers. Really, it's an excuse to type on a wireless laptop in an aiport and drink chai, pretending I'm relevant.

It's been a grand trip, with a lot of adventures, alcohol, music, friends, driving, and Deep Thoughts. Soent last night in Nashville, at Cafe Cocoa and then to some bar named the Village(?) where I talked to with two Associated Press reporters and played darts with them and Alan. I am reconsidering Journalism as a career now that I've met people who can make a living doing it. I think working at Barnes and Noble for so long, so early really made me bitter towards liberal arts and huamnities majors, because they were so bitter about being over educated and underemployed. It's a bitter root, this college stuff.

Several people in Atlanta and Murfresboro reacted favorably to the caustic bit I wrote for the Little Man: if the zine thrives I expect to write a lot more for it. Upcoming college Writing classes have me upbeat about further honing the process.

Alan and I discussed over breakfast at IHOP this morning why the gargantuan music festival business is doing so well. Go back 10 years and there were only a few...most of them dedicated to very targeted groups, or trying to recreate the 60's. Now we have Coachella, Lilith Fair, SXSW, Bonnaroo, Ozzfest, Jazzfest, etc. Why the jump in popularity? What is different now about the music business that it supports such endeavors, and how does that impact musicians, record companies, and labels? Is it a good thing? If you have an opinion, weigh in.

Two fantastic new books opened up to me from Alan - King of the Ferrett Leggers by D. Katz: an incredibly well written collection of journalistic shorts that covers a wide ground. The opening story is an interview about a Yorkshire man who stuffs lives ferrets down his pants for hours at a time. It moves on from there to cover voyeurs, Bill Mauldin, business, and other sundries. The other book I'm less familiar with but even more enthusiastic about because it's by Bill Kovach and it's called Elements of Journalism. He is the founding director of the Committe of Concerned Journalists, and something of a god among journalists, or at least in certain circles.

When next I post, I will be in San Diego, back to the grind. I will try to bottle and ferment the vapors of the last two weeks and drink from it, from time to time.

I Can Make You a Celebrity Overnight

2006-01-08T18:22:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm really listening to Twista. I'm in the Georgia Tech dorms, watching a bunch of people are are far smarter than me play Halo 2 while a thumping subwoofer makes sure I'm listening to the wisdom of Twista.

So, as hesitant as I am to declare it, if you follow the link for the Little Man webzine on this site, you'll see content written by yours truly. Do not read it if you are an easily offended Christian, or a coal miner. I told Alan to use a psuedonym...oh well.

It's been a busy and high mileage week...the Little Man Release Party was a success with hundreds of dollars pouring in to the coffers of this plucky little orphan, challenging the piblishing Giants of Tennesee with nothing more than impetus and a bourbon soaked vocabulary. Now I'm in Atlanta visiting the extended family that is scattered around the area. Tomorrow I return to Murfreesboro, and then back to San Diego.

I saw a teeshirt for sale in a Hastings in Tennessee that had a big chrome 'Jesus Fish" on it and the shirt read: "Jesus Got 'R Done" . The South seems more alien to me every time I come back, and that's not a good thing. I need to be repatriated, quickly.

I've Been Learning to Drive My Whole Life

2006-01-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

Now I'm in Murfreesoboro, TN staying with Alan trying to get some content on his new online 'zine (The Little Man, linked on this site). Uzbekistan may feature heavily, as will the Wholphin which I have been watching. Sheer brilliance - if you can rustle up Believer magazine, the Wholphin DVD is inside. Get it and prepare to laugh your ass off, and be stunned into silence by some beautiful cinematogrpahy.

Yesterday spent tooling around D.C. with Pete. Accomplishments include riding the Metro, visiting the Capitol, going to the Smithsonian Air and Space museum, touring the Pentagon (it's good to have friends in low places). Caught up with friends, watched some Rose Bowl action (USC got hooked by those 'horns). Also ate dinner at the oldest Irish pub in the US, which was was very small and friendly. Odd: with that sort of history (established 1847) you might expect The Oldest Irish Pub to have its own line of t-shirts or at least souvenir magnets, but this was not the case. Good food (sauerbraten and dumplings) and good beer (Yuengling). Patrick's on Pratt Street is the bar. Go there next time you're in Baltimore.

Tomorrow is going to involve local bands, beer, and college kids. Ah, flashbacks.

In the Streets of Baltimore

2006-01-03T06:24:00.000-08:00

Well, Glen Burnie, really. The long road trip is over - boy was it fun. Highlights? Driving through the rolling fog and rain along I-95 listening to Black Adder on CD. Eating at a Waffle House. Going to Pedro's South of the Border, a true American icon if ever I saw one, and one that deserves to be in some surreal Americana novel. Low points: my God, the rain. And the rain. Not having rear tail signals. Traffic in Richmond.

But now, here I am, in fabulous Maryland, in Pete's apartment, listening to the upstairs neighbors tread the floorboards heavily. Hopefully I can get my cellphone soon, and hopepfully a guided unofficial tour of the Pentagon will happen tomorrow. Thursday it's off to Nashville, and then Atlanta.

I finished the first Sandman comic, and it was good. I will end up getting the rest of them, eventually. I would keep typing but there's an elderly cat demanding I pay attention to her and not the laptop, so adieu.

Balboa Park: Architecture in San Diego

2005-12-31T15:22:00.000-08:00

Road Trip!!!

2005-12-31T15:05:00.000-08:00

Well, thusly it's been more of a plane trip than a road trip. My cell phone was detained for questioning at the TSA checkpoint at the San Diego airport - it's being FedEXed to Baltimore hopefully Tuesday. So to anyone who might try to call - sorry I'm incommunicado. Caught the red-eye flight into Orlando, basically was awake for 72 hours until last night. Right now in Sarasota, FL, the old (Folks) Home. It's been well preserved, like a mosquito in an amber lump that will one day be misused for science: ie turned into an enormous condomenium.

At my buddy Bob's apartment, hooked up to a computer that is water-cooled in a transparent glowing case...with a 36" LCD monitor. I have met the UberGeek, and he is Bob. Saw all the people from my previous life who still work at Barnes & Noble - like a black and white lithograph. Like a movie cell cut out and framed. Eerie. I come back each year primarily to remind myself why I left after 3 years.

I could go on and on about Wednesday, and going to the Timkin Museum with Annie, and talking into the wee hours of the night: but I won't, because she already did it, so if you go here: http://www.livejournal.com/users/latentblue/ and read the 29 December entry you'll get the same effect. Good times.

I bought a bunch of comics - having gone to Sci-Fi City in Orlando and Pop! Comics in Sarasota - I feel my geek quotient increasing. I picked up the first Sandman trade because enough people have convinced me to give it a chance. Also got V is for Vendetta, because I don't think I'll see the movie - but the story looked good. And I scored some Uncle Scrooge, because nobody rocks harder than Scrooge McDuck.

New Years with friends in my old Pub, and tomorrow we hit the road for Baltimore. No clue when I'll next be at a wireless hotspot and update this page for you good people - but best wishes to both of you and have a good New Years celebration. Get drunk and kiss someone new at midnight!

Sunset over the Dunes in the U.A.E. or Muad-dib!

2005-12-27T19:33:00.000-08:00

All The Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands

2005-12-27T17:53:00.000-08:00

Tired...tired! Had duty today as JOOD, and it was the busiest watch I've ever stood on the quarterdeck. Drive, drive, drive...courier, scurry, ferret, clean. At least it was only 11 1/2 hours long...30 minutes early! Thanks for leaving, Skipper!

Went to Pacific Beach yesterday and picked up at a used CD store the following:

Broken Social Scene - S/T - $7.99
Randy Newman - Good Old Boys - $6.99
U2 - War - $5.99

Why would I buy an album I have in its entirety already from BitTorrent? Well, besides being only 6 bucks, now I know which track is which because the file I got is one long .mp3. And now it's portable, and shareable. I know, wasn't that the point of digital media? Go figure.

Downloaded for free I got Sufjan Stevens Seven Swans, Death Cab for Cutie Plans, And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead....which is the best name for a band, ever...oh yeah, and Takk by Sigur Ros, which is entirely in Icelandic and I haven't made up my mind about this yet. I have harnessed the power of the electronic donkey, and it is STRONG.

Watched a lot of CNN today - further depressing me about what's considered news. Why is it that print media, sich as The Economist, reports on matters of great import with depth and veracity - and a 24-7 outlet like CNN doesn't even mention the stories? Oh...that's right...The Economist is out of the UK, and CNN is out of the US. Who wants to go with me to Britain and say things like "tosser" and "wanker"? I am seriously leaning towards taking a trip there this year, finances, school, and the Navy permitting. Anybody know some good places to stay? Airfare isn't too bad...

Tomorrow will be fun -

Tea For Two

2005-12-25T20:26:00.000-08:00

Two fun links discovered this weekend:the first courtesy of the BBC - http://www.bbc.co.uk/mediaselector/check/doctorwho/ram/2006_preview?size=16x9&bgc=CC0000&nbram=1&bbram=1&nbwm=1&bbwm=1

It's the latest Doctor! I wish I was in England, where all the cool kids make TV shows.

And from Alan Laidlaw, my architect friend, http://www.wholphindvd.com/ A new kind of magazine, and you HAVE to watch the trailer. Because I said so, that's why.

Finished Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman - much better than I thought it was going to be.

I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S Ring the bell and call or write us....

We are awakened with the axe
Night of the living dead at last
The have begun to shake the dirt
Wiping their shoulders from the earth...

Illinois has a zombie problem...away the Undead Response Team!

Sufjan Stevens is a GENIUS. And 3 posts in one day is a record for the MobileChelonian. Fly my pretties, fly...

First Night at Aaron's Apartment

2005-12-25T17:21:00.000-08:00

Gaudete Christus/ Baruch ata Adonai...et al

2005-12-25T10:23:00.000-08:00

I keep seeing references to something called "Festivus" in greeting cards, decorations, and lapel pins...someone tell me what piece of pop culture this is? It doesn't have the ring of authenticity to it.

Amazingly, it's not only the first night of Hannukah tonight but Christmas Day, which doesn't happen very often. So to my Christian friends, Merry Christmas, and to my Jewish fr..wait. Brian? Mom? Happy Hannukah.

Shopping is mostly done, gave the gift of art (oil and canvas) to Nicole before seeing Munich...more on that later. I finally finished Murakami's Norwegian Wood, which I consider one of his better ones. Oddly enough, according to the afterward, in Japan it's considered one of his least interesting, due to the entirely mundane and straightforward nature of it. But after all the magical realism, mythology, and symbolism of his other works, it was refreshing to read something straightforward. Still working on Borges, Jonathan Lethem's Cartoons for Adults which is a collection of shorts...same guy who wrote Fortress of Solitude. Good stuff, varied and well written.

The latest issue of The Word magazine, (a UK monthly) has a piece on the new Dr Who series with Christopher Eccleston as the latest incarnation of the homeless Time Lord. I've downloaded a few episodes, and it's better than I thought it'd be. It's been updated a bit visually, thank God, but the premise and the tongue is still planted firmly in the cheek of the show's writers and producers. It's at heart still about humanity, not about spaceships and explosions. I don't know if the show is available in the US yet on DVD, but use a bitTorrrent server and pirate away.

Oh yes, I got a library card this week, as it appears that there is a small branch within walking distance of my apartment, further cementing Normal Heights as the premiere neighborhood in San Diego. I picked up the Golden Bough, which I am not going to want to return. It's an indepth and fascinating study of the world's mythology and folklegends, with an eye for the internal logic and structure behind many of the legends. Chapters range from discussions of the various Fire Festivals in Europe to the Disposal of Hair and Nail Trimmings in Indonesia. I predict much outright theft from it on my part in my writing.

Oh yes, Munich. Ill just say it was good, long, depressing, and the best spy/assasination thriller I've ever seen because it never lets the technical aspect get away from the people and the plot. Everything has a price, there are no MacGuffins here to overshadow the very high price of vengance, and the consequences of inaction. If I have a quibble with it, it's the drawn out - anti-climatic nature of the film that ends not with a bang but with a walk in the park as the camera pans out. But that's the storyteller in me trying to impose an Ending on a story that doesn't have one - read the Jerusalem Post, anything from MEMRI, or even (grunt) CNN. It's a black and bloody business, this business of statehood.

Oh yes, I'm also having another crack at the Narnia books (starting with the Magician's Nephew, as C.S. Lewis INTENDED). Last year this season I re-read Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising ceries, since that's one of the best YA series ever written. Pick them up if you haven't already.

Good Yule to Y'all-

HO. HO. HO.

2005-12-23T16:38:00.000-08:00

The cold December wind has blown
The oldest gods of winters past
Inside our church, inside your home,
To change their names, and thus outlast
The newer gods of Christmas Now.

There's still a wreath and still a tree,
Even holly, oak, and mistletoe
They live in songs the children sing
Of what they sing they do not know-
A hymn to the gods of Christmas Then.

The Soldiers' God, the Solstice Child
Woden's Huntsmen on the wind
The Sun reborn, so tender and mild
The spear-pierced god is on the mend-
The smaller gods of Christmas When

So as you hang your mistletoe
And tell your sins to Santa Claus
Tuck red-wrapped presents safe below
The tall green tree (with plastic frost)
You're resurrecting the gods of Christmases Past

Like a diamond in the coal

2005-12-22T16:15:00.000-08:00

In less than an hour I will make my way to the pub to pick up my Poinsietta Bowl tickets and carpool with some fellers to Qualcomm to watch Navy's triple-option running offense demolish Colorado State.

I am so sleep deprived it's nutty...in the past 3 nights I've gotten maybe 10 hours combined sleep. This should prove to be an entertaining night...

Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose is an amazing CD. By Crom, she's still got it.

I hope you all had a pleasant Winter Solstice last night. I ran down a stag and dedicated his blood to Santa Claus while singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. Then I had eggnog,

I need SLEEP.

I see the fire, I see the end

2005-12-21T17:10:00.000-08:00

Escondido is a pretty nice place - the smell and sound of the surf smacked me in the face as soon as I stepped out of the car. It reminded me of Siesta Key in Florida, with the small boutique seaside shops and eateries. There were a LOT more people here though. I made the excursion north to visit Lou's Records, which I have been assured is THE place to go if you're looking for music. So away I went, and it was good, bought Sufjan Steven's "Come On Feel the Illinoise" and the Ditty Bops S/T album. Note for all RIAA people out there: I downloaded most of the Sufjan Stevens album before I bought it - being able to preview the songs first was a determining factor in me buying the CD. No, I didn't pay Steve Jobs an iTunes any money either, I used eMule. Same with the Ditty Bops. Now the artists can take their miniscule share of those CD sales. File sharing is an incredibly valuable tool for all artists, regardless of their label size or marketing budget. Embrace us! Embrace me! Let's all HUG!

Today the Senate rejected a defense appropriations bill that contained provisions to open the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve to oil exploration: 80% of the sales in oil leases would be funneled to Hurricane Katrina relief - roughly 6 billion dollars. But no, Democrats who have never set foot in Alaska, never seen the caribou they are protecting and probably never will; killed the bill. The Alaskan Senators have been trying to get this passed for years, because frankly it's not as af anyone ever goes to ANWR. Even the local Inuit tribes want the drilling, because they'd get a huge chunk of money and get to purchase snowmobiles instead of harnessing the natural power of the otter (which they domesticate and saddle for transportation around the ice floes.) What? I'm making it up? You been there? Didn't think so.

In related news, this means my annual cost of living pay increase in January has been held up because of this. So...my 2.5% raise is in danger. Folks, don't EVER get a job where Congress controls your salary. It's far too exciting.

For further evidence of why space exploration and travel should be privatized, read this : http://www.cnn.com/2005/TECH/space/12/15/silver.dart/index.html

Yes, you read that right, the Canadians are doing it too. In unrelated Canadian news, a Supreme Court decision in the Great North has struck down a ban on swingers clubs, basically making it OK to have group sex with strangers. http://www.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/americas/12/21/canada.court.reut/index.html

Next step: Swingers Clubs in SPACE. That's right, zero gravity orgies. Expect sales of plastic sheeting and duct tape to skyrocket.

This Sufjan Stevens CD is really good. He makes Illinois sound exciting...

Oi! Teacher! Leave those kids alone!

2005-12-20T16:33:00.000-08:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10545387/

This is the story about how the teaching of Intelligent Design as an alternative to evolution has been banend by a federal court in Pennsylvania. It's a bit ridiculous on both sides really, as yes, the people slipping into the classroom really were religious fundamentalists trying to throw an elbow in there on old Chuck Darwin...and even MORE ridiculous on the side of the judge, who had this to say: “overwhelming evidence” establishing that intelligent design “is a religious view, a mere re-labeling of creationism, and not a scientific theory." That's not really true at all; Intelligent Design is not religious at all, because it ascribes no attributes whatsoever to the Designer. If they were trying to teach the book of Genesis, than yes. But pointing out some obvious holes in the THEORY of evolution (theory: as in, you know, not yet proven) and postualuting that maybe the earth was Created...that's not religion. That's metaphysics and philosophy...by God, we don't want our kids studying that crap. They could grow up wearing berets and hanging out in coffee shops that smell like patchouli and espresso.

And the President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, has banned all Western music in his country. As if denying the Holocaust, claiming Israel should be wiped off the face of the earth, and purging the government wasn't enough,now there's no more Kenny G in Tehran. No Beatles in Bushehr, no Sheena in Shiraz. Sad. He's trying to rile the people up against external threats so they don't notice the shennanigans going on at home, like the dissolution of political parties too liberal for the IRGC, the imprisonment of journalists who disagree with the Ayatollah, and the unemployment crisis gripping the country. Hmm...wait...is Karl Rove in Iran?

On a lighter note: this http://whatswrongwiththismotionpicture.blogspot.com/2005/05/star-wars-episode-iii-revenge-of-sith.html#comments parody of Star Wars Episode 3 is the funniest thing I've read in a while. Thanks Hannah! Hope your server can handle the additional traffic now that this internet hotspot is publicizing your work.

Also on a light note: http://www.rockpapersaddam.com/index.html - the intel weenies at work laughed. So presumably that means it's funny and mostly visual.

Phew - 'nuff for now.

Misuse of Government Property

2005-12-19T13:48:00.000-08:00

They may have blocked Yahoo, G-Mail, and Hotmail, but the IT's with NMCI forgot about the world of the blog...so here I sit, on a phone watch, the only sailor in the buiding for another 90 minutes. What better use of my time than to blog (and study the Iranian Navy, of course).

Yesterday morning's post was long and tired, and on rereading I don't get the ideas across in the way I want to: I sound like an ass. So be it...political conversations are better in person. They are no good at all in music though, which was the most tiresome thing about the U2: Vertigo tour Live From Chicago DVD I watched yesterday. Some amazing music, and when I looked up the song lyrics, I was equally impressed by their use of imagery in a very gripping way. But watching Bono preach for 5 minutes before a song...not attractive. The man may just have a messiah complex (and a goofy wraparound visor thing that would make Geordi LaForge laugh). He should take a page from his taciturn guitar player, and reticent bassist, and just PLAY MUSIC. Good stuff, anyway. I don't regret pirating "War" and "Achtung Baby" as there are no spoken word bits on it. Anyone want a once-viewed U2 concert DVD?

I did finish the Meeting People is Easy DVD...despite the lack of a scene skipping menu (because art should be difficult). I came away with some rather mixed opinions. It's definitely a different sort of documentary, and as such, it's not all that hot. The only real impressions that it gives are that a) Radiohead was amazingly successful worldwide b) Touring is a sonofabitch c) Japanese fans are WEIRD. OK, I knew all that. But looking at MPIE as an art piece, as a finished product by itself and not trying to glean anything directly from it...well, it's effin' brilliant. It's one LONG music video, Radiohead style, and it supports every theme that runs throughout the album. There's a warning label on the box that speaks of "stroboscopic effects and their effects on epileptics"...screw all that, there should be a label that reads "Warning: induces paranoia and makes you want to join a resistance movement". Kinda like the one in "V is for Vendetta", which trailer I saw immediately after finishing the MPIE DVD. That was a mistake. Now I'm really worried....NSA spies....cameras...government ministers...soylent green...gaaaahhhhh!!!!!

And here I am, working for the MAN, on his computer even. If no more posts appear on this blog, it's because I have been sent to a re-education camp in Oregon. Hypothetically. You know, if there was a camp, it would be in Oregon...because

//THOUGHTCRIME IN PROGRESS

//POST TERMINATED

//HAVE A NICE DAY

The Banality of Evil

2005-12-18T08:42:00.000-08:00

Two contrasting op-eds in the paper this morning about torture...what is torture, is it useful, how, should the US use it, and on whom. Couple of points that I want to bring up because they make sense to me.

First, why do we keep going on about how "the United States is not 'about' torture"? We're "better" than that. How so? We've killed thousands of civilians over the years, and I don't recall seeing anything in the Constitution or Declaration of Independence about not torturing people. US citizens, certainly not. But foreign nationals? Nah. Every major world power ever has used torture to one degree or another. The mark of how humane they are is how ashamed they are of it. We're actually pretty damned humane, and if you want some comparisons look to Syria, Cuba, Libya, North Korea, China, and pre-war Iraq. So don't tell me it's unAmerican to torture. It's not.

Secondly, under what circumstances is it justified? The usual ticking bomb scenario is the justification for using it...say you've captured a terrorist who has knowledge of where a chemical bomb is going to go off...somewhere in Manhattan. If you can save innocent lives, do you do it? Do you coerce or use force to make this person talk? If there is ANY circumstance under which it's OK to torture someone for the greater good and to save innocent people's lives, you've just stepped into it. Now, to paraphrase, you're just haggling over price. How many lives have to be saved to justify torture? How immediate the threat? How certain do you have to be? These are all valid questions that get asked EVERY SINGLE DAY. So if you want to be an idealist and a humanitarian, and say all torture is evil and wrong, that's great but I'm secretly glad that our CT organizations aren't such good people.

I'm not at all in favor of torture - it can be a very unreliable tool, and it goes against everything I believe in as a human. I really don't think I could do it to another person...but I am unwilling to throw it out completely as a nation's tool. The questions about whether or not it's justfied to dunk someone, make them stand for 40 hours at a time, blare loud music at them 24-7...these questions have to be asked every time it comes up. Because ideology is far too expensive a habit to have when security is your job. Ask the Israelis if you don't believe me.

What's more disturbing than that is the domestic spying that's going on. That does contradict the Constitution, no matter how thin you slice it. What's amusing to me is the sudden mad dash to condemn it...coome on Congress, you guys sign the bills, You're on Intelligence Panels, and Defense Appropriations Boards. Now you act surprised that the NSA has been monitoring cell phones? Please....I think most Americans who have half a brain and have ever read an Orwell book have been fairly sure this goes on. Everyone was perfectly fine to overlook it at first, but now it's politiclly too volatile. These questions would have bene raised by real patriots in the very beginning - but you all wanted to get re-elected, and it was fine then.

For the record, I've never done any of that. A few people who know what I do have asked me that question, and honestly, no. I've never been asked to, or done anything like that.

"The deeds were monstrous, but the doer ... was quite ordinary, commonplace, and neither demonic nor monstrous." - Hannah Arendt, speaking of Adolf Eichmann.

Evil looks like us, carries a briefcase, and has a family whom he loves. No excess of a deranged pyschopath can ever come close to the evil committed by an ordinary, regular human being who is just doing his job.

Po'try

2005-12-17T18:45:00.000-08:00

Something I wrote in the Persian Gulf.

Outchop

The day is breaking on the bow,
The night is dropping swift astern,
Behind we leave the Gulf and its dhows,
The heat of the sun and the red of his burn.

We've marked the ports we cannot enter
And moored at the ones that we can,
We've haggled, and thought ourselves winners
With the sons of Dubai and Bahrain.

We've kept sharp watch upon the oceans
For things like "Freedom" and "Maritime Trade"
Daily repeating our motions,
And wondering what difference we made.

The seas of the Gulf are salty and hot,
The water is filthy and often it reeks,
But here fortunes were made and empires bought
And centuries of men rode her troughs and her peaks.

The dark eyed Arab and his cousin the Persian,
The smuggler, and his brother the thief,
Thousands of small bearded fishermen,
Exporting their catch and religious belief.

Amidst all the chaos and myriad races
The captains of tankers sail in and line up
Look at the wells with greed on their faces
Their cut of the profits shows up at our pumps.

Because we are America and we've come for the oil
(And democracy too, until your wells all run dry)
We don't expect thanks for our blood and our toil
But Cadillac Shiekh, don't let the price get too high!

The night is falling on the bow,
And the sailing from here on out is all clear,
No more sweat and forced isolation
The months without love and the weeks without beer.

Trouble

2005-12-16T16:33:00.000-08:00

Big Block of Cheese Day

2005-12-16T16:17:00.000-08:00

No, I didn't eat a big block of cheese (or listen to Cartographers for Social Justice)...but I did zip by the National Review homepage this afternoon for the first time in many months, where I unfortunately discovered that John Spencer who played White House Chief of Staff Leo McGarry on NBC's The West Wing has died at age 59. I always liked old Leo, and I liked the actor who played him. Funny enough, I chose this morning to break out the WW Season 4 DVDs I've been sitting on for a while - and now this.

I haven't seen the show since Aaron Sorkin quit writing, because frankly I thought it went all to hell. But for 4 years, it was the best written thing on network TV even if the Democratic party moral at the end of each show sometimes made me cringe.

Also found a link to this piece, which I use to explain my politics to my liberal friends: http://www.nationalreview.com/dreher/dreher071202.asp - call it Crunchy Conservatism.

Hmm, and I bought Meeting People is Easy, which I am still trying to grok. I've watched a bit over half of it still thinking. Now listening to Beck's Midnite Vultures.

And my dog died. Trouble, the part golden retreiver-collie-chow mix that followed my mother home 15 years ago has finally succumbed to cancer. She was very active right up until a few days ago, which remarkable for a dog that was 112 years old in human years...I was 9 when we she joined the family. I have a hard time remembering when she wasn't the family dog. She was going to get dumped, but instead she got us. Lucky dog...but I've heard from reliable sources that all dogs go to heaven.

There Will Be An Answer -

2005-12-15T17:25:00.000-08:00

Let it Be. I can't say John Lennon or any other Beatle changed my life in a tangible way, but they sure did write and play some damned good music. So a Beatles night it is. What's your favorite album kids? Mine is Abbey Road...

I keep listening to track 08 of I'm Wide Awake It's Morning over and over again - Landlocked Blues. I highly recommend this album for sitting in a still small space and thinking until your eyes hurt. Today was productive: I went to work, made more products for Adm. Miller and the CCSG7 folks, came home, worked out, chatted online, caught up on bills, went grocery shopping, and even did a little writing.

So Mitt Romney announced his plans not to run again for Guv of Mass, further fueling rumors that he will be a presidential contender in '08. He seems harmless enough, although being Mormon will probably hurt his chances. I can't help but think it's time we had a Democrat in office, sheerly for the balance, but I'm not sure it would make any difference. The government would continue to expland, we will still have "peacekeepers" in warm and unpleasant climes, and I will still like pizza. John McCain, where are you?

Depeche Mode has been confirmed by Coachella, lending credence to the unofficial setlist that's been circulating for months that had Depeche Mode as the headliners. Here is the unofficial list as of now -
April 29 Depeche Mode, The Strokes, Portishead, Franz Ferdinand, Fatboy Slim, Massive Attack, Infected Mushroom, Royksopp, Kings of Leon, Doves, Sufjan Stevens, Broken Social Scene, Atmosphere, Blackalicious, Super Furry Animals, The Buzzcocks, Primal Scream, Supergrass, Ladytron, DJ Peretz, The Shins, Dieselboy, Tortoise, Sleater Kinney, Richard Hawley, Grooverider, Death From Above 1979, Yesterday’s New Quintet, The Walkmen, Son Volt, Will Oldham, The Clientele, Lightning Bolt, Cage, The Crimea, OK Go, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, John Kelly

April 30 The White Stripes, Roxy Music (featuring Brian Eno), The Arcade Fire, Sigur Ros, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Boards of Canada, Underworld, Ween, Death Cab for Cutie, Armin Van Buuren, Built to Spill, De La Soul, Big Star, Iron & Wine, Uberzone, Happy Mondays, Dinosaur Jr, TV on the Radio, Elbow, Eagles of Death Metal, The Tears, Esthero, T. Rauschmiere, Cat Power, The New Pornographers, Carl Cox, Grandaddy, Calexico, Explosions in the Sky, The Wedding Present, Andy C, Fatlip, DJ Icey, The Notwist and Themselves preforming as 13 & God, Devendra Banhart, The Coral, Stateless, 65 Days of Static

See anything you like? Want to go with a bunch of indie-rockin' sailors? If you're suitable cool enough for our oh-so-emo crowd of hipsters, we'll be getting a house in Palm Springs again and are always looking for extra people to defray costs.

The picture below, by the way, is from the island of Lantau in Hong Kong. A long and dangerous bus ride awaits those who want to see the Po Lin Buddha in person, but it's well worth it. Smaller statues of Buddhist deities ring the larger statue, in various poses of praise and worship. The exhibits and temple are stunning. And you can collar the odd monk for pictures.

Sigh. I have to go buy some U2 CD's now, because I missed that bus back in the 80's. Oh childhood, what did I spend you on?

Po Lin Monastery and Giant Honking Buddha - Hong Kong

2005-12-15T13:08:00.000-08:00

Behold the Jesus Lion

2005-12-14T19:02:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes, I just saw Chronicles of Narnia. I went in wanting to enjoy it, wanting the book to transport me to a magical land that I discovered as a boy. Instead, I got a cut-rate Lord of the Rings. I dislike child actors, but if they're British and sufficently mouthy I can handle it...these kids gave off the emotion of a toaster. Seriously. And man, this movie was antiseptic. No blood, anywhere. The scene where Peter first kills a wolf: ludicrous. The CG was OK, as long as nothing complicated was called for, like moving. And Aslan looked two dimensional and sounded, well, weedy. It had it's moments, but it was nothing like the books for magic. And maybe that's the problem. Chronicles of Narnia was one of the first fantasy novels I ever read...actually, Dad read LTWATW to me as a youngling, and I picked the rest up from there. It formed the underpinnings of what became the structure of my fantastical mind It was the rulebook for how a story should go, how children should act in magical settings, and what actions reaped what rewards. It became a barometer for the mythic, and as such, I have a hard time now going back and reading the stories and understanding them as, well, stories. Now the magic has been whisked away, and replaced with a fairly pointless movie. I didn't want to KNOW what it looked like when a centaur fought a minotaur, and I didn't want to KNOW what the castle courtyard of the White Witch looked like (the inside of a taxidermists freezer). This isn't always a problem with movies based on books: I thought LOTR would work out the same way, but Peter Jackson's amazing vision, devotion, and some spectacular cinematography and CG brought a parallel vision. I can re-read the Tolkien books and not feel cheated because I've seen the movie, and I can watch the Peter Jackson movies and still feel awed. That is what a good director does. Sadly, The Chronicles of Narnia weren't that. Goblet of Fire was a better movie, and I don't even like Harry Potter very much. I don't think the inevitable sequels will be on my To Watch list. (Curious George though, IS...the animation looks absolutely beautiful. And Jack Johnson is doing the entire soundtrack).

Speaking of soundtracks, the Narnia music was god-awful. It wasn't a counterpoint, or a cue, or melodic backdrop for a film. It was a repetitive series of flute and symphony that sounded like John Williams, if John Williams was totally incompetent and didn't know a thematic element from a trumpet. Feh.

Oh, and I'm staying in San Diego for 18 more months. Thanks, Navy.