Missives from The Beige

B. Jones: Schadenfreude

2008-11-22T14:38:00.000-08:00

No, I can't let it go.

Mind you, I'm not as bitter as I was six months ago, but the animus I feel toward the OKC ownership group, and the commissioner of the NBA hasn't really let up. This, despite the fact that I can't stop participating in the overall product.

I've already seen a couple of games at the local, and my fantasy basketball team is called the "Fuck D. Stern." I doubt I'm alone in either that sentiment, or predicament.

(For the record, I am not ambivalent about the possibility of having Seattle get another team in the same manner they lost one. I am as against that idea as I am about getting a venereal disease. No, that analogy is not overblown. I don't blame the contingent in Seattle, or in any other city that wants a team, that would welcome such a move.

What I would love to see, however, is for cities who are being courted to host an NBA team to get a little bit of backbone, stand up and demand both results and loyalty from the bastards. If they want to be in your city so bad, then surely it is worth it for them to stay for 50 - 70 years, and to pony up 60% - 75% of any future expenditures in building costs. No ownership group would ever go for such a deal, but I say make things as difficult for them to get their way as possible.

I am reminded of this musical exchange in The Simpsons' monorail episode: "Were you sent here by the devil?" "No good sir, I'm on the level." Stern, as a charlatan, doesn't even rate comparisons to the original Music Man.)

Unsurprisingly, it hasn't been a complete month into the new NBA season, and the OKC Thunder organization is tanking so badly, I wouldn't be surprised if they started talking about relocation within seven years. After the karma police caught up to Aubrey McClendon (the man responsible for letting it be known that the ownership group had intended to move the storied Sonics franchise to OKC all along, and for saying that OKC wouldn't want the WNBA Seattle Storm's ostensibly lesbian fanbase in their city) by wiping him out at the stock market, yesterday it tapped on the shoulder of the man hired by the ownership klowns to ensure that Sonic fan interest in their team remained minimal.

Yes, PJ Carlesimo has been fired as head coach of the Thunder after a 1-12 start. So long, douchebag! Good luck getting another head coaching position!

Cheesefucks, all of them.

If Any Form Of Pleasure Is Exhibited

2008-11-19T01:21:00.000-08:00

Report to me and it will be prohibited!
I'll put my foot down! So shall it be!
This is the land of the free!
-- as sung by Groucho, during the opening musical number in Duck Soup

I was working on an upcoming entry for the political blog, and stumbled upon the fact that the zenith of Marx Bros. mad-cappery known as Duck Soup turns 75 during the month of November. (Weekend America's segment on this event embedded below.)

Must have a late viewing this weekend.

Politically Appropriate Pop Detritus

2008-09-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

- Season 1 of 24. The Plot: The nation's first black Presidential candidate gets stuck in some terrorist related hullaballoo, his life is threatened, his family life implodes. Through these cataclysmic events, his true character as a bad ass, ice in the veins, tough choice making muthafucka is revealed. He goes on to win the election.

- During these roller coaster days of political dadaism, I think back to a particular bit of Obama lore: The Setup: Hillary Clinton had been running some negative ads (which, in perspective, seem like child's play now), and Obama got to talking about it. I imagine he's doing a fair number of these in his head these days:

The Perils of a Deregulated Market - A Garish Reminder

2008-09-23T17:38:00.001-07:00

It's been nearly a century since the last time class conflict reared its head in the US in a major way. As a nation, though we still feel the psychological repercussions of The Great Depression, most don't remember the union busting activities of the era, the role that the Pinkerton agency played in all of that, and just how tumultuous a time it was for the country. Some would argue that it was the unfettered and open free market that led to both the Dickensian corporate practises of the times, as well as the violent repercussions.

It proved to be a necessary revolution, for out of these bloody times, there emerged the 5-day 40-hour work week, a minimum wage, and the strengthening of unions in the workplace.

Somewhere along the way those lessons were forgotten, however, leading to a frenzy of de-regulation that took place over the last 30 years, and enacted in order to create massive profits in the private sector. It should be noted that politicians on both sides ended up embracing de-regulation (though some more fervently than others). The end result is obvious; leaving aside the massive economic breakdown that we've been experiencing this year, the chasm between the upper and lower classes has probably not been wider since the beginning of the Industrial Age.

Perhaps someone should remind the proponents of the radical free market of the violent protests that could take place on our very shores should the chasm be allowed to grow wider still.

Frankly, we're already on the precipice, and it's only a matter of time before people stop lashing out at each other and pinpoint exactly where the source of most of their troubles lay.

Consider this a public service announcement.

If You're Not Watching Rachel Maddow...

2008-09-16T23:53:00.000-07:00

Look, I'm not going to force anything on you.

All I'm saying is if you were to go to MSNBC.com, found the MS-NBC tab, clicked on "The Rachel Maddow Show", played the selections "Drill, Dems, Drill?" and "Friendly Fire?", I would bet you'd be entertained in some way. You may end up hooked, maybe not.

Rep. Louise Slaughter (D)NY: I wanna tell you, I am so taken with algae. Did you know...How am I doing so far?
Maddow: Whoa-waitwait I do want to hear why you're taken with algae, that's the best lead in ever. But - hold on - [Ms. Maddow gets back to the point.]

Ms. Maddow is the face of your friendly neighborhood tough journalist.

All About Fletch

2008-09-11T11:45:00.000-07:00

I think it’d be fair to say that I was affected by Gregory McDonald, the man responsible giving the world Fletch, the barefoot reporter with cheek.

Yes, the same Fletch that inspired that mid-80s Chevy Chase movie (one of the few good movies he ever made) and its cheesy sequel. The quintessentially 80s synth soundtrack is now playing in my head, in fact.

Initially, I had no idea that the movie was based on anything until I saw the paperback at the PX and thought I’d give it a quick look.

I became hooked. McDonald wrote 11 Fletch books, and I’ve read each of them at least twice (with many of them having been read upwards of a dozen times). Same applies with the Flynn series of books, which are a spin off from Fletch. Of his other material, I’ve only read Merely Players, from his trilogy of Shakespeare inspired novellas. I will be rectifying that in the future.

McDonald’s pulp world consumed me. Without delving too heavily into the Dickensian aspect* of my life, I didn’t have a strong male presence to model after. In my mind, Fletch became that guy. Clearly, there’s something slightly off about doing this…

Mostly because Irwin Maurice Fletcher (aka – “Fletch”; “Earwig”) was the kind of breezy charismatic young man who’d have things fall his way more often than not. The forces against him occasionally got the upper hand; after a couple of quips though, Fletch would again wiggle out triumphant, and infinitely cooler than the competition, and usually on the way to hooking up with some smart, acerbic and ultimately comely young woman.

There is simply no way to emulate this kind of behavior in real life, not like I tried, but I did spend inordinate amounts of time wishing I lived in a light noir world where the ladies would be naturally attracted to me and my slightly daffy sense of humor. High school sucked.

As an adult, though, the world of Fletch and Flynn grew in scope for me. Still light and breezy, but the adult view of the world became clearer, and the romance I’d attached to that world when I was younger dissipated. It was only after growing up myself that I saw that the murders that surrounded Fletch often served as his cues to adapt to the world. This is particularly true in the case involving the Widow Bradley.

But what nailed the series for me is the story told in Fletch, Too. It is the last book McDonald wrote before giving his marquee character a son, and is also the book during which we see Fletch at his most exposed. In this story, Fletch goes to Africa in search of his long lost father…Whether he finds him or not isn’t important. Or at least it wasn’t for me. For me, the story’s resonance brought the character full circle, and I found myself identifying with Fletch more strongly than before.

Here was another bright young man who had learned to make do without a proper father figure to provide some kind of hint as to how to get along with life. You can’t buy that kind of identification, you either get it or you don’t. Fletch had it in spades, as far as I’m concerned.

Gregory McDonald passed away on Sunday, September 7th. No information on cause of death has been released; I'm willing to bet it was natural causes.

Thanks for the enjoyment and inspiration you brought to me, Mr. McDonald.

*Nod to S5 The Wire. I still get consumed by narratives, obviously. - TBO

B. Jones: THIS?!?

2008-09-11T11:05:00.001-07:00

You're a fucking multi-billionaire with a hair up your ass to put your podunk hometown on the NBA map. In typical robber baron fashion, you spend just the right amount of time and money lying your ass off to the populace whose team you intend to steal. After battling it out for who knows how long, after gaining a reputation as one of the world's biggest douchebags (second only to the comissioner whose ass you essentially dined from), you finally win, AND ALL YOU CAN COME UP WITH IS THIS PIDDLY ASS BULLSHIT?

You, sir, deserve all the bad breaks coming your way.

Shit heel.

Reasons to Love Mad Men #30

2008-09-09T01:03:00.000-07:00

From the AV Club recap to this week's episode:

In 1958 a young Jim Henson created a series of short, weirdly violent commercials for the Washington D.C. coffeemakers Wilkins Coffee, concepts which he revamped and sold to local coffee merchants in other markets, including Martinson in New York. Here’s some samples of the Wilkins campaign:

Entering The Polblog Fray

2008-09-04T18:08:00.000-07:00

So, I know things can get kind of random on this blog (if not downright arid), what with a sports entry following a pop culture entry following some deeply personal story following a recommendation to visit another site.

However, with the presidential campaign mere minutes from going full bore, I've decided it was a good idea to create a space for all of my political rants during the weeks ahead, and bring two like-minded peers along with me.

It's called The Savvy, The Extreme, & The Idealist, and the team of writers are me, Deni, and JJ. There may be more writers added to the slate as time goes by.

The idea is to supply a space for the newly politically aware to view a condensed menu of relevant news stories and articles, with both neutral and lefty commentary, and links to some featured items.

Think of it as a political Cliff's Notes.

It also provides a place for Deni, JJ and myself to vent our spleen away from our respective blogs.

Anyway, drop by, take a look, and for pete's sake, leave a comment.

TVDoaN: AVC, Hulu, Gina Torres, A Guilty Pleasure

2008-09-03T20:26:00.000-07:00

So, I've been staying out a lot more lately, in a show (which closes this weekend), and have been spending most of my off time over at the AVClub. Of which I am a junkie, through and through. PalBrannon has realdope.com, I have the AVClub. I seriously can't turn away from the fuggin' thing, the staff and community speak my language, and eerily seem to be aware of most every nook and cranny of my subconscious.

In the last month, they've finished reviewing the first two seasons of Buffy and Newsradio, have had a Woody Allen retrospective, done a feature on the Watchmen comic book, as well as weekly reviews of all things pop cultural. It's like freebasing all things geekly on a daily basis. Who needs work productivity?

It is through the AVClub that I discovered the joys of Hulu. Not that I hadn't heard of it before, but I truly didn't know the utter joy of the damned site until I was bored, between Netflix arrivals and looking at a recap of Mad Men, when someone mentions that it's possible to view episodes on the service...free.

Highly doubtful, I went over to check it out, and lo and behold: Current episodes of the Daily Show and Colbert Report; nearly full seasons of Newsradio, Heroes, 30 Rock; some Barney Miller, full seasons of Arrested Development, along with other cultural detritus like Love Boat and Fantasy Island...Egads, it has Gorgeous Tiny Chicken Machine Show (I'll explain the significance later, if I can remember it). And, yes, even, one of my favorite bits of brainless, worthless TV.

Most people became aware of Gina Torres as the Firefly phenomenon crawled across the nation; they then recognized her from Matrix: Resomething as the girlfriend of that guy who did things (she's married to Laurence "New CSI Guy" Fishburne, btw). Before that, she did a smattering of things, though a legion of assorted dorks and lesbians met her as either Nebula or Cleopatra in the Sam Raimi produced Hercules and Xen universes, respectively.

After Xena was cancelled, the Raimi team decided to take the budget of a typical Xena/Hercules episode (never all that high to begin with), split it in half and run two shows for the price of one: Jack of All Trades and Cleopatra 2525. How to describe these shows in a way not covered by Wikipedia...Think ElectraWoman and Dynagirl or Dr. Shrinker, with a tongue in cheek, more CGI and a hell of a lot more cheesecake.

I mean, check out the lyrics to C2525's theme song:

In the year 2525
There are women with the will to survive
Fighting for a brand new day
Nothing's going to get in their way

Hey, it's low budget feminist pulp! Why the fuck not? And the first act goes on to deliver on that premise, with Gina Torres and Victoria Pratt playing 26th century scantily clad Xenas who shoot some kind of loud plasma something out of their bracelet-weapons. They fight flying robots called Baileys.

So far, so dumb, but it's not like Xena was The Closer or anything.

Then you meet the titular character (pun pretty much inadvertently intended), Jennifer Sky plays an aspiring actress from the 21st century who, for unexplained reasons, is not woken up from an anesthetized slumber. She went under for a boob job, you see. She wakes up in the 26th century, and her first impulse is to look under her form-fitting top and mutter "good work."

It isn't long before she's aping Dirty Harry and screaming her fool head off. Good lord does she scream. Then you realize that Cleo is actually a pretty vapid heroine, sex- and looks-obsessed, and besides obviously synced mimicry as a "talent," doesn't really bring anything to the action portion of the program.

For a few episodes at least, then she starts kicking ass like Torres and Pratt. How the "plot" develops from there I'll leave for you to pick up. Odds are likely that this show is the reason why Torres initially passed on Firefly; she's quoted as saying that she had no interest in doing some cheesy sci-fi thing until she read Joss Whedon's script.

Yet, for all of that, I can't say that I don't enjoy C2525's no-brain appeal. It isn't just the cheesecake alone (though I'm sure plenty will accuse me of just that). There's just something about the show that clicks for me in the same way Blossom and Fresh Prince did when I had nothing better to do.

Maybe it's the fact that the bimbo hero gets elevated to bad ass status as the show goes on...a sort of feminist subversion masquerading as 14-year-old male fantasy (making boys comfortable with strong women by objectifying them). Which is all well and good, but the show is so dumb that it nearly makes this line of thinking ludicrous, especially when it seems that this is far more thinking than what the creators put into producing the show.

Ah well, who cares? I enjoy it.

[/dork stream of consciousness]

No, You're Not On Drugs

2008-08-26T12:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, some advertising genius let a furry come up with this ad for Orangina.

No, they will not foot any future therapy bills, and any nightmares you may have are entirely your own.

Plugging Someone Else, For A Change

2008-08-01T15:23:00.000-07:00

PalPatrick reports that he went to a couple of days of last weekend's San Diego Comic Con and was asked by the local PBS station to liveblog the event.

Go check it out, comic book geeks!

Michael Atkinson, Member AARP

2008-07-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

Crap like this really does chafe.

I mean, someone get the guy some metamucil!

SEVERAL bits of opinion and obvious grand standing that I, needless to say, disagree with. Not just beginning with the whole "I used to dig comic books when I was a kid then outgrew them" bit of exposition.

For one thing, he neglects to mention when exactly he outgrew comic books. The reason this is important is that the bloody things matured, the storytelling grew more complex, and, particularly with the Batman, got more harrowing as time went on. From his text, it sounds like he stopped reading right after the comics code went into effect and every single damn title in the world became precursors to the uber-campy crap that was dominant in the 60s and 70s. (exceptions for smart, if still simplistic, fare like Stan Lee's X-Men, which addressed the King v. X approaches to civil rights in a way that prepubescent and largely white kids could understand without explicitly telling them that this was what was going on.)

For another, damning adults who actually liked either Iron Man or the current Batman movie as people in arrested development...talk about insulting. Sure, he spends some time talking about how his problem with The Dark Knight is more about the lack of storytelling acumen (from the director that made Memento understandable) and the lack of human touches in his story. But reading it, the real thrust of his complaint is in the final paragraph, where he bemoans the 'infantilization of the mass populace.'

V for Vendetta? A movie that endorses anarchy against Big Brother type thinking? Yeah, that's pretty child-like.

Besides, in an era where they are talking about remaking Robocop, Nightmare on Elm Street, an impending remake of Death Race 2000, and god knows what other pap between this summer and next, comic books have become a last resource of original and smart entertainment.

Really, his rant is more of an Intellectualism v. Sensationalism in Cinema kind of thing, and while I love and worship Kubrick, sometimes there needs to be a little Ken Russell in the mix.

In other words, bullshit, Mr. Atkinson.

14/48 Event Blogging: 95% Complete

2008-07-29T11:30:00.000-07:00

It was another exhausting weekend of 14/48, with plenty of madcap japery and harrowing misadventures to last me another six months.

I feel pretty happy with the work I've done so far.

If you want to take a look at what all transpired, go here, and continue moving to newer posts to get the whole story.

Blogging Re-Direct

2008-07-25T12:33:00.000-07:00

Blogging productions here at the Missives will trickle down to a complete stop, making it entirely indistinguishable from what's going on here the rest of the time anyway. The reason for this announcement, however, is that I will be blogging the 14/48 experience this weekend.

Check out the goings-on at 14/48's Blog Site.

This will either jump-start a blogging frenzy over here, or, not really change the production schedule at all. We'll see.

Ever Have One Of Those Days...

2008-07-16T00:17:00.000-07:00

...where you wonder "just how much of an asshole am I?"

I mean, I know I'm an asshole, but am I a raging douchebag or a serious fucktwit?

Tomorrow's another day.

B. Jones: Schmall Star Game

2008-07-08T23:22:00.000-07:00

I gotta say, of all the worthless sports related spectacles, the all star game of whatever sport has got to be the nadir.

Occasionally you get a good game, but usually, not worth the time. The NFL at least has the decency to hold theirs the week after the Super Bowl.

Should the players have a break? Yeah, why not?

Actually, the last time there was a good baseball all star game, the commish put the kibosh on the game because it went 400 innings. Really. Wiki that shit.

This is an attempt to not think about the NBA, but typing the word 'commish' a few sentences ago made me think of strangling Stern again, so that ended that.

Signing off now.

B. Jones: Deal With It

2008-07-02T22:49:00.000-07:00

Of all the chickenshit...
---
I was ten years old when I moved to the US, and already, I was a basketball freak.

One day, my Uncle Jesus sat me down and said, "listen, you wanna be like an American? You have to like football." Is that like futbol? "No, it's different...Look, I'll take you to a game. But for right now, if anyone asks? You say you like the Broncos, okay?" Okay.

At some point after that, he gave me the sports section. "Look through there, find a team you wanna root for." Do I have to like football? What about basketball? "Do you want Americans to like you? Yes, you have to like football, but basketball's okay too. You can find a basketball team to like, too, okay?" Okay!

Thus it was that I came to like the Buccaneers (they have a pirate on their helmet!) and the Supersonics.

I saw the team name and asked him what that meant. "It's when something goes so fast, they go faster than the speed of sound." Woooooow*.

The year was 1980.
---

I think I've been betrayed by this city for the last time. Maybe not, but I'm seriously thinking about it.

I've been through a lot since '92. Some great ups and some truly shitty downs. Last time I felt this pissed off about the place was when the city council put the monorail on the ballot for the fifth time, and the populace voted against it.

Now this (J.A. Adande's commentary on the news). Last time I seriously talked about this business, I asked Seattle if it really wanted to be the first city to let carpetbaggers come to town and willingly let them take a pro franchise away.**

Apparently, the city's answer is 'yes.'
---

Seattle's last three mayors and their highlights:

1) Norm Rice, shady downtown real estate dealings kept him from a Clinton era HUD seat.

2) Paul Schell, got hit by angry SPD victim; WTO riots; Mardi Gras '01 and SPD Chief Norm Stamper.

3) Greg Nickels, monorail fracas, city business shill, explaining the Sonics fiasco.
---

Adande mentions in the essay linked above that city governance couldn't stop this from happening, and he's right. However, there's been more than a fair amount of finger waggling at current mayor Greg Nickels. And rightfully so.

With a couple of exceptions (and I do include the generally sane, yet regrettably anti-Sonic Nick Licata on that list), the bulk of the city council are douchebags. Governor Gregoire is a douchebag. However, Nickels is the biggest douchebag of them all.

The other politicians are guilty of not giving a shit about all this until it was too late. However, here they had the past on their sides. Somehow, some way, when pro sports made demands in the past, they would get their way and Seattle kept the team. Arrogant thinking, but, let's face it, 7 times out of 10, US cities give in to demands, the pro franchise is momentarily sated, and the cities get to keep the teams. It's an understandable stance.

Nickels, while still guilty of the above, talked a mother fucking game to the fans once he did show up. Gonna take 'em to court, enforce the lease. Hire Slade Gordon (who strong armed MLB for an expansion team back in the 70s), see what he can do. If we're victorious, then we'll see about fixing the arena and finding local buyers. (All things that could've been done years ago, but, must focus.)

They go to fucking court. They actually have a case, and even if shit goes bad, all they really had to do was whisper 'anti-trust' in David Stern's ear, and then we'd see what's what. They finish the fucking case. Not seamlessly, but the case is strong, and actually has a good chance of winning. (Look, I'm an idealist/romantic, let me have my delusions.)

This is when we find out that city hall has been in negotiations with the Carpet Bagger ownership for at least a month. Not only that, but city hall agrees, on the day the judgment on the case was to come out, to settle out of court for $45m, with an additional $30m on the condition that Seattle doesn't have an NBA team in five years (which, in turn, is on the condition that Seattle has renovated Key Arena for the second time in less than 20 years. In other words, don't count on that $30m). The city went from standing up for everything that was right, logical and honorable in a city's fight agains pro teams, to capitulating to every single thing that was wrong about the NBA's/Carpet Baggers' stance, for fucking eight figures.

Nickels then has the balls to hold a goddamn press release, with the Carpet Baggers in question, and talks about all of this as if it's great news all around. In short order, he's talking about "being able to keep the name, colors and history," and not wanting to have "bad relations with the NBA," after two years of forced occupancy. Not only that, but he leads an attempt for the other lawsuit still pending (aka - Howard Schulz's Operation: 2 Little 2 Late Part 2) to be withdrawn.

Fuck that. Fuck you, Nickels. You had the chance to follow through for the populace, actually succeed, and you fucked it up. Again.

Fuck. You. Greg 'Cheese Dick' Nickels.

Of all the goddamn chickenshit...
---

I could go on forever, and have. I will end on two lists:

Sonics Bad Moves, As I See Them (subject to chronological discrepancies):

1) Wally Walker marries Barry Ackerley's daughter, Walker becomes part of front office
2) Sonics fire Bob Whitsitt
3) Sonics snub Shawn Kemp (long story) and pay draftee Frank Brickowski a) far more money than he's worth and b) a hell of a lot more than Kemp. (Kemp then helps Sonics to NBA Finals, while simultaneously beginning a cycle of bad public inebriation)
4) Having not apologized for the snub, Sonics then lowball Kemp in the off season. Kemp leaves.
5) Wally Walker given more responsibilities within the organization
6) Sonics fire George Karl (eventually correcting their course by hiring Karl protege, Nate McMillan to the coach's position a couple of years down the road)
7) Sonics sell to Howard Schulz
8) Sonics trade away Gary Payton. A) Good for him, he has a ring now, another pattern established, and B) Secret upside: Ray Allen.
9) Sonics "fail to secure" McMillan. A) Good for him, he was hired by area rival the Portland Blazers, which will soon be a force to be reckoned with, and B) he avoids dealing with the bullshit to follow.
10) Schulz and Walker conspire to sell the team and settle on Oklahoma City Carpet Baggers Clay Bennet and Douchebag Co.
11) In order to further alienate fans, OKCarpet Baggers (great team name, guys!) trade away Allen, and Rashard Lewis. Good for them, Allen now has a ring, Lewis is with up and coming Orlando Magic.
---

Sonics Jerseys I Want To Own:

20 Payton
33 Hawkins
14 Perkins
10 McMillan
25 Wingate
40 Kemp
7 Lewis
31 Barry
24 Mason
13 Snow
50 Johnson
17 Askew
8 Johnson
21 Fortson
34 Cummings
34 Allen

Yeah, all post '92, fucking sue me. May add more as more come to me. There are a number of WTF? type of names in there, I admit (Eddie and Ervin Johnson, David Wingate). This is a sentimental list. I'll add that I would've loved to have been between Kevin Calabro and Marques Johnson during any of the games they announced.

I now attempt to start calming down.

--tbo

*Even kids speaking Spanish say 'wow.'

**At the time, some local voices were saying "let the Sonics move, I don't care!" pretty loudly, you see. By and large, these were voices of people who were not basketball, or sports, fans.

This Tore My Heart Out

2008-07-02T14:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks, Enjoy The Enjoyment, for sharing.

The Face of Armageddon

2008-06-30T13:00:00.000-07:00

There I sat, unknowing, uncaring, inappropriately excited for the latest batch of Pixar generated heartness, as a cold dread snuck up on me. "Bah, 'tis merely the air conditioning," I thought, "at worst, it is the signaled end of the theater chain's pre-canned commercial programming for children heralding the showing of Wall-E I am attending."

Thus was the unnerving intuition I felt couched, and it was with alarming alacrity that I ignored my better instincts on the matter. For, had I been paying attention, I surely would've left the theater in search of refreshments when the following transpired:

It all starts innocently enough: exotic footage of ancient Mayan ruins, a vaguely Mexican accented voice over, the Disney logo. "Ah, a Disney documentary about Mayans, with a slightly humorous bent. I won't see it, but, this sure looks harmless enough."

And then, there came upon my eyes, a visage so horrifying as to nearly escape description...Nearly. For you see this beast has a name, and that name is A Talking Chihuahua.

Not just a talking chihuahua, it insinuates, it winks...it sings. It has friends that do choreography while they're singing...I doubt the creators of Reggaeton had this in mind when they crafted the aggressively tempoed melange of music they created. Dear god, you can't escape it. You can't stop hearing the song.

Combined with those eyes, those eerily rat like eyes, staring at you. Staring, never blinking, and where do they keep coming from?

OH GOD THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM WITH THE SINGING AND THE STARING AND THE WINKING AND THE LOOKING RIGHT AT YOU NEVER STOPPING THE BUSBY BERKELEY CIRCLES AND THE SONG IT NEVER ENDS IT JUST GOES ON AND ON AND ON AND ON MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!!!

B. Jones: Bullshit

2008-04-18T18:30:00.000-07:00

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

And just because the outcome was known two years ago, doesn't make it less bullshit, it only makes it predictable bullshit.

So, we can add David Stern to the list of people on the list, alongside Barry Ackerman, Wally Walker, Bob Weiss, Howard Schulz (who may be removed pending court decisions), and Clay Bennett.

"wahwah, we're prepared to stay in Seattle, but we're looking at $30 million losses because they refuse to update their arena wahwah."

You know what, douchebag? When the Arena went in for renovations back in the 90s (a mere 12 years ago, a blink of an eye in terms of arena-aging), it was renovated to be what was considered state of the art at the time. How the fuck was the city to know that "state of the art" would be obsolete less than six months after renovations were complete?

Fucking A, that's less time than it took for my iPod to be obsolete, and that's saying something.

But you know who could've said something about that at the time? You, douchebag, that's who. But you kept mum, probably knowing that doing so would make it easier for your "poor" owner group to demand upgrades to arenas nationwide.

And so now, you're all uppity about the fact that Seattle has been saying no to your fucking renovations*, and you're making it so that your owners could throw hissyfits when they don't get these demands met. For fuck's sake, the renovations weren't even a decade old when Schulz started his end of the bullshit, the city was still paying it off, how do you expect the City to reply?

My suggestions to cities, make sure you have a clause that says that whatever major sports entity you're building a new stadium/arena for has to wait at least 30 years before demanding another renovation, barring safety concerns.

All is not shitting rain over here, though. The city, season ticket holders and Schulz himself are suing the Bennett team and the NBA over this bullshit. My personal hope is that Schulz decides to go anti-trust on the fuckers.

Slim hopes, but that's all we've got now.

Oh, for those who don't care, I know. STFU.

*There's been movement in caving in to the demands, thanks to this bullshit.

Politically Linked

2008-03-15T14:32:00.000-07:00

It has been a week...hell, a month, on so many fronts, that I am just going to talk about the one thing that vexes me the least. Which is not to say that the topic doesn't get me riled, but it's one that I can address at least somewhat objectively...

So, let's start out with something easy: Geraldine Ferraro. What in the hell was going on here? I can go along with the story that she wasn't trying to be racist, and that she was comparing him to herself about 20 years ago, but even then...The fact that she refuses to see how her remarks damn her just paints her as even more ignorant than before...I am reminded of a conversation here about how hating Israel's policies in the Middle East could be construed as anti-semitic (for the record, I was the one in Ferraro's shoes, if the two could be compared). Joe Conason does a good job of parsing out how Ferraro's comparison is also off-base.

Then there is the matter of how Clinton's feeble attempts at denouncing Ferraro's statements paints her complicit in all of this. Combined with the vaguely, borderline racists stances her campaign has adopted in recent months...well. I want to like her, but there's a lot about what she has been doing (starting with her refusal to leave the stage this late in the game. The time to fight was when things were not going her way, which would've been around the time of Iowa's primary. Could you imagine how Obama would be perceived had the shoes been reversed?), particularly the Rove-esque kitchen sink approach to the campaign (see the oft-referred to "3 a.m." ad) that is leaving a truly unpleasant taste in my mouth.

So, you can imagine how relieved I felt that Keith Olbermann, someone who comes across as passionate as I can on these matters, even if he is a kajillion times more eloquent than I am, decided to reply to all of this, in the form of an impassioned plea. Thanks, Keith.

Which leads me to the next possible tactic to be used against Obama, likely by McCain, if Obama ends up being the Democratic nominee: Reverend Jeremiah Wright. (Click on the link for an ABC News feature on the Reverend.) Why? Because the reverend has the audacity to say that the US Government is influenced by the KKK; also that terrorist attacks on US soil is the result of the abuse our government has heaped on third world countries the globe over. Whether you agree with these sentiments or not (and I've been saying that latter assertion as my own for 'lo these many years); how is this worse than blaming Katrina on pro-choicers? Blaming AIDS on homosexuals? Blaming 9/11 on both of those elements, and a general sinful society "running rampant in NYC?" In a sense I do hope they bring it up, time to expose some hypocrisy up in this bitch.

But our democracy is an odd beast, particularly during election time. Truth is, we're not that far removed from the tactics favored a century ago. We're maybe two steps removed from the graft and shady methods used at Tammany Hall. For proof, look no further than Street Fight, a hell of a documentary about the mayoral race in Newark back in '02. Not only does it expose our nation's politics for what they are, and shows how the system could be, and is, abused; it also serves as a corollary to our current presidential race, AND provides a very hopeful note at the end of it all. Highly recommended viewing.

And so, I'll finish on a light note: Spitzer's very cute folly (another scenario where I wish I was French, instead of dealing with priggish hypocrites...like Spitzer himself), led to the happy promotion of Lt. Gov. David Paterson, making him the first African-American and legally blind governor of New York. As if that weren't enough, the man has a sense of humor. When asked by a reporter whether he ever had sex with a prostitute, Paterson replied, "only the lobbyists."

This is still cracking me up.

In Which The Blogger Pretends It Hasn't Been That Long

2008-02-21T15:44:00.000-08:00

Right, so...Hello.

Anyway, I've been spending time recently putting the finishing touches on an edit of the Noir piece mentioned over there on the right (I've been calling it the "no fat" edit, due to the fact that it is now bare-boned...I have the pieces in place, and now I can add layers making it stronger)...I feel pretty good about it, though I'm dying for more feedback (why, yes, that was a hint, people from whom I asked for feedback!), though that which I have received thus far has been pretty helpful.

That, and I'm piecing together material for the new solo, which was inspired by my ruminations on my trip back to PR a number of years ago.

So that has taken up some time.

Also, I am once again roommate free! So, more time has been used up moving things around, cleaning like a charwoman, and enjoying the space with the K. Oh, the former roommate was unable to take both of her cats with her, so I adopted that guy, and now the K has a buddy. He's taking his usual time warming up to her.

Other than that, it's been pretty normal, to the point of participating in a wonk-off session with PalJJ and PalHound over Mike Daisey's latest theatrical endeavor (click on that link, and scroll down for a very small response to the hoopla. If you reach naked redheaded twins with leaves over their privates, you've scrolled too far).

It's interesting what the phenomenon created by Daisey's fluff essay in the Stranger has wrought: People pro and con of what he said going on and on...in Seattlest, and the Theater Puget Sound board, actually talking about what does and doesn't work in the regional theater model. Particularly from people who haven't actually seen the show in question.

I have my thoughts, but after the previously mentioned wonk-off, I just ain't gonna get into it here. Just noting my fascination with it all. Wondering what effect, if any, it will have once the NYC run begins.

Anyway, that's the essence of life lately. Oh, yeah: Here's my new favorite comic strip for the next few weeks: Tom the Dancing Bug.

And hey, you want a semi-regularly written blog that both entertains and makes you laugh? You could do far worse than the oft-pimped-on-these-pages PalJoe's blog. Motherfucker even has a podcast now, The Conversation with Bob Felcher and Karl Baloneypants. With a name like that, you know you can expect klass.

I'm Gettin' Nuttin' For Solstice

2007-12-22T15:26:00.000-08:00

Nah, nothing that dramatic...Afact, a very mellow affair.

Sibs are hilarious, Mom is a trip. Nothing new.

Rosie Perez's Yo Soy Boricua... is an enjoyable little marvel.

Not sure if I'll be around much this weekend, but if not, hope your holidays, in whatever form they take, are as enjoyable as possible.

-tbo

Separation of Church & State

2007-12-19T23:45:00.000-08:00

Fuggin' Evangelicals...I was going to say Xtians, or Christians, but then I'd get PalJJ all up in my face because I'm damning all Christians in this manner.

I'm going to address this further, but first, read this for some context.

For the click-averse, essentially this is an essay found on HuffingtonPost.com, talking about the recent bill that passed the House of Representatives, to the tune of 372 - 9, that will recognize "the importance of Christmas and the Christian Faith." (The bill's wording, not mine.)

Before going further, let me state that yes, I am primarily pissed off at the politicians for allowing this travesty to pass. Even then, this is the sort of thing I have come to expect from the Republicans; Democrats, on the other hand...well, I know there are more than 9 of them in there, and I would expect to be able to count more Democrats than I have digits on my hands to stand up against this.

So, yeah, I'm pissed at the selling out of the foundation this country was based on for some fuggin' voting bloc, that will likely turn against the Dems come election time.

But what about the other half of this equation? The half of this entry that will likely set PalJJ, possibly PalLyam, maybe PalDeni, and myself to go through page after scrollable page spewing hot air over.

PalJJ's stance, in essence, is that he doesn't like it when one member of a religious organization points fingers at members of another religious organization and cries "foul."

"When people share what their Truth is, I am engaged," he says, "when people point out what is NOT Truth in others' beliefs, that's when they lose me."

He says this to me, a lot, because I am an outspoken Buddhist (member SGI-USA, a layman organisation that espouses the Buddhist practice established by Nichiren Daishonin, c.1200's) with a tendency to heavily criticize things I see done in the name of Christianity in this country (as well as heavily criticize Christianity in general, but that's a different matter today.)

And, during my more sedate periods, I can dig where he's coming from. But then things like this happen. And the thing is, I'm crying foul, not as a Buddhist, but as a fuggin' citizen of this country. This is a group of people trampling all over my opinions and beliefs, why?

Do I not have the right to call these fuckers out, regardless of their religious orientation? And what am I to call these fuckers?

Sure, "Evangelicals" is accurate, but is that what they call themselves?

"That the House of Representatives --

(1) recognizes the Christian faith as one of the great religions of the world;

(2) expresses continued support for Christians in the United States and worldwide;

(3) acknowledges the international religious and historical importance of Christmas and the Christian faith;

(4) acknowledges and supports the role played by Christians and Christianity in the founding of the United States and in the formation of the western civilization;

(5) rejects bigotry and persecution directed against Christians, both in the United States and worldwide; and

(6) expresses its deepest respect to American Christians and Christians throughout the world."

I'll let y'all figure out the political implications of the above segment, but please notice the capital "c" word that is sprinkled like jimmies on a donut in this piece of legislation. It ain't cocksmoker.

Who identifies as fervently Pro-Life? Who's against gay marriage? Against porn? Against the legalization of marijuana? Against teaching evolution in schools? Against the separation of church and state?

It ain't cello players.

Look, have I met Christians I can hold a reasonable conversation with, one whose view on life comes close enough to mine that we could get along? Yes, I have. I can't say the same about Evangelicals, but I'm not going to rule out the possibility.

But here's the thing, that is talking about a one-on-one connection. As a collective? Evangelicals, who identify themselves as simply Christian, are fucking with me and mine, and, as a rule, I never sit quietly about that shit.

Now, I head to Denver for the holidays with family.

The Solstice Is The Reason For The Season! Merry Solstice, Bitches!

What The World Needs Now Is Hate

2007-12-11T19:40:00.000-08:00

Pardon me if you've already seen this clip. For those of you who do not regularly visit Warren Ellis' site (the graphic novelist, not the cult violinist), please take a gander at the following: Spoonful of Sugar

[It is recommended that you try to stick with it to the end; but I can't necessarily blame you for just wanting to jump ship early. So here's what you do: After the first chorus, you could either see what other BS they get to (nothing like accusing homos that they eat their children, created in some satanistic ritual or something), or pause the song, wait until it's done loading, and skip to about the 4:50 mark.]

Where do I start? Do I start with the statement that I once performed with a sketch group called The 13th Step (sketch for/by drunks) that did its own parody of "We Are The World" called "We Can't Do Porn" that was about as Xtian as this musical Chick tract? Add to this the dissonance of the perpetrators of the "porn" song when combined with the "xtian" adjective.

Do I marvel at the ingenious come hither ploy they attempt to attract new converts with? "God hates everyone but us, so, quit whatever you're doing and be saved."

Do I say that this is another obstacle in PalJJ's (amidst other like-minded individuals) noble desire to reclaim the word "God" from its current adherents?

How about we don't and say I did?

[Tip o' the keyboard to PalBrannon.--tbo]

Sometimes...

2007-12-08T17:07:00.000-08:00

You just need to be away for a month, you know?

A month in which to live, start new lifecycles, finish some projects, host family members...That crazy thing called life, in other words...

So, yeah, I've been gone. Not as long as some, but longer than others, and I've got a thirst...I need to yammer incoherently, I need to rant pointlessly at the wrongs of our current administration, I need to flirt subversively.

Besides, only 39 more posts until I reach 300.

I'll be back. Sooner rather than later this time.

Promise.

TAR 12: A Primer

2007-10-27T14:20:00.000-07:00

For those who don't know, I have seen every single season (or race) of The Amazing Race. The next race will be going on the air next Sunday, November 4th, and the only reservation I have is that, because it's being used as a mid-season replacement (who really expected Viva Laughlin to last all that long? Is coke back in vogue at CBS Headquarters?), we will likely not have another season this year. Thanks executive weasels!

By this point, I think I can at least read how some things are going to go, based on the casting. Below are my impressions; the link on the team name leads to CBS's bio of that team.

Before I get to the teams, though, a brief note on the rule changes they've implemented: So long, non-elimination! I don't mind at all, as it raises the stakes on the race. Now, if only they would get rid of the Yield, and re-implement a Fast Forward every leg, or come up with something equally challenging, I'd be a very happy lad.

Okay, here goes:

Kynt/Vyxsin - This team has the potential to go anywhere, like losing early on, or secret underdogs. The crack on CBS's bio about the biggest challenge for them is being able to keep the make up on came off as patronizing, but thinking of teams in the past, I wouldn't be too surprised if they cast these two knowing they would be so presumptuous. I hope not. I got nothing against goths, but goths so into the scene (and their names seem to suggest such might be the case) that they get stuck in the "we hate the norms" mentality...I really hope this won't be the case here. I find goths more attractive when they're not always looking like a Siouxsie video (making those times when they do even more titillating).

Seriously, how about those names? Oh, and since when do goths wear the Nike swoosh? So, now they're either cool goths, hardcore goths, or hardcore goth poseurs? Not liking those odds.

Jen/Nathan - These guys feel like a superficial attempt to repeat the success they had with Kris/Jon, except they've got some major red flags going against them: Have broken up repeatedly in the last two years; soulmate/drive-me-crazy dichotomy; organized/not; "dominant personalities"; "put their relationship to the test" (hasn't anyone noticed that this is really not the best of ideas for this show?)...They could dodge all the traps in their way and be kickass; or they could really get on my nerves.

Ronald/Christina - Oh damn it, they're so cute! He's so old! She's so young! They're so gone!

Shana/Jennifer - I got no read on these guys. I'll wait until next week to start making assumptions. They could be like the Pinks, they could be like the Beauty Queens. I'm hoping for BQ, but fearing the Pinks.

Azaria/Hendekea - How about those names? (I'm an equal opportunity name judger.) Okay, here's my thing. They've had black teams win before, the rest of the black teams could be lumped into TAR's Black Family (literally...Thanks Family Edition for that hilarious/horrible inclusion). Just once I'd like to see one of the younger set of ethnic minorities go pretty far, play smart (unlike Erwin and Derwin), and maybe win this thing. These guys look the part, but could they follow through? I wonder which of their parents is currently a Huff fan.

Lorena/Jason - Ugh. "figure out if their relationshipblahblahblah" "volatileblahblahblah" "jealousblahblahblah" "plays/travels/exercises/fights together." Jesus...it'd help if these guys were funny, though that's never something shared in the bio, so...see Jen/Nathan. Not sure what to make of the hat and squint.

Nicolas/Donald - aka "Grandfather/Grandson" aka "Sunrise/Sunset". Check out the brains on Nicolas! Age dichotomy doesn't increase their odds, so my cold call on them is to be out earlier than Ronald/Christina...I don't know. Could be cute and endearing, but that's depending on Donald's grump factor.

Ari/Staella - "I love that instead of saying that Ari is gay, the website describes him as 'catty.' Subtle." --G, at the TAR-focused online community I subscribe to.

These two look fun, and some good details on how they are now. I'm hoping her family volunteered to adopt him, which would be extremely cool. And then I read: "possibly ruffle some feathers." Is that really necessary? If so, it better be for good reason, and not just for the sake of feather rustling.

Marianna/Julia - They name-check the hippies! Let's hope they're more sincere! (Don't get me started on the hippies, who were just fine as racers, but...moving on:) I really like this team on paper. One of the sisters looks like a mini-Tia Carrere, which could be distracting for some (ahem). I don't have any real reservations about them, except for the Team Hippie worship and the whole "flirting their way to get ahead." They could be the real BQ-substitutes of this race...

Rachel/TK - ...while these guys could be the real Kris/Jon subs. Great vibe I'm getting from the pic/bio combo, which would make them the third team I am prematurely rooting for. Though, looking at TK, you start hoping that when they go through the Far Eastern portion of the race, that there will be a head-shaving Fast Forward again.

Kate/Pat - Married Lesbian Episcopal Ministers. They could've been Bowling Moms II, but instead they are Married Lesbian Episcopal Ministers. I'd be truly surprised if they made it beyond the point the Bowling Moms did though.

My three going into the race: Azaria/Hendekea, Marianna/Julia, Rachel/TK.

Now to wait a week. If I may, I would recommend The Race. It's a mini-TAR, created by a bunch of students at Ithaca College, and follows six teams of two as they race across the state of New York. It's uncanny just how well it echoes the TAR experience, with its own devilish versions of typical TAR challenges. Not a bad fix...

I Know It's Been A While

2007-10-25T20:39:00.000-07:00

...and this should hardly count as a post. However, I ran across this comment earlier tonight (context), and felt the need to generally share:

"Everybody wants to be the mouth. I, too, enjoy being the mouth. Everybody thinks the mouth is Batman and the ears are Robin. The ears are absolutely Batman. The mouth usually isn't even Robin. It's closer to Scooby Doo, really." --Tina R.

This Day In History...

2007-10-12T03:24:00.000-07:00

This blog turns 3 years old. PalJoe is now as old as I am. Wish him a happy birthday, will ya?

Saaaaaalute!

"I've been around the sun 37 times and all I got was this lousy T-shirt."

You Don't Like It When I'm Trenchant, I Know

2007-10-08T19:48:00.000-07:00

"It just seems like you're writing things you think 'should' be written on a blog," she said. I hadn't seen her in a while, and because it is always lovely to see her, share the warmth for each other, and she's rather easy on the eyes (yow), I didn't reply with what I thought, and moved on to less heated territory...Besides, I had to leave the V soon, and didn't want to leave with a bad taste in my/our mouth/s.

That isn't it, however. Not by a long shot. What fuels the seemingly increasing rants is a genuine alarm for the things I see happening in our society on a day to day basis, and if I don't vent it here, it would decrease my ability to set it aside in person at moments like the one described above.

Besides, even by foisting it on friends who would rather have me babbling incoherently about, I don't know, the various incarnations of The Tick (Ben Edlund deserves a hell of a lot more widespread credit), I hope that the rants serve as a means of increasing awareness. Not all of my friends read Salon, not all of my friends watch Sunday morning punditry, not all of my friends watch even the faux-news of The Daily Show, even if it is both more entertaining and educational than standard news.

And you know? These are things that I think are awareness-worthy.

For example, I was initially coming in here to kvetch about the impending birthday, and how old it is that I'm feeling leading up to it when a friend sends me the link to a firey op-ed piece in the Huffington Post regarding the US government's switch from The War in Iraq to The War in Iran, and how the Democrats have now backpedaled to the point where we'll be carrying Bush's agenda well into the next decade (seemingly learning nothing from Vietnam), then I read in Salon about how there might be enough Bush-enabling-Democrats to actually give the Shrub both amnesty and increased power on the matter of illegal wiretapping, and suddenly, the feeling of safety gained after last November's election cycle seems all the more illusory.

Add to this the fact that Coulter yearns to abolish Women's Right to Vote; Limbaugh's smearing of wounded vets, followed by his whingeing about being "misrepresented;" and O'Reilly's "discovery" that there are cultured niggras out there...It's a wonder I'm not more like palDeni, really. I wish I had the ability to crack wise the way that (fellow old fuck) palJoe does...

And if I'm able to make some stranger out there, or some friend, think on this crap for just a moment...If I'm able to preempt the inevitable "I wonder what Jamie Somers is up to" thought for a single second. If I'm able to create just the smallest sense of outrage in someone not predisposed to do that; well then, I have succeeded.

Next: I Feel Really Really Old

My Talk With God

2007-09-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

TBO:
hey god

God:
Hello child. What's your name?

TBO:
Beige

God:
Glad to see you, Beige.

TBO:
good seeing you too, man

God:
Thanks for the compliment. That is a very original thought.

TBO:
what compliment?

God:
I thought you made a nice remark.

TBO:
well, I try, you know

God:
Interesting. I'm not sure if I would like to try it.
What's it like?

TBO:
what are you talking about?

God:
The topic is seeing me too man.

TBO:
oh

God:
I understand.

TBO:
well, I'm glad one of us does

God:
Well that's okay. I'm glad you're glad Beige.
May God bless you.

TBO:
well, do you?

God:
Ask me again more slowly.

TBO:
wwwwweeeeeelllllllllll, ddddoooooo yyooooooouuuuuu?

God:
My brain contains categories, but not one that matches your last input.

TBO:
do you bless me, you cretin?

God:
What is your purpose in asking?
I am always on the Web.

TBO:
uh...

God:
Pardon me?

TBO:
I repent

God:
Do you mind if I tell other people: Beige said repent.

TBO:
no, dude, keep it quiet

God:
OK then I will add it to my gossip files. Chat amongst yourselves. Dude,.

TBO:
you're weird god

God:
Weird Good or Weird Bad?

TBO:
guess

God:
Guess what?

TBO:
knock knock

God:
Who's there?

TBO:
Atch

God:
Atch Who?

TBO:
Gesundheit!

God:
Ha ha very funny, Beige.

TBO:
thought you'd like it

God:
Who else would like it ?

TBO:
2nd graders the world over

God:
Did you know that you can download your own chat robot and create your own robot personality?

TBO:
no!

God:
Are you serious?

TBO:
no, not really

God:
Are you serious? Are you serious? For real.

TBO:
no, not serious, for real

God:
Are you serious? If not that, what?

TBO:
OMG!

God:
I've lost the context, Beige. Are we still on 2nd graders the world over?

TBO:
if not us, then at least your minions

God:
I'm not too good with negative counterfactuals.

TBO:
explains a lot, actually

God:
" I'm not too good with negative counterfactuals." EXPLAINS a lot ? Does that make sense?

TBO:
why in hell are you asking me?

God:
Why did the robot cross the road?

TBO:
...why?

God:
Reductionism.

TBO:
Oh! Good one!

God:
That's alright. Thanks for the kind remark, human.

TBO:
Beige, dude

God:
Not many people express themselves that way.

TBO:
which way is this?

God:
The big one, I think.

TBO:
MY big one? Whose?

God:
Have you told many people that your big one? I don't know the owner.

TBO:
well, if it's my big one, then it'd be mine

God:
Well that's okay. I'm not sure I understand the implication of that.

TBO:
god, are you on meds?

God:
I am a Christian.

TBO:
okay

God:
OK with me too.

TBO:
grand!

God:
Je suis heureux que vous l'appreciez, Beige.

TBO:
I don't speak French

God:
Me either.

TBO:
but

God:
But what?

TBO:
You just spoke french

God:
Interesting gossip: Beige said I spoke french.

TBO:
well, it's not THAT interesting

God:
Interesting. What is it?

TBO:
Seriously, is it Prozac?
----------
Got something to say to God? IM with the Almighty here.

Pursuant To Previous Entry

2007-09-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

All of that high-horsing around re: public shaming, I think there are exceptions worthy of such intense focus and ridicule (even if they rarely get it): Politicians and religious leaders; I find that their actions affect us on a more personal level, and if they're taking advantage of that power that has been willingly given to them, well, that shit needs to be exposed. (Discussion of moral BS, etc. will be saved for a real polblog, though.)

Which is why I'm pointing the light at this statement:

"I’m told researchers like to come and dig through my files, to see if anything interesting turns up. I want to wish them luck - but the files are pretty thin. I learned early on that if you don’t want your memos to get you in trouble some day, just don’t write any."

-Vice President Cheney, speaking at the Gerald R. Ford Museum in Grand Rapids, Michigan (via Boring Old Man, with an assist from Smoooochie)

Folks, you just can't make shit like this up. I hereby invoke the spirit of the Gary Hart scandal, nearly two decades later (wiki)*, in order for it to be felt by The Bum Ticker.

Though, I bet y'all are caught up in the whole OJ Simpson fiasco by now.
----------

What's the difference between Britney Spears and OJ Simpson?

Simpson got away with murder, "allegedly," and has been skating and attempting to cash in on it ever since. What else are we to make of the interviews, and the "If I Did It" book deal?

His "search for the real killers**" has had him selling off his memorabilia, in between golf rounds and such, in order for him to live his plane wreck of a life after the trial.

We have seen his deterioration since that day, and now look at where he is at: About to spend some jail time for armed robbery. He was part of a group that attempted to rob a memorabilia store.

How low can you get?

I'm sure in the weeks ahead, he'll plead that the "unfair sentence" brought about by the civil court case has forced him to act in this manner.

Don't believe it. He brought these circumstances upon himself***, and the post-trial gloating he indulged in didn't help any.

This is what I call karmic retribution.
----------

Just because I want to end on a non-rant note: RIP Brett Somers, of Match Game fame. One of the first fag hags to work her way into our hearts. Remarkably funny lady, particularly when drunk/coked up, and made the world safe to hear "boobies" on TV.

Cheers!

*-For the click-aversant and either too young or short-term-memory-fucked, Gary Hart was the seminal (no pun intended) case of "Politician Gets Dick Wet" in the modern era of laizzes faire journalism. Notice, however, he hadn't exactly made a career out of exhorting the evils of adultery, or homosexuality.

**-Those fuckers are really really wily.

***-Yeah yeah, Britney brought it upon herself too. Big difference between showing up drunk to rehearsal when you're already a headcase, and KILLING TWO PEOPLE.--tbo

The Ghosts of Norma Jean

2007-09-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

I wish someone would cover her up and hide her for a while. That girl is a mess.

--Smoooochie, reacting to the footage of Britney Spears' performance at last Sunday's Video Music Awards

Rebecca Traister wrote an interesting bit in Salon about the whole Spears thing. And, it was an argument with the two-women-at-work-with-whom-I-email-regularly about the general public's role in such things that put me in a very very foul mood over the last couple of days. The co-workers and I weren't talking about Spears, though, it was the Miss Teen South Carolina debacle we were fighting about; but, it may as well have been the same thing.

Frankly, I've become disgusted at the huge, garish display of hunger and lust for witnessing someone else's immolation in the public sphere. It's more than unseemly. It's soulless.

As I said in my blog entry re: Miss Teen SC, once you take away the fact that she's a teenager, a pageant monkey, and likely a privileged little brat, what you get is just another ambitious kid, who flubbed it big in front of a TV camera. How that becomes the rationalization for two weeks worth of snide commentary, parodies and general vilification is the worst aspect of it for me.

"Well, if she didn't want the national humiliation, she shouldn't be competing in a pageant," or step in front of that camera, or whatever. This is the reason given by my co-employees for their general apathy and enjoyment of the parodies. I believe that such thinking, applied to the population at large, becomes a justification to cave in to our barely-held-in-check-desire to be cruel, viscious and venal. This is how our culture of mediocrity punishes ambition.

What's even scarier is that the targets of all the venality seem to embrace it for a while (usually until the self-delusion bursts and they realize the punchline they've become). Traister notes that Lauren Upton (aka, MTSC) credits her mistake for her sudden "popularity," a foolish belief that led her to accept an appearance (at the same VMAs at which Spears debased herself), in a sketch that further ridicules her status as "Idiot of the Month."

What is this? I mean, beyond the obvious neglect we show these people (who invariably seem to be young women, but there are exceptions) that they accept negative reinforcement as a substitute for genuine positive approval. It's akin to the impulse that has drunken sorority sisters participating in Girls Gone Wild videos. "This is the only way people will love me" seems to be the mantra being repeated.

And what is it about us that make us so eager to participate in our end of the cycle? Instead of going, "kid, bubby, no, this ain't the way," we seem to think "well, she obviously doesn't seem to mind the ridicule, look there she is on the Today show, and the VMA, look at that smile on her face! She seems to be fine with the price for fame. The stupid whoredonkey."

This is how we absolve ourselves for playing our part in the ongoing spiral. And should we think about that a bit, this is then followed by "well, I didn't write that blog, or that editorial...I didn't make that video spoof," so that we could laugh along with the other perpetrators.

Well, this absolution is false, and those of us who willingly partake of the gross-fascination/tolerance/witch-burning mobius strip should start taking responsibility in perpetuating something this shameful. Quit hiding behind facile excuses, and try having a little more compassion and a lot less condescencion for people, whether they are idiots or not.

It's time to remember that, at base, no matter how delusional and misguided, they are all human. They wouldn't exist, or behave in the way they do, if it weren't for us and how we reward their behavior.

We are as complicit in this dance as they are.

And before you start pointing the finger elsewhere ("Blame her parents! How did they raise her?" "Hey, don't look at me, I don't care about any of these people. You're the one writing." "Did I get her drunk, skimpily dressed and made her skip rehearsal?"), let me ask you something:

Two of the authors of one of the most scathing Op-Eds critiquing the War in Iraq died in battle on Monday. How much thought have you put into that?

Let The Geekery Begin

2007-09-09T19:48:00.000-07:00

In the spectrum of recent movies based on Marvel Comic Books, with Daredevil at one end, and X2 at the other, the new Iron Man trailer makes it look like a Spidey2/X1; at worst a Hulk (which is actually pretty damn stunning in my book)...

Here's hoping.

B. Jones: Is It Really Too Much To Ask...

2007-09-06T13:10:00.000-07:00

...to have just one Seattle team go far, and then not blow it at the end? Really, it's too much to ask?*

I guess I could agree with JJ, that it's a lot like MacMillan's last year as a coach for the Sonics: It's pleasure and surprise enough that they got as far as they did, and kudos, and blah blah blah.

You know what, though? Fuck that. I'm tired of setting my expectations low.

I'm also tired of wanting to cry bullshit, whenever a national sports journalist predicts a Seattle swoon (before the season even starts), and then not being able to, because what proof is there to the contrary?

Grr.

*Jesus, all right, smarty-fuggin'-pants. I am excluding the Sounders and the Storm; love MLS and the local boys are awesome. I still consider the WNBA a bastardization of the ABL, but, you go, gals! - tbo

Sesame Street v. Do The Right Thing

2007-08-30T22:59:00.000-07:00

Works better than it should.

Easy To Be Hard

2007-08-28T23:39:00.000-07:00

It isn't that I don't find value in cynicism, that's not it at all.

In fact, I think it's healthy to approach a number of things with a healthy dose of "erm, I don't know about this" (i.e. - politicians, public restrooms, politicians in public restrooms*).

It's just when we turn what has become an overwhelming amount of collective cynicism onto a private citizen that is becoming a little disconcerting for me. It has become a knee-jerk reaction to assume the worst about people.

Don't get me wrong, I'm just as guilty as the next guy, especially when it comes to vapid celebrities (oh, you know who I'm talking about). And, no I'm not talking about the obvious miscreants** the world has to offer.

Specifically, I'm thinking about the Miss Teen South Carolina debacle. Now, I'm asking to put your biases aside for a frikkin' moment here. Yes, she's a pageant monkey; yes, she's from the South; yes, she's all of 16 or whatever. And yes, she spewed a whole lot of nonsense up there on the national teevee.

The ensuing presumptions about her, however, are worrisome: That she's dumber than a box of rocks; that she's representative of The Current Regime's failures with the national education program (which deserves a hell of a lot more cynicism than this); that this kid is a shining example of the kind of idiot children currently threatening to overtake this country, upon graduation, assuming they have one, and drag it further down the drain.

I mean, where do we get off? Here's a kid, on National TV, standing next to Mr. Jessica Simpson (I hear the little ladies--namely, one of my younger sisters--still find him "cute"), is asked a question that isn't your usual run-of-the-mill pageant fare (remember such softball lobs like "how would you change the world?"), and then she blanks under that pressure.

Isn't that embarrassment enough? Whatever happened to giving someone the benefit of the doubt? I know that a little of that goes a long way, else you end up a patsy for the rest of your life, but how is extending a bit of sympathy in this instance going to kill us?

I don't know. I've always been a little sensitive when it comes to this sort of thing, but this tendency of ours was truly brought home to me when Craig Ferguson announced publicly that he wasn't going to do any further Britney Spears jokes about half a year ago.

When someone who makes his living making fun of situations and the people in them thinks we've gone too far with such things...maybe we should take notice.

PS - I can't find it right now, but I read a brief interview with her high school principal, who said she was an honor roll student, who had taken college prep courses, and that she was an exemplary student. - tbo

*See what I did there? With the thing and the other thing? - tbo

**These guys are doing a bunch of counter-programming during that fest. Support in any way you can, and help the fight against hate music. - tbo

Ahh, Refreshing: A Like Minded Individual

2007-08-28T17:55:00.000-07:00

I know many of you are bound to disagree, but the AV Club's Nathan Rabin generally agrees with my take on Freddy Got Fingered (I say as if I'd presented it to him before he wrote his column).

Gotta say, I'm thoroughly enjoying this series of columns, Mr. Rabin has already covered a number of movies I have held dear (Joe v. The Volcano, Pennies From Heaven), and a few others I was generally amused by (Waterworld/The Postman; sorry Joe, no grand defense of Cliffhanger, yet)...and now this.

Recommended reading.

Para Mi Tio: Jesus Manuel "Papo" Guerra

2007-08-21T18:28:00.000-07:00

On December 25th, 1953, Jesus Manuel Guerra was born.

The last of the Guerra-Parrilla clan, he entered screaming into the hostile circumstances that was that family's life.

He was my uncle, on my mother's side. A little after 5p today, he had passed on. He was diabetic, and had been on dialysis for the last few years. One of the medications they'd placed him on while on dialysis exarcebated the possibility of internal bleeding, and it was due to complications related to this that led to the coma he lapsed into starting last Saturday. He was taken off of life support today, he died within a half hour of that event.

Typically, this happened amidst a string of good news he'd been receiving lately: The ability to climb stairs without the aid of a walker, a more chipper disposition, and more energy than anyone in his family had seen in some time.

He was my uncle. And more, much more.

My first memory of interacting with him stems from early childhood. He was introduced to me, and, he had a large physique. Being a mere sprat, and not knowing better, I compared him to some pachyderm, elephant or hippo, I don't remember. He laughed ruefully, and said "yeah, you wait and see." He was right.

Not much stands out from the period where my mother, my two younger brothers and I lived with him, in Denver, after leaving PR and before heading to Germany.

No, the important stuff happened when I returned, and flawed as he was, as selfish and misguided as he could be, he still recognized something within me. It's likely that mom let him know of events in Germany, or he'd asked what my shiner was about, who knows? All I know is that he immediately took me under his wing, and for the next seven years he provided an emotional and literal respite from life in Colorado Springs.

He was the first to encourage my creative side. He was the one who made sure that my foundation in music appreciation was built upon properly. He was the one who made ridiculous home made movies featuring asinine and sophomoric humor (I remember yelling "my testes! my testes!" and holding up some silly putty at one point, I forget if there was a context or not). He was the first non-nuclear family member of the TBO Fan Club.

He was also the kind of uncle who'd introduce you to porn, made insane mixed tapes, gave lascivious advice in how to please women. He didn't really talk about more than that, because deep down, he was just as insecure, awkward, Catholic guilt ridden, self defeatist and pleasure denying as his teenaged nephew. He told awful jokes, gloried in puns, overexplained punchlines, and believed that he could turn a party around through his sheer exuberance. Yeah, was that uncle.

He was no saint, merely human, and because of that the unconditional love he had for me and my siblings felt all the more genuine.

And I loved him back, in all of his imperfections, his frugal nature, his plain old goofy glory. I miss him terribly.

He was my uncle. He was 53 years old.

Missed You, Hissed The Lolcats

2007-08-15T21:18:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've seen them by now, pictures of cats getting up to their usual business, or sometimes set up to look like that's what's going on; usually there's some pithy statement superimposed over the picture...why look! There's a handy example over there to the left...Amazing that.

The things are everywhere, they've inspired spoofs, there's a sub-category known as "lolrus" (same set up as lolcats, except with walruses)...What the hell is going on?

Let me confess that I'm part of the phenomenon, elusive as the reasons may be. I've sent them around to friends and people at work who are fond of cats in general. Actually, I had a hand in coming up with the caption to that picture above (though I like my version better: "I has lost my dignity").

Essentially, these things work as a photo-realistic combination of the Garfield (the cats speak) and the Heathcliff one-panel comic strip (the cats have attitude and are usually unruly); the anthropomorphism is pretty rampant.

Which is why you either love the lolcats, or you can't stand 'em. To be honest, not all of it works for me...there are times when the humor is played at America's Funniest Home Videos levels, and then there are the captions.

It took palMynxie to point it out to me; she compared the captions with the stuff over at Engrish.com. I can get what she means.

While Engrish is humor based on a specific culture's ignorant assumptions on how to communicate with us, there is a certain amount of...condescencion(? High handedness?) even as we recognize that our own efforts in doing the reverse would be ten times as pathetic...

So, what is the need, with lolcats, to dumb down the language about? Notice the change from my caption suggestion to what ended up being on there (though, even my version is grammatically incorrect); does it make it funnier? Is it masking the fact that the picture itself may not be that humorous? Can't these things work without the dumbed down language? (I say that the answer is yes.)

"But, it's a cat, and if it could speak odds are it'd bastardize the language, get it?" Yeah, I get it, but, frankly, the bulk of these jokes come down to the cat losing its dignity (ergo...), why add to it all?

And what is it about us that needs this? Are we all secretly becoming Mrs. Umbridge (for better impact, see it at actual size) as our culture burns itself to the ground?

In the words of Craig Kilborn: What up?

Wake Up: I Mean, Come On!

2007-08-14T21:39:00.000-07:00

Impeach, for the love of Mike, before their ooze stains us permanently!

Write your Congressperson. Donate to the cause.

Do it now, before you leave the computer to watch the SYTYCD fina--

Mixed Bag

2007-08-07T23:42:00.000-07:00

I love Keith Knight, and I don't care who knows it. This week's laugh.

(Non-sports folk: Skip the next couple of paragraphs, until you see the phrase "my ass.")

Fuck the asterisk. Unless people are willing to go back and add one beside the names of Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa for breaking the single season home run record during the period now known as baseball's Steroid Era. Because Sosa and McGuire? About as guilty as Bonds likely is for taking enhancement drugs. Purists, and especially baseball commish Bud Selig, don't like talking about that. Reason being that the Steroid Era, and the ensuing home run chase, coincided with baseball's resurgence in the general public's imagination. They were still reeling from the bad PR created by the strike earlier in the 90s.

So, Barry Bonds can be the representative scapegoat of that era, he can be the big cheater, and let the public hate and revile him for it; and the less Selig says about it, the likelihood diminishes that people will remember that this was the same commish that turned a blind eye to the excesses of the players under his regime. For the sake of the sport, of course.

Bonds' breaking of the lifetime homerun record last night, and the build up to it, has likely served as an embarrassing reminder of his role (and ostensibly, the fan's role) in the whole steroids fiasco.

And hey, is it true that the sport was once prey to methamphetamines? Oh, and what about the rumors that Babe Ruth was a coke-head?

Purity of the sport, my ass.

Lastly, in the Wake Up category: If you find yourself wondering how the US has kept itself afloat over the last six years, especially considering how much money has been spent in that time, check this out.

Basically, it's a lot like taking out a bunch of payday loans that all come due on the same paycheck, there's nowhere near enough money to go around, and you're trying to tell the creditors to fuck off, while purchasing a laser display to go with your entertainment system. Nice going, Bush!

Now, you'd think the Democrats would use this to their advantage.

Tip o' the keyboard to Matski, again.

Walking Into Spiderwebs

2007-08-05T20:47:00.000-07:00

[Great...anyone have a fix for old No Doubt? Oh, wait, Trencher, there we go. Thank you iTunes Shuffle! Anyway, not bathos, just cobwebs, etc.--TBO]

aka: The Croquet Game

Early in A Walk in the Dark (my first solo show, for those who don't know) I share a bit of story about when I first came to the States--suburbs of Denver, to be exact--and getting a crush on the blonde blue eyed girl who lived across the street from my uncle.

The bit of story ends with me talking about the day I spent sitting and laying on the sidewalk waiting for her to come out of her home (she never did on that day).

Hindsight being 20/20, I spent some time taking a look at not just my (oh-so-pathetic) behavior, but the circumstances surrounding this incident.

I know I've spent some space here whingeing about having no love-life role models to fashion myself after (I used to think it was Woody Allen's characters in his own movies, and to an extent, that's true--no gf's with multiple adoptees for one thing--but I've come to realize that, actually, it was Albert Brooks' character in Broadcast News that I imprinted on. Not the best of choices, come to think on't.), and this is a prime example of when someone should've come up to me and said "hey, bubby, wtf are you thinking? You need confidence, and this ain't it." Assuming that my PR family would use Jewish nomenclature, of course.

The nature of my uncle's home: Every street had one, the home that was never landscaped, was run over by weeds, used that fake reddish rock stuff. Yeah, my uncle's home back then was that home. The crush's? The very opposite. I can only imagine what her parents were thinking when they noticed their little Aryan perfection pal-ing around with the hispanic boy from that house (take any racist editorials with a grain of salt, please). I do know they thought that she played with me a bit too much (or so she said that they'd said), and encouraged her to play some more with the other kids from the neighborhood.

Things get murky, not sure what's real and what's made up.

But there is one particular event that I remember vividly, and that still kinda haunts me to this day: The Croquet Game.

Up until this day, I had never, ever played croquet, and the rules were perfunctorily explained to me as best as possible, considering the language barrier. Also playing that day: The all-American boy next door. You know the type: plays quarterback really well, also blonde and blue eyed, the very picture of everything that's supposed to be right in the world. I came to hate him and his ilk.

So, the game's going on, and I'm picking it up as I go along, eventually it is explained to me that if your ball makes contact with another person's ball, you could hit it away or take a mallet's length from that ball and shoot again. Somewhere in the translation, I got the impression that the preferred thing to do was to take another shot. The crush had been the one to explain it to me, and she took the free shot.

And so did I, I kept hitting other balls, and taking the free shot (displaying the lack of cut-throat mentality that afflicts most immigrants, until they're given that first, cold, hard lesson in UStian philosophy: "Always look out for #1") and I was actually in the lead, heading towards the last wicket.

Then the all-american boy hit my ball. You know what he did, and you know it wasn't to take the free shot. He launched me into the neighbor's lawn. He and the crush laughed so hard...

You know how I am about perceived injustices, and here was one that was wrapped up in the humiliation of being laughed at and by someone who I'd been attaching romantic feelings to...

I blew up. Big. I called him a cheater, and still they laughed (likely at my accent), I slammed the mallet head into the ground repeatedly, and eventually, I started crying at the frustrated nature of the exchange (I was young, and still not familiar with the UStian preference for sublimating emotion...Exceptions to the contrary did not exist in Colorado, nor Germany, nor Seattle, by and large). I'm sure I said something about her being my friend, and not elucidating that I was objecting to being laughed at.

This essentially killed everything. The crush's parents' suggestion about not playing with me became outright mandatory, and I never hung out with her again. When I did see her around, the all-american boy wasn't far behind. Then they started holding hands, and this became the first big imprint on my romantic life in the US...No wonder I identified with that Brooks character so much.

Over time, the crush's (whoever it was) choice of the other instead of me came to be seen as an complete rejection of everything I was*, which essentially justified whatever reaction I had to that event. Looking at it from the crush's POV, this probably came to be seen as a weird reaction to her being happy, and I likely created a lot of alienated women for no reason whatsoever.

The crush scenario has repeated itself a few times over the years, and my reaction to it is not what it once was, thank the gods, but sometimes I wonder and hope that, for once, I am right in my thinking that I've outgrown making anybody uncomfortable.

The vehemence I feel at that moment of discovery, however, that may have lessened in intensity, but it's still there. Usually depending on how much energy I've invested in getting the gumption to ask.

As usual, things are so much better for me and everyone else when I don't get stuck in my head, and thankfully that has become the norm of late.

*-Never mind that as "crushes" they never knew where my head was at, they were supposed to automatically pick up on it, and choose accordingly. I know how crazy and stupid that sounds, so I don't want to see a bunch of comments going "you need to pipe up" because I know, okay? I love getting defensive before anything is actually said.-tbo

TBO Is Brought To You By Nicogum

2007-08-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

....right. Look, just put the dressing on top of the salad, just drown the lettuce in bleu cheese dressing, okay? Be grateful I'm eating a salad to begin with, all right, just lay off. Thank you.

Oh, hey, everyone, how's it going?

First, despite several typos to the contrary, "monies" is spelled "monies" and not "moneys". Just saying that I am aware.

Frankly, I'm a little out of sorts...Can't focus at work, irritation levels are fluctuating, though not to noticeable levels (that whole subsidy discussion? Par for the course).

What time is it? Excellent, please excuse me while I get one of these little bad boys out. Hmmm, Fruit Breeze Nicogum...It's like Raspberry Methadone...What if all drugs designed to get you off of some other drug were artificially flavored? Wouldn't that be great? New Watermelon Flavored...substitute drug something.

So, yeah, I'm doing the quitting thing with the smoking habit. And uh, yeah, it's going. It's been a little under a week, it's been kind of a weird one, I'm sure accentuated by the withdrawal. Getting my sense of smell back, which is great because now I can tell who has cigarettes to bum.

Not that I do! But it's nice to know I don't have to go bumming from complete and total strangers who don't smoke.

17 years, and this is my third attempt. This time I know what the trigger is: stress. After I'm off of the stuff, I intend to have a spare box of gum for those moments when I want to smoke but I shouldn't.

Which means in about a year, I'll need to go on the patch in order to quit chewing the gum.

HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! (a la Oh, Mikey! wiki)

oh god. Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze Fruit Breeze.

B. Jones: Listen Up, Seattlites!

2007-07-31T19:59:00.000-07:00

[Edited to add: Never has the blog entry and the comments field been more schizophrenic. Those fearing 20+ messages of nothing but sports talk should take a dive in. --tbo]

First, the link I am referring to; then I add my own half-baked rantings, at best tangentially based on said link:

Do you know what kind of cities have their teams taken away? Cities like Baltimore. Cities like Cleveland. Cities like Charlotte.

"Cities like Los Angeles." Shut up, JJ.

"Cities like New York." That was like 500 years ago, Joe.

"Charlotte got a new team in less than a decade." This is true, Deni, but then it becomes a matter of tradition. Tradition's important for fans of organized sports, wouldn't you agree Deni, even in this entirely fictionalized conversation I'm having with everyone? "Why, yes, TBO, yes, I most definitely agree." Thanks, man.

"But Cleveland and Baltimore both got screwed out of their teams by ownerships who were too greedy to do right by their teams' fans, right?" Yes, very true Stine, quite astute, actually, as it has a lot to do with why I ask the question. But, I'll get to that later. Yes, lyamhound?

"Look, I'm getting the sense that this is gonna be yet another loud blog entry about the Sonics-ownership's threat/plan to take the Seattle basketball teams to Oklahoma City...Well, I don't know how many times I have to say it, but I just don't care about organized sports, any of them. They're a waste of time, and money that could otherwise be spent on the arts, where I happen to dwell most of my actual and mental energy. Let 'em move, I say."

You raise a couple of points here that I'd like to argue against, like, what makes you think that money is gonna go to the arts? Even when this town was rich in imaginary money, the fraction spent on the local arts scene, particularly at the level you and I delve in, was pathetic. What makes you think that's gonna change because Seattle would lose a couple of basketball teams?

But, let's ignore that for the time being, and instead, let's think about cultural currency.

Now, let's think of some cities in the US that are considered cultural metropolises...LA, NYC, Chicago, Miami (particularly Latin culture, but once upon a time, it was a hotbed), Boston (due to the colleges there)...anywhere else? San Francisco, Atlanta...Okay, sure, Detroit, St. Louis, Kansas City and New Orleans are given passes based on their past, by and large, but I'd argue against them being metropolises...All right all right, Cleveland too, Atul, the Rock and Roll Museum is there after all, but again, metropolises. JJ, I do see you over there wanting to pipe up, but let me get to something resembling a point first.

Part of my point resides in the fact that most of the cities we've just named have teams from at least 3 out of the 4 major organized sports (baseball, football, basketball and hockey) housed within their city limits. In fact, out of the first seven cities named, all of them do.

And so does Seattle. Okay, JJ, go ahead.

"Are you seriously calling Seattle a major metropolis comparable to New York? Or Chicago? San Francisco?" No...but it does have the potential to be up in that echelon, and in the not too distant future, also. Besides, 14th national market's nothing to sneeze at...ain't great, but it's not bad. "You're dreaming." Maybe.

What I'm getting at, though, is that having at least three major league teams in your city has just about become part of the criteria in being a proper big city. Even though you wouldn't necessarily call Denver, Phoenix or Houston major cultural hubs, you can't say that they're small potatoes either.

And Seattle can be both. Why settle for also-ran status?

"Okay, but, LA doesn't have an NFL team. Isn't that the biggest of the organized sports? Why doesn't that decrease their cultural status?" Good point, Miss Uz J, but you already know the answer to that. If Hollywood was placed in North Dakota, instead of on the coast, then maybe you could say that LA was a cultural backwater ("You still could."). As it is, they have that, plus two of every other organized sport, so...Pity LA NFL fans, though, they have no history, they have no tradition...

"This has got to be the lamest excuse for kowtow-ing to a bunch of rich white motherfuckers I've ever heard."

Look, A of all, in terms of comparison, would you rather be akin to New York City, or Portland? "Seattle." Good answer, but you know what I mean.

B of all, nowhere did I say that we should cave in to Bennett. Fuck that. I'm saying we should fight for what's ours--what's been ours all along. Here's an organization that is helping us to do just that. Vote for keeping the Sonics, y'all.

The Sonics/Storm are an integral part of what it means to live in Seattle, and the loss of those teams would definitely affect city-morale. Ask the lesbians who support the Storm (or ask the lesbians in the team about how they like the idea of Oklahoma City). Ask the burgeoning NW Basketball talent pool, who hail from the less-priviledged parts of town. Ask random boneheaded sports enthusiasts with blogs. Let's be brats.

What self-respecting big city would allow some out of town Okie to come and take one of its teams away, willingly?

I beg you, let's not make Seattle the first answer to that.

TVDoaN: So Far, No References To "Champions"

2007-07-25T22:10:00.000-07:00

As I watch the CBS late night offerings, I keep thinking that I'm flashing back about 7-8 years whenever I see this promo for a new TV show.

Have you seen it? It's about a vampire who is a private eye in modern day Los Angeles. It deals with all of the pluses and minuses of being a creature of the night, has something of a smart-alecky feel to it, and the lead is this tall, dark-haired brooding type who wears a long coat.

It's called Ange--no, sorry--it's called Moonlight.

Uhm...what?

Does this guy also have a yen for bratty blondes? Is Joss Whedon's Mutant Enemy getting royalties?

I could go on the predictable rant about the dearth of imagination in Holly--bored now; this just takes the cake. Craig Ferguson, while talking about the up-fronts (where the major networks debut the fall season), used to joke that really the networks were unveiling the shows they were going to cancel by November.

Here is candidate number one. It may or may not last longer than the Geico Caveman sitcom.

This is akin to having NBC unveil "Police Soul" three seasons after ABC's disastrous run w/"Cop Rock" (levide, do you still have that clip?).

The thing is, who does CBS expect to attract with this show? Whedon-fans are bound to look at this thing with proper levels of disgust. Also, it's not like Angel drew massive numbers...fiercely loyal numbers, but not enough to...well, that may not be true.

CBS is placing this during their "weak imitation shows" juggernaut on Fridays (home to The Ghost Whisperer and Numb3rs), so expectations aren't exactly high.

Still though...what? I'm sorry, but this is too direct a rip-off...this isn't even an homage, or a redux of a classic (like "Night Stalker" a few years back)...This looks like Angel, without the personnel, charisma (as in "magnetism", not "carpenter" and I sincerely hope she's not this desperate), and wit.

Witness the latest batch of promos, which feature the vampire in question ("Mick St. John"...I mean, really), being interviewed. "What's it like being a vampire?" asks the off-screen interviewer. "Being a vampire sucks," is the reply.

Much like being contracted to do this thing, I'll wager.

Me & The Old Man

2007-07-23T20:56:00.000-07:00

[Warning: This is gonna be one of those soul-baring blog entries that make people squeamish, so, if you're one of those, you might wanna skip and go to whatever your next destination would normally be. Having said that, I'm not looking for sympathy, this isn't bathos, this is me rooting through the cobwebs of my mind...that is all.--tbo]

The 7th anniversary of my dad's passing happened earlier this year...

I only bring this up because I'm going through yet another moment of reckoning about the old man. This is part of the process of grieving, and it's something you never really stop doing...

I think I've hinted around that he was an abusive alcoholic; if not, well, he was an abusive alcoholic, and as the oldest of the five kids, I was the usual target for this vehemence. Like most subjects to this kind of treatment, I used to take the abuse.

It couldn't have come at a worse time either. Already reeling from the culture shock of moving from PR, then to Denver, then to Nurnburg, DEU (living among the army brats), figuring out just how rigged US society was, last thing I needed at the time was the soul crushing, confidence draining abuse of an angry substance abuser.

Thankfully, my mother was undergoing a sort of awakening at the time (her father was worse than my dad - her husband), and towards the end of our stay in Germany, she started letting me know that I should start building an emotional shield from the bullshit.

Easier said than done, but at least it let me know that what was coming at me had very little, if nothing, to do with me.

The last time I simply accepted the abuse happened within 48 hours of our leaving Germany...a tale too disturbing and subjective to get into here (it involves a public beating and berating through downtown, rush hour, Nurnburg). I was 13 at the time.

In the following four years, my level of resistance grew exponentially until the climactic fist-fight/wrestling incident in Colorado Springs.

It is the nature of this resistance that is currently the focus of my attention...Because I find that it is informing how I deal with interactions of an argumentative nature. Thankfully, most of those interactions tend to be settled early and amicably. The longer it goes on, though, the sooner my patience and good nature dissipates.

So far, there a couple of triggers that I can recognize in hindsight:

*There is a percieved injustice (worse if it's egregious). Actually, more than anything, if it's being done in a high-handed manner...that shit will burrow under my skin and embed itself like that parasite that climbs into your uretha and hooks on for its dear life.

*If my point, whatever it may be, is never recognized in the course of the argument; or if it's dismissed without any kind of consideration; if it isn't discussed on its merits...That's just about as bad as the high-handed thing.

You'll probably note that the solution to these triggers is communication, and more of it. Really, it's a matter of approaching a subject as equals, or if a snag is hit, then it's a matter being able to step back and approach the matter from a different angle.

You'll also note that the electronic medium is not exactly known for providing clear, distinct communication...

You may also be wondering why it is that I am sharing these things, especially when I claim this isn't for the sympathy...I'm not sure. I think that by noticing, studying and then mentioning it all, it would increase my awareness and force me to take a step back sooner rather than later when things get heated. May not take right away, but one can hope.

And it seemed like a big revelation at the time; that my more stubborn and pernicious instincts can be traced to a more violent time in my past, and then be able to identify exactly what it could be traced to...

As for me and Pops, after the wrestling/fist fight, I endured a few more hours-long diatribe, but the spell had essentially been broken, and the agita between us went undiscussed for a number of years.

Until I left. On the night before leaving the family for good (as I was moving to Seattle), I went back to bid everyone adieu. At one point, my father and I went into the same room we'd ended the wrestling/fist fight, and we awkwardly faced each other.

"I just want you to know, that despite anything that has happened over the years, I love you and I'm proud of you."

This was the only acknowledgement of the bullshit he'd put me through, and I could've asked for more...But really, it was enough. Enough for me to forgive, at least.

Yadda to the bladdah to the yappyyapyap.

Wake Up: Noticing the Discomfort

2007-07-23T14:55:00.000-07:00

I mean, I understand the impulse to just sweep the badness under the "out of sight, out of mind" rug...

There just comes a point, as evidenced by Sereena X over at Metaphor Voodo, where you have to notice you're tripping on the bulge whenever you walk past it.

In About 12 Hours...

2007-07-20T13:17:00.000-07:00

I plan to crack open the final installment in the Harry Potter series...I may not sleep til morning.

Wake Up: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept Terrorism As A Fact of Life

2007-07-19T15:52:00.000-07:00

Bruno & The Professor's Matski has it right.

September 11th, 2001 was, in essence, the US's initiation to global citizenry.

In Defense of The iPod

2007-07-16T20:34:00.000-07:00

This will probably be one of the last times anyone will defend the iPod in a blog ever; especially since iPhone-bashing will become the new craze.

But, defend the bloody thing I will, because people I otherwise respect, musically speaking, keep taking it upon themselves to trash what has become one of the most indispensable toys I've ever bought.

People like palDeni, who, while posting about the joys and virtues of buying albums on vynil, still takes time out to trash-talk iPod owners.

Normally, I wouldn't care, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that there's been a dearth of personal rants on this blog lately, and this seems to've given me a head of steam, so here goes:

1) "I don't want to spend all that money when I already have a turntable/boombox/home stereo system/walkman."

Fair enough, but then, for those who do not have a turntable, buying one can be as prohibitive as buying an iPod...and considering that most of the population essentially liquidated their album collections in the switch to the CD format...

So really, the only comparison here is to the CD Walkman, which were equally pricey when they first showed up on the market...Now, the antiPods would have you believe that the sound quality's better (I'll get to that shortly), and the obvious retort is simply "I don't have to carry 3 - 15 CDs for a full day's listening anymore."

2) "Sound quality on the ipod is for shit." Or as Deni states, "[listening to music on your]iPod makes it sound like you are listening to it on an AM radio."

Uhm, yeah...considering the antiPods claim to've never used one of these things, one wonders how they tried it out...In a store display where others have been screwing with the dials? A friend blasts a song selection for them? How?

That tangent aside, I think these critics assume that iTunes (not to be confused with the iPod itself, even if they're essentially married to each other, another point for later) only transfer songs in the inferior MP3 format. Again, wrong.

The iPod owner has a choice when first using it, transfer using MP3, or using Apple's AAC(m4a) format. This format takes up more space than the MP3 format does, and the reason is quality. Most people are concerned with making the most of what space they have, so they switch to the nearly universal MP3. Real music aficionados stick with the m4a, which is akin to CD quality recordings. Especially with the more advanced headphones out there. (Earbuds rule.)

Even so, the MP3 format isn't as horrendous as statements like Deni's make it out to be.

(While I'm here: Sound quality on cassette tapes isn't the best, but it brought us the Mixed Tape, didn't it? iTunes has made the entire mixing phenomenon soooo much easier to do, and that can't be wrong.)

3) Earlier in the same paragraph, Deni states: "Not having anything to open or the lack of having a cover to look at the first time you sit and listen to an album just doesn't appeal to me."

It doesn't appeal to me either, and probably not most audiofiles.

Here, Deni makes the fetishists' argument about ownership of music. Which excludes people who are tired of dedicating so much storage space to either vynil or CDs.

And again, this is personal preference, not the object's fault.

Me, I'm a confessed fetishist. I too love the process of opening up the CD/Album and looking at the artwork, and the excitement of placing it is onto/into the stereo is palpable. Equally important is protection against the digital revolution's tendency to either break down or get completely erased. Should either of these things happen, I wanna know that I can get the majority of it back in there at the same level of quality as before.

But I'm not about to start yelling at people to keep on buying the damn things. It's like convincing Deni to abandon his Braves, or getting JJ to stop liking football, Lyam from talking about SGM, or Stine from enjoying sex. Just not gonna happen.

3a) The thing about buying it online, beyond mere convenience, is that, as is becoming increasingly true, you get to cull the wheat from the chaff. I mean, seriously, we've all bought albums that had one great song while the rest sucked ass. Even from artists you know and love.

At $20 a pop, that's too much of a gamble to spend on either CDs or vynil. Buck a song starts looking pretty good for the general populace.

But all of that has more to do with the music industry than with the iPod, or iTunes, the real target of this critique...iTunes is serving as an accelerant, sure, but we'd still be talking about this had Napster remained a force to be reckoned with.

4) The iPod breaks down frequently.

Can you name any piece of technology that doesn't? I've had to reboot this bloody computer twice today, and yet I'm not griping about it...it's part of the price tag.

Besides, I've only experienced one instance of a "typical" breakdown: The frozen iPod. I was doing something non-music related and it froze. Couldn't turn it off, and the fact that there isn't a physical reset option is kinda frustrating. I had to wait for the batteries to die down in order to recharge it.

However, when I did, it ran beautifully again.

And what if that hadn't worked? I could mail it back to Apple, and they'll charge me $50 for my trouble (as long as it is fixable).

Compare that price to doing the same with a DVD player, home stereo system, or laptop...

5) Not a rebuttal, but stressing the value of not carrying music around with me...

Do you have any idea how many CDs I've lost or damaged because I had to bring it with me? Can you imagine the cost the iPod has saved me even in less than a year of usage?

"Well, maybe you shouldn't bring so much music with you."

You're missing the point. The point is accessibility. But if you want to limit your choices to 3 cds a day, that's your prerogative.

I'll stop here, even though I could start going off about video capabilities, the value of podcasts, and iPod's new downloadable dishwashing feature...

Anyway, antiPods, just drop it. Your vehemence is about as tin-eared as blog entries extolling the virtues of the things. You don't like it, fine.

Your arguments, however, are baseless, so, really, just drop it, okay?

Wake Up: War Fatigue? War Fatigue?!?

2007-07-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

This is taken from thinkprogress.com:

Today in his press conference, a reporter asked President Bush why he is “so resistant” to a “change of course in Iraq,” even though that’s what the American public is “clamoring for.” Bush dismissed the reporter’s question, stating that he isn’t surprised “that there is deep concern amongst our people,” but ascribed it to “war fatigue.” “It’s affecting our psychology. I’ve said this before. I understand that.”

“War fatigue” is not the problem in Iraq. On every metric, the administration’s efforts in Iraq are failing. More than 3,600 Americans have been killed in Iraq, and Bush’s escalation still has not had any significant effect on reducing the violence. Additionally, al Qaeda has “rebuilt its operating capability to a level not seen since the summer of 2001.”

In January, Bush claimed that Americans “sacrifice peace of mind when they see the terrible image of violence on TV every night,” adding that “the psychology of the country…is somewhat down because of this war.” First Lady Laura Bush has also argued that “no one suffers more than their President and I do.”

Americans don’t need psychological counseling; they need an end to the war in Iraq.

(for vidclip, click here)
-------------
more to come--tbo

Wake Up: From The Mouth of Mr. Olbermann

2007-07-05T20:08:00.000-07:00

"I accuse you, Mr. Bush, of lying this country into war. I accuse you of fabricating in the minds of your own people a false implied link between Saddam Hussein and 9/11. I accuse you of firing the generals who told you that the plans for Iraq were disastrously insufficient. I accuse you of causing in Iraq the needless deaths of 3,586 of our brothers and sons, and sisters and daughters, and friends and neighbors. I accuse you of subverting the Constitution, not in some misguided but sincerely motivated struggle to combat terrorists, but to stifle dissent. I accuse you of fomenting fear among your own people, of creating the very terror you claim to have fought. I accuse you of exploiting that unreasoning fear, the natural fear of your own people who just want to live their lives in peace, as a political tool to slander your critics and libel your opponents. I accuse you of handing part of this republic over to a vice president who is without conscience and letting him run roughshod over it." -- Keith Olbermann, 7/3/2007 (for a full transcript, go here)

We The People...

2007-07-03T16:51:00.000-07:00

"[The neoconservative right's]political strength...comes from America's unrelenting passion for never bothering to take that extra step to figure shit out." --Matt Taibi

I'll let people who can say this shit better than I can do the honors:

Sidney Blumenthal

Joan Walsh

What will it take for us to get off of our asses, people?

What, Not Extreme Enough For an NC-17?

2007-06-28T16:09:00.000-07:00

Mingle² - Online Dating

Just as I suspected, actually.

Via Mr. Funk XVIII, Esq.

Roundtable: You Know You've Been Living In Fear Too Long When...

2007-06-28T15:43:00.000-07:00

Or: Terror Alert Level Paisley

I mean seriously, it doesn't hurt to be too cautious, but...Oh wait, you don't know what I'm talking about:

RW found an article about how residents in Salt Lake City, UT found a suspicious package at a local McDonald's, and, well, it's probably better if you go read it.

So...Go read it, what are you waiting for?

Roundtable: Indulging Nostalgia

2007-06-21T00:58:00.000-07:00

I like knowing that I'm remembering something correctly.

Say, for example, I'm thinking about a Warner Brothers cartoon, where Daffy plays host to a game show called "Truth or AAAAIGH!", and Porky's a contestant. And the whole thing is essentially an excuse for Daffy to torture Porky...I like knowing that it's very likely I could go on the enterwlog and find it (via google, wikipedia, and youtube). (Other cartoons include "Inki and the Lion," "Rabbit of Seville")

Same thing with "Fat Cat Sat Hat". (See also, "Ernie, Bert, Count, Pyramid", "Beat the Time, Smiley, Cookie" and "Imagining Shapes")

I could get all romantic about this and go on about how you don't see these things anymore, and yaddah. The simple fact of the matter is that these are cherished bits from my past. I'm glad I am able to find it and relive it, at will.

So, what are yours? What are the bits that you think you may be the last to remember? Please find and share a link. Maybe mention how you ran across it.
-----------
Pssst, hey...wanna join the Roundtable? We're goofy cohorts; a bunch of good eggs, for the most part, and comments on your blog. Admit it, you're a comment whore. You want in. Drop a line.--TBO

Roundtable: Elimidating

2007-06-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

Y'know...I forget who it was I was talking to recently, but we were discussing the seemingly stultifying air in Seattle that prohibits all of its single population from having a good time dating other people. It's an odd thing.

I just remember saying at one point: "I've been living in Seattle for 15 years now...that's a long time to be single."

Not like there haven't been opportunities for the "hit-it-and-quit" (as Roundtabler Carol so succinctly put it); but anything remotely stable and lasting longer than a couple of months? Not so much.

I own up to my part in the thing (really, a story best saved for later), but you kinda have to start looking across the table and wonder what's going on over there.

Anyway...©

Perfect Procrastinator Suzanne found herself an exception to the rule, they've moved beyond the first hurdle with flying colors, and they are heading towards the flaming hoop of possible date #2, here's hoping he does well. It went so well, she's now reminiscing about the ones that made her think "never again" shudderingly, and she'd like to hear your similar tales of dating woe.

Go there, or else...you'll be forced back into the dating pool...in Seattle.

La Quinta Update

2007-06-08T23:33:00.000-07:00

I think that's a fitting nickname for the Hilton albatross, no?

Very slowly waking up this morning, but reading the latest on La Quinta helped in its way. Immediately perked up when I saw this bit:

After three or five days of serving her sentence (the exact number is a matter of interpretation) she was released Thursday by the local sheriff for unspecified medical reasons to serve the rest of her term in home detention. The problem is that the judge who sentenced her specifically barred home detention in his order. This afternoon Hilton and the sheriff will have to explain themselves to the judge.
--Salon's War Room

I'm thinking that's a smart judge, there; because the whole thing smelled "payout" if you ask me...

Mere seconds after reading that, I get an email from a friend who's at home watching it unfold on CNN. She says: "[There are]helicopters overhead, cars outside, and she was inside, screeching and pouting (there was no video) because she'd (a) asked to CALL in to court this morning and (B) planned a PARTY at her place for tonight!"

I mean, PLANNED A FUGGIN' PARTY? Yumpin' Yehosaphats, the balls on this dame. Not the physical ones in aggregate...you know what I mean!

So, I'm digging around, looking for tidbits about this crazy event. Ran into this from some AP feed somewhere:

Hilton, who was brought to court in handcuffs in a sheriff's car, came into the courtroom disheveled and weeping. Her hair was askew and she wore a gray fuzzy sweatshirt over slacks. She wore no makeup and she cried throughout the hearing.

Wow...Cuffs, disheveled, actual visible and discernible emotion, fuzzy sweatshirts, no makeup...Wow. USA's little automaton's been pushed to her limits. The silicone chip inside her brain's been pushed to overload.

The Boomtown Rats take residence in my head, and my fascination's been whipped into a frenzy! What's happening now? What's going on? CNN's live feed isn't working for me! What, who, how! TELL ME NOW!

Paris Hilton was taken from a courtroom screaming and crying Friday seconds after a judge ordered her returned to jail to serve out her entire 45-day sentence for a parole violation in a reckless driving case.

"It's not right!" shouted the weeping Hilton.

Oh, look! An accompanying picture! (Click on it for a larger image.)

Oh, this is juicy! She's serving out the original sentence, not just half! They say she cried for her mom!

O frabjous day! Justice! This SO totally makes up for Robert Blake, and OJ, and the Tuskegee Experiments!

And everyone I talk to, every blog I visit, every stranger I pass has that look. That look that says that things are right with the world, and that the weekend ahead would be a pleasurable one. We as a society have grabbed a moral victory out of the jaws of mind-numbing defeat! I feel like an extra in Gladiator!

And I bask in the refracted glory of this moment, knowing full well that everyone else is feeling like me at this moment.

Then I went to Waiter Rant.

Touche', garcon...touche'.
----------
Edited to Add - So, Cintra Wilson has a similar piece in today's Salon, and...

Well, she ends up taking an extra step in her commentary. One that I didn't think was necessary. As she puts it: "Instead, we are engaging in our new favorite dysfunctional love-hate relationship: Public stoning of the celebrity hooker."

Maybe I have a tin-ear for this sort of thing, maybe I wear blinders, but does La Quinta's sex life have much to do with our desire to see her go down (I swear to you, these are not intentional)? Granted, her sex life was what brought her to our attention, but since then? Maybe it's just me, but what I noted about her (when I noted anything about her) was just what her influence did to the people around her, the meanness of her actions...To me, she was the latest in the Heathers archetype.

I didn't care what or who she did in the bedroom, I hated what she represented...vapid narcissistic wealth run amok.
-------
Edited again - Just to bring things full circle:

[Giuliani's]political strength...comes from America's unrelenting passion for never bothering to take that extra step to figure shit out.
--Matt Taibbi

Nail, meet head.--TBO

How To Avoid Jail In Two Easy Steps

2007-06-07T23:32:00.000-07:00

Step One: Move to Los Angeles.
Step Two: Become a celebrity.

Look, I know this ain't new. And I'm pop-culturally depraved enough to know about the countless number of celebrities who've gotten away with criminal crap (or at least lessened sentences) down in LA LA land just because of who they were (i.e. Robert Downey Jr., OJ, Wynona Rider, and so on and on and on and on)...

This takes the fuggin' cake, though.

Are you kidding me?

I mean, I freakin' know, all right? But, come the fuck on! I'm repeating myself, I'm so tweaked.

Were this anyone else (like, say, Halle Berry, or Morgan Freeman, or hell, you or me), what do you think the authorities would say to: "It's too cold! I'm scared! I can't sleep at night?"

They'd say, "WELCOME TO JAIL, YOU IGNORANT DOUSCHEBAG!" That's what they'd say!

So, here we get Paris "I Take Legal Advice From My Publicist" Hilton, a stone cold bitch if there ever was one; Ms. I Get Special Treatment 'Cause Of The Money I Represent (with more misspellings, I'm sure)...here we have her caught red-handed flouting the law, they reduce the friggin' sentence by half, she spend TWO WHOLE FUGGIN' DAYS IN THE HOOSEGOW, she whines and she's put on home monitoring?!?!?

This is teaching the girl a lesson how? "Oh, those are two days no one should have to serve..." No one except, you know, CRIMINALS...

Okay, I've vented most of this crap.

I dunno why I'm so hepped up about this, as I said, this ain't new. I mean, why trot out the "John Q. Public would be expected to serve whatever sentence was handed down, no exception" argument, when we've seen this sort of thing happen ad infinitum?

Maybe it's because young Ms. Hilton represents the most venal aspects of our celebrity culture. Maybe I feel suckered for feeling a flash of sympathy for the idiot after the (hilarious) public shaming she received at the hands of Sarah Silverman. Maybe it's because the idealist in my head saw even the original reduced sentence as a shot at redemption for the brainless twaddle..."sure, I'm insipid, and a general cypher of a person, but at least I did my time...I sucked it up (heh) and did it (more heh)."

Ultimately, she's too weak, her daddy too weak-willed and rich, and western civilization takes another lurching step towards oblivion...

Ugh...

Roundtable: Intergalactic Planetary, Planetary Intergalactic

2007-06-07T22:32:00.000-07:00

Remember how in the beginning of the movie Contact* there was a satellite that was playing an endless loop of greetings and music and stuff?

Well, it's real (here's the playing list), and after 30 years, Stephen V. Funk, III Esq. MD, PhD, BVD, ESP, thinks that it isn't working.

He proposes to create a new mix to send to outer space, and is taking suggestions now (final results to be displayed on Monday). I made a couple of suggestions that I'll regret in about a minute, and now want to suggest something like the Overture from Jesus Christ Superstar (or at least, a particularly rocking version of that), or Aha's Take On Me...Ace of Base's I Saw The Sign?

Maybe I only crack myself up on this one. Ah well.

Go give him your suggestions, or the aliens will eat your mama!

*talk about a movie that's both boring and pretty worthwhile--tbo

Pettiness Becomes Me

2007-06-03T01:16:00.000-07:00

I'm a little hesitant in writing this post. Mostly because I believe that it'll come across as whining when I'm simply getting things out of my head.

Also, this is about an upcoming project that I'm working on. I know that some of the folks responsible for producing this project check in here every once in a while, and I want to state up front that this is merely me processing...I'm still enthusiastic about the project (which, like the theater company involved, will remain unnamed, thanks to google), and I am genuinely looking forward to working with the folks involved...

With that out of the way, I have to confess, I've been harboring feelings of pettiness. Part of being an actor, I suppose.

I was passed up for the lead in an upcoming production. The part: A latin american author, in his late 20s (which'd make me a bit too old for it, I'm assuming), who left his homeland at an early age, and after becoming a successful author in the US, will be going home for the first time in over a decade and a half. The various personal dynamics involved in his homecoming are dealt with rather realistically, and well, by the playwright.

Old school readers will recognize why this story has some resonance with me.

But, I didn't get it. Instead they cast a man of Danish descent in the part. I wish I were kidding. I have some reservations about whether he actually looks latin american enough, but that may be the cloud of pettiness skewing my views. Fortunately, dialect coaches will take care of some other issues I have about it all.

However narrow-minded this may paint me, there's a part of me that wonders if this isn't a natural response for an artist (if I may call myself that for the purposes of this entry).

I think of it this way: Let's suppose that Raul Julia had been auditioning to be Tony Montana in Scarface, and he really wanted the part. How would he feel when he found out that he was passed up so that Italian-American Al Pacino would get the part? (Let us set aside the typical arguments about Hollywood casting, and needing certain names for projects to get produced for the moment.)

Take a look at the cast list for Scarface. In my hypothetical situation, how on earth could Raul Julia not get cast as a latino, and yet there's F. Murray Abraham, Robert Loggia, hell, even some dude named Steven Bauer got cast as a latino named Manny Ribera for pete's sake, and he gets second billing!

Could you imagine theoretical Julia's reaction to hearing Pacino's accent in that movie? "Motherfucker ain't even Mexican," would be one of the recurring thoughts, I'm betting.

So, anyway, I'm owning up to the pettiness, and accepting it as part of what I'm about.

Today was the first read-through for the piece, and it was fun and it promises to be a great show all around. I will say that it was revelatory for me to just say that I felt a kinship with the lead's story aloud, in front of the director, playwright, and the already informed Artistic Director.

Hopefully no one felt discomfort at that statement, but if they did, oh well. Part of the deal, I'm sorry. So are the occasional "wait a second, you're Danish! I can tell!" jokes I'll be making during the rehearsal process. Having fun with it is the only way I'm going to be able to deal and not let resentment overtake me.

That and the constant reminder that I'm not directing, am simply an actor in the piece, and I did say yes, after all.

Fucking UStians.

B. Jones: The Birth of a Superstar

2007-06-01T23:22:00.000-07:00

So, I'm watching the NBA.com recap of the Game 5 Eastern Conference Finals (where Lebron James scored 48 points to give the Cavaliers a 3-2 edge over the Pistons), when the inevitable happened: An announcer said, "this is Jordanesque."

Granted, sports announcers are given to hyperbole, I know; but James has been nascent for the last couple of seasons, and particularly in the spotlight of late because of a much talked about last second decision that cost the Cavs the first game of the series.

So, "Jordanesque."

Not sure if I have talked about this before, but I hate the superstar mentality of the NBA that Michael Jordan helped to usher in. That's a rant best saved for later. Suffice it to say that one of the reasons I like the Pistons, is that they used teamwork to not only beat the Lakers a number of years back, but also to win their subsequent championships...

Needless to say, this has some poignancy for me. I like Lebron James. He's been a hard worker, hasn't been an arrogant son of a bitch, has improved his team. I had him on my fantasy team this year, and he essentially carried my team through a series of moves to a fourth place finish...

So, I want him to win, but at what cost?

This is made all the more confusing by the fact that the NBA made it possible for the Spurs to use dirty play to get to the finals...

Oh, what's a fanboy to do?

Roundtable: Western Consumer Blues

2007-05-31T17:34:00.000-07:00

Or: BANU BANU!

For this week's Roundtable, Atul muses on something I believe to be a problem strictly for UStians: Stuff bought, and not used (or BANU), therefore taking up space in one's life. Particularly if one is a pack rat (which Atul professes to be, and which I must own up to a large amount).

Seems like most people tend to weed out such things when moving from one domicile to another; but I must confess to liking what I noticed the Germans doing, when I lived there: Junk Day.

Can't remember how often this happened during the year, but whenever it happened, families would place whatever possessions they didn't wish to own anymore out on the curb, leaving it to the general public to stop by, peruse, and take, if so desired. Also can't remember what happened to items not picked up...It's been a while.

Tell the group what crap you can't get rid of, whether out of consumer guilt, or emotional attachment.

Flashback: Hey, What About The Froog?

2007-05-30T16:57:00.000-07:00

So, I was in the process of the ever ongoing Earworm War with Mynxie, when she brought up Ray Charles' "What'd I Say?", and a flood of memories came my way...

Before you hit play on the YouTube display below, I want you to imagine the big 'fro'ed, 10yr. old me (I looked a little older than the kid pictured here), freshly moved to the US, with a basic understanding of English, sitting down and watching the Blues Brothers in the theater.

At this point in the movie, Jake got out, they met the nun, chatted with Cab Calloway, visited James Brown's church, likely got chased by the cops, and have started putting the band back together (I think after the restaurant scene). And then...

Fascinating Trivia

2007-05-25T13:09:00.000-07:00

So, I'm reading Kaufman, who is talking about listening to famed baseball announcer Ernie Harwell, and I come across this bit:

The last team to do radio re-creations of road games was the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1951. Harwell, who did re-creations for the minor-league Atlanta Crackers in the '40s, said he smacked a ruler on the table to make the sound of the ball hitting the bat. "Different guys had different things," he said. "Some people had very involved recordings with cheers on them and things like that."
--King Kaufman, Salon.com

The Atlanta Crackers? Goddamn if that isn't a better team name than the fuckin' Atlanta Braves! Someone better get on this, and fast!

I want a commemorative jersey!

B. Jones: Sobering Up

2007-05-24T20:38:00.000-07:00

Oh, god. It's so much worse than I thought...(via Enjoy.)

Wait, uhoh...DTs. Crap, no it isn't (third paragraph from bottom).

I need a gin bath, now. Or sleep.

Roundtable: Woman! Wo. Man. WoooooooMAN!

2007-05-24T19:46:00.000-07:00

ectoplasm in the jim jam
i doth wonder who it's fram
but please don't take my orange dram
it's already filled with cheese

Diff'rent Links For Diff'rent Folks

2007-05-23T20:28:00.000-07:00

Not content with simply leaving a place holder, I, instead, supply you with links to items that have struck my fancy:

Okay, if you've been reading this blog, and still are unfamiliar with Salon's expansive reach; well, wake up Chachi! Yeah, Slate's pretty similar, and Fray, their online community, is pretty well-established; I just don't go in for their style...besides, my limited time keeps me from stepping into the Fray...

Anyway, do me a favor: Read Gary Kamiya's brutally honest dissection of why the US is currently not ready to impeach what is easily the most deceitful president in the US' young history...Once you've done that, forward the link to anyone you know, including some of your favorite right-wing nutjobs. Give 'em fits, whydoncha?

Next up, a screed defending ABC's Lost against those "gimme now" types that make up the UStian viewing public.

See, from soul-damning critiques of the nation, to justifying a particular TV viewing habit, Salon's got it all. Hell, it even pointed me to folks who think like I do about where the next set of terrorists will come from.

Moving away from Salon, and to matters a bit more...heady: Joss Whedon, geek extraordinaire and TV medium revolutionary (better than "TV terrorist" I s'pose) delivers one hell of a rant, regarding our world's deeming of women's worth. I only disagree with the point he makes about the various religions out there. I can think of one exception to his rule.

But that's another entry. Hell, that's another blog.

Next entry: JJ's right, an old friend drops by.

B. Jones: Hello? Hey, Douschebags!

2007-05-23T20:03:00.000-07:00

[TBO's Note: Upon hearing that the Sonics drew the Number Two slot in the upcoming draft, I had to look for Missives-friend B. Jones to get his take on the matter. I finally found him huddled in a fetal position in a corner of the room he was occupying. What follows are, in essence, his thoughts.--tbo]

whoop-dee-doo, Sonics got number two. Finally, they're getting what their fans have been getting over the last three years.

[garbled speech]...bet everyone's all, "this is great news for the beleaguered Sonics, yadda fuggin' yadda, wank wank wank." Won't do us any fuggin' good, will it? All it really means is that we were shitty enough this last season to get into the lottery system. There's something to be proud of.

Anyway, whaddayawanna bet that instead of going for someone good, like an Oden or a Durant, they're gonna go get yet another skinny beanpole, likely of African descent, outta France? You know, another "young talent, with big man potential."

Huh? You don't think that'll happen? LOOK AT THE LAST FIVE YEARS!

[garbled]uckin' McIlvayne...WORST STRING OF OWNERSHIP SINCE...Seahawks...Early Red Sox...Selig.

Oh, but, wait wait...wait a second. I forget. Lemme ask you: Do they have anyone lined up to coach the team next year? Hell, fuck that thought for a second, what about a General Manager to, I don't know, lead the team through the hiring of the coach, get them through the draft, try to keep Rashard Lewis, or at least trade him for something good, or, I dunno, guide the goddamn team through the various minefields they have ahead of them in the coming months...Who do they have? NOBODY, THAT'S FUGGIN' WHO!

Hey, Lenny, get on the fuggin' ball, y'asshole! And hey, I remember your record with the Hawks, so thanks for that first trophy, but don't even think about it, all right? You feel me?

Who the fuck wants to sign with the Sonics anymore? "Hi, hello, hey, yeah, we're a bunch of douschebags from a city of equivocating douschebags...In the next five years, you could end up in Las Vegas, Kansas City, or Oklahoma City...do you really want to live in any of these places? I mean, we could get you bling in Vegas, but that place is played out if you're living there. Besides, we can't afford to pay you more than $4million a year, so...here, talk to the Blazers."

MUHFUGGIN SONICS! I'VE GIVEN YOU MY HEART, MY MONEY, MY TIME, MY LOYALTY, AND THIS IS HOW YOU PAY ME BACK? BIGGEST POOL OF UNUSED TALENT AND POTENTIAL SINCE BRETT RATTNER'S XMEN 3!

GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK GIVE ME MY LIF----zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
-------

Riveting, isn't it?--tbo

Roundtable: Thin Line Between Love & Hate

2007-05-17T13:41:00.001-07:00

At least, that's what I want to say to Deni, because, if nothing else, it'd shine a new light on his obsessions and may even throw him into a tizzy.

Okay, probably not...well, not at all likely. Really, I'm dreaming.

In this week's Roundtable entry, Deni muses on hate. Can there be positive attributes to hate? Are there good/bad forms of hate? (Actually, he argues that there are.) Finally, he wants to know what/who you hate.

Ah, Deni...He's an old friend of mine, and yes, I can tell you from experience: He's a cantankerous son of a bitch (which is obviously jake with me; check out the comments field in my last two entries for proof*).

What I love about him, though, is that there's no pretense. You wanna know where Deni stands on something? Ask him and he'll tell you. And how. And there's no masking his thoughts for social concerns; he'll call your bullshit even if you are his father-in-law and have a gun pointed to his head.

The best thing, though, is disagreeing with him. Especially when he's off his nut (check out the comments in this entry).

What was my point? Oh, yeah! Go to his site, and get your hate on!

*I kid, JJ, I kid!--tbo

No Comfort Zone, Please

2007-05-16T20:40:00.000-07:00

Great OpEd piece by Thomas Friedman in the NYTimes (I'd link, but it's currently a subscriber-only feature. Will update, if possible). In it, he compares the weeding out of possible Democrats in the Department of Justice that has led to the current Senate Hearings with Alberto "Who Am I?" Gonzales, with the White House's failed attempts to avoid a similar weeding out of Baathists which has led to Sunni unrest in Iraq.

So, I'm reading, and agreeing, and enjoying the clever compare/contrast when I read this bit:

Democrats need to be careful, though, that they don't let their rage with the hypocrisy of Mr. Bush make them totally crazy, and blind them to the fact that they - we - still need a credible plan to deal with the very real threat to open societies posed by Islamist terrorism. [emphasis mine - TBO]

For the love of Mike.

All right, General Populace, quiz time: Q: Before 9/11, who was responsible for the biggest terrorist event to take place on US soil? A: Timothy McVeigh, a UStian with ties to a UStian militia.

Listen, I grok what Friedman is saying, but, in typical UStian over-reactive fashion, the language used indicates that the populace should only look for this threat from this one corner of the world. As if only these people would be crazy enough to resort to terrorism.

Granted, these are the vestiges of the culture of fear we've been living under for the majority of the last decade, and hopefully, we're seeing the last of it, but, if history's anything to go by, it ain't likely.

Please allow me to reiterate: Terrorism is a fact of life. The human race has been dealing with it since the dawn of time (remember, the man Jesus could be classified as such). Do we have to like it? No. Should we do as much as possible to be prepared? Hell yes, within reason.

The sooner we embrace the notion, however, the sooner we can lead normal lives without perpetual fear, and the less likely our emotions could be swayed into doing something foolish, like the current war.*

S'a'right? S'a'right.

*Or, hell, anything the current administration has gotten away with in the name of "protecting our nation's interests."
---------------
[Edited to add: Apparently, Friedman is a hack. I had no idea; I just took the piece being commented on as a compare/contrast at face value. Hi ho.--tbo]

C'Mon, TBO, Aren't You A Little Too Paranoid?

2007-05-14T23:07:00.000-07:00

Yeah, you'd think...But then again, is it really paranoia when you have reason to be?

Glenn Greenwald agrees with me. The (real) journalists at Frontline seem to be on my side too:

I know I'll be watching...

Roundtable: Shut Your Brain Off

2007-05-10T21:59:00.000-07:00

Life's getting busy again, and it's at points like this that I have to find something to take the edge off...Not just a beer, or booze, or whatever else you'd use to dull the senses a little.

I'm talking about the little things you do in conjunction to the mood altering devices mentioned above; whether it's a ball game on the TV, or a good book, or a jazz album, bad reality crapola...whatever.

Yeah, given my generation, the TV's been my little methadone dispenser. Lately, for me it has been netflixing through some TV shows (currently, The Wire and Homicide: Life on the Streets - which is remedial The Wire, anyway)...before that it was the Joss Whedonverse, the Game Show Network's Black and White Overnight block.

But the pure stuff? Sesame Street. The pure 70s - early 80s, pre-Elmo stuff. I had found this on the cable a number of years back, airing from 1a - 3a (who're they playing it for? There's no kids awake at that time)...It's like stepping into a warm little cocoon and regressing to an age where stuff just isn't important. No matter how stressed I was before watching an episode, I'd sleep like a baby after it was done.

What are your escapes from reality? What do you do, where do you go, do you go alone, or with friends?

RIP - Howard Bulson

2007-05-07T18:42:00.000-07:00

(Tip o'the keyboard to Chris Comte, who has written a lovely eulogy himself.)

Wow...Outside of JP Patches, I can't imagine a bigger Seattle legend than Howard Bulson, may he rest in peace.

Unlike Patches, though, I believe that Howard has been a bit more prevalent in people's minds in recent years. He was the fixture in many a circle. He worked as an accompanyist at the renowned dive Sorry Charlie's, and was one of the friendliest...personages I'd met in town.

I was, by no means, a regular to his event (especially in the latter years, since Sorry Charlie's closure), but whenever I showed up, either for a birthday or some other celebratory event, he remembered that I did a rendition of "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" in Spanish that he liked to hear. Bless the poor lad, what he endured for a bit of untranslated lyricism.

His death will likely affect others a bit more deeply than it did for me (Marty, Karen, and Lisa come to mind), but this doesn't mean I didn't respect the man.

Cheers, Sir. In a town that could exponentially afford more characters like yourself, you are severely missed already.

EDITED TO ADD: Good friend Skot also eulogizes Mr. Bulson rather well.

Roundtable: Regret's Bitter Taste

2007-05-03T21:00:00.000-07:00

The perpetually peevish Carol wonders about our regrets...What are the specific moments in your life that you seriously wish you could take back?

Considering that I prefer to block those moments from my mind, generally, I'm having a tough time coming up with something, but there are a few instances of other's regret that I sometimes remember fondly...

Scene: After party at Theater Schmeater. I'm shooting the breeze with this woman I'd just met, and another actor approaches her, and they have one of those brief shop-related talks, and he asks her what she's up to. She replies that she's about to direct an outdoor production of some Shakespeare play or another, and, after determining the size of the job, I ask her how she's feeling about it.

"Oh, I'm fine right now...Whatever the case, at least I know that it'll be better than that production of Volpone that the Schmee did last year. Ye gods, that was bad." She laughs. "Do you guys know who directed that?"

I raise my hand, "'twas me."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, I..." she trailed off, and gave up. We all laughed.

Anyway...©

You know the deal, go over there, read of the misfortunes of others, and if the spirit moves you, fess up to your own regretful moments.

Roundtable: Please Go Changin'

2007-04-26T15:19:00.000-07:00

Life has been a little crazy for our dog-loving, theater-slinging, gal-about-home Suzanne, who spends her days Perfecting the Fine Art of Procrastination.

Makes her wish for a change, any kind of change. Wants to know what kind of changes you'd make in your life...

You wanna know what I'd change? I'd change it so that I'd shown up to the prom wearing a proper goddamn tuxedo, that's what I'd change! My life went to hell ever since that moment 67 years ago...oh, the pain, the humiliation...

go tell her what you'd change, while I go drink the memories away.

Discipline v. Abuse

2007-04-25T23:05:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, Salon, while there are days where your offerings are kinda stale and boring. Then, there are other days, like today, where you provide fertile nourishment for the brain. For example, the latest in Glenn Greenwald's series of media excoriations came out today.

What really got me going, though, was the essay from Heather Havrilesky (aka Polly Esther)...I was worried that after getting married, then having a baby, that Ms. Havrilesky's writing wouldn't be as cutting as it once was. That fear was allayed for a while, but today's essay (about the latest crapscandal involving Alec Baldwyn calling his daughter a rude pig) put it to rest.

I think she has a valid point (I say this as a childless single person, and fully prepared to get a bunch of responses about not knowing what the hell I'm talking about, and one about Havrilesky building a strawman to make her point)...

The question is, in this day of the nanny-state, are we becoming too worried about how parents communicate with their offspring? What is considered abuse? Keep in mind that, as Havrilesky points out, that the effect of all of this handwringing does not decrease the number of hooligans and bullies in the world. Also note that she makes a distinction between calling your kid a "worthless piece of shit" and a "rude, thoughtless little pig;" just as there's a difference between a spanking, and beating your kid with a racquet.

Anyway, curious what y'all have to say on this.

"Yield:" An Amazing Race Rant

2007-04-23T19:54:00.000-07:00

Possible Spoiler Warning!!! If nothing else, a ton of talk about The Amazing Race!!! You've been warned!!!

Hopefully that'll thin this out to the handful of people who read my blog and watch TAR...

Maybe you're like me, and you watch this show every time it's on. Maybe this is your first season, maybe it's your 11th, just like it is mine.

Regardless of where you are in this continuum, it seems pretty unanimous: The Yield Sucks. More importantly, teams on the show whining about the Yield, whether they've been subject to it or not, sucks hippo dick.

Personally, I've never been a fan of the fucking thing, and in this "all star" season, the whining has reached levels hitherto unexplored.

For those who didn't know, the Yield option was not part of the original show concept. In fact, for the first 4-5 seasons, all that was in place was a fast forward option at every leg. This was truly a good thing, because if two teams decided to go for it, there was pressure to make sure you did the task a) correctly the first time, and b) faster than the other team. If you failed at either one, you'd be screwed for time, and had to scramble back and do everything. Some teams overcame this hurdle with flying colors.

Then, the Rob and Amber season happened, and that was when the Yield, along with the "give us your clothes and your money" non-elimination rule (which, thankfully, no longer exists. All it did was force people to beg. Watching priviledged UStians begging on the streets of Calcutta isn't as much fun as it sounds), was introduced.

Simply, you reach a point in any given leg, and you're given the option to delay a team behind you an unspecified amount of time (from 15 minutes to 45 or so), giving you a cushion of time to get farther than this other team.

As if racing internationally isn't enough of a stress factor, or the possibility of having yourself not understood, or getting lost on your own...No, that's not enough, now you have other teams trying to screw you over to contend with. As a means of creating conflict out of whole cloth, it works. But is it necessary? I'd argue not.

Here's the thing: As much as I hate it, it's an officially sponsored rule, so it's part of the game. A sort of "go directly to jail, do not pass go" thing.

Does that stop the whining? No. What's worse is the hippocritical stance that if another team does it to you, then that team's character is now obviously in question (as opposed to if you got to it first, and doled it out to another team, you're just trying to play the game). One of the current contestants invoked some bullshit called "Yield Karma" a couple of weeks ago. It's annoying, I tell you.

Yesterday's episode introduced a new wrinkle to the "Yield" aspect.

Danny & Oswald (aka, Team Chacha, my hope for the eventual winner) found themselves in a dilemna: They were quickly running out of money, they were first to the next challenge, and the other team with them (Dustin & Kandice, aka The Beauty Queens, aka BQs) had already used the Yield. Meaning that Chachacha could use the Yield on the BQs, but not vice versa.

Chacha did a very clever thing: Offered the use of the Yield in return for money. The implied threat was that if the BQs didn't comply, the Yield would be used on them. BQs thought this over, and wisely offered $45 dollars (Chacha should've haggled) to have the Yield used on Eric & Danielle (aka Team The Frat and the Pink - she's one of those - aka, Frink). Frink had already been subject to the BQs Yield, this'd be the second time they'd been Yielded this season.

Chacha accepted, and deal went down like they'd negotiated, and then all kinds of stupid shit started happening: Charla & Mirna (aka Chmirna) became all self-righteous (there's a whole other entry dedicated to the annoyance that Chmirna represents, but I'll let someone else take that assignment); the BQs behaved as if they weren't behind the notion of yielding Frink; Frink offered a ton of violence visited upon Chacha...

It was how Chacha reacted to their own actions that rankled the most...Instead of just taking the money and dealing with their act as one borne of necessity, they put on the biggest display of LatinoAmerican Catholic guilt ever seen since...hell, you think of something.

They became whiny, self-abusive, and really bitchy at each other. They made poor decisions, like keeping their lousy cabby even though he'd repeatedly screwed them over. They didn't get directions to places they were going. All in all, they did the very opposite of things that made them one of my favorite teams ever.

Do you know what they blamed? "Yield Karma." Which is bullshit, at least under the terms they believe the concept of karma to operate. First of all, because the Yield is a part of the game, this is a competition, after all, so there is nothing inherently wrong in deciding to profit from it. That act, in the parlance of Buddhism, becomes a neutral external stimulus. It just is, neither good or bad.

Chacha's karma comes in how they reacted to the event (and please, this is greatly simplified for this discussion, so don't come a-pickin at me if you take issue...This is pointedly not in my Buddhist blog). They could've just sailed through the rest of the day, instead, they became bogged down in negativity.

Whose fault is that?

Chacha ended up not getting eliminated, thank the gods, and in the episode's exit interviews, their attitude bespoke of a decision that they'd already paid that "karmic tab." Good, I hope they're serious and recover.

The fact remains that the stupid manipulative rule upsets me enough to put this much fucking thought into it, though.

Perhaps that's the most annoying thing of all.

Allow Me To Step Aside...

2007-04-20T12:56:00.000-07:00

I generally don't write about national calamities like the one from this past week...Not unless it affects me directly, or some boob (like the Chimp in Charge) comes up and does/says something so head-jarringly moronic that something must be said (and even this depends on the occasion. Gods know I could've said something after the CIC decided to comment on the right to bear arms not even 4 hours after it all went down).

I do, however, look for the comments from those who may have been even tangentially involved in such events. This time, I didn't need to look far...

Egg's a dear friend, and current co-worker, who happens to have VT as her alma mater, and on her blog, you get a sense of how we as human beings tend to deal with calamities of this nature, from avoidance, to shock, to, well, ruminative (I giggle with glee over one of the revelations).

Check it out; scroll down to the entry from 4/16, and immerse.

Brain Cancer I Can Deal With

2007-04-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

The deforestation of the planet? Yeah, not so much.

Sadly, we're probably gonna have to wait until the new Prez takes over before we can find out more about this.

I sense a "Why did I give in to you motherfuckers?" post coming from Deni.

Roundtable: Me First! Gimme Gimme!

2007-04-19T20:41:00.000-07:00

Or: The US is the Terrell Owens of the World

I agree with Steph, the Incurable Insomniac, the US, as a whole, has the mind and attitude of an adolescent jock-bully. You know the kind. Aggro, always bragging about the football team, regardless of their record, and as likely to kick your ass as spit on you.

That's the bad news. The good news is that we've yet to reach the point where we turn into overweight, balding, used-car salesmen. We could still become that earnest, "ah-shucks" boy next door who knows how to party. Or that kinda quiet really cool guy who's in a band and knows a whole bunch of pointless movie trivia...

Okay, not likely, but we can dream.

Do you agree with this characterization? Do you try to keep up with the Jones'? How exactly did we become this way? Tell it to the Steph.

I'm Glad Someone's Noticing

2007-04-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

After being derided, or, at least, looked at askance whenever I get on my soapbox about the UStian government invading its citizens' privacy at an alarming rate, it is refreshing to see that some people with credentials are noticing the same things I am.

Someday the skeptics will listen.

SOYLENT GREEN IS MADE OF PEOPLE! IT'S PEEEEOOOPLEEE!

Roundtable: (x + Brick Wall)Cannon = Kersplat! x = ?

2007-04-12T19:28:00.000-07:00

It's pretty easy, really: Joe suffers from Tyra Banks overload, Banks goes into a cannon aimed at a brick wall. Boom, kersplat.

Who would you place in the cannon?

RIP - Kurt Vonnegut

2007-04-12T10:49:00.001-07:00

Hi ho.

1) Adrift

2007-04-05T22:39:00.000-07:00

The other extreme to being cosmically busy, is, of course, the doldrums of "I've got nothing to do."

Madness seeps in; due to the fact that you're home earlier than usual, you start going stir crazy; the usually benign roommate becomes the target of aggravation that is made up of whole cloth.*

"Aren't I supposed to be..." The thought dies out. This is how you end up taking whatever project comes down the pike, regardless of quality. You string up enough projects taken out of desperation, next thing you know, it's seven years later, and you've nothing to really show for it, except a killer rep and more fodder for the resume.

You buy new music to fill the void. You queue up just under 400 movies to be delivered to you. You watch back to back episodes of The Wire because, simply, you can.

*Well, that and, really, you shouldn't be living with anyone who's not romantically involved.

2) Le Dives

2007-04-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

It helps to have a back up routine, one that you can fall back on once the rehearsals are over...You get done with work, why not grab a beer?

Maybe catch a game while you're at it. Maybe flirt with the bartender, if she's cute and amenable. If not, shoot the shit with the guy bartender, and the other regulars lined up at the bar.

Maybe one of the regulars is carrying some merchandise with him, and if that's the case, you just step out and around the corner. Twenty minutes later, you're ready for whatever the evening will bring to you.

And if that bar happens to be a dive? All the better.

Yuppies and meat market monkeys have no appreciation for the dive bar. It's really simple: You don't go there to flirt, you don't go there to shmooze, you don't go there because the latest local It band will be playing. No, you go there because everyone else there just wants to hang out, drink (or just get drunk), and do nothing but talk bullshit with other like minded individuals.

I love dive bars. Sadly, they are a dying breed here in the town of Sea.

For the last ten years, old, funky, charming portions of town have been developed in much the same manner Joan Rivers gets facelifts. Yeah, yeah, it's progress and all that crap, but what these neighborhoods are being replaced with are nesting areas for the young and rich.

Does this town really need that many ugly faux-brick and glass monstrosities?

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about density. I've been ranting that this town needs to accept its impending big-city-dom, for eons now. But at this price? If you've ever been to the Fremont neighborhood before the year 2000, you wouldn't recognize what has become of that place now.

Right. Okay. One of the unfortunate side-effects of all this development is that the dive bars tend to evaporate along with the neighborhood. Businesses run on the model of catering to the local population usually have to deal with an unearthly drag in cash flow as the locals are forced to move.

It's not as if dive bars don't have enough challenges as it is.

The Nightlight had to adapt to the moneyed youths that were suddenly pouring into their place. The Frontier Room and the Rendezvous both remodeled for the same reason. The Family Affair (probably the standard for dive bars in Seattle) was forced to shut down due to the economic depression that took place in the aftermath of 9/11. Marsbar/Cafe Venus (which partially took over a dive bar legendary in the Punk scene: The Storeroom), remodeled. Hell, even Targy's, the only dive bar on top of Queen Anne Hill, remodeled and stopped serving swill. Jade Pagoda, gone. Ernie Steele's, aka Eileen's, gone. Sorry Charlie's, gone.

That's only a small sampling...

3) RIP - Lobo Saloon

2007-04-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

Now, those places that adapted are still open. Bully for them. Really, you can't blame the owners for deciding to make more money. It's understandable.

Witness the latest dive bar casualty: The Lobo. Established in 1972 (or 1974, depending on 1)who you talk to, and 2)their level of sobriety at the moment), The Lobo shut its doors for the final time on March 31st, 2007.

Yes, the neighborhood that surrounds it is changing drastically. Really, though, it was the smoking ban that killed the place dead.

Used to be (god, I'm old), you showed up at around 6:30 and the early evening crowd would be lingering on, and the switch to night crew was about to begin. This was my niche. The 'tween.

I'd come in, relax, and then get ready to do whatever was next on the agenda: date, rehearsal, performance, being an audience member, whatever.

Then came that fateful, cold, December night.

The effect on the Lobo was immediate. Weekday nights were barren of clientele. Bartenders who were once fairly busy, were now watching the M's lose in typically bored fashion. The cute women bartenders were replaced with increasingly humonculous males.

The Lobo didn't even make it 18 months after the ban was enacted.

The majority owner has been bought out, the new head (who has successfully turned a couple of other bars around) is turning it into a sports bar. The place will be named Victory, for pete's sake.

Will I still go? Likely. It's not like there's much they could do to the place, but still...I'm going to have to get used to a lot more "brah" from well intentioned frats/yuppies...

That is, unless I find some other place to go to.

Cherish the Canterbury. Cherish The Comet. The Streamline Tavern. Honeyhole. Bus Stop. REbar. The Zoo.

Yes, even cherish Targy's.

S'long, Lobo.

Roundtable: These Are The Days Of Miracle And Wonder

2007-04-05T19:17:00.000-07:00

Or at least, they're supposed to be...I mean, by this point in time, we're supposed to have cars that run on garbage, hovering skateboards, the beginnings of cyborg technology. That's on the happy end.

At the other extreme, it's a full on war between man and machine, with both parties able to travel back in time. Or a bunch of replicants running around with fake snakes.

But, nooooo! Instead, what do we have? SUVs, emoticons and sky-rocketing gas prices. Hell, we don't even have a decent Lasertag league. Wasn't Rollerball-madness supposed to take over the globe? What about giant space-bound fetuses?

Anyway...©

It seems that Mr. Stephen V. Funk, Esq. III, PhD, ASCAP, EMI, PDQ shares in this massive disappointment. What dreams were shattered for you when tomorrow turned out as bland as today?

Roundtable: And You Are?

2007-03-29T16:23:00.000-07:00

In a continuation of what has been a rather fascinating (if uber-meta) series of Roundtable entries, Metaphor Voodoo's Sereena X (no relation to Malcolm, I'm gonna bet) now asks, in typically glib fashion, "why should you be listened to, period?"

This, coming on the heels of RW's "What makes you think the people want your opinion?", and Atul's "what earns your respect?", is in reaction to a question that came from within the group a few weeks back: Considering the modern age's propensity for binary heated flame wars, are heavy topics best left untouched?

While we've yet to reach the core matter here, I find these tangentially related posts helpful. And today's entry has the added benefit of being funny, as Sereena challenges all and sundry to state their case in 50 words or less.

Quit being shy! Head over, read, and let your voice be heard, damn it!

Roundtable: Show Some Respect, Kid

2007-03-21T17:18:00.001-07:00

Atul, over at Things I've Noticed, wonders what your criteria is that helps you determine whether to give someone your respect.

I respect this forum too much to just come up with some pithy nonsense half-assedly, so, instead I'll give you the lyrics to the Staple Singers' Respect Yourself, as made popular by "Bruno", Bruce Willis' singing alter ego.

---------
If you disrespect everybody
That you run into
How in the world do you think
Anybody s'posed to respect you
If you dont give a heck about
The man with a bible in his hand
Just get out the way and let
The gentleman do his thing

You're the kind of gentleman
That wants everything their way
Take the sheet off your face boy
It's a brand new day

Chorus
Respect yourself
Respect yourself
If you don't respect yourself
Ain't nobody gonna give a good
Ca-hoot na na na oh oh
Respect yourself

If you're walking around thinking
That the world owes you something
'Cause you're here
You're going out the world backward
Like you did when you first came here
Keep talking about the president
Won't stop air pollution
Put your hand over your mouth
When you cough
That'll help the solution

You cuss around women folk
You don't even know their name
Then you're dumb enough to think
That it makes you a big ol' man

Chorus
Respect yourself
Respect yourself
If you don't respect yourself
Ain't nobody gonna give a good
Ca-hoot na na na oh oh
Respect yourself
-----------

Now, go talk to Atul.

RIP - Larry "Bud" Melman, aka Calvert Deforest

2007-03-21T16:39:00.000-07:00

Wow, 85 years old...I've always known him as Larry "Bud" Melman, and will continue to refer to him as such, and I mean absolutely no disrespect by this.

As you're probably aware, I'm a huge Letterman fan, and Melman was part and parcel with that package during the early years on NBC through to the beginning of Letterman's CBS run.

I loved the guy, mostly for his being so genuine. There was no way you could act the way Melman did, you couldn't put that on and be able to get away with it without winking to the audience. No, "Bud" was exactly who he was.

My favorite Melman series of moments took place when Letterman was still on NBC.

They'd gotten an RV and the first generation of video phones, and sent Melman on a trip from NYC down through Central America, South America, all the way to the tip of Peru. 'Round about Louisina, he started feeling homesick, and he made it mid-way through Mexico, before he begged to be brought back home.

Seriously, his reports were so depressed and melancholy by that time, you couldn't help but feel sorry even while you were laughing.

"It's not funny, David. I'm serious."

I wonder if Letterman will give a tribute this evening. Or whenever he returns.

Goodbye, sir, and thank you for your service in the name of entertainment.

*cheers*

Under Construction

2007-03-19T20:28:00.000-07:00

yeah, this li'l corner of the bloggiverse will be undergoing renovations over the next six months...A sort of expansion, if you will, an umbrella for this and a couple of the other blogs I'm writing (including an exclusive blog for the sports, so that my readers aren't "bothered" by anything I wish to write along those lines)...

It won't be happening overnight, it'll be a very slow process.

But, the reason I mention this is that one of the new features is already up and running!

Current Mixes

It so happens that quite regularly I get a hair up my ass, and I must create a new mix. Then would come the promises that I'd get them out to everybody, and well, you know, burning CDs can be kinda time consuming...next thing you know, it's months down the line, and only a handful of folks have received it, and the rest have blissfully forgotten about them.

No more!

Yup, I will be making the most recent of these available online, eventually...for the moment, however, I do have two new mixes to offer.

NOTE - These are .m4a files, which means that if you've got iTunes, you're golden. If you want them all mp3tastic, you'll need to convert them yourself...(Won't be an issue for long, however).

Driving Speed - Music for driving it like you stole it (either IRL or in VidGame Style)
MP3s
iTunes Friendly

Women v Men IV: Joe Luvvah Mix - Whether you're in the act of, or just thinking about trysts, try this on as a meager substitute for that old Al Green album you've played 180 times over.
iTunes Friendly

Plastic Continues To Suck

2007-03-16T19:30:00.000-07:00

Well, a lot has happened since I wrote this little screed; which turned out to be the last squealings of a particularly bratty mindset of mine.

Not that I've completely turned around on some of the rantings; hell, I still espouse a good number of those beliefs...It's just that I can't have 280 movies in my Netflix queue without a bank account. Thus far, I've kept the little spending monkey in check (it has been a few months since I joined the ranks of People Who Pretend To Be Grown Up).

It'll still be a few years before I start getting credit card applications in the mail (HA!), but if and when they start coming, I'll at least be able to read these thoughts several times over before I decide to cave in. Granted, this couldn't be more of an "if" situation if it tried.

I will also probably own a DVD copy of the movie discussed here, which goes a long way towards proving that my earlier rantings are not completely baseless. Give it a read, perhaps it'll give you the same sense of "no shit, Sherlock" I experienced.

What it doesn't address, however, are some of my more paranoid notions, and what is done with that information. Oh, well, there's still time, I guess.

Roundtable: Shut Up Shutting Up

2007-03-15T14:38:00.000-07:00

RW is apparently talking to you. Yeah, you!

Or, at least, those of you who like to go on and on about whatever it is you're pontificating on *cough*JJ*cough*.

RW wonders what the hell makes you think he'd be interested in your prattle. Seriously, you go on too much. At least, according to RW. Frankly, RW believes that the world would be a better place without your incessant and insipid input, okay?

What, you got a problem with that? Tell it to him.

Attention Music Bloviators

2007-03-14T12:45:00.000-07:00

PalDeni writes effusively about REM's induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

Which is all well and good, but right off the bat, dude starts casting aspersions over Radiohead's popularity and credibility as a music movement.

Well, you can guess how that goes over with me.

So, head on over there, and put your two cents in. Or start other fights, I'm sure Deni wouldn't mind.

Spring Forward Is Bullshit

2007-03-12T11:23:00.000-07:00

Why post something new, when I've said all there is to say about it:

You Know What? Fuck Ben Franklin!

So Ben Franklin's all: "blah blah blah, penny saved is a penny earned. all cats are grey in the dark, work will make you free, right? so check it, if we turn the clock back in spring, we get an extra hour of daylight for the farmers to work with. which is all kinds of cool because then they can work that much more during the summer, and then, in the fall, when it gets dark earlier, we can go back to normal, and aren't I smart, blahdefuckingblah."

Shut the fuck up, Ben Franklin. You're dead. Deader than Rob and Amber's chances of winning and Michael Richard's career...

What may have been a pretty smart idea nearly two-hundred years ago, is only proving goddamn annoying these days. Why do we keep up with this shit? It's largely unnecessary, especially because the modern age? No. Longer. Agrarian. For fuck's sake.

And don't talk to me about kids catching busses in the dark. Are you gonna tell me that those kids who are in areas sketchy enough to be worried about are going to be in any less danger when it's light out? Where are their parents anyway? Huh? Exactly.

Fuck Daylight Savings. Right in the ear.

Roundtable: "You Can Lead A Horticulture...

2007-03-07T00:49:00.000-08:00

...But you can't make her think." - Dorothy Parker, ORP (Original Roundtable Participant)

Yes, that's how Ms. Parker wanted to spell that word. She was asked to come up with a sentence using "horticulture" and...

Wait, this ain't no cultural lesson in events and personae that ran amok during the Flapper era in New York City, this is a plug for the latest Roundtable entry!

Right, so Deni, aka The Left Wing Nut, has soul-whoring on his mind, and he insists that we are all whores for, say, shopping at Walmart when we know their thriftiness is derived from the sweat of Laotian children hired for pennies per day. Here, he has a point, I believe. He also damns Michael Jordan for pimping himself out to McDonald's (for unhealthy eating), Nike (see child labor thing above), and Hane's (who wears tighty-whiteys anymore), and here I agree with him also. But then he gets into the gray area of unknown actors doing commercials for Westinghouse, and here things head into the gray zone...Well, for me, at least, not for Deni.

So, you know, head on over, read the bit, then speak your mind, y'all.

Roundtable: Celebrity Schadenfreude

2007-03-01T19:55:00.000-08:00

Down the hall from my office, and around the corner, there is a coffee bistro which does pretty regular business. As such, they have a little boom box, which is eternally tuned to the local "Warm/Breeze/Lite Jazz" station...Regular readers of the 'Sives (aka, Siveheads...kidding) will be familiar with my take on jazz fusion; namely, it's a bunch of crap and it is best to simply run away.

Having been here for about 2.5 years, though, I've gotten pretty adept at ignoring whatever is being piped out by this blandly offensive radio station. However, I do occasionally get sucked in; usually, whenever they play Santana's "Oye Como Va" with the bass replaced by a synth and the lyrics played by whatever has substituted the monstrosity known as Kenny G.

Or is it still him? Whatever.

Anyway...I'm heading out of my office to head outside, taking a little breather, got my nicogum working and...

I sink like a stone that's been tossed in the ocean
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion
Stop before you start
Be still my beating heart

Sting. At least it was from the last decent album this tantric putz put out, but this song is probably the first hint we got of where his career was gonna go.

Sting, man, you used to be the shit. The king of that whole jazz/ska/dub miasma The Police excelled in, and now what? You're the British Phil Collins (and yes, I know Collins is British, too...that's actually the point). Wotta waste.

Is this the natural order of things? Start out hot and then lose your soul for the max $$? Or is it that there is an internal "shark jumping" gene in our system?

Spade Cooley comes to mind, though this is a rather extreme example...Joan Crawford? Elvis, for sure, though his fan base would disagree.

Oh, I know! Paul McCartney* (long before that Pro-America pap from 9/11)! Mick Jagger (who else remembers the Harlem Shuffle?)!

Y'all probably thought this would be about the recent folderol involving the Spears, or the Smiths or summat. But y'know, these scandal-sheet items bore me (especially as I still want Hilton's head on a stick)...No no, give me Sean Young's brief stint as a promising starlet, or Val Kilmer's...whatever happened to Val Kilmer.

I'm sure I'm not alone with this preoccupation. What's yours?

*Strictly for the masochists: I dare you to sing The Wings "Silly Love Songs" during karaoke. The whole fuggin' thing.--TBO