let's all get the kool-aid ready

this is just about the dumbest printed letter-to-the-editor i have ever read. it comes from my beloved local lafayette daily advertiser - which itself isn't exactly a model of journalistic insight. but still, to print such a letter is deplorable. when you read sentiment such as this your opinion of people's social and interpersonal acumen really takes a dive, no matter how low it already was.

people like this are the reason i'm on so much medication these days. anyway, it's not long:


War is about who can last longest, kill most
August 31, 2004

I am outraged at how people have been saying negative things about the war in Iraq. People are saying that the number of U.S. troops killed is too high, and we should have pulled out. In WW II alone the U.S. had hundreds of thousands killed, and they’re whining about a few hundred?

The whole idea of war is who can last the longest and kill the most. I have sympathy for all families that may have lost a loved in Iraq, but freedom is not free — it’s earned. You fight for the right to be free. Freedom is why our troops are dying in Iraq, for their freedom.

Most of the media adds to the confusion by reporting heavily on things like casualties, car bombings and Bush-administration bashing. I am a firm believer that the media has a Left-based agenda.

I’m just saying they should give it a break. Support the troops and keep you mouth shut until the war is over. These are terrorists that “hate” America. You can’t reason or talk peace with them.

John Cramer
Maurice


i hear the american dollar goes pretty far in costa rica. anyone?

album of the jour: ken stringfellow soft commands

my previous post may have been a tad uncalled for. or maybe it was called for. whatever. i have to remind myself that as a liberal i have to tolerate others' opinions, no matter how assinine they may be.

big guns big dicks big oil: unaware and proud of it

for what seems like an eternity i have tried to harbor the utmost tolerance and respect towards those whose political allotment differs from mine, and in regards to republican ideology, i still do. i think that name-calling in any debate is totally uncalled for, which hopefully will iterate my frustration in the following post. it's just that the time has come:

if you vote for george w. bush this november, you are stupid.

every argument made on his behalf is easily refutable. i keep myself very updated on the issues being debated, and each candidate's stance, and on every possible defense of bush's policies and agendas i find serious, blatant fault. here are some examples of what bush said he would do and what the reality is:

"i'm a uniter not a divider" - the entire world hates us

"no child left behind" - education in turmoil, 40+ children per classroom. although an uneducated, easily-brainwashed population fits right in with their plans...

billions promised to new york after 9/11 - has payed a tiny fraction of funds promised, resisting every step of the way (but will gladly exploit the tragedy in political ads and the rnc backdrop)

"the vast majority of my tax cuts go to the middle class" - heavy tilt of tax breaks to top one percent

"i wanna be the peace president" <--> "i'm a war president" (some might consider this a flip-flop?)

iraqi oil money will go towards reconstruction - oil money going to no-bid contracts for haliburton, which can't seem to account for their expenses charged

"mission accomplished" - are you kidding?

"best economy in 20 years" - worst economy since hoover (depression of early 30's)

" will strengthen national security"- cut funding for police and fire departments, our seaports are totally open and vulnerable

i will create jobs - tax breaks to companis that outsource

pro-life - most executions of any state (tx) ever*

*despite republican control of the senate and the house, and a republican majority on the supreme court, he has not passed nor even attempted to pass legislation outlawing abortion. what say you christian right?

and concerning religion... i am certainly no theologian, but wouldn't sending kids off to die in a foreign war based on lies (oh, and oil, and a family vendetta) constitute a violation of the "thou shalt not kill/lie" commandments (also think of the executions)? i guess his particular sect of church allows him to pick and choose which principles to adhere to. evangelical christianity sounds great - gotta get me some of that. read tartuffe by moliere - striking correlation.

seriously, how many kicks to the head do people need before realizing that this administration is worse than nixon's? karl rove is a soulless devil, dick cheany is a robot whose sole goal is to make money, rumsfeld is incompetent and likes his big guns, ashcroft is a lawless tool, mcclellan is a shell-of-a-human-being mouthpiece, condoleeza's sole job is to explain the president's screw-ups, powell allowed himself to be used, and karen hughes is a pathetic wannabe (or maybe more like a loyal lapdog trying desperately to please her master for reflected glory). and laura bush, you are a brainless pacifist who would rather see women's rights revert to the times of the 50's than have them voice opinions - all about the subservience.

draft-dodging chicken-hawk war pimps one and all.

and do people not know that he has been on vacation forty percent of his presidency? how many of us get nearly that much time off from our own jobs?

john kerry is, of course, not perfect. he wouldn't have been my first choice as the party nominee. but he is figuratively (and literally) head and shoulders above bush in every possible way. in fact his integrity may lose him the election, since he takes the high road and refuses to hit back hard against lying advertisements (he wouldn't even have to lie in bush attack ads - just re-read dubya's record, it's pathetic in and of itself).

right now if you can't see how obviously contradictory everything that comes out of george's mouth is, then you are stupid. if you believe an obvious and baseless lie if it is repeated to you often enough, then you are stupid. and if you do not seek any knowledge beyond headlines and campaign ads and bumper stickers, then you are stupid. if you vote for bush because he is a republican and you value party loyalty, you are stupid (john mccain i'm sending bad vibes your way). and if you vote for bush in november, you'll get what you deserve.

unfortunately, everyone else will get what you deserve as well.

album of the jour: half cousin the function room

i just got home and read this article in the new york times. who's coming to canada with me? british columbia.... lots of weeeeed.. ?

got to go, hey hey, ho ho

watching the hundreds of thousands of people protesting peacefully in nyc is making me very jealous (there is great coverage on cspan). a little wish-i-was-there envy, you know.

that is one large free speech zone. it's nice to see that so many people aren't complete dullards and share a certain fervor for justice and peace. granted, it's new york, the bastion of liberalism, but still. and that just goes to show that the only reason new york city is playing host to the rnc is that the republican party wants to capitalize on the backdrop of the 9/11 attacks. shame shame shame.

it's such a close race right now. i have real concerns about the outcome. fight the good fight, i guess.

album of the jour: francine 40 on a fall day

the steps

always with the saturday night doldrums. i don't think i'll ever truly enjoy saturday nights until i move. there are several things i probably won't enjoy until i move. i've come to realize that i live in a black hole. every effort i make in a positive direction or ground i gain is just sapped by being here, in this house/neighborhood. but at least i am aware. maybe i should take an alcoholic's approach to my hermit lifestyle:

1. Admit you are powerless over alcohol, that your life has become unmanaageable.

gladly. i don't see what one has to do with the other though.

2 Believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity.

what, like pot?

3. Make a decision to turn your will and your life over to the care of God as you understand Him.

okay god, get me an apartment already youdammit.

4. Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of yourself.

a moral inventory? what does that even mean? i can do physical inventory - computer, fouton, desk.

5. Admit to God, to yourself, and to another human being the exact nature of your wrongs.

okay again, what? my wrongs are not... good... the nature of them is incorrectness, in that they are not... right.

6. Be ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

please god help me to stop spending money on aerosols and freon so i can move out.

7. Humbly ask Him to remove your shortcomings.

ummm, hey god... instead of removing my shortcoming how about makeing it a little longer? it will help me to spread the good news of your will.

8. Make a list of all persons you have harmed, and prepare to make amends with them all.

i want to make hay while i'm young here. don't think this step will work for me.

9. Make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

step nine is a time-saver. the people i have harmed would definitely injure me. maybe someday when i'm feeling especially masochistic i'll start trying to apologize.

10. Continue to take personal inventory and when you are wrong promptly admit it.

the fouton really isn't mine. it's my aunt's, but i have a feeling she is going to give it to me.

11. Seek to improve your conscious contract with God through prayer and meditation as you understand Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

i never sign contracts. this is bullshit.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, try to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all your affairs.

does ether count as alcohol? what about listerine? my friend fat jeff is a listerholic. it's a terrible habit, although his breath is nice. nevermind.

that didn't help at all. oddly enough i do feel like having a cocktail. i'll admit that alcohol is a higher power.

album of the jour: kristin hersh sky motel

put me back on hold please

i don't approve of outsourcing for it's economic rammifications (good for jobs? are you stoned?), but when i get an indian (dots not feathers) support representative from dell on the phone to do something as simple as ordering a replacement part and it takes me all fucking morning, i find a new reason to dislike outsourcing. i don't like having to ask for repititions of simple instructions because of pronunciation. it's not at all an ethnic issue. i love indians - i had a teacher who was indian and she was a delight. i just hate dell. dell is the devil. lou dobbs would have a field day trying to get tech support from dell.

and no, i don't watch cnn. i saw a discussion between dobbs and bill moyers on pbs. from what i can gather, he doesn't like outsourcing either.

and yes, that was a truly enthralling hour of tv viewing. i must have been high on magic markers.

album of the jour: four tet my angel rocks back and forth

motherfucker burn

sometimes i get into such a state of fury that i truly believe i have pyrokinetic abilities, not unlike drew berrymore circa 1984. like while stuck behind a pickup truck that is straddling two lanes trying to decide where to go, holding up the already congested traffic behind. and, not surprising, a bush/cheany '04 bumper sticker in tow.

this man started a fire. more specifically, he lit a marine van on fire after learning his son had died in iraq. greatest country in the world.



album of the jour: all girl summer fun band 2

the power of espn compels you

a sports magazine came in the mail for me. not really a sports magazine, but an advertisement made up to look like a sports magazine that tries to sell other sports magazines. i stared at the cover on the way to work, since my only other option is to stare at bad, short-sighted drivers, and that's not good for anyone. but this magazine has ruined my entire life. sports, and marketing, and cheap flimsy paper, and insterts falling out, and polls and rankings... i think of those whose lives revolve around games, or covering games, or bookies, or specifically making time to watch sports on tv, and i sink. my day is totally shot. pro sports make me intestinally uneasy.

and the money! my god, the money!

i'm hoping that by ceremoniously tearing every page of this magazine into tiny pieces and maybe scattering them into the wind i will have vanquished whatever sinister forces may be at work here (i need an old priest and gabriel byrne). or if it's raining i'll just flush them. or eat them.

trite things really can cause me fits. this sounds overly-dramatic, but there it is. it fits in more with my emotional instability, or the imbalanced conceptions of the world i harbor. whichever works for you.

i should mention i don't disapprove of people liking sports or playing for fun, i just hate the money involved. and all the bling bling (i'm going to get a panda from china and name it bling-bling).

album du jour: freezepop fancy ultra-fresh

postscript to previous post:

i was thinking of raising sheep on my remote property in the wooded northwest (in the movie angela's ashes the kids masturbate while watching sheep... but that has nothing to do with anything. seriously. i don't do that.), but since sheep are ostensibly what's driving me to evade civilization in the first place, i'll leave the metaphoric in the past.

also: bush and kerry are statistically tied in houston, tx

or, life in the woods

i'm seriously losing faith in everything. especially people. to be accurate i had little to begin with, but the more i read of current events the more i want to move to the woods walden-style (derived lesson: don't read anything). the older i get the more blatent people's inadequacies become. inadequacies may be the wrong word - i'm talking more about ignorance and gullibility and complacency and undiagnosed retardation.

think for yourselves you god-damned robot motherfuckers!

hey, since we believe everything without questioning face value, guess what - i crap diamonds. that's right. they're small, smelly, brown, soft, mis-shaped diamonds, but they're definitely diamonds. i'm selling them for $100 apiece. get them while they're hot. best economy in twenty years. hollla.

so yeah, i'm moving to the woods in the pacific northwest somewhere. i would have a garden and eat only what i grow, and raise pigs. not for food, just for company. i could also grow poppies and hemp to keep myself entertained. maybe cultivate mushrooms for night-time fun in the woods by myself, with the pigs.

album du jour: the apples in stereo her wallpaper reverie

create a caption

some caption-creating fun, fun for everyone. my suggestions: "derp?" -or- "what'm i doin' hur?"

this morning that little ball on the end of my piercing fucking fell off. i spent half an hour trying to get that tiny motherfucker back on to no avail. i am calling that goddamned tattoo place tomorrow to tell them their shitty piercing stayed on for one fucking day.

i hate sundays.

i know i'm supposed to make sure it's tightened every day, and i tried. but how do y0u get any counter-pressure on the other side when there's all that saliva running around huh? fuck.

i was cool for exactly one day. story of my life.

i'm an atheist!

Which Enemy of the Christian Church Are You?

for the record, i am not an atheist. more of an agnostic and master of my own destiny. i believe in the irrepressible power of my testicles.

labret

i'm so used to waking up on saturday mornings (afternoons) hung over. it's a nice change to sleep late and actually feel alert even though it's not required.

yesterday during my lunch break i went and had my lip pierced (a labret is what it's called). it was aggravating waiting in the parlor about half an hour for a procedure that took maybe five minutes, but anyway. it didn't really hurt (aren't i such a man-man), it was just an odd sensation to have something forced through my lip. i am very much happy with it - i think it fits my persona (p-e-r-s-o-n-a).

i've thought about a tattoo but i can't commit to anything for more than a week, and having ink injected into my skin is waaaayy too permanent of a relationship. monogamous scarring.... not so much.

i would take a picture of my face to show off my barbell, but i'd rather opt for mystery. imagination is much more fulfilling than reality. maybe one day.

album du jour: jesus and mary chain honey's dead

our country needs a bitch-slap

while we eat drive-thru and talk on our cell phones and fret about the hilton sisters (ian i'm looking at you...) thousands of refugees from sudan, seeking sanctuary in chad from fear of being killed or raped or having their families killed or raped, scrounge for a handful of u.n.-supplied ground corn. and doesn't it look delicious.

you know what, that picture could be either of ground corn or people burying the dead (there was no caption). pick whichever makes it easier for you to sleep.

from the new york times:

Hawa Hassan Ahmed, 29, said she came to the Oure Cassoni camp after her mountain hideout in Northern Darfur was attacked by the Janjaweed. Her 6-year-old son was shot and killed before her eyes. Her 4-year-old son had his
throat slit. She escaped alone on a donkey provided by a cousin.

two points:

one - why little to no media coverage? could it be that our country's liberal, broken-heart media is more concerned with ratings than newsworthiness? it's understandable i guess; i'd personally rather see what's happening with the kobe bryant case than hear about mass genocide in some desert african country full of skinny darkies that has few petroleum resources.

two - we pull troops out of south korea, sending a clear message to north korea that their admitted and proven nuclear weapons stockpile doesn't concern us, and they should continue unfettered. does our government send these troop resources on humanitarian missions (not unlike wwII, maybe?) to help all the suffering people of sudan (as we did when we "liberated" the iraqi people from saddam)? nah. iraq has more political and financial rammifications. let's send troops there.

apparently "compassionate" conservatism doesn't apply to people of foreign naitons who aren't in the news. god must not care about the people of sudan, since he hasn't directed george to do thing one about it. i'm sure glad he's pro-life though. it really shows.

album du jour: saturday looks good to me every night

s'down kid we're runnin' late!

the school buses are slowly scampering around the streets and avenues once again. i despise school buses, because they impede my daily travels and also drudge up bad memories of high school. the only time i've ever punched someone in the face was on a school bus (mere lad of 13 - what a rabble rouser). when i lived in ohio my brother and i had to walk to the end of our endlessly long gravel driveway to wait for the bus in ten-degree weather, at 6:30 in the a.m., wind howling, and snow sometimes falling. even in such adverse conditions i loathed having to get on the bus, heated or not. screaming children are aggravating at any age, or so i find.

conversely, riding city buses is mildly entertaining. city bus drivers are some of the most interesting people you are likely to meet. they love small talk and are adept at striking up meaningless conversations with strangers. and you have to respect (or pity) someone who has the patience to drive the same route, over and over again, for however many hours, every day.

i just payed off all my credit card debt. three thousand bucks' worth of it, all at once. i had three grand in the bank and now i don't. do i feel bad about it? nope. not a bit. money is shit, unless of course you have none.
whatever, la la la.

album du jour: the casual dots casual dots

salvation is a yellow pill

hello yellow
you are vivarin
you are small
you taste bad
but you make me want to run and talk and breathe and stretch and dance and do calisthenics
and i'm not sleepy anymore
so we're cool

slow-mo

i took some xanax last night in addition to my usual cocktail and slept from 5:30 in the p.m. to ten-to-seven this morning. and i'm still slugging around like i have not the motor skills to do thing one. i don't even have real work to do yet - i'm the first in. the head will be meeting the desk very shortly. this is going to be a long umbassday. it already has been.

since i've got no motivation to keep my head vertical, that's it.

i didn't do one yesterday so you get two today:

album du jour: half cousin the function room

album du jour: graham smith final battle

depression age

why are artificial light and walls and carpeting and horiontal blinds stabbing at me today? what's so different? i'm getting nauseous just looking at my desk and monitor and pens and paper and sunlight and my own arms. i want to bite down on something and cause it pain, i want to push something really hard, i want to grab a tree limb and pull myself up, i want to head-butt anything.

i should be content, or if not content at least reasonably pleased. me being sad seems hypocritical - others in the world have so much to be sorrowful about and to rue and lament; by comparison i am a king. why then this routine sinking sensation of self-pity that flies in the face of what i believe and try to hold true? i have a bed, clohing, food, even a job, and a plethera of objects that have no intrinsic value to sustaining life (i.e. frivolous crap) but still i find myself awash in depression. every goddamned day. even despite all the pills n' thrills and bellyaches (name that band and win a cookie). maybe the pills should be eighty-sixed. i've taken them for so long i really can't recollect if my situation was better off prior or not. frankly i'm tired of turning my mental energy inward in the name of emotional health. i'm tired of being hyper-self-analytic. i want some numbness. where's that apathy my generation is supposed to suffer from? blissful ignorance where are you.

this all makes me enraged at myself. these are the times when i really loathe my person and get involved in self-deprecation. for fuck's sake already.

peaches for me

instead of free speech zones why don't we just set up "free peach zones"? who doesn't like peaches right? let's all move to the country and eat alot of them. and if you want to get figurative about it, the free peach zone could just be a big fenced-in area full of sluts. i would love to have a pen full of sluts in my neighborhood - jenna and barbara could be spokeswomen! although there is already a hooter's in lafayette. but i think the "slut pen" moniker has a better ring to it. you hear that ringing? that's freedom.

florida police are shaking down old black women in orlando for voter fraud. isn't jeb governor of florida? isn't that a swing state? don't blacks usually vote democrat? isn't jeb republican? if i were a suspicious person by nature i might be inclined to draw some sort of conclusion from the aforementioned tidbits (girls with tidbits are not allowed into the slut pen, by the way).

is "black" an appropriate race descriptor these days? african-american? noone is more supportive of acclimatization to racial sensitivity than i, but personally i think attitudes are exponentially more important than labels.

album du jour: the raveonettes whip it on

them ain't pop rocks

my aunt bought these little packets of energy powder crystals that you mix with water and then drink. my first thought when she showed it to me concerned whether or not it could be cut up with a credit card and snorted. that's not healthy or normal. maybe in l.a.

what else does it say that on the 30-second walk back from the grocery store on friday i opened my case of michelob ultra (i've succumbed to shunning carbohydrates) so i could start drinking en route chez moi? just some harmless rushing to lushing right? and i guess drinking a low-carb beer doesn't make much of a difference when you drink on or around eighteen, but it's the principle of the thing.

i just noticed my blog recently passed the one year mark. meh.

should i lament the fact that i couldn't give less of a fuck about the olympics? professional sports... whatever man.

album du jour: garageland do what you want

door-to-door rocking

you know it has to be friday the 13th when it's sixty-some-odd degrees outside in august in south louisiana.

a teenage kid just walked into the office trying to sell raw shrimp. that's right - raw seafood, right off the street, and early. it was a stinky affair. he had this pathetic little i-can't-believe-it's-not-butter dish with three little raw shrimp in it (i can't believe it's not prawns) that looked very scuzzy, and now the office smells rank. and i'm the only one here so far, so if it lingers i'm guilty by association. fuck. who would buy shrimp from some kid going door-to-door? the stands on the side of the road are bad enough, but traveling seafood salesmen...children? and the kid looked really nappy, as if he'd just gotten off the boat (literally and figuratively).

religion by mail, seafood door-to-door, everyone is selling something.

i need constructive crafts to do with my free time. i should paint. it's also possible that i'll make a poetry blog (seperate from this one). i used to write all the time and i can't say why i stopped - maybe all the drinking and isolation, although the latter never stopped emily dickenson. of late i've been feeling creatively stifled and it really sticks in my craw.

and i would start practicing on my guitar again if a certain friend of mine who has a penchant for "fat chicks" would get it back from his disgruntled ex-roommate.

album du jour: hooverphonic blue wonder power milk

conversion by mail

today a cd i ordered from half.com came in, and included in the package was one of those little jesus-christian business cards. i was so delighted! if i knew where my scanner cable was i'd just scan it, but the card reads:

front:

God Loves You!
How to Become a Christian
and Know You are
Going to Heaven
(over)

back:

1) Ask Forgiveness for Your Sins.
2) Ask Jesus to Be Your Savior.
3) Ask Jesus to Come Into Your Heart (Revelation 3:20)
4) Ask Jesus to Fill You With the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 5:185)
5) Read I Corinthians 12 About Gifts of the Spirit
6) You Have Eternal Life! (:1 John 5:13)
Please visit our ministry web site at www.allstars4jesus.org
Also see www.jesuscares4u.com

jesus is great and all but really i don't need "literature" sent along with my cd's. i left positive feedback for the user (jesus4eternity16) on ebay with the comment "i will accept jesus as my savior if you accept john kerry as yours". fun for me on a thursday eh?

and are people really converted by getting a jesus business card in the mail? it's glossy and pretty and all, but it doesn't really inspire me to become devout and give up my sinful ways. i've grown quite fond of my sinful ways. it's also reassureing to know that "god loves you" and that the requirements for "getting into heaven" can fit on such a tiny card.

incidentally the cd i got was called god fodder by ned's atomic dustbin.

album du jour: the strokes room on fire

wal-mart is the devil

i'd rather not do my shopping at wal-mart out of principle, but i am a man (ha!) of modest means and am unfortunately relegated to doing so at the moment. grocery shopping at wal-mart is tantamount to being beaten with a bag of oranges (yes i would know). all wal-mart shoppers are mentally challenged - they all have to stop and hold up cart traffic so they can save three cents on corn niblets. let's not even touch on the parking lot situation. personally i never browse or impulse buy when i go shopping; i hate being there and flee as fast as possible after some succinct product-snatching. but what would be a nobler alternative to shopping at wal-mart? albertson's? super one? they're not exactly mom-and-pop outfits you know.

i also filled my new perscriptions yesterday and am very contented right meow, very contented. my paxil cr is good - prior doses have not had a noticeable effect on your humble narrator (apparently the new dosage turns me into malcolm macdowell). the xanax i'm going to save for the weekend, since the "controlled release" aspect of it worries me - i don't want to be dragging all through work. not tomorrow anyway. when i picked up my scrips from the pharmacy the girl behind the counter said i was a "lucky guy". let's hope so.

i gave myself a kickass haircut that i can make look respectable for work, but that easily morphs into a moderate mohawk upon request; i feel like a punk semi-super hero. yes, there's nothing more indignatious and riotous and punk-rock than a moderate mohawk you only wear away from the office. maybe if my boss didn't have such an affinity for fishing (and we all know what that means don't we my droogs), i would give it a shot.

album du jour: faithless no roots

the song "mass destruction" will resonate with alot of people, the ones that read this blog-rag anyway. dido plays drums. me likey dido in a non-friend way. the website is very good.

Bush Press Conference Drinking Game
from wonkette:

Every time. . .

• Bush mentions "freedom and sovereignty of the Iraq people" . . .1 drink.
• Bush condemns those who "hate freedom" . . . 1 drink.
• Bush hails our brave men and women fighting in Iraq . . . apply for the National Guard, have dental records taken, go to business school. Take as many drinks as you want.
• Bush pleas "if I had known" . . . pound forehead against bottle.
• Bush references Clinton administration's "law enforcement" approach to terrorism . . . take a drag off of a cigar.
• Bush says "we will not back down" . . . shed a tear for Tom Petty.
• Bush vows to "revamp amd reform intelligence services" . . . Try to email a mugshot to a friend.
• Bush glances at a seating chart. . . change glasses.
• Bush calls on Helen Thomas . . . pop a Geritol.
• An analyst calls it a "presser". . . hit self in head, grumble, take a drink.
• Fox crawl mentions causalities . . . sober up.

our stepford nation

i'm starting to have nightmares about bush winning in november and huge crowds of religious zealots cheering and yelling and hating. it's like a scene from nazi germany rallies in my head.

how is it possible for anyone to attack kerry's war record? while kerry was in the mekong delta dodging bullets gomer was in alabama dodging bravery, duty and sexually-transmitted diseases. somewhere along the line he also managed to evade any vocabulary acumen, common sense, a moral compass, business savvy, motor skills (recall biking incidents and pretzelgate), curiosity, open-mindedness, self-awareness.... several other things i can't call to mind presently.



every qualm i hear pundits and priests touting about kerry just seems moot. actually, calling their "rationale" moot is being generous - most criticism is at best a manipulation of fact and at worst (and most commonly) outright lies.

but we don't like reading articles. just give us headlines and purty pictures.

where input.... can't think for self... must... do... stuff... oh no! orange!

album du jour: manifold splendour my night time career

in memory

bridge over the river lie

even though i'm only 25 and have never been to a foreign country aside from canada ("just going over the border for some french fries and gravy sir"), i remember well serving on a swiftboat in '68 with john kerry in the mekong delta. he spent the whole time crouching in a pool of his own urine with a blanket over his head while we did all the shooting. not only that, but instead of firing at the enemy he would hurl his fellow crew mates' torsos at them. this one time i saw him wiping his taint with the american flag, signaling the viet cong about american military movements, and smoking "marijuana" all at the same time. john kerry only killed women and children in vietnam and burned down villages he knew to be un-guarded. he also shot three of his own crew mates (in the back) and defiled their bodies by drawing faces on them and shaving their eyebrows. john kerry also supports terrorism, worships the devil, rapes kittens, and eats babies.

album du jour: dykehouse midrange

no joke, this guy's name is actually michael dykehouse. i can't stop listening to this album.

quoth the raven

at the risk of sounding goth, here's why i'm looking forward to death. you know that feeling you get while sitting at your desk that you're about to keel over and put your head through your monitor screen from fatigue and/or boredom? never more. or the insatiable ire you feel towards an inanimate device that only makes a little sound (albeit annoying as fuck) once a day (or in my case seven times a day - i make full use of the snooze), provoking you to throw it across the room? never more.

i crave a big sleep. i want a permanent womb. granted, there's alot of good stuff you may miss out on when you're dead (as opposed to alive, to clarify), like food and drink and wine and women and song. but for me it all pales in comparison to some solid sack time. especially right now. and even all of that is just speculation - who's to say what happens when you die. but in all likelihood it's nothing. just unconsciousness.

and really isn't our life-long goal unconsciousness? from the second i wake up in the morning all i want to do is go back to bed. i also love drinking, not just for the skewed behavior and ability to have sex with girlfriends i may not really like, but also for the wonderful slumber (or blackout, call it what you will) that ensues. same thing with other substances.

we work most of our lives so we have a comfortable place to sleep and eat and shit. why be afraid of death? you're definitely covered on sleeping, and the other two become irrelevant (probably).

so why not commit suicide you say? because i'm an advocate of avoiding the path of least resistance and i don't want to be hypocritical like limbaugh. plus i really want to see that ian curtis movie when it comes out. not sure about jude law playing him.

fuck i am sleepy.

album du jour: the siddeleys slum clearance

shampoo my crotch

remember the line from as good as it gets where jack nicholson tells those two people sitting at his table that "people who talk in metaphors oughta shampoo my crotch"? i feel the same way about people who use nothing but cliches or adages. i hate verbal cliches. almost to the point where i get physically ill when someone uses them on me, with serious intentions of providing insight into some problem or situation. using them in jest is fine; i do it all the time because they're ridiculous. if you're so fucking programmed that even your speech is derived from some teleivison show or movie you've seen over and over again then just don't talk. everything these days is just repitition. no popular music is really original. every tv show is derivative of some neilson-rating paradigm of "what sells". movies - how many previews to movies have followed this formula: "blank had it all. a good blank, a successful blank, and a gorgeous blank. until one day, blank happened. now this blank has to learn that blank isn't always what you blank of it". and the modern-day dependence on cgi special-effect bullshit has really raped the film industry. i'll say it again, return of the king sucked ass.

something else that really bothers me - people who think that their newfound appreciation of radiohead makes them complex and brooding. god damn those people.

i'm going lewis black today.

album du jour: midnight movies midnight movies

some very disappointing news today. my beloved beta band has decided to part ways. it's not from the typical bitter internal dissent that most bands break up over, just their musical journery arriving at its fruititon. there will be supposed solo projects that arise from the demise, and a farewell tour through the end of this year. if you haven't ever listened to the beta band please do yourself a favor and check out the three e.p.'s, or any of their albums. they're all magnificent. obviously i'm biased, so i think everything they've done (since their inception in 1997) is fab.

today really sucks fat hairy balls.

oh, billy!

putting quotes around words makes them seem lewd. what about when you add elipses in addition? observe:

today i was "jerking off" with soap...
the babysitter was annoying me so i had to "push" her...
i was horny so i told my girlfriend to touch my "penis"...

yes, lewd. maybe michael powell should enact some legislation concerning quotes and ellipses. no punctuation for anyone!

i had an appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday and i finally got him to prescribe xanax for me. it's some sort of "controlled release" (did the quotes make that tawdry too?) xanax so i don't know what effect it will have. i hope i still get the nice wave/buzz.

controlled release...i must be sting. yes, i am tantric.

since todays theme is lewdness, it's worth mentioning that pisser received almost fifty (50) comments on a post which included pictures of her bressesses (she gets alot of responses anyway, but much more with the pics). as such, i decided to see if the tactic would work for me as well.

let's see how much attention i get. incidentally, i left a comment on that post as well, but it was in response to something else and completely non-boobie-related.

album du jour: comets on fire blue cathedral

country music makes baby jesus cry

would nurturing a fondness for alt-country make me a bad person? critics always seem to cream their jeans for it. there's a stigma i've always perpetuated that country and offshoots thereof are personally off limits, but lately i've been coming acoss several bands of the genre i think i like, in addition to new albums from bands i already like that take on a sometimes-twangy sound. what i'm going to do is to spend this week exploring some different bands and see what happens. certainly no loretta lynn apotheosis though, even though she gets wet for michael moore.

another thing about critics - when they make their "best of..." lists (at the end of years or decades or whenever) it always seems like the bands they put on there are only there to make the list look obscure and complex and brooding so that those qualities transfer to the critics. i have a hard time believing that all critics actually think that the records they cite are that good, because i know for a fact some of them are complete crap (and my opinion is, of course, law).

album du jour: rilo kiley more adventurous

this is the album that actually got me thinking about the alt-country scene, if you listen to it you may understand why. great cd, good times.