following up on the space ghost: coast to coast dvd madness i spoke of in the armteeth post, the daily ghost planet placed the full text of the bumper where the word came from:

We have now edited many of the older C2C's to eleven minutes.
So that we can fit them into the Williams Street hour.
We don't know quite why we made them so long in the first place.
We were new to television.
But now the old versions are gone.
Toast.
However, Erik in Consumer Products tells us they will release DVDs in the fall.
And the long versions will be on the DVDs.
But who the hell knows.

grain of salt not included.

meanwhile, for the first time in six days, the sun is out, meaning that the london/san francisco weather toying with newyorkistan has been put on hiatus. thus making the memorial day weekend feel more summery. i didn't mind the misty rainy days as of late, but i never complain when the sunlight hits the ground, mates.

karma rages.

good: friend daytripped from boston on saturday.
bad: fandango's phone service for ordering movie tickets.
good: nobu's tempura and kushiyaki.
bad: nobu is kinda overhyped.
good: the servers are hot hot hot.
bad: paged 2.30am sunday morning.
good: by 3.15am, not my problem.
bad: had to go to work to try and fix one thing.
good: tax return processed.
bad: state tax return already blown on clothes.
good: new william street productions on adult swim.
bad: now air a half hour earlier, and i didn't know.
good: six new space ghost: coast to coast episodes in production.
bad: sg:c2c will now be edited to 11 minutes each.
good: unedited sg:c2c will be coming out on dvd soon.
bad: jaw drops off.

i can never tell when tv is joking with me, but dammit, it's time. damn time for the rest of the world to see the awkward joy that is the space ghost.

anyways, back to the first matrix, where it always hurts to see morpheus' head bounce off the toilet. and the soundtrack and lighting is much darker, in the best way possible.

i have a few things to catch up on, but let's drop this nugget first off.

after catching the matrix reloaded early saturday morning, i noticed that [minor spoiler alert.] trinity used a non-hollywood hack against the backup power plant, which turned out to be a true hack: using nmap and an ssh exploit to bust in.

after seeing the twelve year old girl in jurassic park using a strange flyby gui, claiming it to be unix, and the mess that was the net, it was a nice touch for the wachowski brothers to use a semi-true representation of a 'sploit for all the geeks watching (and cheering) in the aisles.

of course, after yet another sunday sauna sabbatical, i'm starting to wonder if maybe trinity herself is hacking into the sauna. you always imagine the acned antisocial teen boys in mexico or korea pulling this off. but what if it was a leatherbound kungfu goddess? does that mean i'm harbouring something actually important?

if so, i'd like to tell her that she could ditch the one and go for the seven and a half. [wink wink.]

just don't break my server. and all the hosts onboard.

although, this morning, it turns out the downage was thanks to a knocked over DSL modem. nothing fanciful or malicious. just a search for a dropped toy around the computer.

one reason to destroy the world:

ping www.sauna.org

Pinging kiuas.sauna.org [216.26.206.65] with 32 bytes of data:

Reply from 206.47.150.165: TTL expired in transit.
Reply from 206.47.150.165: TTL expired in transit.
Reply from 206.47.150.165: TTL expired in transit.
Request timed out.

one reason to spare the world:

häagen-dazs ice cream.

this is why i'm not allowed to hurl lightening bolts from up on high; i am occasionally filled with spite, especially after the frickin' ISP router elected not to share whatever wisdom is found on all my earthly pages to the rest of the frickin' planet yesterday.

hung like a router and still getting paid...

[growls.]

it's amazing how tenuous our grip on civilization is, how it can all fall away so easily.

i mean take mister rogers' death. i took it rough, but did i degenerate? no — so when i saw this in soho this cold wet afternoon, i was amazed:

king friday the thirteenth is now placing graffiti on panel vans in new york. then again, maybe he was doing this beforehand, and his behaviour led to mister rogers' eventual demise.

maybe coalition forces stormed the land of make-believe and had their own regime change. who's running the show now? daniel striped tiger? henrietta pussycat? donkey hodie? who's running this puppet regime now?

now if only there was oil there...

there!
what will prince tuesday say?
what's right and wrong in our opposite day world now?

captain easily confused again, here reminding you that identical names can lead to easy confusion.

like the fact that josie refers me to the pop cultural stylings of chrome waves and graig has a link to and dirty monkey bugspray fun has a link from chrome waves...but not the same chrome waves; another chrome waves. the short degree of separation has confused me on occasion since i'll see a reference to one and think of the other and wonder why the style keeps flopping back and forth even though my source-reading finds no CSS wackiness.

so, henceforth, it'll be pj's chrome waves and frank's chrome waves. unless i mixed them up again, at which point my head will explode and i carry forward onto my next point.

it's fantasy baseball season time and i'm off to a healthy start for the first two weeks anyways. i recently did my first trade, which brought to mind another name confusion incident, whereby i wondered why shannon stewart the blue jays outfielder was listed as a playmate. thinking it was an interview instead, it turned out to be shannon stewart the june 2000 playmate, which turned out to be a pleasant surprise after all.

anyways, after measuring the stats, this new york-based general manager traded the toronto non-playmate to the toronto-based gm for godzilla aka hideki matsui, former japanese baseball superstar, now new york yankee, who's tearing up the opposition much like seattle mariner ichiro suzuki and not like (um) fat toad hideki irabu.

more than one person with the exact name — an unnecessary evil. chalk up that truth to the voice of experience.

early night tonight, but here's two nuggets of interest:

1. richard perle resigned, one of rummy's cronies from the reagan administration, avoiding possible conflict of interest charges. he looked to be a true warmonger just for profit.

2. found off mefi, kim jong il's live journal. where the neglected evil leader battles wits with george w bush, amongst other weirdness:

   On the plus side, I think my hair looked pretty good today. Also I went frolicking at Paektu Mountain and the rainbow came out again. After dinner some of my subjects sang me a song because I invented Outer Space.

that's priceless, but scarily enough, it's not far off the mark. i mean, this was the guy who kidnapped a japanese director to have him make a godzilla movie for him, a really crappy version too from what i hear. not unlike turkish scifi ripoffs, i bet.

and just to keep things clear, i invented outer space. it was my idea! it's the best!

and you know what? i'm going back!

hang on; i have to be at work for 6am tomorrow.
space will have to wait once more.

a friend tried phoning me wednesday night to tell me about a strange transmission accident prior to dubya's iraqi freedom speech.

bbc world service started to air the president's speech before he was ready, so you were able to watch him practice and get primped for the big announcement. the smoking gun shows us his appearance smartening up, even though that might have been all. and they only grabbed 10 seconds of the entire two minutes of footage.

white house officials weren't impressed and they weren't pleased with the bbc's explanation or apology. especially when pbs and 200 other stations used their feed.

laugh whilst you can. baghdad's on fire and the troops are closing in fast.

oh man.

whilst i searched for where i saw the then-matador recording artist solex, i stumbled across my deranged email to graig when i got home, which started off as recollection of an art gallery showing of billy dee william's artwork and slowly drifted back on topic:

solex's ironing board, lemon shaker and mp3 player (guy on streetcar talked to her about her gear. i'd love to talk to her about her gear, except her gear. gear, gear, gear. naughty baby!!). i was going to talk to this girl on the streetcar, but then, i remembered, even though she was making with the eyes, who meets guys on the ttc? oh - and what better way to say i love you than i haven't bathed in two days, sorry?

yep, it's bobbing for urinal cakes.
with...some guy.

upon further reading, i am reminded that i was not feeling that well around that time, hence my atypical hygiene in public. solex was worth battling whatever head cold for another day.

meanwhile, this site continues the further demonstration of the complete and total scattershot dialogue with myself. it's a battle of sharp pencils and mud, meaning that it gets plain messy in various fashions.

as well, my self-debasement knows no bounds and any personal i ever write will be so brilliantly modest, my loneliness will be exalted.

SWM, 27, blond/blue, prone to bouts of nonsense, purposeless antagonism, false inconfidence and procrastinated ambitions seeks S_F within 5 years for easy amusement, stubborn headbutting, tangential philosophizing and flights of whimsy. no smokers, exercise caution as author is allergic to everything under and including the sun. sanity preferred.

for this, i am wasting my sleeping hours.

the end.

there are two different kinds of bicycle tire valves:

1. schraeder
2. and presta

schraedar valves are the same valves used in car tires, whilst presta ones aren't. if your air pump only handles schraedar type valves, you will need a presta valve adaptor.

meanwhile, i need to go yell at some people for not telling me about this. then buy said adapator and re-inflate the rear tire (presta) to match my front tire's pressure (schraedar).

then, i can enjoy this wondrous spring day, getting killed on the roads of new york. and it is gorgeous outside. +14°C (61°F), sunny and how.

crispin glover has a new movie coming out tomorrow, a remake of willard.

graig asked if i was curious to see it last week and at that time, i wasn't. however, that changed when i saw one of the freakiest trailers ever put to my eyeballs.

crispin glover, singing michael jackson's ben.

which comes across as a david lynch cabaret with thousands of mice and r. lee ermey with a monocle. your jaw will drop.

meanwhile, crispin will be on letterman tonight, although letterman is still out with the shingles, so will ferrell hosts. no word if crispin will dress up for this appearance, as opposed to his last one in 1987, when he dressed in a wig, brought a case full of diseased eyeballs and almost kicked letterman in the head.

also no word if he'll sing either, although these boots were made for walking won't exactly sound the same anymore. (more odd celebrity cover songs available via april winchell).

[snicker.]

...okay, okay. i caught this link off plastic's news queue this morning.

in the rush to rename things labelled as "french" to "freedom", what should when people discover that french toast is named not after france but joseph french??? has the reaction to the protest against the possible war on iraq extended to boycotting 18th century foods from albany, new york??

oh man, my lungs are hurting here....

the sunday new york times had a photo of sheryl crow, with a highly cherubic forehead, cheeks and face. now, i can't tell if the photo had been doctored like most photos in the press, but the first thing that leapt to mind was botox. now used to fight wrinkles, it has the side effect of freezing the skin to the point where no microscopic muscle movement is allowed. this makes the face, the one thing eyes are immediately drawn to in nature, stop revealing the subtle visual cues that may indicate a person's true thoughts.

then it progressively deteriorated until i brought up the dreaded guy who loves his car, which makes kinda circular sense since recent studies show that car lovers recognize cars like they do faces...which i guess are kinda botox'd up in a fibreglass style. but, ewwww!

but, for g-rated fun's sake, carla and jon's 2003 philippines trip gallery (page 3 on their stopover on boracay island) includes what groundskeeper willie meant when he described the french:

that is a cheese-eating monkey that surrendered.
so lay off the french already.

[listening - aphex twin + coil: the snow answers come in dreams.]

during lunch, someone was voicing the now-common disgust with reality-based television. they spoke about the latest one, which was designed to find america's sexiest people, whereby the contestant stands on a pedestal whilst judges flicker little lights on parts of their body, offering critiques on what was wrong.

yesterday in the shower, i was mulling over something similar, but more in the home renovating side of programming. in hindsight, i think i've come up with a perfect merger of the two similar tastes into one new show...

trading faces.

[listening - the breeders: poe.]

you know, you think you have a rough life.

but then again, you're not a freak of nature, with what looks like compost for a toupée (on the other hand, i've never probably seen you either...nor do i want to).

imagine: no goodnight nookie, no little gherkin and no other brucio induced misogyny.

and sticks for arms. and melting in spring! not the sun! aaaah!

*ahem*

so yeah. life's not bad, especially compared to a foot high legless stationary water-based body.

or michael jackson. yikes, where did it all go wrong, man?

[listening - m/a/r/r/s: pump up the volume.]

i typed up my ladytron live review, but i'm way too exhausted to try anything about the movie i saw tonight. surprisingly good with dark storytelling, but something didn't fit right. ah well, i was entertained.

meanwhile, in the continuing pile of damn! i wish i thought of that! creativity, someone has created the hulk's diary:

This morning, Hulk at coffee shop when some man outside rev his engine for 10 minutes. Hulk go out.

"You know, that's bad for engine!" Hulk said helpfully.
Man gave rude sign with middle finger.
Hulk punched through hood and ripped out hoses and parts. That's much worse for the engine.

meanwhile, for you politically inclined, here's my political compass location:

Economic Left/Right: -6.25
Authoritarian/Libertarian: -7.33

what does it mean to be a left libertarian? <shrug /> i mean, i've read a few of the books there, feel like chomsky is some sort of didactic android, but i'm more a sympathetic handsoff kinda guy.

who needs to do laundry. eventually. argh---

[listening - beck: guess i'm doing fine.]

200.000 people protested a unsanctioned pre-emptive war into iraq at the united nations today, joining millions worldwide on a day for peace. the beeb solicited photos from protestors and here is a sampling of what people on parade submitted.

i slept in, so i missed the rally, although i've never really dealt with being large groups of people that well in the past. so i spent the day so far just reading the news and putting the finishing touches on the sleeve for a mixed cd for my brother (last christmas, huzzah). it won't approach anywhere as near the sublime beauty of the one i received from josie yesterday. one thing i can't do still is colour correction from pixel to paper, so my regular little collages never print quite right. and i don't really have that many catalogues about either. but it is about the music after all, isn't it?

like mike wolf found, dictionaraoke uses online dictionary pronounciation guides overtop instrumental songs to produce robotic rock. graig and i have toyed around with this in the past, but never to this extreme.

mike also uploaded his pictures of the big apple blogger hookup, so you can yet again see my freakish mug. i swear, digital archæologists are going to have a field day with whatever's left of the web in the future...

[listening - the white stripes: dead leaves and the dirty ground.]

earlier today, mr. brad emailed these two photos:

naturally, this investigative reporter wanted to know what the story behind these constructive moose and what they were up to.

here now is brad's account (with formatting changes):

"There once was a moose named Larry,
whom the lady mooses thought looked scary,
So he primped up his hair,
and shaved himself bare,
so thenceforth he looked like a fairy.

No, that doesn't cover the trench part... hmmm... so here goes:

[listening - various artists: peanut butter wolf's jukebox 45s.]

one ongoing drama in my life that recently ended was the arrival of a dialtone on my home phone last saturday, february 1, the same day the space shuttle columbia broke apart upon re-entry, making phone service a mixed blessing (long distance came a few days later).

flash back to early december, when i signed the lease for the apartment. the call placed to the electrical company to change the name on the bill hooked me up with allconnect, a service to sign up to all the necessary utilities at one go, including home phone service through at&t. considering i'd be avoiding many evils of being on hold, i ran with it.

i knew i'd be heading home for christmas, so i asked for the phone service to turn on when i came back, a day or two before new year's. my company asked if i get it hooked up sooner, but after one call, both the telco and me forgot. i did a test call to my new number on december 27, and instead of the number not in service message, it kept ringing, which was promising.

however, when i got back, there was no dialtone on my line, which proved to be the theme song for january. before new year's, i phoned at&t about the problem and they dispatched a technician from verizon, who maintain the infrastructure up to the box, at which point at&t services the box up to my flat (new yorkers know where this is going...). he would arrive in the first few days of the new year and check everything up to the box. i got a phone call in the first full week of january saying that the line came out all right, which was just the beginning.

n.b. - this goes for a long while, so watch out, skimmers.

[listening - beck: fuckin with my head (mountain dew rock).]

you know, just because you have to act fast, it doesn't mean you don't think at all.

unfortunately, if they were right, the space shuttle columbia really broke up for obvious reasons (along with an exhibited top nasa secret):

considering prior geographical inaccuracies, how can you trust network news... fake headlines et al. still, i wouldn't give the time of day to msnbc or fox, with their transparent agendas.

and please,
learn from the mistakes of others.

[listening - dead can dance: sanvean (courtesy of paul oakenfold).]

one says winter is over,
one says winter will last longer,
scientists say the male groundhogs are introducing themselves to the females,
hungry people say remove the scent glands before cooking:
where does this tubby rodent prognostication come from?

meanwhile, neil gaiman trapped me this february day:

terza wha?
i just had dessert, thanks.

okay, so i'm not a haiku? that's a little off-putting. nothing like repurposing my entire poetic form.

nah.

a friend's going to become a daddy in a few months and many people know now that it's going to be a boy. so, naturally, it's time to pick a name.

of course, in all seriousness, i can come up with an appropriate name, taking both family, historical and audio cues, especially those for whatever children i'll end up releasing into the world (although i don't think any woman would go for gomez, but here's hoping). still, picking a name has to be done carefully, or the poor child will wind up with something that can't be spelled, said or not snickered at.

so, without further adieu, from the instant messenger files (most typos cleaned up, although some kept in for contextual amusement):

probably. as a dietician, since it hurts to open my jaw right now. i hope i'm not getting a really bad cold.

adding to my woes is the fact that my computer at home lost its steam when it decided to no longer power up, so i guess i isolated part of my problem cutting cds. this means i have to monkey around with hardware once i get home tonight.

since i probably can't post for a while (i have zero faith), this renton appearer (i'm nae rent boy!), let's look at some links with pretty pictures:

• argentian annual family photo: notice the boys becoming like their father.
• oolong the rabbit who wore objects on his head: unfortunately, oolong died today.
• brooklyn supermarket produce: all gussied up; i'm not sure where this is located yet.
• missy the potential cloned dog: missy died a while back, but her wealthy owner is looking to bring back a clone based on her dna. take that, you raëlian wannabe cloners!
• oliver the textism dog: yeah, the weimaraner from dean allen's beautiful and witty website.
• in the bathtub of the world: caveh zahedi's digital video documentary comprised of a daily minute's footage from his tub.

then there's, um, there, which looks like a long-planned sims online in its own metaverse. and the geographical website tracker, but i'm running out of time and tissue here.

i hate being sick; it interferes with my basic consciousness.

hey. if you're up for a modest world domination plan, follow the link on the graphic below:

i can get fittings for matching orange jumpsuits if necessary. so you can fit in with the other uniformed souls in my secret underground lair. first thing we'd do is bring back the dysfunctional family circus and go around telling each other that it's the cat's ass. then we'd have punch and nachos.

jeremiah pointed me to a post by natalie where she includes a minor diss at eggnog (the drink) which inspired davezilla to create:

the no-nog weblog

of course, this puts me in a minor quandary as having a weblog named after eggnog endorsing a campaign against the evils that are eggnog puts me in a level of meta-advocacy that makes my head all spinny? do i support something that strikes against my URL/namesake?

then again, that's what i get for naming this thing after something i'm allergic to, although i do recall having some when i was in grade school at the family's request (then again, details are sketchy in my memory afterwards). it's like buttermilk, i guess.

maybe i should rename my blog involving buttermilk at some point.
me and my all fringe dairy themes.

whatever.
the site made me laugh, so i endorse it.
just don't give me any unless i have my medication with me.

down with eggnog!
up with beer nog!

my dreams have finally come true: not only do i become an astronaut today, but i was paid seven dollars for my efforts.

of course, most seven dollar bills aren't torn from notebook paper with magneta smiley faces on it, but my cosmic ambitions aren't deterred.

and now, my patience with all the kids has been tempered with a warm beer i found after hearing a banshee wail for about ten minutes straight. all this exposure to rugrats from 9 months to 9 years has shown me how out of touch i am with all these youngsters, meaning i have to now watch my language, sarcasm and actions to ensure i demonstrate responsibility as an adult figure. i guess that day had to arrive sooner or later.

the good news is now i have high speed at home along with digital cable, so now i can post during non-working hours, thus making me more responsible. which can be a bit heavy in one day but life marches forward.

then again, maybe my dream was to be a beatboxer, like rahzel or that guy off police academy. or to be that pudding guy who bought thousands of pudding for free airline travel (which the story of punch-drunk love was based on). or maybe i just want to reword marquees:

i forget.
i'll remember when it's time to.
before my first spacesuit fitting hopefully.

i'm in the midst of completing my long, drawn-out move, so before you see the pretty pictures, and if you're need more shizzle from me, then ask snoop dogg for the shizzolated eggnog. it's bound to keep your shizzle quota up in the stratosphere.

[up on the housetop,
hic, hic, hic.]

don't mind that noise up on the roof, son.
just as long as keep the fruitcake dropping,
there's no reason to worry about a less than sober santa.
(requires flash, foo.)
unless he falls off.

of course, if you're being more of a neighbourhood vandal,
you can have zorak steal christmas.
but you're on your best behaviour when i'm not looking.

right?

okay, kids; time to forget your pencils.

in a time-honoured tradition, from when i first received the esteemed it's a wonderful record! by the shadowy men on a shadowy planet (which i had spent years looking for after hearing two of the record's songs (yes, it is a record) off graig's glorious seasonal mixed tape from 1995 or something. god bless ebay), one song, the twelve answering machine messages of christmas, included this strange nugget:

When doing your Christmas cards, don't forget Betty White. She can be reached at:

Post Office Box 3713
Grenada Hills, CA 91344
USA

ever since 1999, i keep forgetting to send betty white a christmas card (mostly because i forget sending out cards completely), so, in preparation for the 4th annual "forget to write betty white" christmas extravaganza, i ask that you do the same. intend with the deepest convinction that you will mail the golden girl, the match game star, the lake placid bitch, and then forget until january, when you realize it's too late.

it's the seasonal gift that just keeps giving.

to me, panda bears are an odd source of humourous material. i mean, the poor chinese bears are going extinct, yet they end up appearing in strange news items, like reports from china that, to help with their mating habits, matchmaking software for pandas has been created. that's just today's news; if i continue to sneak around, i can find more interesting tidbits, but i won't quite make a panda category quite yet.

so it's come to this: that hamster has been extricated from the freezer and properly buried.

news also exists about the spiders remaining in graig's old apartment (or, considering that they disappear all the time, graig and emma are not tagging them along to the new one), thus leaving in the dust two of the greatest names a weblog could ever have:

the spider behind the toilet.

the hamster inside/in the freezer.

hopefully the spider name is kept somehow 'cuz i don't think i want to handle another movable type import again. neither graig, unless it's a wicked cool name that'll stop nations in their warmongering tracks. then i'm total pro that.

light your candles.
(or, in my case, i just put the damn christmas lights up on the entire sauna site, so you can now get edumacated on christmas in finland.)

feedback from that hamster can be summarized as follows:

1. pride
2. and disgust

one cool thing i forgot about was the fact that three people emailed me within a half hour of each other with onomatopoetic subject lines, turning my inbox into a batman fight with adam west falling into a few cardboard boxes before getting his bearings. and i quote:

• MEP!
• Pleh
• vids

after looking at the rejigged eastwest site (which points to the wondrous sandwich project), i'm compelled now to start separate blogs that could be fed into the humble eggnog: one for dumb links and another one for photos. should be some quickity-quick PHP, but i'd prefer to do it once i've settled into a homely evening highspeed environment, which should be happening mighty soon (although that suggests a planned imminent move, which is not the case: i think it's damn time i get out of the hotel room already).

but yeah, dumb links, turning me into a meta-metafilter, like these:

• the guy who carves sculptures out of pencil leads.
• the strange rock paper scissors championship in toronto tomorrow (man, i want this shirt with its historic british propaganda twist like a bear-driving car).
  
  
  n.b.: for those of you not in toronto, you can always play an internet version.
• the historic voyage of terry waite's clogs. (yes, that terry waite.)
• a new book: developing web games to get laid. [thanks rannie!]
• and that strange footage from a 1950s experiment where british soldiers take LSD with its deadpan narration and the schoolyard antics by royal hallucinogenic squad [off new world disorder].
2002 November 15 18.04
thinks (2)

well, my efforts to find out who wrote one line of poetry have been fruitless to the point where the only entry findable to man is from a damn seven-year old signature from myself (thanks d-man). of course, it'd be more helpful if i didn't remember the last line of the poem, but those are the words that clicked and i'm stuck with them. and unfortunately, carla, it's neither bukowski or ginsberg, thus making my life even more complicated.

so what do i do next? naturally, i frustrate myself further and try to find another poem or poet or whatever online based on seven words, give up and ask for help. seven words:

he had television poured into his hands.

where in the wide world of extreme sports do those words come from?? this was a very short poem, something about domestic complacency, split in two lines.

i guess i really have to dig up my old plastic box full of high school nonsense and comb through it for that freakin' handout. or phone up the school to see if that english teacher with the rhodes scholar son who researches dung beetles in africa is still there (thunder bay, africa, wherever). or give up and confess that i wrote them and finally release my own pieces of work out into the strange world and reap no benefits whatsoever because once i start getting paid, that's the time when the authors step forward.

(and don't get me started on the other two poems on that handout.
actually, i don't remember them at all right now.)

(and there was the other high school english teacher who showed us the poem written by a cockroach, but then he broke down for one reason or another.)

god have mercy on those who dare teach my offspring, since they'll be spawn from the master class disruptor.

ah well, it's jonathan richman and vic chesnutt time in two hours. you'll see a writeup on the bugspray funtime hour at some point, in all its ragged glory (graig: master of the backhanded compliment since nineteen ninety-nothing).

the big lebowski is one of those movies that completely sputters along through the years with its own charm. it has inspired a devoted legion of fans, all with their own websites and the ability to quote lines from the movie like a cult classic. apparently, it won an award recently in europe for being a best movie of all time for something, but of course, i can't find the link. i remember whilst in indonesia, being able to riff along with a travelling buddy, holding entire scenes of dialogue, even though i hadn't seen the movie since it first came out and he had watched it each day for two months straight.

anyways, a strange rumoured popped out about a possible sequel to the big lebowski, featuring the pederast jesus, who only appeared for maybe three minutes at most, but completely weirded out the movie with his bizarre dialogue and scarey antics. the coen brothers have never done a sequel before, so who knows how far this idea will go. however, if you haven't seen the movie yet already, find it anywhere: dvd, vhs, drive-thru, a big backyard screening, whatever: it's a strange little universe that's howlingly funny. it could even inspire a future hallowe'en costume or two.

this is all about the importance of keeping your eyes open no matter what you do. after battling a bout of eating food i'm allergic to (again) and taking the severe drowsy pills that help and make me drowsy, i'm sorta becoming useful again (although i should log my usefulness). jayme had an extra ticket to burn this, starring edward norton and catherine keener (but only until the 9th!), but based on my sluggish reaction speed, another theatremonger scooped it, so i'll just pass out at home for a while before completely throwing my circadian pattern out of loop.

speaking of circadian, jen had a diversion of an entry talking about burning her sinuses with acid vapours that pointed to a comprehensive chinese zodiac site where i found out that i'm a fire dragon born during the rooster hours. throw in my pisces creativity and my champion enfpness (although i think i'm start to drift to becoming a counselling infj) and that's my genuinely abstract sort of self.

but is that as cool as what davezilla found? this is cool walking around with a patch sewn on its leather jacket sleeve: blank cd-r's that look like 45s! i want thousands. a home computer with a burner will be mighty happy.

meanwhile, as i just read the new york press, i now know that the fine ladies cello society, otherwise known as rasputina, play two shows at joe's pub tomorrow, which means i have zero fucking excuse to miss them for a 3rd and 4th time in my pitiful nomadic life.

...and that little boy grew up to be...fucking tired!
and a pottymouth.
and now you know the rest of the story.

coming up: page five thousand.

i'm easily wooed by interfaces that encourage interactivity (as opposed to those that just look cool), strange music and the ability to nod off for hours in a hazy creative bent.

of course, with only 3 minute bursts of freedom, i can't fully enjoy the depths of this narcotic dub flash instrument without truly sitting in a house entirely made of bamboo where the sun is just suggestive wallpaper ready to fizzle out into the ocean. still, i've bought the hook and fell for the reverb.

also gleaned off metafilter is the wonderful poster art of leonard cappiello, the whimsical maker of advertizing posters in early 20th century france, which i see mostly in equally whimsical bistros and trattorias.

meanwhile, i'm starting to work on another list to follow up on my voodoo post of memories worth sharing when the technology exists (a tribute, of sorts, to strange days, which i haven't seen, nyaah); here's my first sputter.

i'd embrace the theory of reincarnation if i could come back as:

• a lovingly prepared criterion dvd (check out the new fear and loathing in las vegas specs).
  
• a new nokia phone, made by engineers who understand how people use these freaky little phones.
  

i'm stumped for a little while, but i'll come up with some more and list them and then backtrack so you can find it again, you magellans of the web.

nothing major here, a simply minor star in this freaky constellation of a weblog.

i've dumped about 5 categories, so you can sayonara to Frivolous, Stuff ...and a few others that i've already forgotten. this meant that i had to sweep through all 140 or so posts to recategorize the now orphanless entries.

already, in the four or months i've been running this system, i've completely forgotten some of my initial entries, making it a nostalgia trip, even though it's not really that far back.

however, for true nostalgia, may i present my first two attempts at chronicling my life:

1. food [it's what goes into you.]: my blogger blog, which ran from march to july 2001, with a brief hiccough of meaningless input in september 2001 (or at least now meaningless since the last few entries were just quick posts so i would not lose the link but i posted no followup information). the reasons it died were twofold:
   1. blogger kept losing entries and i was fed up with refilling them.
   2. absolutely no feedback from anyone, mostly since people didn't really know what a weblog was at that time.
   however, i think it still looks great with a clean design and whimsical photography bits from my first lomo.

   i want to use food for something in the future, but i'm not sure quite what yet. a simple birth (in UNIX land, i wanted to see something funny when i typed in finger food) led to a simple site, but i need a hook to drag me back into that mad sea.

2. eggnog publications: mark 1: which was graig and i first planning our own news and review site back in 1998. graig had been working with his nextpage reviews and i was in the midst of a slow period of my job then (kinda like today at work, i guess), so any excuse to collaborate together was seized upon. the reasons it died:
   
   1. i went on a trip to finland and came back to an insane amount of work.
      
   2. graig stopped reviewing altogether for a while.
      
   3. the domain name we registered couldn't be put into place because no one i know could figure out the DNS.
      
   4. work stopped paying me and i was eventually laid off.
      
   5. graig moved to barrie.
   
   again, it looks simple and clean with a good start to a collection of work that would've been quite the fun place if only the timing was better. fortunately, graig and i collab now on the dirty monkey bugspray fun project, although we really really really need to use another template.
   

so mark 2 of the HMCS eggnog keep zipping along for now and i dig all your groovy input.

i've never been one to steal anyone's thunder, but in tribute to the imminent move of graig into a new place with a new(ish) someone,
for those of you who have never seen,
may i present,

the spiders behind, about, somewhere closeby and nowhere near the toilet.

[cue music.]

wowzers!
i finally have an american bank account!
now what do i do?
besides worrying about customs forms?

damn.
how did this all happen again?

it's strange to think how much noise actually surrounds us sometimes. today, the phone system here at work spazzed out, meaning that no one could call into the office. we could call out, up until an hour ago, after a server test killed that function. this means that aside from the occasional mobile ring-tone, there have been no ringing noises in the office. as a side effect, the workload finally lightened up for a bit, although i'm still collecting notes on other matters.

soon, my main noise source will disappear as a new air conditioning unit is almost ready to go online in the server room, meaning that the door can be closed and i'm left with a big hole of silence.

mockingly though, the power fluctuates madly through the building once a day or so, meaning that the machines with the wacky UPS do a power-off wave, leaving me to freak out to find out what's still up and running.

before this entry becomes all complaints though, let's pinpoint a few thing i wrote up. thebiglist was recently blessed with my ideas for hallowe'en costumes. then i bombarded the old faithful dirty monkey bugspray fun with a music review of ladytron's latest along with two monkeynews articles.

i need to find time to record a few other things that are happening, but i'm operating on 4 hours sleep and i'm waiting for a phone tech. maybe this is the weekend when i'll borrow one of the unloved laptops here at work.

whoa.

just read off rannie's site that movable type is at version 2.5. guess it's time for an upgrading. rannie has a few upgrade tips, or ...um, just one.

oh: and rannie's coming to town next week. ooh right yeah. time to clear the calendar.

meanwhile, true excitement comes in the fact that movers will take my effects out of my toronto place next week. finally! bad news comes in the fact that i have yet another u.s. government form to fill out and it's 3 pages long and asking for a description of everything being shipped. and i don't remember what i own anymore. next i'll find out i don't live in a hotel.

found off metafilter:

gary is a diamond ring that can go from 0 to 60mph in three seconds!
gak is a sock that's covered with realistic fur! It improves blood clotting.
eggnog is a pair of roller-skates that plays the American national anthem and can be used by several people at once.
sauna is a piece of string that plays MP3s, automatically avoids obstacles and holds up to twenty cigarettes.
your entire life is a small plastic pyramid that mimics its user! It can pick locks and never needs repairing.
my whole existence is like a normal robot, but it keeps food fresh for up to eight weeks.

sorry. this is too much fun.
i'm so easily amused.
thank god for the shiny things network.

the thing about kittens rocking it out punk-style or viking-style is that you never really see them rock out live.

until halfway through this.

go stephen malkmus.
go yul brynner.

* no kittens were harmed in the making of this post.
then again, we can't confirm whether any were killed.
sorry.

this could almost be a list of words that being with M, but i need to come up with more a-list material worth listing on the big list, so for now, i'll just spill verbage.

• metrosexual: this word jumped up today and slapped my stupid, because it's scary close to describing me:

  metrosexual
  (MET.roh.sek.shoo.ul) n. A dandyish narcissist in love with not only himself, but also his urban lifestyle.
  

  metrosexuality implies a carefree unattached lifestyle in a major urban centre, which i will unabashedly agree matches my life of sorts. however, could i be that vain? do i really think this word is about me? i don't think so. i mean, i do make sure i look presentable and kinda stylish without hurting myself or bending over backwards. i don't mind my body faults although they piss me off quite frequently. is it bachelorhood? cosmopolitan? frisesse? happy-go-lucky? jetset generational? never has a word really put a mirror to me before. it's true what people say about how language forms the culture. freaky-scary.
• movie beer: in what promises to revive attendance and increase general rowdiness, canada's famous players looks to follow the european standard and is inquiring about selling beer in movie theatre seats. i can testify that this makes the entire moviegoing experience very casual and comfortable, although the potential exists for drunken monkey punchalongs for those hopeless bleak fools who can't do things in moderation.
• meritless assholery: brilliant insult found off a mefi thread discussing stupid default dismissive comments, in this case, about a potential new nirvana song, due for inclusion on a much-belated nirvana best of collection. but still, check out this context:

  "Yes, wanting to say something should be a prerequisite for posting a comment to this or any thread. Spamming crap like "*yawn*" or "boring" or smug-superiority-style crap like "It's a good thing this music sucks" is not a contribution to any discussion. It's meritless assholery."

  it's so good, you could almost spend your life trying to adhere to that philosophy.
• martini: in this case, a substantial improvement to a movie classic. after 40 years, james bond is finally switching from the pigswill called schmirnoff's to the much more refined finlandia. the internet movie database daily news indicated this:

  Bond Goes Finnish

  James Bond will continue to ask for his martinis shaken, not stirred in the next 007 flick - but will ask for Finlandia instead of the usual Smirnoff. Irish hunk Pierce Brosnan will drink Finlandia Vodka in forthcoming Die Another Day, which also stars Halle Berry, Rosamund Pike, Rick Yune and Michael Madsen. Sir Sean Connery began drinking Smirnoff Martinis in the first movie in the 40-year franchise in 1962. A Smirnoff spokesman explains, "We are really looking to attract customers that are more in the 21 to 29 age group. "People in that age group socialize more." According to Smirnoff the Bond target audience is males aged between 25 to 45 who are not interested in socializing. However the film's studio MGM argues their audience is both sexes between 13 and 59, meaning the lower end of the scale should not be consuming alcohol at all. And Finlandia are delighted with their new product placement. Scott Reid, global marketing director for the drinks giant, says, "This is an unbelievable coup for us."

  i guess going with a true polish or russian vodka would still confuse this cold war icon, but heck, at least it's not absolut.

let's visit a few cities and see what's striking my chords in the local press:

• chico, california: an interview with the dentist who tinkered on tojo's dentures, masking a morse code message about pearl harbour in the japanese wartime minister's new teeth. remember pearl harbour (yes, yanks, i spell canadian) comes across as the longest-standing prank that strikes as cruel and ironic yet fitting.
• toronto: approval has been granted for a pair of condominium towers to be built by yonge and eligible (er, eglinton, my old stomping grounds). there was a big fracas about this construction for a few years now, considering that 51 storeys exceeds the old height barrier considerably. they mention "twin towers" but since the other one will be 37 storeys, it's more fraternal and identical.
• thunder bay: tomorrow night sees paul shaffer get a street named after him in front of the auditorium. this has been discussed already in the past, but rumours abound that david letterman might show up. i await the accosting of my hometown on late night television.
• fort worth: daisy the burnt dog has healed after a torturous ordeal where a man doused her in gasoline and set her on fire. after extensive surgery, her burns have healed and her fur has regrown and most importantly, she has regained her doggy joie de vivre: playing, sniffing around, being all curious like. the man is appearing in court shortly to answer for this heinous act.
• new york city: um, aside from the usual plenty, yet another blog meetup.

WARNING!
USA AT ORANGE ALERT.
BE VIGILANT AGAINST BAD STUFF.
BE PREPARED TO DISPERSE AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT.
DO NOT VIEW 1950S SEX EDUCATIONAL FILMS.
DO NOT LISTEN TO A DAY'S WORTH OF 1939 RADIO.
DO NOT TELEMARKET.
DO NOT MAKE THE WEB SERVER DESTROY ITSELF.
DO NOT ROB A STORE WITH A COOLER ON YOUR HEAD.
DO NOT PASS GO.
DO NOT COLLECT $200.
OKAY, MAYBE I WILL.

means that there's one wispy bit off in the west and that's it, folks. deep blue sky to remind you where every corner the heavens go.

let's talk about the mile high city, where i lived for almost a year 5 years ago (note: having sex in colorado doesn't put you automatically in the mile high club. however, once you stop touching the ground...). one of the best looking airports is there: denver international, with its tent-style roofs to its interior garden. i normally have great airport anxiety, but denver's airport, along with the luscious helsinki-vantaa airport are very relaxing.

most people find denver's airport to be overwhelming, especially the murals on the walls and the floors. are they masonic? is this the headquarters for a new world order? is there a huge bunker underneath its entire property? or could it just be a tribute to the diversity of cultures and geology local to colorado?

besides, here's what people should really get worked about DIA:

• why is it built in tornado alley?
• why is pena boulevard (the only road to DIA) exposed to snow drifts during the winter, effectively shutting down the airport during blizzards? (i was there during the 1997 blizzard and it was a weird weekend.)
• what about that automated baggage system?
• and what about the subway that links the terminals together? and how there was no way out if it jammed?

aside from all that (i can go forever about pearson, laguardia, newark, heathrow), landing in denver is a complete delight. i really miss the area. and i'll miss terrell davis running for the broncos. man he could cut through the offensive line.

slipping through the cracks, it's the lost episode of the eggnog weblog!

no, it's not a sweeps week thing. just a place to throw in the chunks of links or thoughts that couldn't fit elsewhere yet i've collected over the past little while. not entry worthy, but in a big bunch, it's a huge messy wad to soak louisana in.

like odd news: cnn reports that hooters restaurant is looking to buy the bankrupt vanguard airlines. the so-called family restaurant may acquire and convert one of the u.s. airlines that lost business via a combination of bad business practices and the downturn after the american terrorist attacks. the good news is that the stewardesses may adopt the standard orange short/white halter top dress code. the bad news is that if food gets served inflight, it will be bad.

meanwhile, my almost alma mater made news recently by accepting a deal with microsoft for money in exchange for changing the curriculum by teaching ms' programming languages like c#. funding universities is a touchy subject, moreso for the relatively cash-starved canadian schools compared to the bank-like american equivalents. however, i wish more news was paid attention to fed hall's audtions for go-go dancers. where were they in 1995? i might've stayed!

lastly, another they might be giants tribute for their 20 years of impeccable service. the bad news is that the northeastern states heatwave claimed their daily telephone song. here's what john flansburgh wrote through email:

DIAL-A-SONG HAS MELTED DOWN - GROUND SUPPORT NEEDED

As you may know if you live in the area, Brooklyn is having something of a heatwave and the apartment in which Dial-A-Song resides is not air conditioned which has essentially melted down the two remaining working machines. Obviously, with this emerging MP3 technology we are hoping to locate some smart new computer based way of running DAS, but until then, if anyone out there has access to a Record-A-Call 675 (the official DAS brand) we would be eternally grateful. Meanwhile, I'll scour ebay...

i have to see these guys next week here in toronto, since i missed their free show in central park.

let's talk technology.
well, not technology. more like interconnectedness.

for some reason now, i now offer quantified ramblings onto the big list, which is a nice exercise in associating ideas. trivial reductionism, kinda. here's my list premiere (fancy words for first post), but you'll notice the other contributors offering soulful wit in brevity. read, enjoy, return, rinse.

then there's the trackback, which is a new feature in the movable type system. it allows the viewer to see how this entry is being referred elsewhere online and it allows the blogger to start tying conversation threads together. so if i talk about lima beans, you can trackback on your blogger to my entry when you talk about lima beans and all the lima bean looking people can find both our entries and decide we're nuts.

hence, my trackback to my heads post.
unfortunately, there's no direct co-relation.
thus far!

look at me!
i have a big head!

i've got a big write coming up later, if i can stay awake. lotsa juice, pop and tea isn't helping. man, i'm fading. it didn't help that i was doing weird aerobics or contortions to fit into the back of a server room to see if something was plugged in right. couldn't see, flash on digicam was too bright, so i just fumbled and lost all feeling on my left side. hooray for me.

as part of my new york city acclimatization, jayme pointed me to the brilliant craig's list local to new york. there's one for a good many of the major american centres and a few international places (no toronto, ha! world class me arse). for new york, there's a best of personals and they range from the clever to the sublime to the illicit to the outright creepy. i make it a point to always take a look at a few personals just to get an idea of what lengths people go to to hookup.

don't bother with reading this. please.

with xxx coming out this week, everyone's already on the bandwagon talking about the inevitable sequel. will it be xxx2? xxx ii? i don't know, i figured it'd be xxxi but i missed episodes i-xxix so i hope there's no backstory dependencies. i fluked through apollo 13 without seeing apollo 12 and i was sad there was no apollo 14. maybe they'll re-release episodes i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii ...

(see? there really was no payoff. just a bad roman numeral joke. you can safely leave now, groans intact).

one thing though: i still prefer this triple-x, so you others can keep your vin diesel (gotta dig that coffee and cigarette voice though).

i have vague scratchy sunday morning memories, but i remember davey and goliath as being a great-looking show that instilled an odd sense of guilt by watching, partly from its religious parables and partly from not going to sunday school (you know, for a lutheran, i have catholic guilt nailed. must be my renegade finnish provincialism creeping in). then again, aren't talking dogs blasphemy?

after the numerous spoofs and the recent great mountain dew commerical (oh davey), davey and goliath are making a comeback. their resurrection means that 26 new episodes are being made, so we can all bask in the hazy memory of the stop animated check shirted boy and his slow talking dog and the new children can be torn between amusement and creepiness.

man, i wish i had a talking dog.
not like this, nor this, but yeah, a goliath.
or mcgruff.
taking a bite outta crime, yeah.

the 6th day of the 8th month of the 2002nd year after the birth of christ, although some calendar dude in the 14th century messed up some addition along the lines meaning that christ was actually born 6 years before he was "born" (go figure), we have:

1. 40 years of jamaican independence from british colonial rule.
2. 57 years after the enola gay detonated the first nuclear bomb over hiroshima.
3. 72 (or 75) years since andy warhol was born.
4. 80 years of my mother's father being alive. hyvää syntymäpäivää, ukki. (my mummo's birthday is on the 8th. or the other way around. i'm confused (again). hyvää syntymäpäivää, mummo.)

ooh. a yankees ticket. for tomorrow. whatever will i do? i guess a royals' hat is asking a bit much, right?

(that's what the british call "thinking outside the box", which suggests a more expansive thinking pattern as opposed to a thought sitting adjacent to a box, but anyways...)

oppressive heat off temporarily in noho manhattan as the sky is seemingly very blue. not colorado sky blue, but this kid complains not.

now that my hotel room has a view, i'm now caught in the infamous downtown game of apartment window watching, whereby i see what the denizens of the apartments north of 34th are up to. not much excitement at half past seven in the evening; just people arriving home from work and a topless man mopping the floor. i keep my curtains closed and lights dim as a precaution, although watching me actually iron might be worth something considering how rare it is. i'll sell tickets next time.

aside from eating curry from curry in a hurry and relaxing to snatch on hbo (that film is so over the top laddish, i get glassed), i watched an episode of the new blue's clues.

i remember telling graig about the change in hosts and he leapt on an anti-joe tirade without really watching the show.

well i've seen steve and now i've seen joe and i don't like joe. of course, there's a weird surprise party sweepstakes going on right now for joe's birthday party, but no. i'm definitely in the steve camp, locked in. of course, steve's up to other things now, like his own album of songs that aren't just for kids, and if you see him now, you can tell one of the reasons he left: he's losing his hair, and i don't think you necessarily want to startle the tykes on why steve looks different each episode.

the key reason why it's steve over joe is that steve was that rare children's show host who wasn't hyper all the time. steve was gentle and very zen, which you can only see on the old 1980s canadian kids' shows when they repeat. every show i've seen recently aims to bedazzle the senses and pummel excitement with a large electric hammer. it's nice to be lulled into consciousness, because the sun never rises immediately.

this concludes this episode of metaphorical theatre.
please show your ticket stubs on the way out for a free promotional prosthetic hand.

ooh man, i should get a disgusting category. or a battle category.

with deepest apologies to chocolateorange (which also borrowed from trompe le monde and dan walker, making this a duelling meta-apology), i offer two contrasts of illness.

compare:
the downfall of courtney love (what happened after larry flynt?)
versus fingernail and toenail collecting and ...mommy, don't look.

<shudder>
do they have fullbody mouthwash? man i feel like i need some after those. as a former nailbiter (or ripper, sometimes), i feel complete revulsion over that site.
<double shudder>

redemption arrives in this form: dj shadow's latest video, directed by the man, wong kar wai: the sumputous six days.

the future can be so unkind,
so tread carefully, young pilgrims.