Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
my temperature spiked to 102.6 last night, so i immediately called my dear sweet neighborfriend to bring some aspirin over to help break it. to pass the time (and my anxiety) i laid on my bed with a cold damp cloth on my chest, in the hopes that it would cool me off. i started to sort of pass in and out, then i hear my phone ring and it's the aspirin at the door. with my mr. burns stance and no equilibrium, i grab a shirt nearby, button up and go to the front door. i give the nice man some money and look down and have managed to miss almost every correct hole and corresponding button, turning my shirt into an origami 2yr old dressing herself mess thus exposing my funbag(s?!) i thanked the lad and proceed to my igloo room to pass out again.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Discovery of the Day
Today Boing Boing posted a link to a site that had scanned a few of what are called QSL cards. These are little trophies for amateur radio operators; be it ham, cb, shortwave, or what-have-you. When an amateur operator in, say, Minnesota would make contact with someone in Mongolia and they were friendly enough he or she would give his address to them so they could receive a QSL card and vice versa. So, each one represents a feather in the hat for the operator. Jody Foster’s character in CONTACT gets one at the beginning of that film
So I did some digging around and found this enormous treasure trove of them from all over the world (There’s even a section for countries that no longer exist!). The designs jaw-dropping: from sleek Soviet to hillbilly scrawl. So, here’s your interweb rabbit hole of the day – have fun and hopefully you’ll find one to steal for your bands next flier!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Saturn. . . is never easy to deal with because his function is that of promoting growth."
perhaps this could explain:
.my cell phone dying
.my work phone dying
.my work email crashing
.my new job
.people coming out of the woodwork
.unexplained drama drama
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
things i learned from a brief xylor jane interview:
+ natural division
+ ambidextrous folks usually favor a certain hand
+ in the orange county public school system they take students to disney land on field trips instead of museums
+ even though some people grow up in a rigorous religious environment, and eventually move past that way of thinking, the original religious principles still haunt you
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Friday, September 7, 2007
in my stunted nasal airflow state i had the pleasure of watching the roky erickson documentary you're gonna miss me with a good buddy of mine. the film painfully follows roky, his mom and his brothers, struggling with with roky's schizophrenia as well as his mothers lack of resources and ability to properly care for her son. only happy when he's surrounded by squelches and squeals from multiple tvs, radios, amps, and any other device that will produce a cacophony of noise. roky has also amassed a rather large collection of mail order trinkets and rubbish in his close quartered apartment.
his brother sumner has a sincere interest in taking roky under his wing and bringing some "normalcy" back to his life. the family as a whole has dealt with their fair share of an alcoholic, unresponsive, and (by choice) an uncommunicative father who lives next door to the very son that is trying to pull roky from his mental abyss. yet the family still tries to work together, only to (in an almost sisyphean way) fall back to their old ways and allow the matriarch to keep roky in her care.
the love sumner has for his sibling and the notion that all he wants is to help roky to return to playing music, is nothing short of awe inspiring. music, being the one thing he knew would bring his brother a modicum amount of joy, despite roky's diminished interest. the true story is the battle sumner has over his own unfortunate upbringing, and how he makes a life for himself (and eventually roky) with the help of his mentor and thier love for music.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
photo by: alex soth
Fog, like reason, settles on the peeling district.
This is the new money. The new economy.
Where my lover lives. When I left him,
I left books, coats, silverware. Things.
It wasn't charity; it was an impure,
commonplace case of forgetting. (May he find some use
for my low-rent betrayals.) Land ends
with miles of aloe along the Great Highway.
Surfers strip off their suits, half-naked
to the naked sea. The sand's ignored
BEWARE OF THE UNDERTOW signs:
these are the notes of the drowned.
The Sunset, by Randall Mannniagra niagra