Today was cloudy and warm. I went to visit Laura and we had breakfast at Mae's Phinney Ridge Cafe...sigh. Then we stopped by Bent Bike and Burlington Coat Factory.
Not much going on right now. I'm just chilling and seriously thinking about taking some vacation time.


Thoughts for the Day:

"All truth passes through 3 stages.
First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed.
Third, it is accepted as being self-evident."

~ Arthur Schopenhauer, 19th Century Philosopher

"Tell the public the same lie over and over and soon enough, they'll believe it."
~Stacey Lester, 21st Century Digital Boy

"Poo-Poo Pee-Pee!"
~El Stu, 21st Century Git


The Shape of Thangs

I went to see the new Neil LaBute movie, "The Shape of Things" with Trip, Trish and (by custom) El Stu on Tuesday. I won't spoil it for you, but if you're familiar with his work, then you know somebody is gonna get screwed! Yet this movie was less cringe-inducing than "Punch Drunk Love" which I can honestly say was probably the first movie I felt traumatized watching. Even the morbid and depressing "Leaving Las Vegas" didn't have such a distressing effect me!
I guess the film was a play first and it definitely has that feel, distractingly so. I felt the two lead males were not very good actors and I was really bummed that Aaron Eckhart wasn't in the film.
But the thing that bugs me the most about LaBute's movies is that the guy seems to be in state of arrested development concerning his relationships with women. I say that not as some SNAG trying to show how sensitive I am (trust me, fart jokes are funny!), but really for a guy who's married and has kids, his portrayals of male/female politics reminds me of how was when I was 19, utterly bewildered by women and pissed 'cause I wasn't getting any. If I'd been precocious enough, LaBute's canon (with maybe the exception of Nurse Betty-maybe) would be just the kind of stuff I'd be churning out. The dialogue in LaBute's first movie (In The Company of Men) was humorous and captivating. Sure Chad (Eckhart) was a jerk(!), but he was a funny and watchable one. The cast in "Your Friends and Neighbors" was excellent, even though I was turned off by the callow clueless-ness of men and the passive-aggressive-ness of the women. Cary (Jason Patric) was so over the top in the flick, you couldn't help but laugh!
Nurse Betty was OK, even though the plot was weird (I'm all for colorblind casting and all, but Morgan Freeman's hitman was old enough to be Betty's father-ew) and Renee Zellweger acts like she's heavily medicated...which makes her kinda creepy-to me, anyway.
But "The Shape of Things" is probably worst of the four. Adam (Paul Rudd) is a little too dorky. I know 'cause we can smell our own. Personally, I would've deeply suspicious of Evelyn (Rachel Weisz) from the start and you'd think anyone who's such an obvious mark would've been burned a time or two (and thus wary) by the time he got to college. Then there's this almost "X-Files"-like way everyone dances around a subject, never asking the completely obvious questions. So when the enevitble happens it's sort of a relief...
Anyway, that's my two cents whurf.

Thanks fer readin'!

Review by smart person paid to do so here.


So I get to work Sunday night and find an email that says the tap water on our floor is brown and that we probably shouldn't drink it or make coffee with it. I dunno know about you, but if you ever worked nights you know coffee is fuckin' crucial to your well being. I use my deskmate's mug, which is the size of a small boat. But then the idea of drinking contaminated water does gross me out and probably explains why the coffee tastes like ass most of the time.
So I had to go up two floors to the company lunchroom and get a 20oz bottle of Coke, which mind you, is usually the freakin' caffiene dessert for me. I got home Monday morning and was nodding off while trying to read Salon at 9AM, so I packed it in and went to bed.
The situation had not changed when I got into work last night...but I'd gotten a good day's rest and decided I could deal. I bought a Coke and some bottled water and got to work. We were a little shorthanded 'cause the new hire doesn't start until tomorrow night and the boss was out. Fortunately, it wasn't too busy. Around 1AM, I put on Johnny Marr and the Healers new CD but after about three songs, Renee asked if we could hear a siren. I turned down the music and by Jove, we could...faintly. We all grabbed our stuff and headed up the stairs and outside. There wasn't a security guard in sight. After about 10 minutes, a firetruck showed up. I was wondering what took so long, as there are two fire stations within six blocks of the Dexter Horton building. The firefighters inside did not look happy to be there. Three of them got out of the truck and without a word, headed to the door. Renee let them in. We watched them as they got the elevator unlocked and then they disappeared. A couple of minutes after that, a guy in a construction hat came around the corner.
"AHA! Here's the real culprit!" I muttered.
The guy walked up to us and explained that his demo crew had accidentally ripped out a smoke detector while doing some work upstairs. We told him that the firemen were inside, but he didn't seem too concerned.
"This kinda stuff happens." He shrugged, then turn and went back the way he came.
On one hand, we were relieved that nothing serious had gone down but on the other hand-we'd barely heard the alarm. I was reminded of a few weeks prior when someone had announced a test of the fire alarm over the PA and we (down in the basement lab) couldn't hear anything. I didn't think about it much then. Now I'm kinda worried...
The security guard showed up just the really annoyed firemen were coming out of the building. We told them about what the construction guy said.
"Where is he now?" One of them growled, looking like he wanted to kick some ass.
We all pointed down the block.
The security guard said something about some construction, but the firefighters just ignored him. Without a word they went back to their truck and drove off.
We all went back to work.

Man, I'm sleepy.


Day one of recording went well. We got the basic drums down on 5 songs. I'm sure there will be some fussin' and tweakin' do be done, but all in all it was a good start.
I expected things to be more uptight, but we were all in a pretty good mood, it was beautiful out and Matt kept me cracking up by singing like Elvis on the scratch vocal.

On Saturday Frito and I goofed off, ran some errands and argued about if I actually cheated by taking SR 99 during our "race" home Friday night. I maintain that since no ground rules were laid down, whoever got home first, was the winner. He says that since I was on my motorcycle and he was on his scoot, we should've stuck to surface streets. Personally, I don't think it matters. My engine is six times bigger than his anyway. I could pass him at will, and the only thing that may have made a difference would've been my choice of route. Oh well. Maybe next time, buddy!

Yeah. Right.

Tab called Saturday evening and said she wanted to hang out. It was a lovely day, so I didn't bitch too much about having to ride to Richmond Beach. She and I went to a bar called The Cabin and had beers. We were later joined by Ashleigh, Laura and Michael. WE all got hungry and wound up driving up the hill in hopes of finding some food
and wound up at a Chinese Joint near Aurora. We get there right before the kitchen closed, but they hooked us up!
We ate, watched people singing Karaoke and yakked up a storm. The ride home was cold but it was all worth it.


Tomorrow, I head into the "World Famous Kelly Lu Studios" to begin work on the first Fey Ray album. It's going to be tough since all of us have day jobs but I'm really excited, because after a year and a half, we will be making a statment and putting out there for the world to hear, appraise, criticize, love and/or hate! I think we've got some strong songs, but more than anything else I want to see what can be done with them. Playing live is fun, but the musical palette is limited. The studio can be used as another instrument giving us a broader choice of "colors" to work from. We have a large pool of talented friends to help us out and I want everybody in on this!

We're aiming for a late summer release date.


OK...once again the other blog is up. There is still much work to be done on it. Perhaps Frito and I can geek out sometime this weekend and get some stuff done. I will go back to posting in both places, although the new blog has a "nifty" comments feature.



We didn't care.
We didn't care, but They did. They had money and power and grand designs about what should be done with it. So they did what they wanted. We let them and They destroyed everything. There were a few who were paying attention, who tried to warn us. But we were busy with too many other things, or too eager to dismiss what we were hearing as fiction.
I was one of the lucky ones. I could Leave. I settled Here. In a big white house with picket fence on a wide, sunny street. My neighbors are people like me: Able To Leave.
It's pleasant here, but by no means is everything safe. I took a job with the local Rangers to help defend the borders from the Hordes. Sometimes several days go by before I have to kill anyone. The rest of the time I spend in my garden or fishing or flirting with Helen, my sexy next-door neighbor.
This is a strange place, but I guess it's suited to these times. E's "God's Eye's" float lazily across the sky. The weather is perfect, no matter what time if year it is. Even the storms are aesthetically pleasing. Everyone is so damned cheerful that I wonder if it's a huge put on. But then I think-Of course it is!
I had the weekend off so I spent the day cleaning and repairing my powered body armor. I'd decided to try some new ammo Jose, the block captain had told me about. While I was in the garage looking for some oil for the mini railgun, I saw something out of the corner of my eye: A photo album.


So I have this theory (like most of the others, it's rather half-baked) that while no man is an island, we do sort of glide around, crashing into each other and drifting apart like the continents. Except that instead of occurring over millions of years, these alignments and rearrangements occur in much shorter time frames...years, weeks, days.
It's easy to get wrapped up in "the routine", going to and from work, hanging out in the same places with the same people and missing what's going on with folks that are on the periphery.
I get tripped up by this all the time. I run into someone I haven't seen in awhile and I in my ignorance always ask the worst possible question.

Hey! How's it going? (Looks around) Where's your dog?
(Mournfully) Oh. He died.

I should know better. But what alternative is there? I can't keep up with everyone! And while these situations seem unavoidable, you still can't help but feel bad.

At the WigNSkit, I saw an affable, quiet British gentleman (and I do mean gentleman) who is the friend of some friends of mine. A genuinely nice man. His wife is a rowdy, sexy, firecracker of a woman who's frequently out of town a lot. She liked to slap my ass when she saw me. So of course I open my big mouth to inquire after her.

"Oh. We split up in September." He told me-gently.
Jeezus. I certainly stepped in it again.
I could only imagine the emotional pain that he'd been through. I saw images of him sobbing and listening to Frank Sinatra records, long nights desperately finding a way to comfort himself, weekends spent shut-in with only a bottle of Glenfiddich for company. And now, that he'd gone through this long, dark night of the soul and gotten himself together enough to smile and deal with a crowd who does he run into? Me. Damn.

I console myself over this in three ways. One-I think we were both pretty hammered by that point of the evening. Two-Ignorance is indeed, bliss. Three-Since he did not break down at the mere mention of her name, perhaps their separation may have been good for them both. He was kind enough to let me babble until I could change the subject, though it may have been the famed "still upper lip" the Brits used to be known for (pre-Ecstasy).

Still, just thinking about it makes me wince. However, I might be a little oversensitive.
Either way-I'm sorry dude.


A Reply to Spring has sprung and I must mate.

Dearest Stacius,

Don't be fooled. Breakup Babe isn't empowered, she's conflicted, hence the Super Ego Id exchange. I would say that she is trying really hard to level the playing field-- you know-- the traditional 1950's stain of puritanical double standard that gets scrubbed and scrubbed, but to this day has just made the fabric slightly less discolored, rumpled, and a little threadbare. For that I salute her-- o.k., well, shrug, and hope that her bean spillage serves as catharsis, which would earn her a bonus point for being somewhat self-aware. But empowered? Nah. Spilt beans aren't attractive/empowered or hideous/contemptible according to gender. Any illusion to the contrary is a fabrication of our own fucked up perception of gender roles.

I can't hold Victory Shag up as a counterpoint to Breakup Babe because I don't subscribe, so haven't read (other than the posted Metafilter letter which isn't his writing) his work, and prefer to maintain my ignorance. In a generalized sense, I find the musings of MOST habitual intimacy bean spillers
1) highly suspect
2) generally lacking in any sort of holistic appreciation for those with whom they have dallied
3) invasive to the dallied's privacy
4) often callous and ill-written/spoken, lacking any kind of artistic value, and therefore, vaguely titillating in an empty nauseated kind of way.

If you were able to transcend all four points, you could really be onto something. Instead of the reader being one who sops up the details like leftover sauce with stale ciabatta cause they don't have a warm mouth-watering 5 course meal of their own, we could all watch awestruck as you glow with pleasure while you relive your feast. The glow (of this glimpse into the human condition) would be so warm and beautiful in hue that we would feel a compulsion to hover our hands about it in hopes of warming our chilled numb little fingers. And not to be a total suck-up, but in general, it IS your glow (beans or no beans) that keeps your blog bookmarked in my little web world.

A random girl.

Ask and ye shall receive. I was wrestling with what was bothering me about this site. Could I be stained by the very same double standard? Was I just hatin' 'cause she's got more readers? Is it 'cause I know her and that I think she should be forced to wear a warning sign? I was puzzled...

I'm sad I don't have any Victory Shag issues saved 'cause I think Dobbs was trying to transcend those four points you mentioned. (see: http://www.victoryshag.com/k.html http://www.victoryshag.com/peanutbutter.html http://www.victoryshag.com/susie.html for examples)
Actually, what I wanted to link to was an article written about him by a woman who obviously was biased...yet intrigued. Yet she used her postition to diss him and paint him as reprobate.

All of us who blog are exhibitionists, I suppose. Just some more than others. And really, the most attractive thing about blogging is that the only rules is: Don't be boring! However, I was a little miffed at the idea that someone was using the old "Men just don't get it" crap as fodder for blogging material-and getting rewarded for it. Especially when guy's attempts to write about the same subjects are met with distain.

Anyway...Thanks for your input. I think I can relax now. Anyone for pancakes?



One last thing...

Went to Elliott Bay for this.

Actually came home with this...

Either way, Mom won't like it!

A Question before Bedtime.

OK. I think we left the back door open when it was nice last week and now there are flies the size of fucking helicopters up in here. Frito and I have not eaten at home much...so what are they eating?!

*screams and flees room in terror*
Spring has sprung and I must mate. Or something like that. Actually, I have been wading in the dating pool but since I'm (heh) gen-tle-man (you in the peanut gallery! Stop laughing!!) I choose not to blog about it. "Why?" you ask. And that's a perfectly valid question...there comedy gold in them thar hills that I could be mining for all it's worth.
But I choose not to, for several reasons. Lemeebreakitdownforya:

I learned a long time ago that people often accept and reject each other for purely subjective and superficial reasons. I had a female friend who I've known for years, tell me recently that if she'd met me AFTER I'd gotten my motorcycle, she would've been AFTER me! Which led me to think that someone who hook up with me based soley on my choice of transportation is certainly someone I should avoid. (Thanks for outing yourself, BTW)
Somehow we all fancy ourselves having a "type". Mine would be a tall, curvy, brunette in the Kari Wuhrer/Dana Delany/Jennifer Tilly/Isabella Rosellini/Olivia Williams/Rose McGowan mode. She'd look good in red and black, read quirky novels, be super smart and have great taste in music. Does that match anyone I've actually dated? No. Well...one. Sorta. Does that mean these women were flawed or somehow evil? No. Sometimes (a lot of times) people just don't fit. And I've noticed when a lot of people decide to write about their dating travails, they fail to acknowledge their neurosis, placing the blame entirely on the suitor (or suitee?!). It's easy to point out that duffel bag that she or he is carrying whist ignoring your own full set of Samsonite.

And then there's the "better deal" factor. When you're dating online, it's easy to get caught up in thinking there's something better if you wait long enough. I suppose that's fine if you're not into anything serious, but it's probably best to state that up front...like, right up front. Otherwise you wind up hedging your bet, holding back for the one who's going to make your toes curl with delight just by looking at you. Love at first sight and all that other crazy shit they sell you in Hallmark cards and pop songs. Personally, I believe attraction is good and necessary but trust, good communication, respect and being responsible for your own emotions are even more so. But then, I'm single, so what do I know?!

So you're probably asking. "What set you off on this tangent?!" Well, this. See, I know her...And no, we've never dated. See, what I want to know is why is it that when a woman spills the beans, (ala Bridget Jones Diary) it's all about empowerment. But when a man does the same, it's pathetic and contemptable? I'll withhold further comment but I'd like to hear your opinion sometime...drop me a line won'tcha?

In other news: My leg is recovering nicely. A lot of the stiffness and soreness in my muscles is gone. It's mostly my shins that hurt. It's a pity I can't see the bruises, 'cause I would've loved to have something to show you. It's like the time my friend Steve tried to convince me his hairline was receding by pointing out some millimeter wide distance on his forehead. I thought he was nuts and had good laugh at his expense. Anyway, I felt good enough to dance through Frito's set at Wig N Skirt and even if I was the only one doing so at the time (it was way early) I had a good time!


OK then. WigNSkirt 2003 was a friggin' blast. If you didn't make it, you only got yourself to blame...so there. We'll post pictures soon. The server that Frito's Photo site was on got hacked a couple of weeks ago and is RIP. I think we're going to change hosting companies soon, as they had the audacity to bill us even though we can't log on or FTP anything!

I'm tired and waiting on a pizza...so more later.