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saturday july 31, 2004

 

****Stuck on You

This is horrible. Fueled by the DNC, I've wrote about politics for the past week ... and now, trying to switch gears a little to dwell on other matters... I'm totally blocked! All I can think about is politics. All my emotions are politics. It's like the Democrats left town but forgot to take their radioactive compulsion to punditize with them.

I went to whitehouse.gov to read about what our rascally President has been up to. Yesterday GWB gave a speech to the Athletes of the International Children's Games and Cultural Festival in Ohio (here).

Like, there's all kinds of cultures here, and different languages are spoken, but I think you'll find you share a lot of things in common... I think you'll find you're all God's children. There's so much in common... I want to welcome the Afghan Girls' Soccer team who is here. (Applause.) We're glad every country is represented. I think it's especially interesting and an especially poignant and uplifting moment that young girls are here from the country of Afghanistan. (Applause.) Because your country is free, you're here. Because your country is free, you can now go to school for the first time. Many of you can now go to school for the first time. Many of you can go to school for the first time.

Hey, guess what girls? Your country is free, and you can now go to school for the first time. Didn't hear me? I'll repeat that, because that's the extent to which your stature in Afghani society has been elevated.

Actually, the same day Bush bragged of the Afghanistan's newfound freedoms, MPs in Britain warned that "There is a real danger that if [more troops] are not provided soon Afghanistan - a fragile state in one of the most sensitive and volatile regions of the world - could implode, with terrible consequences" (here).

Hear that? Implode. I think that's especially interesting. I mean, on one hand we have the Afghan Girls soccer team, and on the other hand we have a country that's darn near imploding from all of its new freedom.

RAWA, the Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan (here), may sound like an organization of militant feminists, but they're really just struggling for the basics: Education, health care, and the right not to be stoned, amputated, imprisoned, beat and tortured by fundamentalists in their "free" country.

I think RAWA would take issue with Bush's assertions that their country is now free because the Taliban is gone and the Northern Alliance is in place (Bush "beautifying them with pantaloons and neckties, and imposed them on our people"- here) (Here for article about Northern Alliance's shady past) (Here for pictures of how the Northern Alliance runs their freedom-loving country where girls came go to school and play soccer).

Yeah, so that was my daily anger pill for today: I am enraged that GWB holds the Afghan Girls' Soccer team up as proof that freedom for women exists in Afghanistan.

 

friday july 30, 2004

 

****Final DNC Wrap-Up

Yesterday was going to be the FINAL word on DNC Boston 2004. But hey, it's History, right?

On Wednesday, I ventured into the Belly of the DNC Beast to meet people who happened to converge in a bar about fifty feet away from it.

I set out on foot for Canal Street, which is adjacent to the Fleet Center and known for its row of spacious mid-scale bars. Traffic was light going east on Cambridge Street. On 28 South near the Science Museum, intersections were barricaded by Vermont State Troopers.

Vehicles needed proper credentials to pass through; the only vehicles on the roads headed to the Fleet Center were police cars, giant sand trucks that blocked the entrances to I-93 tunnels, tinted black SUVs, and tinted livery-plated town cars. Normally, these roads are more clogged that Dick Cheney's arteries. It was eerie and peaceful.

I fantasized about the occupants of the tinted black SUVs, about the luminaries and statesmen who, if peering out the window, would undoubtedly see the striking redhead speed-walking on the desolate sidewalk.

Who gazed upon me on their way to the DNC? Did Sharpton, wondering if he should really depart from the approved script of his speech (here), stare out the window in contemplation and see me? Did Edwards, gazing at the historic scenery of Boston for inspiration (as I somehow picture him doing) spy the strident pedestrian with wonder on her face? Did Ben Affleck, leaning over to stick his tongue in Vanessa Kerry's ear (here), catch a glimpse of me?

In front of the Science Museum, scores of men in dark suits were getting in and out of vehicles. "Are you pulling out today or tomorrow?" I heard one men say to another. "I'm pulling out tomorrow..."

On the abandoned elevated Green Line tracks, a man in fatigues paced. I knew there were snipers and cameras everywhere. I'm sure I was profiled at least a dozen times on my walk, but I was not stopped.

As I neared the Fleet Center, crowds of well-dressed people with credentials around their necks and cell phones in their hands materialized from every direction. More abundant but less obvious were the on-lookers, quietly taking in the whole scene. I also saw dozens of idle convention volunteers, and praised myself for not having the initiative to follow through with my plans to be one of them.

And of course, there were protestors and cops. Protestors seemed to fall into three general causes: Abortion (pro and anti-choice), War (anti-Iraq and Vietnam Vets against kerry) and Anarchy (a large group of punky teenagers who want to abolish all government and repeatedly performed a giant "Ring Around the Rosy").

But overall, the atmosphere was calm and giddy. Boring, even. But I guess the real history happened inside of the Fleet Center.

 

****Choice Kerry Lines

I give Kerry's speech a B+. He was wooden at first. I groaned inwardly, thinking of all the people across the country who are comparing this preppie to our presidential cowboy.

But when Kerry got started, even I was shocked how powerful he was. Good show.

Good speech. Kerry invokes more pleasing and poetic rhetoric than Bush, who relies religious imagery written on a fourth-grade level. Pursuing the test of Kerry's speech at the DNC last night (here), I was struck by the following lines:

 

****So Happy Together

Wow, what chemistry Kerry and Edwards have. After Kerry's speech last night, I was struck by how touchy-feely they were. Until I saw this photo montage on Wonkette (here), well, I had no idea.

 

 

thursday july 29, 2004

 

****DNC Wrap-Up (Amen)

Well today is the final day of the DNC, the day when we find out who the Democrats will nominate to be their candidate to run against GWB in the Presidential Election! I wonder who it will be??

Judging by the news coverage of the event, my money is on Ben Affleck (and Matt Damon as VP!)

If you're sick of hearing me talk about the convention, rest assured I am sick of talking about it. I almost cried in relief when a co-worker made non-DNC small talk with me on the elevator today ("Yes, it does look like rain!!!" I squealed excitedly.)

The coolest result of the DNC? Bush and Kerry had sex. Or at least that what Tom Brokaw reported on Tuesday (here).

Yeah, I think that pretty much sums it up.

 

****Squandered Goodwill?

The Democrats are buzzing about "squandered goodwill," and how GWB turned a sympathetic world against us after 9/11 by practicing unilateralist foreign policy.

Well, god bless the Democrats, but I wish they'd shut up. The sympathy showed towards the US post-9/11 was an initial reaction by a world primed to support the victim. We were the victim. We were wronged.

But when it became obvious that we would not play victim for very long, and we'd aggressively and actively fight back, the sympathy evaporated.

The only way we would've kept the goodwill of the world is if we didn't fight back, and left ourselves open for future terrorist attack. And had Al Gore been in power, not even he would've done that (of course, Gore never would have invaded Iraq).

 

****In other news...

At least 115 humans died as a result of violence in Iraq yesterday (here).

Doctors without Borders is pulling out of Afghanistan after 5 members were killed. The agency, founded in 1971, has also accused the US of using humanitarian aid for "military and political motives"(here).

A woman was pepper-sprayed after using her cell phone in a movie theatre (here).

 

wednesday july 28, 2004

 

****Boston is infested...

... With celebrities! In order to procure sorely-needed sustenance, the celebrity must migrate with the camera-wielding journalist, like hyenas migrate with wildebeest.

The newspapers, cable news channels and even Access Hollywood (here: Ben Affleck's political ambitions!?) are just buzzing about luminaries in Boston for the DNC. Boston.com set up a message board so normal people can report celebrity sightings (here).

I can't discern if a person on the street is a celebrity without subtle context clues, like a fawning entourage or someone shouting "Hey look, it's Bono!" But I swear I spotted Natalie Portman waiting for the South Shore Mall shuttle outside of the Federal Reserve, sipping a Dunkin Latte and reading a Herald. These celebrities really are just like the rest of us.

The presence of celebrities is comforting, because while the government doesn't care if I live or die, you know they're looking out for Omarosa, Bianca Jagger, and Jennifer Love Hewitt. Cause if they fry, well, it's just scorched earth after that.

But hey, aren't the Secret Service and FBI in charge of security, and isn't GWB technically in charge of the Secret Service and the FBI? Wouldn't President Bring-em-on-smoke-them-out-of-their-caves just piss oil if Michael Moore, Al Franken and a bunch of gay-lovin' Hollywood hippies were obliterated in a tragic "terrorist attack"?

Yeah, I'm paranoid. This is what the T's relentless "If you see something, say something" security campaign is doing to my mind.

 

tuesday july 27, 2004

 

****My DNC Update

Yesterday I headed to work at the ungodly hour of 6:45am (admittedly only 30 minutes earlier than usual, but every minute counts!) I spent the whole subway ride with nagging thoughts of train explosions. With all of the extra security precautions, someone must know something.

When I got off the train and exited the near-empty South Station, the Metro newspaper hawker was giving out free corporate swag (see picture). Isn't it sad how a free cheap pen and mini notebook (both with neck chains!) and a tin of mints emblazoned with MSNBC can make your morning?

Conventions are a pain for citizens, especially when you hear our city is losing $8.2 million instead of making the promised $25 million (here). Business are closing, citizens are leaving, and tourists are staying away. And all this stuff about "showcasing our city" is bull. How many citizens will bother to watch the hour of the convention broadcast nationally each night, and how much of Boston will be shown? I realized why they didn't have the DNC in a swing state. It's okay to piss off Massachusetts; we'll vote for him anyway.

Other random thoughts:

  • John Kerry's brother Cameron ("Cam", here) should not be allowed to talk to reporters. What a lifeless Preppie. He just sputters all these soundbites in a refined near-monotone. And his eyebrows are distracting.
  • I give props whichever political party is the first to have their Convention in Las Vegas. Or San Juan. Or on a big farm in upstate NY. That would be ideal.
  • The Bud Light Billboard on the Fleet Center (right) is soooo tacky.
  • Regarding the convention speeches last night, I thought Gore and Carter gave better speeches than the Clintons.

Appeasement

This Democracy brought to you by...

 

monday july 26, 2004

 

****Cambridge: Secured.

Today is the first day of the Democratic National Convention. The amount of uniformed personnel milling about Boston (here) and even in my lowly neighborhood of East Cambridge would be comical, if it wasn't alarming to be reminded of the reasons they are there: to thwart possible terrorist attack, and stop commuters from getting to work.

More unsettling is the sudden disappearance of all of our pigeons. Seriously, I haven't seen a pigeon in two days. What have the Democrats done with our pigeons!

 

****Laissez les bons temps rouler

Like most Americans, the Tour de France held my interest as much as soccer did... until Lance Armstrong came along and put his European competitors into remission like a bad case of testicular cancer.

Not like I'm into competitive cycling, but can I just proclaim Armstrong to be an American hero, a modern-day Hercules who embodies strength, perseverance and winking cockiness?

I don't believe Lance Armstrong is involved in doping. This speculation is fueled by the jealousy of other riders, the greed of hacks looking to sell some papers, and the public's unwillingness to accept Armstrong's feats as attainable by a mere mortal.

My instincts tell me that a person whose body is ravaged by disease doesn't think "If I beat this, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to win the Tour de France, even if it's illegal." Because if you beat it, you already know the human body has no limits except what is placed upon it by the mind.

I doubt any dope is more powerful and motivating than a Second Chance.

 

 

sunday july 25, 2004

 

****Stats!

Recent search terms people entered into Google or Yahoo in order to get to this site:

 

friday july 23, 2004

 

****What!

This morning, the local 7 News Boston (here) morning news (inadvertently) showed footage of a protestor holding this sign "If Osama was a piece of ass, Clinton would've nailed him."

I have nothing to say regarding the station's mistake nor the sign's sentiment. I just thought it was funny.

 

Thursday July 22, 2004

 

****Mr. Peebles

Oooh, look at the kitty! Look at the little kitty! Who's the world's smallest kitty? Who's the world's smallest little kitty? Who weighs three pounds and is officially the world's smallest living domestic kitty?

 

****A Bore in the Floor

We saw A Door in the Floor because it was the only English-speaking movie that we hadn't seen that was playing at the correct time at the closest theatre. I had low epectations, having heard it described as an In the Bedroom-type adult drama. So I thought it would be boring, but it wasn't ("Bore in the Floor" is just catchy).

Plus, it's adapted from a John Irving novel (A Widow for a Year), which just screamed "Formula!" to me. John Irving has certain reoccupations: Dead or distant mothers, northern prep schools, writers, and strained mentor/mentee relationships, all of which were in A Door in the Floor. (As well as full-frontal nudity, which I certainly did not expect).

But the story held together well and Jeff Bridges always abides.

Click here to read my review of A Door in the Floor.

 

Wednesday July 21, 2004

 

****It's Tourist Time!

This time of year, legions of tourists unleash themselves in Boston like a plague of sensible walking shoes. Transit is clogged with BMW-sized baby carriages, massive youth tour groups, hyperactive kids who act all "Yippee! Train!", and all sorts of people with the tourist Instinct to stand right in front of the doors. Because if you move into the train to let other the people on... you might never get out!

Tourists choke the sidewalk with maddening mellow meandering and sudden "What's That New and Interesting Store/Thing/Sign/Homeless Person?" dead stops, always when I'm at cruising speed two feet behind them. Whoops! Did someone forget that they're on a sidewalk?

My obvious contempt for Tourists must come through, because it seems I wear my Townieness on my sleeve. Tourists often approach me with easy smiles and quizzical brows:

Tourist: Excuse me, do you know--
Me: No.

Okay, I probably do know if this train goes to Harvard Square, or where the Children's Museum is, or where the closest McDonalds is, or if those khaki shorts make your legs fat. But I also know that I just spent 9 hours in an office and to interact with vacationing people gives me the dirty sick feeling that Life is Unfair. Just let me go home so I can wash 9 hours of office dust off my face.

I'm happy people deem Boston worthy of visiting, though if you ask me the tourist attractions are of dubious attraction. Old North Church? Faneuil Hall, which is basically a glorified strip mall? A freaking Swan Boat that inches its way across a bug-loved pool of 2-foot deep standing water?

So this is what most Tourists do in Boston:

I'm just kidding, of course. I love tourists. I just love being a tourist more. Who likes being the palm tree in someone else's vacation.

 

Tuesday July 20, 2004

 

****Proof that Boston is Boring

From the way Bostonians are constantly deriding and complaining (perhaps justifiably) about the upcoming Democratic National Convention next week, you'd think nothing big ever happened in Boston.

Because nothing exciting ever happens in Boston. Because when something big does happen, people do nothing but deride and complain.

Keep a stiff upper lip and smile for the cameras, Boston, and maybe Menino will put in a Boston bid for a future Olympics.

 

****Domain Name Speculation

I think domain name speculation is a little bit seedy, but I saw the Ebay listing (here) for "KerryGephart.com" and admired the squatter's sense of humor.

 

Monday July 19, 2004

 

****Dime or Quarter?

These "smoke" coins (here) make an equally great gag gift for the serious coin collector or the raging pot head in your life.

 

****Glass Flowers

Finally saw the Ware Collection of Blaschka Glass Models of Plants at the Harvard Museum of Natural History... that is, I saw a lot of glass flowers (here for information about the collection).

It was pretty amazing. Everything in these photos is handmade entirely with glass.

Glass coffee plant

 

Glass flower

Glass plant

 

Sunday July 18, 2004

 

****Tom Wolfe: Bonfire of the Voyeuristic

Tom Wolfe's upcoming novel I Am Charlotte Simmons is apparently his twilight-years-crisis book, rift with lusty, busty college girls seeking meaningless intimacy from boorish jocks. The NY Post calls it "shocking in its salaciousness and vulgarity" (here).

According to press release, the main character "Charlotte soon learns, to her mounting dismay, that Dupont University is closer in spirit to Sodom than to Athens, and that sex, crank, and kegs trump academic achievement every time."

Tom Wolfe is 73 years old. I'm sure the fact he's 55 years older than his characters will provide exciting and fresh insights into the minds and actions of today's young people. (Yeah, sure. Go back to writing about rich and powerful New York jerks, you rich and powerful New York jerk. This ain't your free-lovin' 60s.)

 

****Mystic River: Bad Beyond Belief

I finally saw Mystic River. Because it was filmed in Boston and laced with local themes, it still gets trace amounts of buzz around here (if you call Laurence Fishbourne off-handedly commenting on Dunkin Donuts a "local" theme).

All I can say is... Wow. It started off bad and just kept getting worse. It wouldn't end either. It had no redeeming qualities and, despite it's pretensions, made absolutely no profound statements about the world.

 

****Harvard Bashes Bush

I always forget that GWB went to Harvard Business School. It just seems a little hard to imagine.

The Harvard Crimson has an article about Yoshihiro Tsurumi, a visiting professor who taught GWB in the 1970s. Tsurumi has many recollections of his experiences with GWB that seem just a little too vivid...

But I can't deny that they sound believable: “He made a comment saying that people are poor because they’re lazy... [George W. Bush] didn’t stand out as the most promising student, but...he made it sure we understood how well he was connected” (here for article).

 

Saturday July 17, 2004

 

****Sympathy Denied!

People that I probably should feel sorry for, but I just can't muster it:

 

****RIP Arthur Kane

When I think New York Dolls, I think Johnny Thunders. (And Sylvain Sylvain, just because I saw a picture of him when I was sixteen and was convinced that one really was girl.)

... but I was sad for a second over bass player Arthur Kane's passing (here... why is his little BBC obit filled with Morrissey quotes? I mean, even the bass player deserves some dignity).

 

Friday July 16, 2004

 

****Overheard

"All she ever talks about is Jim Carrey and how he's so much better than Bush." --Young woman on the T

 

****Gentrify with a Bullet: A Book Review of Sorts

I wanted to read Mat Johnsons' novel Hunting in Harlem (here) because it was about black-supplants-black gentrification as written by an African-American. And on that point, it delivered. The book lagged a bit in character development and writing style, but it was a damn clever and fascinating story that revolved around gentrification in Harlem. Gentrification to the extreme.

In Hunting in Harlem, an African-American real estate company, driven by ideals more than money, turns Harlem into a black urban utopia by murdering the derelicts and undesirables. Then, helped by PR efforts about the renewal of Harlem, they sell or rent those properties to the African-American upper crust who will improve the quality of life for everyone. The main character Cedric Snowden is an ex-con who works for the real estate company... initially as a mover, then as a murderer. At first, he hates "hunting" and feels guilty about it, but then he convinces himself that it's for the greater good.

How is this murder spree justified? Too wonderfully. I mean, at times I even saw the logic in the extremist views. It's such a complex issue. "Nowadays, black folks' biggest problem isn't white racism, it's ourselves. White people aren't breaking into our homes, attacking us on the streets, or selling drugs to our children, it's black people who terrorize us" says the Congressman of Harlem who is the mastermind of the "hunting." Instead of patiently trying to help the bottom 10% of the African-American community, an attempt bound to fail or require years of work... just get rid of them.

My shameful little secret: I am reaping the benefits of natural gentrification. While East Cambridge was never a ghetto and in fact has some really lovely historical houses, it is a working-class family neighborhood for recent immigrants (Italians, and more recently Portuguese and Brazilians), a close knit community bound by its churches but still quite rough around the edges.

Then, about 7-8 years ago, Cambridge's real estate market reached insanity levels. Long-time families sold their houses for remarkable prices and fled to the suburbs. Speculators and developers bought houses and turned each floor into 1-2 bedroom apartments and condos. Working-class families who lived here for generations were lured or forced to leave, and not many working-class families could afford to move in.

Enter me and scores of other youngsters with no real ties to East Cambridge. Don't hate me though, because East Cambridge hasn't been truly gentrified yet. There are still long-time residents here to support the churches, the local-owned stores and the schools of the neighborhood, though pretty soon most of them will be finally priced out, driven out or just fed up. And I will probably be priced out by rich yuppies and college students by then. A classic tale of inevitable gentrification.

Yes, as Hunting in Harlem suggests, gentrification is morally ambiguous. But while the meek will inherit the earth, they can't always keep the neighborhood.

 

 

Thursday July 15, 2004

 

****Forensic Time Machine!

I love it when historians/scientists/doctors posthumously diagnose a historical figure. It's geekily thrilling. Like now we know crazy King George the Third had a rare blood disorder called porphyria, caused by gradual arsenic poisoning (here) and Socrates, Charles Darwin, Andy Warhol, W.B. Yeats and Lewis Carroll may have all suffered from various forms of autism (here).

I would like to do a web page about it, because I couldn't find a single "clearinghouse" web page of information about explaining people's quirks by diagnosing them centuries later. I don't know if the practice has an exact word or term to describe it. I'll keep looking though because it's got to be out there.

 

Wednesday July 14, 2004

 

****Chris de Burgh: Renaissance Man

When you hear the name Chris de Burgh, many things probably come to mind, mainly: Who's that?

Chris de Burgh (here) is the man who gave the world "The Lady in Red," the classic 80s slow-dance song. For that alone, he has earned an esteemed place my heart.

More importantly, as of yesterday Chris de Burgh is the proud owner of "the creature that exploded from the actor John Hurt in the science-fiction classic Alien." After "frantic bidding," De Burgh won the auction for £29,875 (here). That's $55,484.35.

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright

 

****Who's got the Bush Brains?

I'm beginning to think it just might be Jeb.

"Bush Twins Break Silence About Campaign, Parties" (here):

Jenna said her parents have the "best marriage," citing as proof that "my dad thinks my mom's funny even though she's really not -- she's cute, she has funny quirks." Jenna said her mother would tell them to clean their bedrooms. "I call her OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) to her face, but I'm glad now because some of it's rubbed off on me," she said. Jenna also described how the president interacted with the girls' boyfriends. "He's not the shotgun-dad type, he's the joking-around-to-the-point-where-he-scares-the-heck-out-of-them type... He's so competitive, so active. He was stressed out, I know, but we still had the party."

So your mom has "funny quirks" and is OCD, and your dad threatens your boyfriends and is stressed out? Why are you saying these things? Silence was good.

 

Tuesday July 13, 2004

 

****Robert Burns: Gie her a haggis!

I've always respected Scottish poet Robert Burns and his body of work, which is not only beautiful poetry but a proud nation's cultural history. He truly inspired and continues to touch the populace of Scotland (yeah, it's Scotland. But that's still pretty good. )

"Address to a Haggis"(here) really moved me. I'll never look at haggis the same way again. Before, it was just disgusting Scrapple-like meat product. I still won't eat it, but now I get haggis. It truly is "Great chieftain of the sausage race!"

Honestly though, I know it didn't mean then what it means now... but I won't ever be able to think "Robert Burns" and not think about his poem "Cock up Your Beaver" (here).

 

Monday July 12, 2004

 

****Today's Reason I Hate GWB: The "Use Your Sense, With Abstinence" Epidemic

Another excellent point that Bill Maher brought up last Friday at Foxwoods (here for my post): GWB's incredibly naive "ethnocentric" view of the world is revolting. Like, how arrogant Bush is for trying to bring democracy to countries filled with men who get murderous at the idea of their sister in a miniskirt. Maybe we should respect that democracy might not jibe with other cultures.

Because of GWB's general egotistic disinterest in the rest of the world, his foreign policy is riddled with this ethnocentric decrees. Case in point: the $15 billion that Bush pledged to the global fight against the spread of HIV. One-third of this must go to abstinence-until-marriage programs, making abstinence a higher priority in world-wide HIV prevention than condoms (here).

(Incredibly, this view is supported by Ugandan president Yoweri Museveni, who is the only invited world leader to show up at the international AIDS conference that is currently happening in Bangkok.)

Oh, I would just love to see GWB go up to a prostitute in South Africa and start preaching abstinence to her. Does he think that AIDS is spread in Africa and Asia by lapses in moral fortitude in the backseats of Cadillacs after the prom?

As a non-intellectual rich boy politician who is indifferent to the world outside of the US, Bush lacks empathy, not only with the poor huddled masses of this country but with entire cultures. I mean, this is a man who struggled through college, generally failed in the oil business, abused cocaine and was drunk until he was forty. Hey, youthful indiscretions don't always inhabit one's ability to be a politician... but it kinda depends on what the indiscretion entailed. I'd rather have leaders who were successful at SOMETHING, even if it was being a Hollywood actor or a trial lawyer, because that indicates that they have the ability to adapt rapidly to new ideas and new people.

(Speaking of which, it confounds me that John McCain can now support the man who raised doubts about his mental stability following his arduous "youthful indiscretion" as a POW. I guess being locked in a metal box teaches one amazing discipline.)

 

Sunday July 11, 2004

 

****The Cooler: Don't Rent it Today!

It looks tempting. It has William H. Macy, Alec Baldwin, and Ron Livingston. It's set in a Las Vegas casino. It's perched on the video store shelf, emanating low-key indie appeal, begging you to pick it up, take it home and watch it. But I can't let you do that. Life is just too short.

Click here to read my review of The Cooler.

 

****Venting

Yesterday, this fat balding effer in a beat-up Toyota totally ruined my day. Oh, it's just as much my fault as his, because I let this fat balding effer in a beat-up Toyota ruin my day.

Around 7pm, I was biking home on First Street in Cambridge. First Street has a highway feel that cars love to speed on, so I took the sidewalk until I had to make a left turn onto Binney. When no traffic was coming, I weaved across the lanes into the left turn lane behind about four other cars and waited for an arrow. When taking left turns, I usually get behind the last car and stop in the middle of the lane (as is my right to do so).

When the arrow turned green, I waited for the cars in front of me to move, and shakily balanced on the pedals. Then the car behind me started honking. "Get out of the road, b****!" a man shouted.

While taking the left turn, keeping pace with the cars in front of me, I turned around and got a gander at this fat balding effer in a beat-up Toyota, who immediately started making vulgar gestures right in my face. "You b****!" he said again, his car dangerously close to my bike.

I got in the bike lane on Binney Street, and his car edged closer to me, like he was trying to run me onto the curb. "Get out of the road!" he shouted again, honking his horn and revving his engine. Then he pulled in front of me, in the bike lane, and stopped his car, forcing me to break.

My first instinct was, in fact, to get out of the road... but my next instinct was pure rage. How dare this man in a car pick on a girl on a bike? How dare he think it's okay to endanger my life when I have just as much right to be on the road as he does? Would he be doing this if I was a man, or if I was a kid? Does he get off on threatening women who are basically helpless, and how dare he use me as a target in his sick sadistic aggression?

All this seethed in my mind as I bellowed at his car (which was speeding away) "Yooouuu Fffaaatttt FFF******KKK!" To which he replied with more vulgar gestures. I funneled all my rage into pedaling really fast.

I get to a red light at Third and Binney, and guess who is right beside me in a beat-up Toyota? I didn't say anything. I felt too vulnerable even to be next to his car. When the light turned, he took off in front of me without a word.

I'll never know what I did to make him so mad. If he spends any time driving in Cambridge, he must be used to cyclists in the road who don't necessarily move fast. But in any case, I'm thankful that he spared my life, even if he did ruin my day.

 

Saturday July 10, 2004

 

****Bill Maher: Politically Hilarious

We saw Bill Maher last night at Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut and he was awesome. Bill Maher is one of my favorite comedians because he's viciously intelligent (but not in that swarmy Dennis Miller way) and he can tell a joke that makes rednecks and yuppies alike howl with laughter. I guess it helps that I agree with him about most everything.

Before the show started, we watched swarms of extremely old people who looked like they had been gambling for the past 48 hours file into the Fox Theatre. Old people can certainly be Bill Maher fans, but I'd be surprised if half the audience knew exactly who he was. The people behind us didn't. (Disturbingly, I heard the man directly behind me only laugh at the jokes involving Jews.)

The first thing Bill Maher talked about when he came out was how angry he was... and indeed, he's angry, especially with our government and especially with GWB. Back when I watched Politically Incorrect in college, Maher was much more bi-partisan, and took sides with whoever made sense. But these days, Maher seems perpeually shocked and enraged that GWB proudly proclaims not to read the newspaper, because he mentions it many times on his HBO show and again last night.

Some people weren't laughing. I don't know if they were offended or just didn't get many of his jokes or both (I'm offended... but I don't know why!) His cute dirty-word jokes that don't require a basic understanding of current events got the biggest laughs. Indeed, I spied a fair amount of people leaving the theatre. If his unabashed Bush bashing didn't drive them out, or the relentless cursing, then his blistering criticism of religious people who think they're on a higher moral ground and preface every opinion with "Well, I'm a Christian, so..." did.

My favorite part of the show was when he translated rap songs into proper English and read them with a thespian's flare - "Master P's Theatre." We were howling. I won't do him justice with these other surely-garbled highlights:

 

****That's the Ticket

Not that I go for the best or strongest-looking candidates (after all, I voted Kucinich in the Primary)... but this picture of Kerry and Edwards thrilled me because many Americans do instinctively vote for the best-looking candidates, and these guys make Bush-Cheney look like dried-up old fools. I mean, these guys look genuinely fond of each other.

Bush's smug response to John Edward's being picked ("Dick Cheney could be President," implying that John Edwards couldn't) made me laugh. Not a good way to sell yourself.

 

Friday July 9, 2004

 

****Occupational Hazard #666

There are many perils involved in blasting Aphex Twin on headphones through iTunes at work, the least of which is your headphone's cord gets tangled in your phone cord, and when you swivel your desk chair to grab your stapler, the headphone cord is snagged in such a way that the plug is ripped out of the computer, effectively serenading the surrounding cubes of Java programmers with haphazard techno and a demonized voice screaming: I WANT YOUR SOUL, I NEED YOUR SOUL.

Ironically, up until that song, I listened to nothing but Beethoven Piano Sonatas all day long. Aphex Twin is coffee-break music.

 

****Back to School

I'm taking a Cambridge Center of Adult Education course about classical music. Or rather, it's taking me... on an enthralling euphonious journey! (Yeah, finally going for that Masters... in Classical Music Appreciation).

I think since classical music is primarily heard in movies and commercials, we are desensitized to its pure power. When the Mozart's Marriage of Figaro Overture is used in Sara Lee commercials, it's hard to take it seriously. In class, we're listening to Beethoven's Fifth Symphony over and over (da-da-da-dummmmm... de-de-de-dommmmm...) and it is truly the most terrifying piece of music I've ever heard (and I listen to G.G.Allin!) Parts of it make me feel like a bear is gripping the back of my neck.

Then again, classical music can get boring. Sometimes it's a relief to turn it off. I understand why Europeans were so universally taken with jazz.

 

****The Symphony

Speaking of classical music, I will now exegesis the evolution of symphony composing:

Haydn invented the symphony. Mozart perfected the symphony. Beethoven blasted the symphony to bits, magnificently. Then Mahler essentially choked the life out of it.

 

 

Thursday July 8, 2004

 

****Support The Corporation?

Should I go see The Corporation (here for site), the latest in a string of fashionable anti-establishment, mass market documentaries? On one hand, it's good that movies like this are being and distributed, and I want to in my heart of heart support the message.

Then again, aren't these filmmakers just making money by stringing together a bunch of factoid-spurting notable liberals to lecture about what is obvious to anyone with a lick of sense? Why buy a movie ticket to hear about how capitalism is consuming us, advertising is manipulating every facet of our lives, They own Us, blah blah blah... Raving cynics like myself live breath and eat that sort of stuff.

I think I'll check out Spider Man 2 instead. I'll learn something new. About spider men, or something.

 

****Wo ist die Freude?

The international sand-sculpture festival is underway in Berlin for the month of July ("Sandsation Sandskulpturenfestival"... here for site).

 

Wednesday July 7, 2004

 

****Ready for your Close-up?

I admit it: When the war in Iraq started, I didn't entirely think it was a bad thing. Sure, all war is fundamentally horrific, but it has proven itself to sometimes be necessary. I always hated Bush and I doubted Iraq had anything to do with 9/11... but didn't Saddam Hussein possess chemical and biological weapons, and doesn't he have a history of aggression towards other countries and his own people?

The fabled coalition that Bush assembled needed more international support, yet history is filled with instances when tragedy could be avoided if decisive action was taken sooner. I could see rationale for and against the war, and was torn.

Then, on April 9, 2003, I watched on the news footage of Iraqi citizens enthusiastically toppling a statue of Saddam Hussein. Supposedly the crowd of Iraqis initially tried to take down the huge statue with "a noose and single sledgehammer" and others tried to help by "throwing slippers and shoes at the statue as they waited for it to start falling" (here for ABC News article from that day), which makes them sound like a bunch of eager idiotic children, don't it?

When the US soldiers saw these laughable attempts to take down a huge metal statue with a rope, hammer and flying shoes, they kindly stepped in and used a tank tow truck... "A frenzied mob roared and jumped and danced on the fallen statue... Minutes later, they dragged the head of the statue through the crowd."

I saw the statue fall on the news. It didn't make me glad that we were bombing the hell out of Iraq, but I was touched by the apparent emotion of the crowd in making the gesture. Maybe the end justified the means.

Then, this past weekend, the LA Times reported this: "It was a Marine colonel — not joyous Iraqi civilians, as was widely assumed from the TV images — who decided to topple the statue, the Army report said. And it was a quick-thinking Army psychological operations team that made it appear to be a spontaneous Iraqi undertaking" (here)

That's kinda sickening. I mean, was everything about this war contrived? Is Iraq really filled with mass graves? Was Saddam Hussein really a tyrant? Did this have ANYTHING to do with making the world a safer and more democratic place?

 

Tuesday July 6, 2004

 

****Those Ohm-ing Republicans

What better way to show support for the war-mongering pig President than with I Heart GWB yoga pants (here)?

****Shit-Faced

A man is suing Circus Circus hotel in Las Vegas because he allegedly woke up to find 'someone else's feces on my face' from soiled bed sheets. He seeks $40,000 in damages from negligence and intentional infliction of emotional distress: 'I ... try to go to bed ... and I picture that damned crap on my face.' (here)

****Apocalypse Soon

Britain's Astronomer Royal Sir Martin Rees predicts that human civilization has only a 50-50 chance of making it to the year 2100 (here).

 

Monday July 5, 2004

 

****Tedious Camping Reflections

Tripoli Road: For Campers who want to sleep next to their cars

We camped for two nights on Tripoli Road near Lincoln, New Hampshire in the White Mountain National Forest, which has 100s of off-road campsites (with fire pits, tent clearings, and not much else). We've been to Tripoli maybe 6 times before. (Click here for an interesting history of recreation areas in New Hampshire like Tripoli that were constructed during the New Deal with federally-funded work programs.)

To find a site, you drive on this long dirt road. On Saturday, we arrived in the Scion Zipcar (here for pictures!) and most of the campsites were already inhabitated by large groups of family and friends. We saw whole villages of tents. Camping in a group is fun and comforting (more targets for the chainsaw-wielding mountain man or the hungry bear), but sometimes it's fun to luxuriate in the woods solo with my man, who frequently walks around in a tight sleeveless t-shirt, clenching a hatchet. Yow-za!

With the help of 2 forest rangers, we found a nice but hardly ideal campsite on the mouth of an abandoned mountain access road. A small stream tinkled nearby and the fire pit was huge. The mosquitoes were declaring war on our exposed skin, so we hastily set up and built a fire.

Scary Things to See in the Dark

It grew dark. We finished our yummy burritos, which we roasted on top of hot rocks pulled out of the fire. We stared at the fire and talked. Then, en noticed a strange light coming from the forest. Through the trees, it looked like three tiny pinpricks of intensely bright light.

It was a strange thing to see in a forest. It could have been another campsite, but the light didn't move like a flashlight would, and it seemed too bright to be a lantern. en suggested it was the moon shining through the trees, but it would have to be ridiculously low in the sky to be the moon.

I was secretly petrified. I thought it was a flashlight, and someone was stealthily inching towards our camp. Hollywood conditions us to explain the unknown with the absurd, so vague thoughts of aliens and ghosts also crossed my mind.

We sat tight near the fire, our eyes glued to the eerie light. An owl came by and hooted. The stream nearby seemed to change pitch. I expected a drunk New Hampshire hillbilly to come crashing out of the woods at any second, lurching at us with a sledgehammer.

Then we realized it was the moon shining through the trees, and we felt silly. The next night, I got crazier, and had myself convinced that what was probably a jet was a growling bear.

Bugger Off

While I appreciate them in theory, in reality I hate bugs. I'm not used to live things crawling all over me, leaving itchy welts in their wake. I got stung in between my fingers, a nasty fly bite on my arm, a bite in the center of my forehead, and a ring of mosquito bites around the back of my waist (from sitting down and exposing a nice expanse of skin for the effers to munch on).

We hiked an easy 5-mile loop with 2 scenic mountain ponds. The bugs were downright hostile, and the whole way I waved my arms around like an aerobic spazz.

Be a Martyr. Camp with Kids.

My family camped with a pop-up trailer tent many times when I was growing up. Once we camped on Myrtle Beach for a week, and I mean on Myrtle Beach. I remember curling up in my sleeping bag in the camper, reading ghost stories from a Weekly Reader book, listening to howling wind and angry waves.

I can only imagine how horrible it is to go camping with children. You not only must stay organized for yourself, but for helpless people. Maybe one kid would be okay, if they were obedient and didn't complain all the time. But camping's relaxing, therapeutic benefits would diminish after making repeated bathroom breaks in the woods, washing copious dishes with Mountain Suds and bottled water, and dissuading lively and daring fire-poking. Nature truly becomes the enemy.

Still, since I've camped in my post-college years, I've realized taking kids camping is important. It's humbling. It's a reminder of how far humanity has evolved. And it teaches them that life is possible without TV, internet and microwaves.

The Final Pleasure

There are few things in life more satisfying than the post-camp shower. To step under hot water and literally feel all 2-days worth of insect repellant, sweat, dirt, and campfire smoke wash off your skin is pure heaven.

 

Saturday July 3, 2004

 

****Sweet Sweet Internet

I'm luxuriating in some last-minute web surfing before high-tailing it to the White Mountains in NH (where there is no wifi... yet).

Last night we rented Dreamcatcher, a Stephen King adaptation with Morgan Freeman and Jason Lee. Pretty formulaic King; the story unraveled after an intriguing beginning but it wasn't too bad and actually made me laugh out loud a few times. It takes place in the Maine wilderness; I will surely recall the eerie scenes tonight when we're huddled in our flimsy tent in the woods .

 

****Bored on the 4th of July

Tourists are streaming into the city for the big Boston Pops fireworks event on the Charles River (here).

It's such a gyp. If you want to actually hear the Pops, you must arrive at the Hatch Shell tomorrow at 6am and camp there all freaking day. Otherwise, you must pack yourself into the throngs at a less-desirable vantage point, listen to total strangers straining to sound like they're enjoying the fireworks, and hope someone has a transistor radio tuned to the Pops performance.

Big freaking whoop. I don't need all the flashy colors and intricate exploding blossoms to amuse me tomorrow. This year, I'll be looking in the sky for something else that's truly novel: Stars. Yes, due to light pollution, I have not seen a star in quite some time. I thought I saw one last week, but it began to move and blink.

 

****I love this freaking country

Here's today's reason:

The NY Times reports that Dick Cheney attended a Yankees-Red Sox game last Wednesday, and "During the singing of 'God Bless America' in the seventh inning, an image of Cheney was shown on the scoreboard. It was greeted with booing, so the Yankees quickly removed the image" (here).

See Dick, money will buy power, the vice-presidency of the United States, a private tour of Yankee stadium, and exceptional health care that enables you to continue to cheat death...but it will never buy love and acceptance from the Masses.

Happy 4th of July, and remember: To boo Dick Cheney is to love One's Country.

 

Friday July 2, 2004

 

****Going Dutch

Dutch European Affairs Minister Atzo Nicolai states that, in preparation for the Netherlands' impending European Union presidency, "we want to portray a more modern image" by distancing the Netherlands from the "nice, but totally nutty" emblems of windmills, wooden shoes and tulips (here).

Hmm... you know what just screams "Dutch"? A naked hooker standing in a window pulling hits on a bong with her wife who is about to be euthanized.

America should follow the Dutch lead and disavow our "totally nutty" symbols of national identity, like:

  1. Baseball: The only way we could've picked a more boring, tedious national past time is if we picked golf. (Which probably would be on this list instead of baseball if heckling and binge-drinking were acceptable fan behaviors).
  2. Apple Pie: When's the last time you had a slice of apple pie? Now, when's the last time you had a bag of Doritoes, or package of Little Debbies, or a pint of Ben and Jerry's? Exactly.
  3. Guns: Keep your rifles and handguns for all I care, but flagrant gun owners who insist on the constitutional right to own military assault weapons without a permit (here) are just as nutty as tulips... if not NUTTIER.
  4. Hollywood: The prospect of global profits has motivated Hollywood to make movies for the world, not for America. The dialogue lacks depth and wit because it has to be easily translated. The action is overdone and repetitive because it "wows" people in other countries. Everyone is a stereotype. Everything is generic. American movies lack complexity because Hollywood has their eye on the audiences in Japan and Africa. Hollywood must be re-appropriated by America... sans Tom Hanks!
  5. The Bush Clan: If the Dutch want to get rid of their clogs, let's follow their lead and get rid of our clods.

 

****Quote of the Day

Nobody on his deathbed ever said, 'I wish I had spent more time at the office'. --Paul Tsongas

In honor of the impending 3-day weekend during which I will be camping in NH.

 

Thursday July 1, 2004

 

****Swiss Referees

(Rhymes with cheese.)

With the Euro 2004 semi-finals well underway (that's fussball aka soccer), everyone in England is showing their hooliganism after a loss to Portugal last week, when Swiss referee Urs Meier disallowed a crucial goal by Sol Campell.

I always thought it was just rage-prone American sports fans with otherwise empty lives who disparaged referees. Don't most civilized people realize that the ref is only doing his or her job, and that it is futile to threaten the ref post-game? And if a scapegoat is absolutely necessary, BLAME THE EFFING COACH.

Europeans not only ridicule referees, but are encouraged by their newspapers to hunt them down like the sick criminals that they are:

...Many newspapers led attacks on Mr Meier. The Sun asked readers to "let rip" and send him emails. The paper claimed the nation was "robbed" by a "half-wit" referee who made a "heartbreaking decision"... The papers published details of where he lived and worked.... The Sun followed this up early this week by sticking a huge St George flag outside his home in northern Switzerland. (here for story)

Wow. Then again, consider what would happen to a referee in Game 7 of a Boston Red Sox/New York Yankees World Series if he made a judgment call that resulted in a Yankee win. I'm picturing a head impaled on a bat.

I really feel for poor Mr. Meier. After all, who hasn't felt like a Swiss referee at one time or another?