| sunday october 31, 2004 |
****Rolling Red Sox Revue
About 3.2 million people (that's more than 1 percent of the US population) descended on Boston yesterday for the Red Sox victory parade (here), which was cleverly called a "rolling rally" so that a marching band, floats, and other normal parade features would not be necessary. That 3.2 million people will converge on a rainy Saturday in a tiny city for baseball players and coaches in Duck Boats shows how much New England is cherishing this World Series victory. Duck boats are amphibious vehicles that normally cart tourists around the city and on the Charles. The Charles River is about 1/2 mile from my house, so I 'ducked' down there for about two hours feed the egos within the ducks. Click here to view my Rolling Rally pictures. (Warning: These pics are not of the highest quality; there are likely tens of millions of better ones elsewhere on the Internet.) |
Manny
Ramirez: Jeter Jeerer |
| saturday october 30, 2004 |
****Election Links
Like every other citizen of Boston, I've completely forgot about that election thing on Tuesday because all of the local news outlets have been focusing on other important current events. Like baseball curses.
So I've had to mine the internet for my election news... here's 10 gems...
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| friday october 29, 2004 |
****5 for Friday: Various Outrages
1. NBC and ABC are developing a 9/11 miniseries (here)
2. New Trend: Doga (yoga for dogs) (here)
3. Political Bohemian Rhapsody (funny idea, but worst GWB impression ever) (here)
4. Drunken Elephants Trampling Innocent Indians! (here)
5. Woman Dares to Imply Ashton Kutcher is Not Well Hung (here)
****RIP: Kevin Capelle, the Little Newspaper Hawker with the Big Heart
I never knew his name. I never even looked him in the eye. In my mind, he was just "that dwarf who hawks the free Heralds outside of South Station in the afternoon."
But I was extremely sad to read that he died (here). In accordance with the family's wishes, the funeral director said, Mr. Capelle will be buried wearing a Boston Globe T-shirt.
(I've actually written on this site about Mr. Capelle before. I believe I expressed a desire that he'd yell "Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" in an English accent and wear tight-fitting knickers so he'd look like an authentic English newsboy.)
| thursday october 28, 2004 |
****Top Five Ways No Passing Through signs on the Red Line have been vandalized to be offensive:
5. No _ass___ __h_o_g_
4. No _ass___ __h_o___
3. No _assing __rough
2. __ _ass___ _h__ug_
1. No _ass___ th_ou__ (okay, I made this one up)
****Bostonians: Ugly
I can't believe a sports writer for the LA Times wrote a column about how ugly Bostonians are (here). "Listen, when they talk about the Boston curse, it's the curse of being so ugly... If there were any people in the park who were good-looking, it was obvious they were just visiting or promoting a Fox TV show."
He then recommends plastic surgery for us. What a stupid Californian ass hog.
****Bastards are Statistically More Likely to be Bitches
Single
mothers are more likely to give birth to girls (here).
Cohabitant parents gave birth to boys 51.5% of the time, while single moms
gave birth to boys 49.9% of the time. This disparity is high enough to suggest
that hundreds of thousands of years of evolution is at play.
This article postulates that, in evolutionary terms, women who are not in the position to provide for a son (because they are single) must make do with a daughter, who has a higher chance of reproducing than an ill-provided-for male. So it is in a single woman's best reproductive interest to have a daughter. And somehow, women evolved to do just that.
Evolution is so freaking cool.
| wednesday october 27, 2004 |
****Book Review
Eats, Shoots and Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss (here)
Books aimed at the tiny and marginal faction of grammar nerds are not supposed to become runaway bestsellers. But I guess it was inevitable, since it caters to and nurtures the prideful superiority of many book readers by snidely dissecting how the larger population misuses punctuation.
The title refers to a panda who "eats [bamboo] shoots and leaves." (I wondered, too.) Originally released in Britain, the American edition has no typesetting changes, meaning all of the marks were "outside of quotes". Which "drove me nuts", because if some American truly picked up this book to "learn correct punctuation", then they're "kinda screwed".
The extent to which I could relate to Trusse's description of the punctuation "stickler" was almost dismaying: For any true stickler, you see, the sight of the plural word "Book's" with an apostrophe in it will trigger a ghastly private emotional process... First there is shock. Within seconds, shock gives way to disbelief, disbelief to pain, and pain to anger.
Though Trusse claims to be writing for the Stickler, the Stickler should already know all the rules of punctuation she patiently explains; otherwise they are just grammar poseurs. I did not learn anything from this book aside from some interesting historical tidbits about the evolution of punctuation (for instance, the word "bracket" is one of the few English punctuation words that is not Greek or Latin in origin. It is German and refers to the kind of bracket that holds up a bookshelf).
(Hey, I know this site doesn't exemplify perfect grammar and spelling, but it's time-consuming to be creator, writer and editor. Not to make excuses or anything.)
It takes talent to make the rules of apostrophe usage interesting. I got this warm feeling reading her engaging anecdotes: I'm not the only one! Trusse recalls when as a young teenager, she purposely wrote a pretentious letter packed with big words to a new American pen-pal, whose prose did not live up to Trusse's high standards. Ha ha ha... what teenager would be geeky enough to flaunt their over-developed vocabulary? Ha ha ha.
****Those Priceless Yankees
Okay, I'm sick of baseball. Seriously. I'm even sick of talking about how sick of it I am.
But I loved this Mastercard commercial parody about the NY Yankees (here); it emphasizes what I hate most about baseball players, and that's how freaking overpaid they are.
| tuesday october 26, 2004 |
****Those Delusional Brits
I'm an admitted Anglophile, but sometimes these Brits confuse me. They hate George W. Bush's anti-intellectualism, his pride in his yobbish good-old-boy image, and his refusal to empathize with the feelings and viewpoints of others, yet Homer Simpson topped the list of fictional characters they would like to see win the US presidency (here for BBC article)?
First of all, what the heck kind of poll is that? "If you as a British citizen could vote for a fictional TV character to be US president, who would it be?" That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.
Second of all, in blatantly choosing a character for pure entertainment purposes who would not bring a lick of qualification or competency to the office (but may say something wacky to enliven those boring speeches), those Brits are not better than the Americans who put GWB in office because the other guy was boring.
Lastly, I know it's just a stupid poll and I'm taking it way too seriously. But why would anyone choose Homer over Barney?
****Ashlee Simpson
Last Saturday, SNL was funny for the first time in ten years thanks to Ashlee Simpson's lip-synching mishap (here for video, story).
****TV-B-Gone
A San Francisco man invented a universal remote that will turn off any television called TV-B-Gone (here for story). I wish I could procure one this week and hit all of Boston's sports bars in order to satisfy a totally irrational and malicious desire to disrupt the World Series enjoyment of others. Tee-hee.
| monday october 25, 2004 |
****Team America: World Police
South Park always roused strange, conflicting emotions in me: Disgust, thoughtfulness, even self-reflection. At times, the juvenile humor revolted me, but other times... it seemed profound in its quick wit and good for a laugh.
Laughter is good, right?
Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis. ~Jack Handey, "Deep Thoughts," Saturday Night Live
I knew Team America (from South Park's Trey Parker) would make me laugh, if nothing else. But I didn't expect the foul-mouthed band of marionettes to make me think.
Click
here to read my review of Team America: World Police.
| sunday october 24, 2004 |
****Are you ready for some rowing?
Yesterday Boston played host to one of the most anticipated sporting events of the year, and I was there, live and in person.
Yes, the Head of the Charles Regatta! (here) Who needs World Series tickets when you have thousands of rowers sweeping and sculling right there on the Charles River for everyone to see? Unfortunately, the Head of the Charles is a head race, which means that the rowers race against the clock, not directly against each other (the start is staggered). So it's not the most exciting sporting event to watch when you don't know any of the athletes. It was a cold, windy day. I was standing on a bridge next to volunteer cheerleaders: Two girls who hooted and hollered for every boat by name ("Let's go Brown! Let's go Vermont!") Otherwise, my fellow spectators were a reserved but incredibly buff bunch (not a beer belly or painted face in the bunch). But to watch 100s of shells cruise by on the dreary Charles (now with less pollution!) was a good way to pass a Saturday afternoon. Certainly better than doing what half of Boston was doing: "Pre-gaming" for Game 1 so that they can reach a higher level of exuberance for the Big Game. Which Boston won 11-9, good boys (here).
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Head of the Charles Regatta: Women's Fours Competing (left), Men's Eights Practicing (right)
Coxswain: Stowed Away |
****Black Mountain Dew
Mountain Dew has released a special "holiday" edition for Halloween: Mountain Dew Pitch Black! (here)
The marketing works. I have not tasted a Mountain Dew in about ten years, but suddenly the urge to do the dew is compelling.
| saturday october 23, 2004 |
****Windows XP is Aggressive
Windows is raping my computer. I don't mean in the normal, everyday way. I mean it is forcibly installing updates against my will. It says "Updates are available. Do you want to install?" and repeatedly I clicked "No! No!" until finally it just did it without my consent.
****Coffee's Fresh
For those who like to see pictures of my cat Coffee, I added a few new ones here.
| friday october 22, 2004 |
****They're Rioting In _____!
The Red Sox's decisive victory over the Yankees incited riots at my alma mater UMass Amherst (here). Rioting's all part of the UMass experience, folks. A rite of passage. (Click here to read about my UMass Riots).
***Comic Books: Only #10?!?
Seanbaby rates the 10 dorkiest hobbies here and provides a handy "Damage to Sex Life" percentage.
It's funny, because about a month ago in a store, I heard one girl tell another girl: "He collects coins!" "Coins?!?" "Yeah, he's been doing it with his Dad since he was, like, five! Isn't that hot?" "That's so hot," the other girl agreed. And these birds weren't dodos, if you know what I mean.
I suspect that the guy himself was hot, and coin-collecting added a level of mysterious deepness. Usually people have these dorky hobbies precisely because of no sex prospects. Most dorks would not forgo romance in order to persue a lifelong EverQuest addiction.
****Carrot Gold
I goggled "red carrots" (after sampling one for the first time the other day). I learned all about the history of carrot colors (here: Carrots of all colors, including black and purple, used to be cultivated, but we know them as orange due to "patriotic Dutch growers who bred the vegetable to grow in the colours of the House of Orange.")
That and plenty of other crazy carrot shit can be found at www.carrotmuseum.com.
****Guessing Game
Try to guess what could possibly be on a site with the following domain name, then click to see if you're right:
http://www.aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.com/
| thursday october 21, 2004 |
****Bath and Body Works: Schmucks
I walked past the Bath and Body Works in Downtown Crossing yesterday, and the entire store was crammed with Christmas products: Christmas Gift Sets, Christmas Candles, even Christmas Ornaments. As the web site (here) proclaims, it's the Perfect Christmas collection! Yeah, it better be Perfect, because you're planning it 2 freaking months in advance.
I get ill when stores are decked out for the holidays before Thanksgiving. Before Halloween is just insane. Must we apportion one-sixth of the year to Christmas? It's a wonderful time of year, but if we attempt to make it a season rather than a holiday, it'll start to lose its gleam.
Upon gazing in disbelief at all the Christmas crap, I declared a personal lifetime boycott of Bath and Body Works. Not that I ever shop there. It's ridiculous: 25 dollars for scented foot scrub? Is that going to make your life any happier? Invest 2 bucks in a slab of pumice and scrub away.
Strangely, all of the Halloween products (candles and anti-bacterial hand soap shaped like pumpkins) were on the 50% rack, and Halloween is still less than 2 weeks away. Insanity. Maybe there's a problem with the corporate office's calendars.
****Red Sox
Man oh man, those Yankees do suck (here).
I admit it: I didn't believe. I still don't, completely, believe they will win the World Series. But it matters little, because they beat the Yankees and I've always hated the Yankees and their ridiculous fans.
****Aphex Twin Fans!
One of his most twisted songs has been illustrated in an even more twisted Flash cartoon... (here - probably not safe for work unless you turn the sound down and keep an eye out...)
| wednesday october 20, 2004 |
***Eating the Teresa Heinz Kerry Cookie
In Family Circle magazine's First Cookie Bake-Off, Laura Bush's oatmeal-chocolate chunk cookies trounced Teresa Heinz Kerry's pumpkin spice cookies, with Bush's cookies capturing 67% of the popular vote (here). I became interested in the cookie bake-off when I read a quote by Heinz Kerry regarding her recipe: "Somebody at my office gave that recipe out and, in fact, I think somebody really made it on purpose to give a nasty recipe. I never made pumpkin cookies; I don't like pumpkin spice cookies" (here). Wow, it's true. She's a freaking loose cannon! Still, one has to marvel over a woman who can speak her mind about cookies. Seeking to really understand the issues of this election, I baked Heinz Kerry's pumpkin spice cookies, and followed the recipe faithfully (though I omitted raisins, as the corner store doesn't carry them). Conclusion? Well, anything that's mostly butter, sugar and flour can't taste thoroughly bad, but yeah. Those pumpkin spice cookies are dang nasty. |
Domestic Terrorism: The Pumpkin Spice Cookie |
****How 'Bout those Sox?
If the Red Sox tied the series against the Yankees (here) only to lose tonight's deciding tie-breaker...
I fear for the potential crushed spirits of many.
| tuesday october 19, 2004 |
****Take Us Out of the Ball Game
For someone who doesn't like baseball, I sure talk about it a lot. But during a Red Sox/Yankees playoff series, it's inescapable. These games actually mean something, making the sport infinitely more thrilling. Call me a fair-weathered fan but most of the year I have better things to do than watch baseball. If everyone watched baseball as avidly as hardcore fans, our economy as we know it would collapse.
Tonight's game, I predict, it will all end: The unconquerable Yankees will overpower our slovenly little band of Red Sox and put an end to all the hope that these last 2 Red Sox's wins have inspired.
It's tempting to believe that the Red Sox will win this series, but if hat happens, I'll know Major League Baseball is scripted more strictly than the WWF.
****November is National Novel-Writing Month
Get set to start writing that 175-page (50,000-word) book you've always have in you... in 30 days! (That's 1666.66 words a day, which qualifies as prolific).
The web site (here) bluntly states that this "seat-of-your-pants approach" means that you "will be writing a lot of crap." Yes, 175 pages of crap, in fact!
But it is an excellent idea for make-believe writers like myself, and after reading the FAQ (here), it's something I would consider doing if not for the GREs and other activities.
A romance, of course, because sex scenes can certainly widdle down a word count. The heroine would be named "Britney Helena von Horn", and would be frequently addressed as such. She would sing a lot of songs under her breath, and describe everything to everyone in a highly annoying fluffy prose in which she stacked overly redundant adjectives. The hero (Brad Gustav de la Rosa) and her loved to illicitedly discuss Marxist philosophy at great length. Their romance is forbidden by King Henry the Great, who enjoys berating whores about their personal defects.
Yes indeedy, "writing a lot of crap."
| monday october 18, 2004 |
****Quote of the Every Day
Poor H.L. Mencken. He has a name-recognition quotient that is lower than this season's cast of MTV's Road Rules despite being one of the great literary figures of the early 20th century (here). However, though his name may not mean much to most, Mencken achieved infamy due to possibly one of the most relevant quotes about America ever: "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public." --H.L. Mencken It's funny, it's true, and everyday we can point at another product available for our consumption and say "Hey, look at that crazy new object for sale. Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public." We may not remember who said it or be able to say specifically who the man was without turning to Wikipedia, but by carrying on his wisdom, we honor him. So with a nod to Mencken... pictured on the right is the Blow Up Doll Halloween Costume (here to purchase). Love the mittens... they really give one a slight spasm of fright. |
Be a Doll, Would You? |
****The W is for Whatever
Here's a joke site supporting George W. Bush for reelection... the site gained some notoriety after the author availed himself of some free advertising on CNN (here). It's pretty funny if you can get past the implied intellectual elitism.
| sunday october 17, 2004 |
****Pastimes
Last night at Avalon I saw the Cramps, a band I have long admired (here for previous instance of Cramps love). Yeah, they're old, I'm old, and the crowd was for the most part... old. But Lux Interior's crude crowd banter and stage antics coupled with Ivy's drop-dead gorgeous stoic guitar-hero bravura made us old people shimmy and shake to some of the best American rock music ever made.
I bet I had a better time shaking my butt to "Dames Booze Chains And Boots" and "Dope Fiend Boogie" than the folks across the street at Fenway park had watching last night's nightmarish Red Sox game, in which they got chloroformed by the Yankees, 19-8 (here for story).
Only the most pea-brained Red Sox fan truly believes that Boston can pull off 4 straight wins against the Yankees, probably under delusion this hardship is a part of the whole mythology: That the Red Sox can only win the World Series by beating the Yankees 4 times in a row in a do-or-die situation.
So what happened? The Yankees are just a better baseball team. They have better pitchers, better coaches, and better haircuts/grooming habits. I can't deny that I am gleefully watching them crash and burn. All this Red Sox hooey gets really boring. I had enough when stories about Nelson de la Rosa made the evening news. Nelson de la Rosa is a 32-year old Dominican dwarf who pitcher Pedro Martinez adapted as a good-luck charm. Like a rabbit's foot, only human (here for story). No, that is not de la Rosa pictured on the right. I decline to post a picture of de la Rosa out of principle and because he is creepy.
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Get Used to It, Kid (from Boston.com) |
| saturday october 16, 2004 |
****Lick My Bike Lock
You know, Boston's a real college town. And these college kids, man, their energy is just infectious. I absorb their creative juice osmotically. Really. It's what keeps me young. These walking bundles of delightful vagaries. (Yes, I'm being sarcastic, but only a little).
Gotta admire the cheek of the young men who stuffed a flyer into my bike lock at Kendall Square the other night, advertising their web site, LickMyJesus.com. Hey, it worked on me, especially since the flyer made reference to killing squirrels, an interest of mine. The site, which involves them taking pictures of themselves and turning the pictures into a comic strip, would probably be more amusing if I knew them... but to work within such a concept is admirable.
I admire any college kid who takes the initiative to be creative. It means they're not driving around Boston in a gas-burning vehicle, patronizing our alcohol-dispensing industry, or investing themselves into their studies so that they can take my job in a few years.
| friday october 15, 2004 |
****It's Raining
Ever see a grown man cry? At work? In front of his boss?
A co-worker teared up when he heard tonight's Red Sox/Yankees game at Fenway was to be cancelled due to heavy showers. Just a tear and a barely discernable inflexion in his voice.
| thursday october 14, 2004 |
****Waiting for the Train
Most afternoons, I wait for the Red Line at South Station with my headphones on, trying to block out the legions of fellow commuters pressing onto the platform.
People-watching during evening rush hour is an unexceptional activity. Commuters don't really do anything. Generally less people read the newspaper than in the morning, and some read books, but the majority are just commuting. So sometimes I observe human "waiting for the train" decorum. There is not a great deal of behavorial variation in this endeavor:
The Ticking Timebomb Commuter
Every crowded platform has one: The person who looks like they're going to convulse if the train doesn't arrive. They stand on the yellow line, leaning slightly to gaze into the tunnel as if ordering the illumination of arrival. Their faces wear a frown that betrays narcissistic convictions: Why isn't the train coming? I'm waiting for it! It's doing this on purpose. The incompetence... the sheer gall of the MBTA to make me wait for the train like a common person! These people take the lack of train very, very personally.
Proving that megalomania knows no class, race, gender, or age... there is no one type of this commuter, although older men in business suits grasping their briefcases in clenched fists are the most prevalent. But I've seen old ladies, young ladies, and little boys do the same thing. I tell you, people who internalize train schedules do not live happy lives.
The Impatient Commuter
The Impatient Commuter is quite common; they are basically the Ticking Timebomb with lower blood pressure. Rather than stare fixedly at the tracks, they allow themselves an occasional glance. Their gaze wonders from tracks, to advertisement, to ground, to hands, to hot butt, to crazy homeless man, to tracks, to possible suicide bomber, to unruly children, to fat butt, to tracks, to watch, to advertisement, to tracks...
The Zen Commuter
The Zen Commuter has accepted that they must commute, and that they will arrive at their destination when they arrive. These are usually women. They walk around with smiles, initiate small talk with other Zen Commuters, and are determined to use the time constructively by practicing deep breathing and/or Kegel exercises.
The Zombie Commuter
The Zombie Commuter looks like they just spent the past 8 hours counting paper clips. They're coming down off of the final Dunkin Donuts speed injection of the afternoon. Their eyes are slightly closed, their mouths are slightly open, and you can tell they can't wait to get home, sit on the couch, and eat an entire Papa John's pizza.
The Happy Commuter
I like my commute. It includes several walks of urban scenery, it's environmentally sound, and it's cheap. It doesn't involve a car or bus, and it's rarely more than 25 minutes from door to work. I'm lucky to have my commute and really do appreciate it every day. I listen to my headphones and think about things. Sometimes I look around at people and spy similar looks of contentment. The Happy Commuter though, is prone to moments of impatience, but given that our lives are momentarily in the hands of the MBTA, this is only natural.
****Long Distance Rapings
I know rape is NEVER funny. I would never make joke about rape or someone who has been raped.
But long-distance raping? In South Africa, it's called Mtshotshaphansi, and it's some sort of magic that women believe gives men the power to rape them without being physically present (here for article).
I will invoke the lasting influence of my broad-minded liberal arts education that taught me everything is subjective... and not say a word.
| wednesday october 13, 2004 |
****Looking for Booby Bombs
Airport security screenings are approaching bold new frontiers. A San Diego woman is upset because, after being flagged for an extra security check at the Denver airport, Transportation Security Administration officials wanted to give her a thorough breast check, "going beneath, between and above the breasts" (here). She declined.
Call me an un-American prude, but yeah, I would do the same. "I'm going to feel your breasts now" - that's something your medical doctor says to you, not someone who works in an airport, even if it is another female.
In a civilized society, we can refuse to be treated like criminals and animals when we haven't done anything wrong except buy a ticket on a commercial airline. Are men's crotches getting searched... beneath, between and above? Are they going to do strip-searches? And hey, the terrorists could have explosives implanted into their stomachs. How far is too far?
This story would not have held my attention had I not read a review of Alastair Gordon's NAKED AIRPORT: A Cultural History of the World's Most Revolutionary Structure in the Washington Post (here). The book is about the evolution of the airport from a "starting point for journeys that promised romance, excitement and the unknown" to a "chilly, chaotic, almost unimaginably hideous mausoleum."
The reviewer comments how the change in airport architecture reflects a stark modern reality about airports: "You .. place yourself in the hands of a processing system that is rude, dehumanizing, inefficient and exhausting... the modern airport is a dreadful place in virtually every respect, and the one certainty is that it will only get worse... The modern airport is the Tenth Circle of Hell." And they can fondle us.
| tuesday october 12, 2004 |
****Another Series with the New York Yankees: Yawn
If the City of Boston were a person, right now it would be babbling: Blah Blah Blah Red Sox Yankees Blah Blah.
Its heart beat would be steadily threatening a cataclysmic pace, spurred by a passel of testosterone -related hormones surging in its plexus.
Its fists and toes would be clenched. A steady stream of blood would seep from the point at which its teeth sank into its lower lip, and it would taste the blood, and it would crave more.
I can't pretend to understand New England's almost ethereal love and loyalty for what is basically a corporate entity comprised of over-compensated soldiers of fortune whose mission is to hit a fast-moving ball with a bat really far. These guys aren't heroes. They're highly-specialized athletes playing a tediously-paced sport, yet Boston has made ourselves cursed and these baseball players our redeemers.
I've said before the New England has always espoused victim hood. It's where our liberal sensibilities like charity and social welfare come from. We were founded by victims... back when Protestant White People could be victims. We've absorbed generations of other oppressed folks: Irish, African-Americans, Jews, and every successful Romanian there ever was.
Now we're not victims anymore, so we invent new demons. Or the media and Major League Baseball can invent our demons, and hound us with it day after day on the news and during the games the notion that Boston is a victim of a curse and that the New York Yankees are our rivals. It's all in you mind, folks. This "timeless" rivalry. It's been vaguely one-sided for 5 years, but the Yankees didn't care about Boston until we started to force them to. The point is, people are making money off of this rivalry, so everyone involved plays it off.
It's just boring at this point. The City of Boston's brain is on a meathook somewhere.
****I am Learn
Any one can keep a blog. Even no one.
(Click here for I am Learn, a blog written that is written by a Perl script that was written by this guy.)
| monday october 11, 2004 |
****I Had a Very Nice 2-Day Weekend, Thanks
Well, I tell you, I had a great 2-day weekend. I loved it how, on Sunday afternoon, when I finally began to relax... I had to start thinking about Monday morning. Working on Monday morning, that is. A day off on Columbus Day seems to be a luxury confined to public servants and students.
****Dazed and Confused and Litigious
| Three Texas men are suing their former high school classmate, filmmaker Richard Linklater (here), because they claim that in 1993's classic movie Dazed and Confused, their names and likenesses were used to create characters and this has caused "them to suffer relentless harassment, embarrassment and ridicule." I won't deny that Bobby Wooderson, Andy Slater and Richard "Pink" Floyd may have a case, given that their names the same as 3 of favorite characters in that movie. But this movie came out over ten years ago.The window of opportunity to make a fuss is closed. Perhaps their reaction time was hindered by all the heavy drugs they did in high school? These men should be downright PROUD to be immortalized in cinema. It's the best in life these fellows could hope for! Especially Wooderson: "These high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age. I love them redheads!" And Slater: "Didja ever look at a dollar bill, man? There's some spooky shit goin' on there. And it's green too." And the real-life Floyd is a car salesman. Who wouldn't love to buy a car from Floyd? Maybe they've gotten older and realized it's not cool to be approached by semi-strangers in front of your kids: "Slater-san, how's it goin'? You effin' wasted?" While it may have been more prudent for Linklater to change their names in the movie, this lawsuit disturbs me. Creative inspiration, exacting a revenge... |
Slater: This is your life. |
****Holiday in Mesopotamia
These pictures of US soldiers make a tour of duty in Iraq look like summer camp with GI armament...
until you get to the "really cool" grave yards here.
| sunday october 10, 2004 |
****Sanguine Scrimmage: "Big Red First Down!"
When I think Harvard, many associations pop into my mind: "Smart"... "Prestige"..."Nerds"... "Endowment"... and "Football."
But due to pure laziness on my part, I have never participated in the Harvard football experience. Which is a crimson crime, because Harvard boasts a team steeped in tradition. Former National Champions, folks. Just look at this:
National Champions: 1890, 1898, 1899...
1910, 1912, 1913, 1919... And then: Drought.
After 1919, Harvard's dreams of another national football championship were dashed forever when more than eight colleges with football teams came to exist. Harvard never recovered; it remains a stain on the university to this day.
How will Harvard ever attract the right kind of college student without a Division I football team?
On Saturday, we headed across Cambridge to Harvard stadium to witness a ruddy battle of the rouges: The Crimson versus Big Red. Harvard versus Cornell. The Ivy League, baby. We sat directly on the 50-yard line on Cornell's side, smack in front of the most rabidly vocal fans who were, we soon discovered, an assortment of players' parents. In particular, there was a woman repeatedly shouting "Let's Go Big Red!" and a man attempting the coach the team, from 30 rows up. I had no idea Cornell's nickname was Big Red. It amused me. During the Star-Spangled Banner, everyone shouted "Red!" during the "rocket's red glare" part. And I loved "Come on, we need a Big Red First Down! Big Red First Down!!!" The play action wasn't too impressive. Very high school. But there were some exciting moments, and just the experience of Ivy League football interested me. |
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One of the strangest parts of the game was the Crimson Cheerleaders, who did push-ups during their routines. I can only imagine that the push-ups were to dispel the notion of the cheerleader as a pretty face in a short skirt, and proclaim "Hey! We're athletes! No knee push-ups for us!" While I was impressed, the push-ups did little to rally the crowd. In fact people seemed a little confused. Harvard won (here) 34-24, but we actually left after half time, having sufficiently experienced Ivy League football. Speaking of Gentleman with Pigskin, click here for a visual journey of John Kerry's misadventures with the football. Please, vote for him anyway. |
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| friday october 8, 2004 |
****Geometry Lessons
It's amazing how the mind, given time and unuse, can suppress entire academic disciplines like geometry... but not plot lines to A Team episodes.
My GRE class is awakening all these memories of 6th grade geometry class: Mr. Brandt, who made us sit alphabetically order all year long. He had a giant compass that he armed with blue chalk, and I coveted it. These details I remember vividly, but not so much the blather about triangles, parallel lines, alternating interior angles, and so on.
Perhaps this is why, in my GRE class, I have become the annoying "older student", who is paying for this class out of her own pocket and sacrificing her leisure time, so, dammit, she's going to understand triangles at the expense of the sanity of her fellow pupils by interrogating the teacher at every opportunity.
My GRE teacher is an interesting man, obviously passionate about teaching. He prepared for our geometry review by carefully illustrating each concept on a large pad of paper so we can gaze appreciatively at his handiwork while he expounds on the wonders of the isosceles right triangle.
He talked about inscribed polygons, which is a polygon whose angles all intersect with a circle. "And here is the most beautiful inscribed polygon of them all," he said dramatically, flipping the sheet of paper and revealing:
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The "beautiful" pentagram! I've learned in GRE class all about this lovely cult of Greeks who called themselves the Pythagoreans (here) who worshipped the Pentagram. I believe the teacher is trying to make the material interesting by talking about satanic math, but this is all I managed to retain about geometry. And it won't be on the GRE. While my hopes for an outstanding Math GRE score fade with each GRE lesson, I am a sentence completion demon: 30 out of 30 on the sentence completion practice questions, which I blazed through on the 20-minute subway ride from Alewife to Kendall, surrounded by tipsy college students singing U2 songs. Hey, if I learned nothing at UMass, I learned how to block out the noise of drunk college kids. Speaking of geometry, tonight en and I are eating at the swank restaurant Radius. Because geometry is everywhere, once you are reminded of its fundamentals.
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| thursday october 7, 2004 |
****The Beastie Boys are no longer Beastie, nor Boys: Discuss
About four months ago, I acquired the Beastie Boys latest release, To the 5 Boroughs. During the first listen, I mentally composed a seething, hate-filled lambasting of the release, vowing to inform the world that this was not only the worst Beastie Boys album ever, but perhaps the biggest musical travesty of the year.
What stopped me at the time from penning a To the 5 Boroughs poison ode was nostalgia, an emotion I wrestle with all too often.
I remember as an innocent pre-teen hearing Licensed to Ill and seeing the "Fight for your Right" video (and being stunned to find out that my beloved Susanna Hoffs, singer of the Bangles, was dating one of these rapping ruffians!) I didn't like rap music, but the Beastie Boys were funny, smart and some of their riffs ("Brass Monkey" and "Paul Revere" in particular) stuck in my head. In high school, I drove around suburbia with my friends, blasting Paul's Boutique and Check your Head while shaking my romp. In college, my roommates and I would spontaneously dance to Ill Communication.
Indeed, looking back on it, as I made my tumultuous sojourn through life, the Beastie Boys were always there. I took them for granted and never really got too crazy into them, but in my musical diet, they were staples. Why?
Because they were fun. When you dance to the Beastie Boys, you can whip out even the most absurdly dorky dance moves and still look cool.
Because every song featured a delightfully original hook that ever got old, whether it be musical or verbal or often times both. Do you know how many times I've sung along to "The Sounds of Science"? 100s upon 100s of times.
Because they could be righteous without being preachy. Like in "What Goes Around, Comes Around" : "With two black eyes, your girl ain't that pretty... Why do you want to treat your girl like that?" I mean, is there a cooler way to rally against domestic violence?
Compare this with the Beastie's rampant left-wing activism of the past four or five years. To quote a band who recognized that a band whose public image has overshadowed their music should just expire themselves: NO FUN.
I have no problem with bands evolving, but judging from To the 5 Boroughs, the Beastie Boys music has become secondary to their preachy message. And yes, we must all admire them for this message, but boys, you've become musically boring. People bought the album because you're living legends, but let's face it you so-called Beastie Boys: You released a downright shitty album.
| wednesday october 6, 2004 |
****A Dirty Shame
Like most of movie-going America, John Waters first exposed his strange little mind to me in the movie classic Hairspray, which I saw for the first time at a birthday party in my early 'tweens. We all laughed uproariously at Divine and danced around like fools to all of the songs. God, we must have looked sillier than Ricki Lake herself.
Cry-Baby and Serial Mom were more interesting than entertaining; his ability to make "normal" people appear to be sick in the head appealed to me immensely, as did his barefaced manner of story-telling.
In college, some of my film major friends rented Pink Flamingos. I watched a lot of movies with these kids, but Pink Flamingos was the only one that left us aghast at the perfect marriage of poor taste, depravity and creativity. I remember watching Pink Flamingos and feeling like I was in an after-school special:
Meredith was running with the wrong crowd: Artsy film majors. Before she knew it, she was watching movies featuring talking anuses instead of studying for her Chaucer exam!
It was an incomparable feeling of sleaziness. The world needs more people like John Waters making movies, so I eagerly anticipated seeing A Dirty Shame (which totally earned its NC-17 rating).
Click here to read my review of A Dirty Shame.
| tuesday october 5, 2004 |
****Chappelle's Show
I rented the entire first season of Chappelle's Show (here on Amazon) on DVD last Saturday... and the clock is ticking! It's due back at the store at an impending hour, and I have 5 more episodes to watch... plus the 30 minute blooper reel.
I have digested a massive amount of Dave Chappelle in the past 48 hours. It's all just a sticky blur of funny exploited stereotypes and breast jokes. It's probably not as noticeable when a single episode is watched per week, but seeing it all at once, I really come away with the sense that Dave Chappelle finds female mammary glands to be hilarious.
Here's the Sound Board on Comedy Central's web site. I like Tyrone ("Is this the 5 o'clock free crack giveaway... I want some crack!") I just watched that skit, in fact, about ten minutes ago. I'm sooo multi-media.
Interestingly, in episode 12 (the finale, which I watched out of order in case I don't get through it) Dave has a parody of a reality show in which the couples trade spouses. It's called Trading Spouses.
Um, isn't that now an actual show on Fox (here)? The reality television genre: Impervious to parody.
****Today's Lesson...
| monday october 4, 2004 |
****If it isn't cooked, it's apparently Legal
I'm gonna skewer the august local institution Legal Sea Foods (here) like a bunch of over-cooked, under-sized scallops. (I never run out of things to complain about.)
Though I've only lived in Boston for 5 years, I remember when Legal Sea Foods consistently delivered a superb dining experience. The service had a sophisticated, polite air that appealed more than "service-with-a-snide" swankier restaurants. The food was expensive but still a bargain, and always presented with subtle pride.
But in the past 2 years or so, simultaneous with their expansion along the Eastern seaborg, the overall quality of the Legal Sea Foods has plummeted. Ensured of local accolade and the almighty tourist dollar, Legal has relaxed their standards and are well on their way to becoming Red Lobster with overwrought pretensions.
Yesterday I took some out-of-town visitors to the Legal Sea Foods by the Aquarium. I ordered the Tortilla/Apple/Goat Cheese Salad with Shrimp, which would have been a good dish... had the shrimp been fully cooked.
When I pointed out the spots of gray rawness on the shrimp to the waitress, she nodded gruffly and came back with a single shrimp on a plate. As if the single shrimp made up for the five half-cooked shrimp in my salad. Upon the next complaint, the manager herself delivered my replacement shrimp and reduced our bill.
A nice touch, sure, but being served half-cooked shrimp is a blatant indication that the vaulted Legal Sea Food commitment to food safety (here) is about as firm as their baked whitefish.
And the rolls are a mere mockery of the yesteryear's yummy doughy goodness.
****Huh? Debate?
Last Thursday there was nothing on television, just some stuffed suits droning On and On on every channel... I don't know, some new reality show? So I read a book.
Honestly, watching GWB talk stresses me out, so I opted out of the debate. This told me everything I needed to know here. This showed me everything I wanted to see here.
| sunday october 3, 2004 |
****Things I Thought About on a Treadmill
- Maybe I should start getting the Globe home delivery Thursday through Sunday instead of just Sunday.
- Maybe I should just grow-up already and get the NYTimes delivered 7 days a week.
- Do I have enough eggs to last until next weekend?
- What would sauteed lettuce taste like?
- I want a Godiva chocolate bar.
- I am a huntress on the African veldt, chasing down a bucking oryx. My stride is confident, sturdy, and quick.
- I should really tie my shoelaces tighter.
- I haven't done a heavy biceps workout in over a month.
- Should I get the new Interpol album Antics?
- That woman on the stairstepper is sweating entirely too much.
- "Of course, no man is entirely in his right mind at any time." - Mark Twain
- Ever since my gym morphed from slightly-scary Club Fitness into a Gold's Gym franchise, my opinion of the facilities has dropped. The random ceiling leaks, strange industrial smell, and antiquated bathroom fixtures were okay for Club Fitness, but I would expect a little more from a Gold's Gym.
- I wonder if Video Oasis has Mean Girls on DVD?
- If Bush loses the election, will Mitt Romney run against John Kerry in 2008? The South would be forced to vote for a Massachusetts politician!
- If Bush wins the election, how will we put up with him for another 4 years?
- If my office had an arm-wrestling contest, I bet I'd beat all the other females.
| saturday october 2, 2004 |
****Yuppie Samurai
I must comment on the ever-increasing size of umbrellas carried by commuters in Boston. The span of umbrellas is keeping pace with the girth of internal combustion engine vehicles. In both cases, bigger is better… if you’re the owner.
Of course you’ll stay drier under a table-sized disk of nylon, but when you’re walking in a crowded downtown area with 100s of other people in the pouring rain, your beach umbrella makes you selfish. You prevent two-way traffic from flowing freely on sidewalks. You bash the sides of other people’s umbrellas. You take up too much space and interfere with the happiness of others.
Sure, if you’re on a picnic or a walk in the country, take your five-foot tall umbrella for shelter from the weather. But when you’re walking through the Financial District, don’t try to intimidate others with the size of your umbrella! The size of your umbrella has no correlation with wealth or status.
A while ago, I saw a man in a business suit walking with a massively-sized umbrella hanging on his back in a sling. I pictured it starting to rain and him whipping it out like a sword… the Yuppie Samurai will stop at nothing to protect his Hugo Boss suit!
****Say, Are You Tourists?
In Government Center at Fanueil Hall yesterday, I waited at a stoplight next to an older couple dressed in near-matching sneakers, jeans and windbreakers.
A car honked briefly at a pick-up truck who was hesitating on a left turn for no apparent reason. The woman looked at the car drive away, looked at her husband, and said aggrievedly “What was that all about?”
****Bad for the Baby!
This picture of a newspaper clipping is hilarious.
| friday october 1, 2004 |
****Quiet, Grrrl!
On the Red Line, 8:30pm, Yesterday.
I'm sitting next to 2 obvious college girls: A cute brunette wearing an ill-fitting vintage black dress with a blue velvet bodice, and a more-than-plump dirty blond in a CBGBs T-shirt. The blond was lecturing the brunette loud enough that I turned off my headphones when I heard some of the things she was saying.
[The gist, though with some paraphrasing…]
“Intercourse is just so like gross. I mean, why do women let men crawl on top of their bodies and do that?” I couldn’t see the brunette’s reaction but standing above us, an older black man wearing business casual clothes and holding a newspaper stared at the girls with disbelief.
“I mean, the female sex organs weren’t designed to get pleasure from male sex organs. And it’s so unsanitary. It’s like so gross.”
The brunette said in a serious voice, “Is this something you have felt your whole life?”
“Well, when I found out what sex was, yeah. But I’ve always found men’s bodies to be like freaky. So sweaty and hairy, you know?”
Then
the train stopped at Kendall and I got off. Ah, how I love public transportation
for exposing me to the insights of today's college students.
****Best Baseball Story Ever
Los Angeles, April 8, 1984- Former Pittsburgh Pirates' pitcher Dock Ellis says he was under the influence of LSD when he pitched a 1970 no-hitter against the San Diego Padres (here for story).
In high school, there was a football player of middling ability who was widely believed to have taken LSD the night before a Saturday game... and never came down in time for the game. He was reportedly "smiling a lot."