The writings at this site are from late 2005 to late 2007.

Whatever new blogging there is from here on will reside here.

Well there you go. The blogging experiment has ended, it seems: No posts in almost 3 months, after a pretty consistent coupla years. Fun writing practice. Did my first piece of journalism for hire recently, so there ya go.

PS: I’ve chosen which script I’m gonna shoot, finally… Maybe I’ll do a blog on the making of. Hm.

Continuing in the “faith = WTF??” thread, lookee here! Animal sarifice as jet maintenance/safety procedure. Gives a whole new meaning to “on a wing and a prayer.”

And speaking of “faith,” why is this guy considered nuts, while this guy’s identical declarations are respected? Augh.

Just when I thought it couldn’t make itself any more ridiculous, it goes and says this. I suppose this means it now considers itself among the “faithful.” Very nice.

Ist published.

$73 Million. A record, apparently. For this ?

Don’t get me started. All I can say is, I hope the lady truck driver who bought the Pollock for five bucks gets the last laugh. Even tho the dumb broad turned down nine mil (yes, an offer of $9 Million) for the thing, holding out for what she believes her splattery objet to truly be worth.

Because truck drivers know about these things. Greedy b*tch.

I spent the day with an old friend last week. We first met in the late 80’s, when I sold some speakers to him (both he and I are guitarists). He was a gentle soul, polite and funny, the deal went smoothly, and was soon forgotten. A year or three passed, and everything changed: My marriage asploded, as did the band I was playing with. I moved, embarked on a Tragic Love Affair, and looked for a new band.
I met the drummer of a band seeking a lead guitarist, a nice guy who dropped off a cassette (yes, pre-home-CD). The songs was amazing, and I was VERY impressed. I went down for a jam/audition, and the first thing I noticed, as I loaded in, was my old speakers. I looked up, and there was the singer/songwriter of the band: The same guy I’d met years before, who’d purchased them.

It was Meant To Be. I joined, and we played, and he consoled me through the end of my Tragic Love Affair. We’ve remained close ever since, despite his move out of state and long stretches of not being able to see each other. His was the last “real” band I played in… I subsequently moved on from music as a career altogether. Everything changed.

One of the upsides of the time compression that comes with age is that the spaces between seeing loved ones mean less and less… Hanging out that day last week, my friend and I picked right up as if no time had passed, caught up on the details and laughed a lot. It was great. To top it off, he gave me a CD with some of the old tunes on it. I listened to them all the way home.

It’s easy to be a trash-talking asshole when you’re hiding. Just check out the comments section of any provocative news site or blog with a sizable audience. And tho jocks don’t have the anonymity of the web, they do have the bubble of in-studio cohorts egging them on, plus a (real or imagined) sycophantic fan base hanging on every word… “Out there.”

Personally, I like seeing this kind of pop-stupidity getting the smackdown it deserves. It’s like when the schoolyard bully runs into the dweeb’s big brother and wets his pants. Or when Stuntman Mike gets his comeuppance in Death Proof.

And n*gga please, don’t be tellin’ me that just ’cause black people (rappers, etc.) use “the N word” it’s okay for white people to use it… It’s not, and everyone knows it. That’s just stupid.

The abu ghraib debacle seemed to mostly be one of those “cost of war” things… Dehumanized people doing inhuman things to other dehumanized people, and so on.

But there was a hidden bonus to this example of the current administration’s (self) touted managerial expertise. When Iran (arguably one of the biggest winners so far in the Iraq “war”) decided to toy with some Brit soldiers, the world was shockingly silent. Why? Liberal bias?

My theory is that once the world leader in human rights (that’s right, us) was busted letting torture basically get a free pass (no management heads rolled), and then argued for it, it was pretty tough to work up any real head of steam over what seemed like a forced vacation by comparison.

“Cute and fun and sweet” is what Hampton Carney (smiling, left), spokesman for Abercrombie & Fitch, says about the thong undies sold at its Abercrombie stores (for sexy little shoppers, 7 to 14 years old). Thong panties, sized for ten-year-old (and younger) girls. With the words “eye candy” and “wink wink” printed on them, in playful colors. Eye candy.

That Abercrombie & Fitch… So edgy! So now! So incredibly f*cked up they make a strong argument for increased government regulation of retail practices. What would Saddam do?

Apparently there’s a really famous hunter, a hunter’s hunter, a gunman’s gunman, who writes about this stuff, and who recently made the career-ending mistake of calling assault rifles “terrorist guns.”

And when I say career ending, I mean he’s over, apparently losing endorsements, syndications, the whole lot. An NRA lynching. Because they know. Oh, they know. It’s this kind of all-or-nothing idiocracy that makes the NRA so lovable. I mean, they’re called ASSAULT RIFLES… Pretty safe to say, people who use them to “hunt” are either terrible shots or doing something other than food-gathering. Really, it’s okay to give an inch, people. And no, we’re not gonna pry anything from your cold, dead hands. Enjoy.

A short story I wrote is going to be published soon as part of an anthology. I came across the project on Boing Boing, where writers were asked to submit pieces based a simple idea: The liquids being collected from boarding passengers are apparently (at some airports) being dumped into single, large barrels or tanks for disposal. What strange sort of chemistry might result? And what on earth might come about from such a concoction?

Have a read, if you’re so inclined. In fact, do what you like with it… The collection is being published under the Creative Commons license, essentially an open-source alternative for creative works. Yay, open source! BTW, the image above captures the tone of the story perfectly. I don’t know where it came from, but I love it.

…Should ever

Good God, y’all. Now we have chimps using weapons. What next? Chimps starting religions?

I think Mr. Mothersbaugh said it best:

The tell us that / we lost our tails
evolving up / from little snails.
I say it’s all / just wind in sails.
Are we not men?

The bad news: These farking dickwad ‘Panzees are using their tools “to jab at smaller primates.” Christ.

One of the more amusing things I’ve encountered is guys like this who style themselves as Gay Icons, and then are shocked when everyone comes to the logical conclusion.

I remember taking my wife to a birthday party down south, behind the Orange Curtain. It was for my old bass player from way back when, and some guys from that time were there, including one wearing, I kid you not, black leather chaps, vest, and captain-style hat. It wasn’t a Village People costume; he’d ridden down (from Vegas, I believe) on his bike, and this is just what he wore. It was all my wife could do to contain her laughter whenever she saw him. Looking back, I have to believe there was something tongue-in-cheek about the getup. We didn’t say anything, though. You never know.

Oh, if only this incredible debt the US is accumulating could somehow motivate the government to do something smart.

How about we repeal Prohibition 2.0? Think of the revenue if this stuff were regulated and taxed. There does appear to be a gathering consensus (about frickin’ time) that declaring “war” on something as innocuous as pot is economic folly, not to mention a great way to create an entire generation of “criminals” (786,545 in ‘05).

The leading paragraph of a story that caught my eye today:

Unintentional fatal drug overdoses in the United States nearly doubled from 1999 to 2004, overtaking falls to become the nation’s second-leading cause of accidental death, behind automobile crashes, the government reported.

Anyone stupid enough to take something that in it’s advertisements warns of intestinal bleeding, headaches, loss of appetite, painful urination, etc., etc., etc., is really just putting on a “pick me!” teeshirt during herd thinning season (year ’round, btw). And for what… Inability to get their “full eight hours?” To stop that “restless leg??” News flash: Can’t sleep? Get up and do something, for Chrissakes. Got the urge to move your legs? GET SOME F%CKING EXERCISE. Or just do like I do: bounce your knees, like a spaz.

As for the illegal drugs, well, that’s just painting a giant bull’s eye on your head. Anyone taking anything without any idea of where it came from, who made it, what’s really in it, etc. is playing Russian roulette anyway. MAO!!

If you like words, the Internet Anagram Server is awesome. Type in anything � like, say, your name � and out comes a ridiculously long list of possible reshufflings. Brilliant.

…But he’s still in charge. This tip of the iceberg conviction might not change anything, but things like this (not to mention things like THIS) go a long way in de-legitimizing the Bush Years. As if the shameful squandering of worldwide good will wasn’t enough. Begone, already.

No, it’s gettin’ hot in here. Even NASA agrees. Oh yeah, they already did, we just didn’t hear about it:

�A few months ago this press release might have been seriously edited or not approved�

Now, I can understand reluctance to sign on to anything resembling a conspiracy theory. I have intelligent, reasonable friends who poo-poo global warming. But as scientific consensus approaches frickin’ unanimity, isn’t it time to admit that God did not create the earth 6,000 years ago, and that the climate isn’t just “fluctuating?” The facts, ma’am. No, really. Please.

Addendum: Wow, and yay. Bush just acknowledged the connection between fossil fuel use and global warming, while cheering alternative fuel research:

“…These technologies will help us become better stewards of the environment � and they will help us to confront the serious challenge of global climate change.”

Who cares why. I think I saw Cheney (who thinks global warming’s a crock, along with about 12 other guys) have a minor infarction. Oh, those lying liars.

Well, at least ol’ Virgil stands by his fear-mongering rhetoric! Interesting to note his leaning on “immigration” as the central issue in this “problem” (namely, a Muslim elected to congress wishing to use the Koran for swearing in). Only problem with that is, the guy in question is anything but an “immigrant.”

Am I completely comfortable with a Muslim elected to US office? No. But I think the issue it raises reads more like this: Shouldn’t government ceremonies be conducted without any specific religious reference? Shouldn’t they be pointedly secular, so that all citizens can feel a part of what is happening? …In other words, think you could please leave your G.D. religion at home when you go to your elected office, ya pandering dicktards!?

You think if one particular religion didn’t just happen to be in the majority in their respective constituencies, these posers would be so flauntalicious about their “worship”? I didn’t think so.

New Rule: In order to be elected � or even run � any U.S. President must serve at least one honest-to-god tour of active duty in the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marines. Okay? No more chicken-hawk, warmonger “neo-cons” or lilly-livered, draft-dodger “peacenicks” holding sway over the world’s deadliest armed force.

Will this ensure that we have someone in office who will actually think through the consequences of his actions? No, but it might help at least some of the current crop of active soldiers to be able to sustain a shred of respect for their “commander in chief.”

In closing arguments against a woman who claims God told her to make a human sacrifice (a request she took to heart, killing her three children by throwing them into the San Francisco Bay)…

Prosecutor Linda Allen asked jurors to use their heads, not hearts, to determine Lashuan Harris’ fate.

I’m with Linda (and for that matter, Dawkins) on the whole idea. Why should any “religious person” get a free pass for any of their outlandish claims? Most are, of course, reasonable people indoctrinated from birth by organizations that cherry-pick certain ideas from the Bible (or whatever), while ignoring the difficult ones � say, stoning any new wife who is discovered to be something other than virginal.

Is this unfortunate woman’s claim all that different (fundamentally) from those we hear from jihadists? Or for that matter, evangelicals? If her particular “God Delusion” is to be subject to rational scrutiny, shouldn’t all religion?

Inland Empire isn’t for the feint of heart (or the impatient), but for lovers of Lynch, it’s three+ hours of the lush sensory saturation and psychic nerve-rubbing we crave. The most blatantly “abstract” of his films to date (IMHO), this one seems to take Mulholland Drive’s indictment of Hollywood’s dark side to a ho… nuvah… levuh.

Fun moment: Mary Steenbergen (!?) showing up as a visitor for a (typically) foreboding, circular interrogation of Laura Dern’s increasingly fooked main character. O thank heaven for David, who knows how to frickin’ go art film on our asses (unlike recent dunderheaded attempts by others).

There is nothing I could possibly write here. Except, perhaps, “I dare you to not at least grin, at this image.”

Alas, one of the few remaining voices of measured, thoughtful debate from the Right, conservative talk show host Dennis Prager, has officially drifted into toolhood. When he decided to write insisting that a newly elected Congressman � a Muslim � be forced to swear in using a Christian Bible (instead of the Koran), the hair he was splitting (one I consider a legitimate point, actually) was surely one he knew would be lost on most.

Alas. Predictably, he has been labeled an Islam-hating Jew, a right-wing nutjob and worse. Sorry, Dennis. Gotta say, you asked for it.

I first came to know Prager many, many years ago, when he hosted a program called “Religion on the Line,” where representatives from various faiths (Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, etc.) discussed various moral and ethical questions. Always fair, always clear and precise in his thinking, Prager has, of late, skewed more and more Fox News. I listen (if I’m stuck in the car, mornings) because he’s an erudite, patient and articulate thinker with an eye on what matters most, ethics and morality. It makes me sad, for the same reasons.

Thank God for hubris and power-drunkenness… You can only push things so far, and President Dick (et al) certainly pushed and pushed. And pushed.

Last month the electorate pushed back, setting the stage for the grownups (Baker & Co.) to step in today and lay some smackdown. No, we will not “Stay The Course,” like you your man said, over and over. No, we are not “winning,” Iraq is a f*cking nightmare, quite possibly the worst Military misstep in US History (as predicted by Cheney himself, not so long ago). The US military, in fact, confirmed that it’d take a hell of a lot more to get the job done right, years earlier. Way to keep that a secret, BTW.

Oh, Dick. Now your Godless, undeserving-of-marriage daughter has the nerve to stuff a bun in her lesbo oven, something that surely will make for some awkward introductions around the ol’ holiday dinner table, in years to come. It can’t have been worth it.

Responsible dog walkers pick up the poop. You pick up the poop, and take it with. That’s the way things are done, unless you’re one of those sh*theads with no respect for people’s property. You know who you are, and you know it’s wrong.

Anyway, you pick it up, and if you happen to pass a trash receptacle during the remainder of your walk, good for you (not the most appetizing thing, toting a fresh bag o’ stinky). Unless, that is, the receptacle you encounter belongs to one of the dickwads Very Special Trashcan Owners in our neighborhood, one of whom printed up a very official-looking sign alerting us to the “Video Surveillance” monitoring our activities (!), and admonishing us to “take your dogsh*t home.” Without the asterisk. I assumed this nutjob was a loner until today, when I encountered a handwritten sign elsewhere with essentially the same message: Our trashcan is too good for your dog poop.

What kind of abuse could possibly lead to this reaction? Overstuffing? Bare-handed pickup/drop, without the use of a (biodegradable) plastic bag?? Unbelievable. Makes me want to steer our puggy pooper (reasonable fascimile pictured) to their neatly manicured grass, to leave a personal memo of our own.

Lately I’ve been watching and reading some fascinating discussion (increasingly visible, of late) on the existence — or non-existence — of “God.” Richard Dawkins (et al) seemed at first to be an expected phenomenon, the scientist sucked dry of non-rational (spiritual) nature.

This documentary has Dawkins exploring the question “Why are we here?” The intriguing and lovely idea this leads to is something of a circular koan: We are here, because along the way, natural selection brought us to a turning point, giving us a sophisticated brain that was able to conceive, plan and execute. To strive, and ultimately, to ask this very question.

Turning the answer into an examination of the question is, of course, a way to avoid answering it. But if one accepts that this innate, hard-wired sense of “purpose” � setting goals and achieving them � has so become a part of who and what we are, it follows that when we observe the natural world around us, we inevitably assume it, too, to be purpose-driven (”intelligently designed”). The very fact that we ask the question “why?” (and inevitably turn the question inward) says more about what we are than anything.

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m right in my (usually steadfast) belief that the only reason these times seem so incredibly f*cked up is that through the ages — for every single generation — things have always seemed incredibly f*cked up, beyond anything that came before.

Now there’s poor Britney, reduced to airing out the beav for a cheap career push. Spears, whom I understand is rumored to have actually been able to sing and dance at some point, is quickly learning the key to modern “celebrity” from her new mentor: Who needs talent, when you’ve got nerve?

Pity the poor, dumb giant Microsoft. On second thought, no, don’t bother; they’re making bank! And now, their ripoff of answer to the iPod has been launched. And the Zune, it turns out, is just as marvelous and brilliant a stroke of marketing genius as most everything else they’ve come up with. The Chicago Sun-Times sums it up neatly:

The Zune is a square wheel, a product that’s so absurd and so obviously immune to success that it evokes something akin to a sense of pity.

I wonder how it must feel to have your entire R&D department housed at a different company, in a different state, with a different name? And STILL be able to get it so wrong, so often?

Michael Richards’ “apology” on David Letterman was cringe-inducing, mostly because of the ginormous blind spot clearly still in place for this poor fool. I suspect he was being sincere when he insisted “I’m not a racist!” I mean, he seems just as surprised at his own reactions as the rest of us were. But sorry, I do believe the definitive statement on this point has already been made, loud and clear. The governor came off, and what was inside simply came out. Unfortunately, it was also recorded.

Now the folks Richards went off on want an apology and “maybe some money”. This would appear to be playing right into Richards’ hands, raising questions about the victims’ motives. O Gloria Allred; is there nothing you cannot make appear petty and gratuitous?

This Thanksgiving day, I came across these amusing pix at one of my favorite sites, documenting the wildly improper/gratuitous/flat-out-retarded use of apostrophes and quotation marks, mostly in signage. An example:

Sign: Smart boy “Jones” cleans everything but the “Baby.”
Reader response: “I” bet he “does.”

This made me laugh. Many times. It also made me realize what a silly, inside joke much of what I find entertaining is. And how warm and fuzzy — and thankful — it makes me feel to know that there are others out there, suffering the same pet peeves as I, finding humor in the same silly little things.

Yeah, moving things catch your eye, don’t they? Animation works. I do animation for a living. It is good. But there are those who use animation for evil purposes. Just recall, if you will, those headache-inducing “YOU’VE JUST WON!!!” banners one encounters… Gah. Does this ever work? I mean, maybe the idea is to annoy you SO MUCH, visually, that you might just click on the thing accidentally, in an unconscious attempt to ward off evil? I don’t know.

Pay attention. Her name is Sydney, okay? Anyway, I tend to think of advertising as a barometer of baseline cultural intelligence. The logic goes, “if advertisers are doing it, it must work.” They are, after all, paying for the privilege of presenting their idea to us; if it didn’t draw business, they’d stop or change it, right?

But this line of thinking is invariably depressing. Sure, I can sit in righteous judgment of the unwashed masses, those “stupid people” many would have us believe comprise most of America… But no. I’d rather think it’s just an indication of how stupid, tasteless, and annoying some advertisers can be. Then, I’d rather watch Sydney, here, massaging herself. Mmm. Animation.

…How you disappoint. Today was my beloved wife’s b-day (we’re both Scorpios), and besides the banana pancakes from Vivian’s, the swanky watch I got her, and a fancy lunch with a dear friend, she got a trip to the newly reopened Griffith Observatory.

The building itself is beautiful as ever. All (okay, most) of the renovation was underground, leaving the original structure unscathed. The views tonight were spectacular. To top it off, this is where I proposed, overlooking her adopted and beloved city of angels [violin music swells…].

Then we went inside [record SCREECHES to a halt].

The Cafe (”At the End of the Universe”) had only cold sandwiches for dinner. Tasty, but come on. Soup, at least? Anyway, then it was on to the exhibits. We started on the West End, which the video on the bus up recommended. The first major room was mostly a bust; several telescopes were mounted, facing a wall — covered with star wallpaper. My wife looked, then bluntly announced, “Stupid displays.” Suddenly, it was a giggle-fest… I looked through a telescope: Sure enough, wallpaper. With LOTS of seams. WTF?? The Tesla Coil was cool, as was the giant-ass pendulum. But {yawn}… It’s nice and all, but I think it’s still mostly a field-trip destination. For us adults, breathtaking architecture and views. But Stupid Displays.

This year, my b-day (the anniversary of this here writing experiment) was darkened by pet trouble. Our sweet little puggy, Bacci, had a seizure [or something…]. It took us a couple of days to realize that that’s what it was, tho. We took him in to a veterinary hospital, they checked him out, assured us he was fine. Blood, temp, everything normal. Brought him home, he was lethargic, mopey for the rest of the afternoon, but okay.

We did some research, which unearthed an apocalyptic disease unique to pugs. Bacci’s symptoms were about a 50% match, so it scared the bejesus out of us… Then it happened again, the next morning. Not a flop around on the floor seizure, but a very distressing episode nonetheless. Poor little guy. He recovered more quickly this time, and within an hour was his old self, only at about 85%. Yesterday morning, another one. We comforted him best we could, and he weathered it like a little trooper. Within 20 minutes, he was dandy again. As the day progressed, he was clearly back to normal (tugging on his walk, jumping up on visiting guests, etc.).

Today, he’s been absolutely 100% Bacci again. We are grateful, relieved, and anxious. One of the visiting friends last night told us about his dog, who had epilepsy, yet lived to a ripe old age. The thing about seizures is that no one really seems to know much about what, exactly, is going on. We have our favorite vet coming tomorrow (that’s right, he makes house calls). He owns a pug, so we’re hoping he’ll be able to settle our concerns a bit more. For now, our beloved little friend is happy and energetic as ever, and we are left with an all too vivid reminder that there are just some things in life that you can’t do a damn thing about.

UPDATE: So our Vet came, and announced that Bacci definitely does not have that deadly thingie… Maybe had severe pains in the gut, say, passing a stone? Maybe has a mild form of epilepsy? We just have to wait and see if it ever happens again. I vote for never. In any case, he’s fully back to 110% Bacci, rambunctious and lovable as ever, and appreciated in ways he can’t imagine!

Here it’s been almost exactly a year since I started this thing, and I’ve gone blank for over two months! I can think of a few reasons… Big plans, other distractions. More on that later.

For now, though, we have reason to celebrate, yes? Democracy in action, good ol’ checks and balances delivering a f*cking body-check to the Bush Empire. ‘Bout time. Here’s hoping the Demos grow a spine and listen to Arianna. Not the time to be timid, but not the time to go overboard, either. Pelosi’s a snore, but the first femme speaker. Let’s see what they make of it.

TWO MORE YEARS! TWO MORE YEARS! I’ll say it loud, and I’ll say it proud: Gore/Obama ‘08. You heard it here first. Okay, almost.

More info on Star69’s screening at the LA Shorts Fest (at the Arclight, 8pm on Saturday, September 9th):

• Tickets are now available for reservation, here

In the spirit of long-winded “openness,” I’m tracking my (attempted) transition to Ubuntu Linux, in detail. Just in case anyone’s interested. Needed its own real estate. Previous postings (at this site) can be viewed here. ‘Nuff said.

Lovely, isn’t she? Damn…

What’s that? What does she have to do with the fact that we finally saw Transamerica the other night (great fun, btw)? Click the photo, my friend. No, it’s not pornographic, but it does spell things out. Literally.

Some guys are doing an anthology of short stories riffing on the situation at some airports, namely the accumulation of goo from all those now-illegal liquids. Apparently, they’re throwing them all into the same container. And that’s just plain inspiring…

Anyway, I wrote a piece, they liked it, and it’s up at the site now. Enjoy, then write something!

My short film star69 was accepted into the Los Angeles International Short Film Festival, and given a nice screening time: 8PM on Saturday, September 9 (theater 9, program #59). It’s at the Arclight. Tickets will be $10, available at arclightcinemas.com. If you’re reading this, that means you have to come.

Something odd happened, while we were in Charlottesville. Besides seeing a firefly, in person, for the first time. They look and act amazingly like embers, flickering upward. Who knew?

No, something else entirely happened, while walking across a parking lot after a nice dinner. All of a sudden, a car tore backwards out of a parking space, glanced off the corner of a building, then slammed into another parked car. Parked on an incline, that car immediately hit another, then that one another (and that was the last domino). The first vehicle’s engine was racing, accelerating all the way.

My immediate thought was, “wow, now that’s panicking!” Others assumed drink was involved. But it was something else entirely. The perp turned out to be a pretty gal in her 20s. We approached, and I saw her through the glass, back arched, head thrown back and to one side, wrists twisted, fingers curling. The poor girl was apparently having a seizure.

There wasn’t much to do… Windows were up, door locked. After a minute or so, the girl managed to straighten up, stare straight ahead. One friend with us was an ex-cop, and he assured us that there’s really nothing to do for someone having a seizure, despite the oft-repeated advice to try to save tongue from teeth. Good way to lose a finger, it turns out. Nope, just call a doc, and stand by. Others were doing just that, so we moved along.

Lesson: Knock it off with the blow, already.

Harsh Lesson: Consider yourself lucky you got sentenced to community service, which in this case will be picking up trash in New York. In August.

Brutal Lesson: Don’t get arrested, mostly because it means you’ll be photographed when you’re not good and ready for it.

Criminey.

No vetoes, not a one, through years and years (5.5) of what I am assuming were plenty of opportunities to stop hemorrhaging the surplus he inherited into the deficit we now enjoy. Now, to save already stored and frozen bundles of cells (or, as he might have it, “children”), The Decider has finally decided to say no.

Way to take a stand. And just when I was starting to (kind of) like you, having watched/listened to the “shit” comment to Blair. As Jon Stewart pointed out, repeatedly: At least you were on topic. And the impromptu shoulder massage to the German chancellor… Priceless! Now this, a ham-fisted “play to the base” and another knock to Evil Science. Well, I don’t approve, and I’m pretty sure God isn’t too impressed, either. Then again, I’m not the one with a hotline, so who knows.

Bed-head Annie says: “…if the Democrats were running things, our cities would be ash heaps and the state of Israel would have been wiped off the map by now.” Huh. Wasn’t it during dubya’s vacation tenure that we endured 9/11?

Anyway, I just love the tough talk coming from all the “what, me serve!?” chicken hawks on the right… Caught O’Reilly, the other night, giving General Wesley Clark heck (you know, that wimp Democrat who oversaw our intervention in the Balkan conflict? Bombed Milosevic into an early retirement? That guy). Bill was typically full of bluster and tough talk, but sadly, couldn’t get Clark to argue with him.

Yeah. Unfortunately, they were pretty much on the same page, regarding the current disaster in the Middle East (Israel/Lebanon, not Iraq). Kinda surreal, actually. When it came time for O’Reilly to wrap up, with his usual “I’ll give you the last word,” he actually did! Bill never does that! Made him all fussy, I bet.

Okay, so we (my wife and I) both love Tommy Lee Jones. Sure, he’s that same guy, no matter where you put him, but if you happen to like that guy, well, Tommy’s your man. So we Netflix’d The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. Catchy title, and all. I won’t go into what I thought of it (yet)… I’d rather focus on what became the most entertaining part of the film, for me: Referring to it, in conversation.

Of course, neither of us (nor anyone, anywhere, I’d venture) could actually remember the “Melquiades Estrada” part. Instead, each time we referred to it, we’d insert a generic “Mexican” name. Of food. Example: “Wanna see Three Burials of

I’ve received lots of spam, over the years. Most, of late, preemtively taken aside and beaten about the head by increasingly astute (and brutal) email filters. The few that make it through are usually the ones that cleverly disguise themselves as actual email, avoiding key words (i.e., “erection”) and other tip-offs ($, !!!, etc.).

To this end, spammers are getting quite creative. Too creative, it would seem, such that the email is rendered utterly useless, as far as being a marketing or sales tool. Like this one, just received, having survived the gauntlet of filters to present itself to me, in all its poetic simplicity (line breaks, elipses, and [] mine):

From: Marla Fowler
Subject: WN
Date: July 11, 2006 1:01:58 PM PDT

[O] voice, which promised
unheard-of marvelous places
and times,
and Kirill… nearest hill…
a hundred steps from the rocks… (more…)

…How advertising continues to “push the boundaries” of questionable taste? They’re so edgy! Pictured here is a super-clever piece of porno I found (via boing-boing)… Pitching, I believe, toothpaste to pedophiles. Ha-ha! Heh. Hm. {Cough}

Apparently running, right now, in various Brit Cosmo-style ladies’ magazines. So hey, ladies… Watch for clever one-upping, USA-style, coming to your fave rag du jour soon! Yeah… Good times (click pic for full “ad”). Oh, Abercrombie & Fitch, how prescient and tasteful you were!