Saturday, February 28, 2009
Part one of the two part series: cute videos of cute girls on cute bikes. What more could you ask for this weekend? Stay tuned for part two!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Your mother, your sister, or your brother?
I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.
Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known.
I do not know in what latitude it lies.
I could indeed love her, if she were goddess and immortal.
I hate it as you hate God.
Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger?
I love the clouds...the clouds that pass up there
Up there, the wonderful clouds!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Michel Gondry directed the latest FOTC episode which contains this song. I was so entranced by the catchy tune and background projections that I didn't pick up that Brett was manipulating Jemaine with the doohickeys on his guitar until like the third viewing. The whole style is very much like The Science of Sleep which is another cool movie directed by Gondry. Anyways...enjoy...
Friday, February 20, 2009
Though I've still not yet read the book, it's been on my list for a while. After watching the following 2 minute video I know I'll be picking it up soon. This video's so great. Meditative, slightly eerie and ultimately peaceful.
PS Aren't woodpeckers so cool??
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
but i didn't have time for that sort of talk.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
According to David Berman, Jan 31 was the Silver Jews' final show. I can't really decipher all the reasons surrounding his decision, but it seems like his father's right-wing lobbyist ways grew to be too much for him. Pitchfork's article on DB quoted his scathing retirement post entitled "My Father, My Attack Dog" in which he called his dad "a despicable man," " a human molestor" and "a world historical motherf*cking son of a bitch." Whoa! As Mr. Henry says to Dignan in Bottlerocket, "Ooh you said a mouthful there."
What does this have to do with the Silver Jews? Well, it looks like D.B. might want to pursue a career that will more directly cancel out the work of his father (Dad has lobbied to bust unions, keep minimum wages stagnant and he's countered the work of consumer activist campaigns). D.B. said he is ready to turn the page and start anew, maybe try "screenwriting or muckraking." He is also coming out with a book of cartoons which I think is very exciting.
The sad part is that dad responded to Berman's fire by saying he loves his son and is proud of his accomplishments. Isn't it weird how we can turn out so completely different from the people we come from? I guess I take for granted the fact that me and my pops are simpatico when it comes to life philosophies.
Anyways, that's why I thought I would post a David Berman poem and wish him well on future endeavors...
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
It's too nice a day to read a novel set in England.
We're within inches of the perfect distance from the sun,
the sky is blueberries and cream,
and the wind is as warm as air from a tire.
Even the headstones in the graveyard
Seem to stand up and say "Hello! My name is..."
It's enough to be sitting here on my porch,
thinking about Kermit Roosevelt,
following the course of an ant,
or walking out into the yard with a cordless phone
to find out she is going to be there tonight
On a day like today, what looks like bad news in the distance
turns out to be something on my contact, carports and white
courtesy phones are spontaneously reappreciated
and random "okay"s ring through the backyards.
This morning I discovered the red tints in cola
when I held a glass of it up to the light
and found an expensive flashlight in the pocket of a winter coat
I was packing away for summer.
It all reminds me of that moment when you take off your sunglasses
after a long drive and realize it's earlier
and lighter out than you had accounted for.
You know what I'm talking about,
and that's the kind of fellowship that's taking place in town, out in
the public spaces. You won't overhear anyone using the words
"dramaturgy" or "state inspection today. We're too busy getting along.
It occurs to me that the laws are in the regions and the regions are
in the laws, and it feels good to say this, something that I'm almost
sure is true, outside under the sun.
Then to say it again, around friends, in the resonant voice of a
nineteenth-century senator, just for a lark.
There's a shy looking fellow on the courthouse steps, holding up a
placard that says "But, I kinda liked Reagan." His head turns slowly
as a beautiful girl walks by, holding a refrigerated bottle up against
her flushed cheek.
She smiles at me and I allow myself to imagine her walking into
town to buy lotion at a brick pharmacy.
When she gets home she'll apply it with great lingering care before
moving into her parlor to play 78 records and drink gin-and-tonics
beside her homemade altar to James Madison.
In a town of this size, it's certainly possible that I'll be invited over
In fact I'll bet you something.
Somewhere in the future I am remembering today. I'll bet you
I'm remembering how I walked into the park at five thirty,
my favorite time of day, and how I found two cold pitchers
of just poured beer, sitting there on the bench.
I am remembering how my friend Chip showed up
with a catcher's mask hanging from his belt and how I said
great to see you, sit down, have a beer, how are you,
and how he turned to me with the sunset reflecting off his contacts
and said, wonderful, how are you.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Was listening to some NPR podcasts at work whilst doing admin stuff, as I am wont to do. This one on Blagojevich cracked me up in particular. Blagojevich is apparently a bit of a cinephile and has been likening his current situation to that of the heroes of old movies. Every time I hear this guy open his mouth I realize more and more what a complete nutter he is.
He says he is the man who's enemies say they'll give him a fair trial right before they hang him in the cowboy western Silverado.
He is good ole Jefferson Smith fighting against the corrupt establishment in Mr. Smith Goes to Hollywood.
These were his beliefs, not mine.
P.S. To answer your question-Yes! I can be commisioned to do Photoshop requests!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I had this dream when I was around 12. I had never driven a car before. But, in the dream I was much older. I still wait for this to happen to me someday because I can recall everything so vividly. Sort of David Lynch-y. Twin Peaks-y. Weird...