The Way That You Looked At Me Now Made Me Wish I Was You

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!

L'Etranger

Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love best, your father,
Your mother, your sister, or your brother?
I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.
Your friends?
Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known.
Your country?
I do not know in what latitude it lies.
Beauty?
I could indeed love her, if she were goddess and immortal.
Gold?
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!

-Charles Baudelaire

Summer Babes

These are some of the most beautiful photographs I've ever seen. Photographer is Ryan McGinley. His work is really stunning. I urge you to check out his site for full effect (but maybe not at work cause it's mostly nudes!): http://www.ryanmcginley.com/

I Thought I Told You To Shut Uh Huh Huhp...

I might have watched this video 8 times today.

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...

Your House Without You

In the book "The World Without Us," author Alan Weisman imagines exactly that: "How our planet would respond without the relentless pressure of the human presence." (from worldwithoutus.com)

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??

Go, Dog. Go!

Does anyone remember this amazing book? It was my absolute, hands down, favoritist book in the whole world. I had incorrectly thought all this time it was written by Dr. Seuss. Twas P.D. Eastman, though.

Do you like my hat? No?? Well, guess what it was 5 bucks so you can suck it! OH dear. I have taken too much cold medicine today...

Turning Japanese. Oh Yes. I'm Turning.

I am sicky sick sick, but I feel better after eating my delicious tofu udon soup from Tokyo Garden in the Comcast Center! They are so nice there. My favorite friend sees me coming, grins and gives me a thumbs up, and then goes and prepares the soup for me without me saying a word. 

Happy Lucky Watering Kiss Mint

Someone very special gave me this amazing anti-Valentine's Day gift! Watering Kiss Mint!!! I have been waiting for Watering Kiss Mint all my life, yet I never knew! It is from Japan!

Happy V(enereal Disease)-Day!

Won'tcha be mine??

Cheeky Monkey

This video amuses and saddens me. Don't do crack, kids!

(OK, I have to add a sidenote after talking to James and realizing there was some confusion with this post. This is Pete Doherty at like 17. Before he was famous and on crack, etc.)

Fraunch Fries, Fraunch Dressing

I'm sorta obsessed with look books/fashion blogs, etc, lately. Here are some styles that I dig. Photos are from http://cafe-mode.hautetfort.com/. I think they are mostly Swedes & Frenchies.

(Whoa, who's that handsome devil?)

stream of consciousness on my grandparents

i would press my thumb to the button on the metal handle and carefully open the kitchen cabinet with the glass front. i'd take out this jar of marbles, spill them onto the rug, and roll the cold smooth spheres between my fingertips. and these tiny plastic pink and green mermaids whose arms would perch on the back of a glass. and red, gold and green swizzle sticks. and a gag beer goblet that didn't spill when you turned it over, instead the tan liquid bubbled to the top and then went back down—the foam was fake, i wonder what it was made of? but that's not all, there was magic shell chocolate sauce for ice cream. i’d crack it with my spoon when it hardened. and there were these colored pencils that were stored in a hidden drawer. one was a red pencil that you never sharpened you just peeled away the outside layer. and there was this sammy davis, jr. record and pop-pop would play "the candyman song" over and over for my brother and i through these comically oversized headphones that we'd take turns sharing as we danced in place. these super soft leather headphones. and ga-ga would cry "oh happy day!" and then pop-pop would blow us smoke rings on command, "one more pop-pop, one more" as we pointed a finger to his mouth. and we called my grandparents "ga-ga and pop-pop" until i felt like we were too old and declared from now on we would call them "grandmom and grandpop" which my mom said made them sad.

but i didn't have time for that sort of talk.

David Berman-Part Deux

So the Silver Jews are no longer.

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...

Affirm your life why don't you

The Charm Of 5:30

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
one night.

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.

-David Berman

Holy Detox, Batman!

This is my new obsession. I'm sorry it's totally blurry, but it's a camera phone. Holy Detox Tea made from Holy Basil or Tulsi. I can feel it purifying my blood and insides as we speak!!!

Mmmmmm. Detoxically Delicious!

Come Saturday. Er, Sunday I mean.

Saw Bardo Pond last night. Free show! So good! SO loud. Head hurts today. Not used to drinking.

Seeing these guys tonight (The Pains of Being Pure of Heart) unless the ticket gods don't want me to. Same time, same place--please work it out, ticket gods!

Aw yeah...

Somebody totally got the snuggie memo!

Mush You Huskies, Mush!

I hope my friend Dave doesn't mind me posting an excerpt from this great email he sent me from Alaska. I had to share...

"so, a story about what you do at 20 below - if you're  me, you put on about 7 layers of wool, polypropolene, and polar fleece, and head  outside to "put in a dog lot".

Race season is upon us - when after 3 months of winter, these f'ing cabin-fever crazed citizens will race just about anything over the snow - snowmobiles, dogs, skis, bikes, outhouses (yeah, that's not a joke).  We've been a host/checkpoint for a few different races the past few years, but two have been consistent : the Susitna 100 and the Jr. Iditarod. 

The Jr. Iditarod is fairly self explanatory, it's a dog-mushing race for teens (14-17) who run their own teams, completly self-sufficent over a 100 mile course (we're the halfway point).  It's a pretty cool thing. 

The Susitna 100 happens a few weeks earlier,(Feb 14th this year), and it's much nuttier.  It is a "human powered" race - meaning you can ski, bike, or snowshoe the race -  which is 100 miles, all wilderness trails.  100 f'ing miles - completly on your own, through some absolutly frozen, desolate landscape.  These people are total nut-jobs.  We're the halfway point for this as well, and there is some serious comedy as shell-shocked bodies start rolling in.

But back to the dog lot - it's needed for the Jr. Iditarod, so that racers can rest their teams, and any injured dogs can be checked out by a vet, dropped off, flown back into town, etc.   We also have a lot of adult mushers who come out for weekends to do practice runs for their teams, stay overnight, etc. I knew practically nothing about dog-mushing before I came up here -  not that I know all that much now - but I am amazed at how much care these people take with their animals. 

So, "putting in a dog lot" consists of first finding where you stashed the dozen posts you used last year (these are wood, about 8 feet long, 6-8" in diameter).  After you realize they are against the back of the tool-shop with about 6 feet of snow up against them, you take half an hour to shovel them out and move them out onto the frozen lake, into a couple hundred foot oval area that you've previously spent an hour packing down with a snowmobile.  You then take a chainsaw and cut two foot deep holes in the ice to drop the posts into, each about 20 feet apart.  pack the holes back in, connect some strong chain between them for people to hook their teams up to, let it freeze ovenight and bingo, there's a dog lot.  all while it's about -22 degres out.  my life is ludicrous. 

but, it's worth it, as happy doggies are the result  - the attached photo is an "action shot" from 2008's dog lot."

Oh Lord, Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

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.

And he is the misunderstood marathon runner (who uh, by the way was in reform school?) in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.

These were his beliefs, not mine.

P.S. To answer your question-Yes! I can be commisioned to do Photoshop requests!

I requested no creamed corn

The car gurgled and spat and slowed to a stop. It was just before nightfall. I was in a cluttered neighborhood with narrow, dimly lit streets. I turned off the engine, got out of the car and walked to the door of the first small cottage I came to. The air was heavy except for the occasional tree-ruffling breeze. I knocked and waited. The front light came on. An older couple came to the door, nodded and let me in. They brought me to a tiny kitchen and sat down together with me at a small, round table under a stained glass overhead lamp. The old woman wordlessly prepared cups of tea for each of us. I had no apprehension and waited for them to speak...

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...