Say what you will about Ted Kennedy. He was the last of a dynasty, he was the "lion of the senate", chappaquiddick, etc...

the fact is, he got more legislation passed than any of his brothers ever did.

I, like much of my generation, was raised to worship John and Bobby, but at the end of the day, they died before they ever got the change to make the difference they wanted. As a professor I had once stated, JFK never came close to LBJ when if comes to civil rights legislation. that's a fact. Even Bobby (my favorite of the bunch), never got the chance.

While Teddy didn't have the clime to have the same impact that his brothers dreamt of, he still accomplished more than they ever would. The guy reached colossal levels of influence (and I can complain as much as anyone the reasons that put him there), and he made the most of it. when he got sick a couple of years ago, everyone expected him to lie low and expect him to go gentle. But no, he decided instead to work through things. This isn't as common in the US Senate as you would think it is. So stop and give him a moment of your time. Believe me, regardless of your beliefs, he deserves it. I'm sure the next few days, he'll receive a lot of glad-handing, and her deserves it, but remember that he was more important to the Democratic party than anyone since Tip O'Neill. Which says far more than I can put into words than ever after just getting home from the bar. But if you care about bipartisanship, if you care about Irish-Americans, if you care about the little guy, shut up and respect for a minute.

He was always that great combination of the influence and te smarts/influence that we've sought in a leader, with the real background desired of a policy maker. He was never perfect, but always there for us over 37 years, and I like to think he was the one who made more of a difference than anyone else.

We like to think that the President is who gets things done. While he (so far) is who guides policy, it is the stalwarts in the Senate who really have a say. In that regard, there are few in US history who've had the impact of TK. He was there through the bulk of if, and though he wasn't there for everything I wish he was, he was still there. He is of that generation that made for the greater good. and I promise you that both sides will miss him.

that's all.

As a big fan of public-domain, early 20th century science fiction, it pleases me to know that they're making a Princess of Mars movie. I think it should to be pretty interesting, and perhaps followed up by 9 or 10 repetitive, but nonetheless entertaining sequels. I'm also excited by Dominic West playing Sab Thar (what's up with his role choices lately? Did he attend villain school after the Wire?), though I'm thinking they're going to have to CGI the shit out of this production. What I'm terrified of is that they're going to try to update this in some ultra-sleek, action packed movie, which is just sorta wrong and weird. Which isn't to say I don't shudder at the thought of a steampunk-inspired movie, either. But I guess it don't count as steampunk if it's set on Mars, does it? I guess the best course of action would be to just read the damn books. They're each like 60 pages long.
One of the things I always enjoyed about the books is just how surreal the whole planet is described, especially its' inhabitants, which range from dog-like creatures to a variety of civilizations spanning the planet. I always liked that notion that Martians, despite having advanced technology, still can't get their shit together enough to stop fighting with each other. Good on Edgar Rice Burroughs for including racism in outer space.

alright, back to work for me.

Eric Bruntlett!

This isn't a normal way for a cat to sit, right?

Though, I detest Philadelphia Magazine (and pretty much all of its ad-heavy overblown counterparts in other cities), there's a pretty interesting article in the new issue about what's happened to the Philly mob.

It's been a long time since they blew up the Chicken Man...

Whatever happened to the South Philly Mob?

(via Secret Dead)

National Geographic's picture of the day

See those mountains in the banner up top? Here's how they look today. Go smog.

I've been working constantly on web development and cataloging for the last... ugh, I don't even know. But I got real ambitious at 3 AM this morning and began a post about Mat Fraction's recent open letter to Philip K. Dick (as featured in the most recent issue of the comic adaptation of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep), Pink Floyd (particularly 1977's Animals, and the box art for the old Atari game Defender. As you can imagine, it was the sort of thing that will take me at least a few hours to write, and at the moment, I don't have that sort of time. I did get most of the ideas down, though, and I look forward to wrapping it up. In the meantime, though, I need to do some more work on Cutter numbers (seriously, I hate these things) and pretend I don't want to ram a darning needle into my ear.

I know this is kind of an empty post. Consider it a placeholder of sorts. But in the meantime, go here and check out some of the other Atari art. It's astounding to think about how much more entertaining this art is than the actual games were. Considering how many dumb movies have spawned from video games, I think we could get a good decade out of this stuff. Missile Command? Totally. Dodge 'Em? Oh, hell yes. Super Breakout? Holy shit, make it now. How did that art even come around? what about that game made you think "astronaut tennis"? It doesn't matter, I want Michael Bay's dumb ass working on it, stat.

Anyway, I'm gonna have a little break in a few weeks, at which point I'm going to flood this thing with poignant and well-considered posts. Or at least ones that don't trail off into nowhere.

and thus I find myself in the completely unexpected role of defending Michael Vick. As someone who is almost absurdly fond of animals and will readily admit that he's the least dedicated male football fan he knows, I can say it's a strange position.

Still, I can't pretend to be outraged by the Eagles' choice to sign Mike Vick. He's a talented guy and they got him for cheap. and I while I'm horrified by what happened at his house or farm or whatever, I also believe in second chances and rehabilitation. Vick did what he did (and while I read those initial reports, I'm not going to pretend to know just how involved he was in the whole thing), and he got caught and then punished for it. He got punished more than anyone has ever been punished for a crime like that. His fame and money put him in front of a bus, and he paid the fines and served his time. He lost a fortune and two of the most profitable years of his life, and I haven't heard him complain once.

Look. I'm sure that Vick regrets his little dogfighting adventure more than anyone. And I'm even more sure that considering the scrutiny, he's not going to think about so much as sneezing towards an animal for the foreseeable future.

So I'm fine with signing Vick. Shit, we have a better chance now than we did yesterday, right? Vick didn't circumvent the law. He didn't manipulate jurors. He did his time and how he's ready to play ball again. Good for him. and good for us.

I can't blame the Eagles for signing him. On the contrary, they'd be foolish to pass up on the offer. They're not condoning what he did. They're not harboring some unrepentant killer. They're giving the guy a second chance. and while I'm proud of the progressive mindset, I think it has far more to do with the Eagles organization's desire to win, and I'm just as proud of that. I want my team to have that desire. I want them to be willing to do almost anything to win, aside from cheating or doping or whatever. If you take a few knocks from PETA, so be it. There were worse people in the NFL than Vick 3 years ago, and there are worse people than him there today. I think he knows what he has ahead of him, and I hope we can help him do it. and maybe we'll impress everyone in the process.

update: there's a good article by John Gonzalez here that does a good job of summing up what you just read here. I'm pretty sure he wrote his first.

I am not ready for this

Rick Santorum seen skulking around Iowa.

hurk

this is one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen.

enjoy!

okay, I'm not going to brag/complain about my lo-tech razors anymore:

In the 4th century BC, Alexander the Great encouraged his men to shave so enemies couldn’t grab their beards during melees. Alexander’s subjects were often shaved using a novacila, a block of iron with one edge sharpened, which sounds like a great way to shred your face.

Julius Caesar supposedly preferred to have his beard plucked out with tweezers, although other Roman men used razors or rubbed the beards from their faces using pumice stones. (Ouch!)

I can't begin to imagine the razor (pumice?) burn these guys must've gone through...

So, I've been taking this quiz (cataloging, which a lot harder than I ever would've expected to be) on and off all day, and while I'm doing this I'm going through these big stacks of blank or unidentifiable CDs that I have. They go back at least 10 years, which means that they go back almost as long as I've had access to a CD burner. 1998? It was something like that. Anyway, It was such a revelation at the time, and years of crafting and shaping these mix tapes, I was blessed with the ability to make a mix in 5 minutes to last me exactly one walk to work. Thinking about it now, it's the first time I really could just dump a bunch of songs somewhere for later listening. I mean, I could do it with tapes, but it never really made sense, because two weeks later, I'm driving around listening to the damned thing and hating every other song, but still forced to listen to it because I didn't have a CD player in the accord.

But suddenly, I could go to the computer lab at Pitt, download 20 songs right there, browse Addicted to Noise* while I slap 'em on a CD, and then I'm walking out the door listening to them ten minutes later. The problem is that the files would never be labeled well, and I'd have no idea what I was listening to most of the time. This was also at a time, mind you, when the internet was a lot less slick than it is now. Even looking at the ATN sheets linked above I sorta cringed without even realizing. Like watching old basketball or football footage and when they flash the score at the bottom of the screen, you think "how did those neanderthals ever get by without graphics of little animated players or robots to deliver the score?". And then you realize that you were 15 when that game took place and you realized that yes, things do move by that fast sometimes. But I digress. Where was I?

Oh, the CDs. Yeah, they're mostly these last-minute collections of unlabeled songs, sometimes half a CD by one artist, and the rest of the disc crammed with whatever else I could find at the time. There was so much flotsam on the internet then for me. I wasn't thinking about discovering new bands through the internet just yet (and to be fair I'm not sure I was alone there), but I would exhaust every band I'd ever loved up until then looking for rarities and b-sides and the like. One year I think I made 50 CDs that had A) Beck covering a Rolling Stones song, B) something from the Matador website, or C) Ween's "Booze Me Up of Get Me High". What a weird time.

Anyway, I'd make them at work. I'd make them in the library. I'd make them for a drive just up to Wawa. and I rarely throw them out, because I forget if there's anything I want on them. I can also pretty much narrow them down to what year I made them, because for some reason there's been a pattern to what brand/type of CD I've used changing every year since 2000.

and it's nice. it's filling in these little blanks and forcing me to look up songs by googling the lyrics (yes, while I'm taking this quiz. Smart, right?), songs I would've never thought to revisit on my own. As I write this, I'm listening to what I'm pretty sure is a New Order cover (and an awful one at that) from somewhere around 2001. Then it'll go into Bob James and then something that I think is the Karl Hendricks Trio (who are still together!?) , but I can't be certain. It's like these little, clumsily-arranged time capsules left for myself.

What I should do, is arrange a CD of my favorite songs of the year, not label any of them, and then listen to it 10 years later and see how many I know right away. Hell, I guess I already am.

so that's what I'm up to. I've been writing so much about the internet lately for two of my classes that I'm sorta shocked my mind went here on it's own. Two themes for my online class discussions this week: The first was more or less the internet will destroy us all, once it's plugged into OUR BRAINS (trust me, I've seen a lot of movies). The second, and I'm quoting, was "The Library of Congress: Kinda racist, right?" Both were a little ridiculous, but both of them have spawned some interesting conversation, and that was the point, right?

anyway, I'm going to turn this devil box off and go watch some old-fashioned television. Now playing that Grand Funk Railroad song that Chief Xcel sampled for that song on Soleside's Greatest Bumps.

Have a wonderful week, everyone.

*holy shit, look at that list of artists! Ani DiFranco + Turntablism!!

Little known fact: Option Magazine had Thurston Moore on the cover of every single issue they printed in that 5 or 6 years.

This picture has been sitting in my bookmarks for months, and I think at some point I was going to make a mix called "Battletruck". I never got around to it (though I will be posting a new mix sooner than later), but I can't let this graphic go to waste. Thus, BATTLETRUCK.

Squeaky Fromme...free?

You know shit's just gonna go south now...

Flames consume a replica of the 17th-century flagship Prins Willem in Den Helder, northern Netherlands, early Thursday, July 30, 2009.

via riotclitshave
(also this one, which I love:)

Go check out some Russian space program snapshots at English Russia, because... wait, do you need a reason for that? If so, you really shouldn't be here...

For the first time in, I dunno, 18 years or so, my hair is turning blond again. So's my "beard", for that matter. I put beard in quotations because basically what I have is completely accidental and more a result of it being too hot to shave and my only having what could generously be described as the worst razors ever made. I don't mind using a 2-bladed razor. In fact, that's all I've ever used. But having those blades spring-mounted makes a huge, huge difference.

just ask my neck.

so what's next in my changing appearance? Perhaps glasses? I can't be that far off by now. An eyepatch? That might not be out of the question, either. I'd suggest a neck brace, but that seems awfully restricting.

There's one thing I can promise you: It won't be a mustache or any other ironic facial hair.

I considered posting a picture of this, but I've long decided that I'm too old to be taking cell phone pictures of myself in a bathroom mirror.

Steven Spielberg is remaking Harvey.

That is all.

The San Diego Zoo. I only took one picture, but I like it well enough.

The best part of this trip was when looking at the koalas (who, not surprisingly, were all asleep) and one started shaking for a second. I thought he was going into a convulsion or something, but it turns out he was just pooping from his tree branch.

He then scratched himself and went back to sleep.

This Sestak vs. Specter battle continues, with Arlen commanding a pretty solid lead.

I'm still not exactly sure why.

I didn't think I'd ever see this again...

Lonesome George: bangin' around

A couple years ago I talked here about Lonesome George, the last of the Galápagos Pinta tortoises. Well, it turns out he might be a daddy! Let's hope that these eggs give birth to adorable little turtles and that ol' George is progressive enough not to hold the fact that they're half Espanola. He's an old guy, after all. It's be nice to see him with the times.

It's been a long time coming...

...but the day has finally arrived.

HAPPY RICKEY HENDERSON DAY!!

That's right, perennial HDF favorite Henderson is getting inducted into the MLB Hall of Fame today, so take a moment and thank your local batshit professional athlete for all the good times. It's their day!

My stomach actually hurts from laughing at the Best Show this week. I still have 45 minutes left to listen to it, but listening to Tom and Paul F. Tompkins talk about the Gathering of the Juggaloes had my unable to breathe for a while. Unfortunately, it's slowing my work down, but it's a small price to pay...

Dear Hansen Beverage Company,

I would like to say that this is a fictional letter congratulating you on the quality of your product, or the business practices you've taken on out of concern for your customers. That's all well and good, and I say keep up the good work there. No, I've got a larger concern. Namely, your products -all of them, from your ginger ale to the radioactive sludge known as Monster energy drink, are fucking gross.
I've tried so hard to find a product of yours I like. You see, I used to drink soda all the time. You know those kids that aren't allowed to have sugar? I was like the opposite of that. I drank at least 3-4 of them a day, and loved it. Then, sometime in college, I really just started hating the taste of it. I tried all sorts of replacements, but in the end I had to go with sparkling water because there was nothing else.
When I found your products, I was ecstatic because I thought I might be able to enjoy some ort of soda again. Alas, it was not to be. For you see, unlike your regular customers, I don't like the taste of carbonated tree bark and squirrel farts. Strange, I know, but what can you do? I've tried no less than 5 different types of your soda, and all of them have this unpleasantness. The other night, I saw that you're making a Cranberry/Grapefruit soda. I thought to myself "alright, this is for me. There's no way I can not like this". Four minutes later, I was spitting it out into the sink and wondering how the hell you could've dropped the ball on that. It might've been the Splenda. Listen, I'm okay with sugar. If I was eating grapefruits and cranberries, there'd be sugar in them. All part of the... fruit game. So there's no reason to dump that lousy fake-ass sugar in there.
So Hansen's you just made the list. That's right, the brands-that-are-dead-to-me list. It's a short one, inhabited mostly by companies with nutjob lunatic fringe owners or ones that are Colorado-based beer companies. and you.
So sod off, Hansen. I've given you too many shots and I got boned by every one of them. NO MORE.

HOLY SHIT!!!

Family Guy is nominated for an Emmy (Family Guy!??!??)

Also:
Weeds is a comedy? United States of Tara? How do you nominate one guy over the other from Flight of the Conchords?

Feh.

However, after the Prego commercial aired on television in 1985, Wendy's mananagement decided to terminate her contract, contending that the Prego commercial "infers that Clara found the beef at somewhere other than Wendy's restaurants".

Just reading Clara Peller's wikipedia page (don't ask) and thought this line was too good to ignore.

Not much going on today; I'm in the middle of a quiz, but if you're sitting around and want something to listen to, go here and check out the second part of J-Rocc's (of the World Famous Beat Junkies) series of James Brown cuts. It's making my late afternoon and maybe it'll help brighten your day a little.

Stop and think for second how awesome Maceo Parker is. Because the dude can play.

So yesterday, while on my way to lunch, I couldn't help but notice a booth set up across the street which had a prominent poster showing Obama with a Hitler mustache. It was the sort of thing I caught out of the corner of my eye but then kept walking because I was already late. Of course, as soon as lunch was over, I had to approach them. Turns out it was a LaRouche PAC table. There was a small crowd there and I just sorta stood in the back, looking bored. This is the best way to get these people to approach you, if you're wondering. Just stand there and look impressionable.

A girl behind the booth sidestepped the crowd and approached me:
girl: how are you today?
me: I'm fine, thanks. I can't help but notice you got the uh, the little mustache on Obama, there
girl: yes
me: and why is that?
girl: are you familiar with Hitler's healthcare policy?
me: nope

Then the girl starts telling me about said health care, which seemed to revolve principally around the euthanasing of old people. After about twenty seconds, I cut her off.

me: I'm sorry, but how are you tying this together? I mean, is Obama euthanizing people?
girl: Well, the health plan that-
me: I strongly oppose Obama's healthcare plan.
girl: Will you sign our petition?
me: absolutely not. Not while that's here[I point to the poster. Next to it, there's another one of Obama photoshopped into a brownshirt uniform. Classy-like].
girl: Well, they have the same health plan that-
me: So did Ross Perot. Why don't you give Obama bigger ears or... something.
girl: Well, because nobody would recognize that. But the important part is that these men have the same plan.
me: Is that what you think of when Hitler comes up? His health care plan?
At this point bystanders are agreeing with me, and I'm getting a little cocky
me: Do you know why I stopped paying attention to the extreme right?
girl: Oh, we're not on the right.
me: I know you're not. I don't care. Do you know why I stopped listening to them?
girl: why is that?
me: because they started making comparisons to Hitler when it was completely inappropriate. You're doing the same thing here, and I think it's cheap and I think it's lazy.
girl: But don't you think that the people should know what's going on?
me: I do, but I don't think that adding Hitler into this conversation is going to help anyone. I mean, what if I started a campaign against vegetarianism using Hitler as an example?

At this point, everyone behind the booth looked genuinely insulted and told me that that would be crazy. Things devolved quite a bit after that and I ended up arguing some more, taking a pamphlet, returning said pamphlet before reading it, and then leaving.

Things were polite, I never yelled or cursed. Actually, I think that girl yelled more than I did. When I left, I even wished them luck in a backhanded way. It was nice to have the discussion, but I still had to go home and feel sick to my stomach afterwards. I hate that Hitler shit. you could be arguing for not bludgeoning puppies to death, and as soon as that picture gets brought out in an irresponsible way, I'm fucking done listening. It's a lot harder to tell who the real monsters are when you've become as desensitized as we are to the ones we've had. That comparison is juvenile and irresponsible, and I'm happy I got the chance to tell them so. Still, it was a pity. I'd had such a nice lunch...

Just got in an old-fashioned street argument. More to come later tonight when I've finished my homework.

There is an amazing (if not somewhat depressing) article in the new issue of Harper's by Kevin Baker in which he does a great job of pointing out that as much as we want to compare Obama to FDR, as much as we want to say he's the solution to this nightmare our country has plunged into, every decision he's made thus far really matches the other president that tackled the Great Depression: Hoover.
Now, the important thing to note here is that when Hoover wasn't elected, he wasn't known for the homeless veterans that built their shacks on his lawn, but he was a dynamic and energizing leader who looked like he could turn everything around. He attacked the crises he was dealt with aplomb and gritty determination. But in the end, he ended up capitulating most of the ideals that he had believed in. FDR, on the other hand, didn't care what anyone thought and pushed his legislation through. FDR had lofty ideals when he entered office, but in the end just said fuck it, if I gotta make enemies in order to get this done, so be it"*"

Anyway, read the whole article here. and try to read it without being defensive of Obama. We have to look at him the same way we look at every other president: objectively. Bush did some things right, did he not? Why would we assume that Obama might not be doing some things wrong? I enjoy hearing the guy speak more than anyone. I think he's a standup guy and I want him to succeed in a way that we cannot comprehend as a voting public. But as with every president, there are lessons from history just being ignored while we go through this.

*not verbatim

Your morning terror: "Vampire Squid from Hell"

I've mentioned my utter fear of marine biology here before, and at 2 AM this morning, after trying to dose myself with some Tylenol PM, I still sat there in shock watching the Blue Planet episode "The Deep". Some people can't watch horror movies before going to bed, I simply cannot watch stuff like this. It's really an unsettling feeling, to be frozen in terror in a dark room watching deep sea biology at work while drowsy and sleep-deprived.

Of course, most of this is beautiful. A major theme of this episode is bioluminescence, and it's amazing to see what goes on that deep. That said, you start seeing footage of the Gulper Eel, the Viperfish, and of course, the Vampire Squid from Hell:



I don't know what asshole named this thing, but I came away from that video admiring it more than fearing it. Sure, if I saw a dead one washed up on a beach, I'd still hit it with a stick and run away peeing, but it's still a pretty impressive cephalopod, no?

But yeah, if you get the chance, watch this video (you can watch it on Netflix RIGHT NOW) because it's insanely entertaining. and because David Attenborough's voice might just help you sleep more than it helps me...

So, after spending the bulk of my day reading texts on cataloging (i promise you right here and now that is the least boring description I can possible give of this text), it is now early in the morning on the 4th of July. I'm sitting on my porch, enjoying a drink, and trying to think about what I can type about how I feel about this country of ours (if there is by any chance that there's a reader of this in another country, I'll crap my pants. leave a message and you'll make my year). And so I've been thinking about this harder than usual. Part of me wants to link to a shitload of sites (and to be fair, I sort of will), but this should be more than that. I'm trying to keep this thing going while I am REQUIRED by my studies to create 2 blogs* in addition to this one, so I am extra guilt-ridden about the state of HDF at the moment. In a lazy moment, I would just link (again) to the Born in the U.S.A. video, which after the 3 minute mark remains one of my favorite documents of 1980s America of all time. But unfortunately for you, the reader, I'm not feeling lazy just yet.
This story begins in of all places, a church: The church I was christened in, I taught in (!), and that I was confirmed and married in. I only mention this portion of this story because it still impresses me, because it is neither a religious diatribe nor a commentary on ethics. This is just a simple story on something that had great impact on my life, which I like to think most of these posts are about. Alright, we all know that's not true.
Anyway, this is about an event this church holds every year called the Fall Fair. It's usually a smorgasbord of cheap, decent furniture, but this goes back further than that. Because there is always a book sale there. and anyone with the patience to sort through hundreds of books will know the sort, as I did when I had such patience. I found all sorts of things there that would impact my reading life over the years: Bradbury, Lewis...even the Fletch series. But this is about something much bigger than bruised paperbacks.
It was when I was 16 or 17, and I found a book called American Pictures. It is the essentially the photodiary of a Danish man bound for the priesthood who instead for a few reasons ended up hitchhiking across the United States from 1970 to 1975. His view wasn't even something that unique (I would later discover Larry Clark's Tulsa, among others), but to me -a high school student- it was like having someone beat me and leaving me for dead in the shadow of my national pride (or lack thereof) at the time.
It's a concept that is almost impossible to grasp now, at least for the people savy enough to abuse the internet at work for something like this nowadays, but I digress. This guy was given access to every part of the country, from the sharecropper shacks to the millionaires at the time. If somebody can tell me how a homeless Dane can grant me access to Jay Rockafeller these days, I'm all ears, but I think I think it's part of a bygone era. Anyway, this book remains to me a look at America that only could provide that a de Tocqueville could provide. Especially when considering this country at the time. I mean the best and the worst presented to you in a neat little package that you'd rather not see. There is young love, there is high society. There is heroin addicts shooting up and there are fresh murder victims a la Weegee. And whot's more impressive is that these shots never seem posed or staged. These are people living on whatever side of the law that actually trusted this foreigner to tell their story. Can you imagine taking a picture of Jay Rockafeller and some pimps nowadays? You might, but I can't.
But I'm getting off track. It's just that... think of the sixties. Think of the civil rights movement (should that be capitalized?) and the atmosphere of the early seventies. Think about the fact that while we were patting ourselves on the back for our progress for the efforts of a distinct minority, while we know what the cities were up to, nobody was paying attention to to everywhere else but this Dane who was selling blood plasma for film.
These are shots that illustrate how for we are from utopia (again, capitalized?), how much more progress there is to make. It means a lot to me when I view these pictures that I can still view them with a sense of pride. We are America. We for better or worse, are the beacons of freedom and democacy. But when you're looking at a murder victim in New York or gang activity in Richmond, Virginia, it's not like you can cling to bragging rights. and these pictures aren't diplomatically contained to the mid-Atlantic. There are things that we've probably all seen to some degree, however scary that might sound.
and the weirdest part is that I don't look at these pictures with shame. I really don't. and nor should you. This is America at its baldest truth. Obviously, things are different now, but can you really tell me that you would want to see the update? I won't lie, I did, and I saw a dead man on the streets of New York in 1994, after the city was cleaned up and presentable. But I saw this naked love in the city, and I saw hope in the places I would never have expected to see it.
I was stupid at that young age, as we all are, and I sliced up that book to make interesting collages for my dorm room door in college or whatever, and it's haunted me.
Years later, my wife looked at this book and found herself as enamored with it as I once was. and I had to explain where some of those pictures went. It was not pleasant. But as a shitty make-up (I am filled with these), I tracked down Jacob Holdt's books and hoped for the best. It turns out that he's still there, and presenting the America that I want to ignore but can't. The America that's under our noses but that even our new president won't see. and I wouln't, either. Sure, he's got several girlfriends in the states (and a wife and children at home), but you still have to wonder what this bearded foreigner sees that we don't. So in honor of this holiday, I'm not going to give you Chinese-made fireworks (although they are awesome) to celebrate this country of ours, but instead a real depiction of what we all want to defend. We are the greatest nation on this planet. But We've a ways to go.

See Jacob Holdt's website here.

As a side note, I meant to start this post about the Haden triplets, but this is better, trust me. I'll update this soon, I promise.

in the meantime, I beg that you explore Mr. Holdt's pictures and take the pride and shame for our fantastic country that I hold.

I recently found out that he's been trying to bring to light the humanity of white power groups, which surprised me as much as you, but sorta delivered.

*It's been like 3 years and I still cringe when using this term

The tests I gave him shows no sense at all

I think it was my tenth birthday, I think, when I got my first cassettes. It wasn't that I had no access to music before that, but before that I learned everything I could about music by pilfering through the collections of my parents and siblings late at night and then stay up listening to them on the little clock radio I kept next to my bed*. I'd listen to whatever I could find: the very personal romantic mixes of my siblings, the battered Springsteen tapes that had wound their way through everyone in my family, the CSNY tape that had a wad of gum stuck and hardened over the track listing on the side... everything.
It was still a little while before I'd start buying my own music (U2's The Unforgettable Fire, later that summer), but a family friend always got a kick out of the fact that this little blond kid would be singing along with a bunch of teenagers when they'd sneak out to drink at night. This family friend put together one of the most thoughtful gifts I ever received. I unwrapped it and found three cassettes, the first I could ever claim were my own with impunity. They were all of historical significance, he told me. There was Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, which had spend some 15 consecutive weeks in the Billboard 200***. There was The Who's Tommy, which was the world's first rock opera. and there was The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band. I have no idea what distinction the last one held in this context, but think it had something to do with the production. or something.
Anyway, I loved all of these gifts, and I think I wore two of them out (my history of Beatles ointerest will have to come at another time, but I know I still had that tape when I went off to college). But far and away, Tommy just blew me away. It was this wild epic story that went all over the place, and had these interesting characters, and musically it had everything from overtures to ballads to stones-our rock songs. I know that I had the story very basically told to me around then, though I obviously didn't know all of it. I think I knew tht "The Acid Queen" was about drugs, but I think I was under the impression that "Fiddle About" was about child abuse more then pedophilia. I seriously hope so, anyway. Obviously, I wasn't paying that close attention to the lyrics of these parts.
Anyway, it was an album that just consumed everything I did for like a year. I loved that album and would find new things about it every time I listened to it. While most people I knew had aligned themselves with either the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, I decided that the Who would be my favorite band of all time. It's weird, because while I love all of these groups now, I really hated the Beatles and was impassive at best about the Stones. I think that it's because those two bands I only knew their earliest songs as a kid, where with the Who I knew Tommy and Face Dances, for some reason and worked my way backwards. If doesn't make sense to me, but there you have it.
Anyway, like I said, I loved Tommy. But about after a year or so, it came to me rather suddenly that the whole thing was pretty over the top****. The story was ridiculous (pinball?) and there were a lot of weird, sudden turns in the middle of the story. I soon realized that this wasn't the best Who album. Hell, this wasn't even the best rock opera that the Who did. I should also mention that in this period there were like 5 live Who albums released and most of them playing Tommy in full. It's no secret that the band played this for like 5 years straight and grew to hate it, and I soon understood why.
So one day I put it on a sheld or something and stopped thinking about it. I explored other albums and other bands and other whole genres. and aside from occasionally hearing "Pinball Wizard", I really didn't get that much of it. Until recently, when I was thinking of it and downloaded it on a whim in the middle of my midterms a few weeks ago. And to be honest, it fucking made my week. I gave it a fresh listen or ten, and I really got into all of these things I forgot about ages ago. The little feedback things at the beginning of "Amazing Journey" just run up my spine. Pete Townsend's unbridled sincerity in his vocals of "1921"****. There's the "See me, feel me" callback running throughout the album, just shy of annoying the hell out of you. There's "We're Not gonna Take It", which I've been playing twice a day as loud as I possible can for the past few weeks and going crazy for (that little whisper!).
Tommy is also Keith Moon at the top of his game. It's funny, because everyone else is somewhat subdued on this record. Daltrey is almost sing-talking through most of the record, and never lets his voice off its leash the way he sometimes did. Townsend's guitar is almost subtle, with the exceptions of a few power chords here and there (and surely some windmilling), it's like he's painfully aware that this is going to be a legacy and he can't have fun with it. Entwistle's bass is nonexistent. I think you can here his horn work more than his bass. Entwistly, who was arguably the greatest bassist of his era, is almost absent from this album (he did, however write both "Cousin Kevin" and "Fiddle About", which is appropriately and astoundingly fucked up). Moon, though. His drums are reigned in just enough to let one know what the hell he's doing. If I had a complaint about Keith Moon it's that he seemed to have thousands of distinct rhythms going on in his head at once, and while they lined up, the way he would alternate between them on the drums was confusing to the listener. Here, though, his work is practically cogent. Instead of air-drumming with abandon, I can listen to this and kinda figure out what he's going. It's really kind of a beautiful submission.
So how is it that the band's most well-known and possibly well-regarded album is a duff-job performance-wise for almost the entire band? I don't know. I also don't know how it works, but then here I am writing about it.

I fompletely forgot what I was trying to write about when I started this. I actually wanted to write about the Haden triplets today, but that'll come later. In any case, I guess what I'm trying to do is make a plea for you to go find a record that you were in love with. Maybe, like me, it can be the first record you were in love with. If your'e like me, you probably ran it into the ground and haven't picked it up in ages. It doesn't have to be anything profound or something that even aged well. It can be something that embarrasses the shit out of you. But go get it. download it. Just find it, dust it off, and listen to it. Remind yourself what you loved about it. There are times when I am so sick of rock music that I just don't care about it anymore. This happens more often than ever nowadays. This might be my growing intolerance, but it also might be that sometimes my bearings are off and I fail to remember what it was that made me love this crap to begin with. so go dust off an album that you loved once and give it another shot. Even if you hate it now, I'm sure there's something in it that'll bring a smile to your face.


*While I haven't seen it in a decade, I'm still pretty sure there exists a picture of me asleep and using this clock radio as a pillow, my ear crunched into the speakers. Smart.
**Thinking back on it, my interest in music might well have been an effort to be able to hang out with my siblings and not feel like such a baby of the group. This might explain my continuing interest in music as well..
***According to Wikipedia: "As of 2008, Pink Floyd's The Dark Side of the Moon has been on the charts for over 1,630 weeks, or approximately thirty-one years. Consecutively, the album spent a record 741 weeks on the Billboard 200".
**** Much more of this probably has to do with my watching the movie. I remember being so excited to watch that, and then even then knowing that there was never a bigger pile of shit.
***** For some reason I've never really liked Roger Daltrey. It only got worse when I realized he didn't really write any of the songs, or found out that he more or less threatened his way into the band...

wow. sorry for rambling as much as did right ther...

I've chosen not to get into the Michael Jackson dying just because I'm sure like me you've seen it in every single media outlet possible and might well be as sick of it as I am. That said, what the hell is going on in the Liberian Girl video? You see Feldman in there? Ricky Schroeder? Who is Theo trying to mack on his old-ass phone?

In its own strange way, I think that this video contains both the great and the awful about Michael Jackson all wrapped up into one confusing video. It might be the timeframe, or it might be that you can tell that this probably would've been his dream, to be watching some of Hollywood's biggest names sitting around talking about him. Either way, ...yeah.

Senator Franken?

It's almost July, and Minnesota might just have two senators now.

Why I don't read X-Men comics

Strangely, this is pretty calm when compared to the whole time travel thing.

from Eye on Springfield

It's the 40th Anniversary of the Stonewall Riots. I would've completely forgotten this if I hadn't been listening to a recording of an interview with Noel Coward and Judy Garland, whose nearby funeral was supposedly a big reason the Stonewall Inn was so crowded that night.

Anyway, it's pretty amazing how things have progressed with the gay rights movement. Of course, there are still many strides to take, but it's still as good a time as any to stop and look around for a minute and ponder on how in a lot of ways, things are moving in the right direction on this fucked up rock we call home.

It's like 150 degrees out right now and what I would like to do less than anything else on this green earth is sit here and read about the philosophies of information organization. But alas, I'm stuck with it. Still, this picture is just about heaven to me right now: a brisk, rainy day in the city with an Oscar-winning animated movie. Sigh.

found at Shorpy

Looking back with hope for the future

As a Philadelphia sports fan, it seems like draft day is usually the most positive, where we get a new addition to the team, and usually a cheap one at that. I was happy with the Eagles picking up Pitt alumn Shady McCoy, and despite the relatively low pick in a far from sensational draft, I remain optimistic for the Sixer's pick. Partially because of the new uniforms (it's for real, and Sonny Hill was there for proof!) and partially because of the fact that it's the Sixers, and I gotta look upwards. It's almost certain we're going for a guard, and if the mock drafts around the internet are believed, it's practically a lock that we'll go after Ty Lawson (though I saw one somewhere with us taking Chase Budinger, which terrifies me). I like Lawson, and I like pretty much every name I've seen thrown around (Maynor, Ellington, Maynor, Holiday, etc...), so I can't really complain as long as things go to plan.

Of course, it's the Sixers, so I'll probably have somehting to complain about tomorrow night. But for now, I remain hopelessly optimistic.

incidentally, there's a great bunch of photos over here of Philly throughout the 60s. There's legends, there's riots, there's everyday life, there's sports, and there's... Candice Bergen. It's honestly some great pictures, and I recommend the view. If you go over there, though, and look at the zombie prom pictures instead... I don't know you.

Ray Bradbury: Still Piss & Vinegar (at first he was just vinegar)

Ray Bradbury is violently opposed to the internet, and crusading for libraries.

First, let me state that I fucking love the guy's work. The Martian Chronicles and The Illustrated Man are two of my favorite works ever. and I certainly have no beef with him trying to save funding for libraries, for the obvious reasons both personal and professional.

But I don't get the internet hate. Sure it's a distraction, but it's an invaluable tool and capable of doing so much. At least once a day I read an anti-internet screed (written by people taking classes online, at that) and I can just roll my eyes and go back to looking at the latest celebrity gossip... or something.

Neutral professional

"The 20th Century has been characterized by three developments of great political importance: The growth of democracy, the growth of corporate power, and the growth of corporate propaganda as a means of protecting corporate power against democracy" - Alex Carey

I found this somewhere in a paper I was reading last night that about the idea of "the myth of the neutral professional*. Basically, the point was that there is no such thing as neutrality when in a position in which you are to teach or present. As a teacher, you can abstain from presenting a dissident opinion when teaching politics or history, but that in doing so, you're perpetuating the dominant power. It says that neutrality, or at least the attempt at it in these instances is really the passive acceptance of the status quo. And even if you present the two major competing ideologies involved, who's to say you're not leaving a third or fourth out, and thus not giving them equal attention, blah blah blah.

I disagree with a lot of the points made in this article, not the least that I feel like the author has so liberally biased the article that it will fall to many of the concepts presented within it. Nonetheless, it's an interesting read and short enough that some of you might actually be interested in reading it.

So there's that.

*this is relating more to the more literal definition of the word. Or at least I'm told.

It was 40 years ago yesterday that Cleveland's lake Cuyahoga caught fire, giving Pittsburgh something to feel good about for years before the Steel Curtain instilled a whole new pride. It's improved a great deal since then, but it does remain on the EPA's polluted list. Frankly, I think it's nice just to see some improvement in the region. Western PA/Ohio has historically had some of the most polluted waterways in the country, stemming largely from industrial sites, many of which are long gone. The region is still paying for it, though (Consider that PA has as many superfund sites as California, for a second, despite having less than a third of the area). So as laughable as the fire was, at least it gave birth to some serious reconsideration on our environmental stance, which we should be grateful for.

Anyway, there's a great article here documenting like 15 other fires that took plce on the river, going back well over a century. Apparently, "Compared to the 1952 inferno, the 1969 fire was nothing special, a freak accident that merited little local concern, but sparked national attention because of increased environmental consciousness throughout the country".

It seems like most of the pictures we see and associate with the 1969 fire (and likely including the one above) were actually from the 1952 fire. Huh.

Triumph at Bonnaroo

I don't think I've mentioned how great Conan has been since the switch, but it's not like I have to. Nothing's changed, really, except he has higher profile guests than before. It's been a long bumpy road since the monorail episode of the Simpsons, but he hasn't skipped a beat. Go Conan.

Pt. 1 is over at the NBA site.

So I put that mix up that I tried to finish before leaving. I had to cut 2 songs off it to prevent having to split it up, but there's no big loss.

From English Russia

And people complain about Betterton's steps...

The Smugglers of Pirate's Cove

Indoor pool with diving platform

Sea Breeze Serenade

1. "Four Minutes to Lock Down" (feat. Raekwon & Ghostface Killah) - Method Man and Redman
2. "Holiday" - Pink Mountaintops
3. "Reality" - Carolyn Franklin
4. "Horror Business" - Pajo
5. "Ships With Holes Will Sink" - We Were Promised Jetpacks
6. "Love Vigilantes" - Iron & Wine
7. "Honeybee" - Throw Me the Statue
8. "A Broken Heart Don't Really Break" - Main Ingredient
9. "When I'm Gone" - Groovie Ghoulies
10. "Return Journey" - Ghost
11. "Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers" - Nella Dodds
12. "The Reason Young People Use Drugs" - Abner Jay
13. "Ships Go Out" - Ron Sexsmith
14. "Love Comes and Goes" - Lee Fields & The Expressions
15. "They Done Wrong/We Done Wrong" - White Rabbits
16. "All of the Above" - The Phenomenal Handclap Band
17. "When I Go" - Slow Club
18. "Fuck Christmas, I Got the Blues" - The Legendary Tiger Man
19. "Never Forget You" - Noisettes

This isn't put together as well as I'd like it to be, and but I'm set to go on vacation in a couple of hours, so I figured better now than never. It's kind of all over the place.

Sorry I didn't get to update this more over the weekend, Finals and a small bout of food poisoning have kept me somewhat out of the loop. I'll post pictures of the trip if/when I have reception, but otherwise I won't be able to really post until Friday morning. Hope everyone has a good week!

Download here

Finals: DONE

Yes, I have resumed sleeping, bathing, speaking, etc...

I have a coupla posts and another mix lined up, but first I have to run some long overdue errands. Needless to say, I'm excited to write about bullshit for awhile. So yeah, that's coming.

in the meantime... look at this fucking hipster.

I know I said I was taking some time off, but 2 things happened:
First, I was going over lecture notes about web 2.0 and libraries 2.0 (I am promising here and now that these terms will never appear here again) and there was a passage to the extent of "if you can't find the time to post to a blog regularly don't bother" and then I felt guilty.

Second, CRYPTID SIGHTING!!!!!! This is all over the nerdly realms of the internet, but in case you don't frequent the same dorkish corners of the web that I do, basically what happened is that a Vermont man allegedly caught on his camera phone some footage of the Lake Champlain monster "Champ". One of the great things about camera phones is that things like this are boung to start being mroe plentiful, right? Well, that and and blurry videos of celebrities in airports).

Anyway, this looks to be the first "major" recorded sighting of Champ in over 30 years (see the picture above). So if you live in the Lake Champlain region, get ready for the invasion of sweaty folk and drunk people with harpoon guns.

I've been absent lately because of my impending finals (1 project down, 1 project and 1 exam to go), and I haven't had very interesting things to share. I have about 2 hours a day where I'm awake and not staring at notes, so I try to spend it not doing anything in front of the computer. Anyway, I'll be back by next wednesday, and I have a waist-high stack of emails, correspondence, phone calls, magazines, albums, and comics to peruse, so I should have a whole bunch of stuff to run my mouth off on. So please bear with me. In the meantime, Conan has returned like the milkman in war-torn London, bringing nutricious laughs, so I'm gonna watch the glorious ascension to host of the Tonight Show.


anyway, check out this link I found at Duane Swierczynski's site (which is great for anyone interested in classic hardboiled and noir detective stories and comics). It's a photo set of all these pulpish shots of a beautiful woman shot on old Polaroid stock. Anyway, I just spent plenty of time just imagining low-budget gore and sexploitation flicks based around all of these. Warning: there's some nudity involved.

Neil Krug's Pulp Art Book

Happy Memorial Day

I'm in the throes of wrapping up my first quarter of classes, but take some time off of your Memorial Day to flip through some of these photos taken during World War I of soldiers of the British Empire as they prepare for one of the longest and bloodiest battles in recorded history.

Which isn't to say that they're particularly sad or harrowing, but they are worth taking a look at, especially considering that they've been sitting in a French barn for the past 90 years and that next to nothing is known about them.

For me, I can only look at them and see these people, most of whom were probably younger than I am now when these were taken and many of whom were probably dead 6 months later, these people trying to retain something of themselves in what could only have been miserable conditions. They pose proudly, sometimes smiling, sometimes with local children, putting on a brave face to send back home to their parents or sweethearts or friends.

WWI both fascinates and terrifies me. It conjures the images placed there by people like Owen and Remarque, these horrific images of panic and weariness and death. this is a war in which modern warfare was born, and largely without the sister development of modern medicine that is supposed to accompany it. Never a good combination.

I've never been stupid enough to think I could hack it in a war. But if there is indeed a war that scares me above all others, this is it. War has never been sensible. But as hard to believe, I think it has only gotten more sensible.

Stop and remember that people are dead today. You don't have to agree with their cause or their government. you don't have to pick someone from your country. You don't have to pick the winners or the losers. But just think for a second that millions and millions of people have died for causes that are forgotten by most today. You don't have to remember them. But at least stop and think of them for a minute. It's the least they've earned.

This is a picture, not a painting, of the Forth railway bridge in Scotland. It's apparently the "one internationally recognized Scottish landmark", which is news to me, but looking at this picture, I can certainly see why.

warning: other views are not as glamorous.

Mailbox. Monday afternoon.

1. Tom
2. "Let's Move to the Country" - Smog
3. "Section House" - The End of the World
4. "Je N'Aime Que Toi" - Ludivine Sagnier, Louis Garel, Clothilde Hesme
5. "Don't Be a Rude Boy" - The Rulers
6. "Chances Are" - The Breeders
7. "Silver Threads Among the Gold" - Cheyenne Mize and Bonnie "Prince" Billy
8. "What time is it?"
9. "Pinch Me (Baby Convince Me)" - Chestnut Station
10. "The Boys Are Leaving Town" - Japandroids
11. "And the Hazy Sea" - Cymbals Eat Guitars
12. "The Man Who Played God" (feat. Nina Persson) - Danger Mouse & Sparklerhorse
13. "When Will You Come Home" (Jouhn Peel version) - Galaxie 500
14. "It Just Dawned on Me" - John Doe and the Sadies
15. "What Time it is?"
16. "You Might as Well" - Sera Cahoone
17. "Freeway" - Kurt Vile
18. "Soldiers Take Over" - The Rio Grandes
19. "Loving Cajun Style" - Freddy Fender
20. "But I'm Different Now" - The Jam
21. "If You See What I Mean" - P.P. Arnold

download here.

This is mix I've been playing with for some time now, and I just now slapped some final pieces in and conjured up some artwork. I had to cut a few songs because they were too long, but it's kinda sad because I know I'll forget about them the next time I sit down to this. The new computer either makes it much harder or much easier to make mixes on, I haven't decided which, though.
the picture is of the old Luna Park in the North Oakland neighborhood of Pittsburgh. There were Luna Parks built all over the country, and this one seems only to have operated between 1905-1909, which is surprsing, considering how nice it looks and how much money was in that city at the time. About 85 years after that picture was taken, I lived there, any trace of it had disappeared. There's still a bar named after the place there, one I have only slurry memories of, but recall it as having the drunkest bartenders and most sexually ambiguous bouncer in town. Within 8 minutes of moving to the neighborhood, I locked my keys in the car right in front of the place and had the distinct pleasure of helping a talking to the cop with a beer in my hand as he slim-jimmed my door open (permanently damaging said passenger-side door inthe process). Once, while on a pseudo-date there, I man tried to sell me shopping bag full of pornography.
Good times....

Three separate friends, none of whom know each other, each had children in the past three days. This has to be some weird strike of stork lightning, right? RIGHT?

In any case, my congratulations go out to all of you that might read this. I'm truly amazed by your individual and collective efforts. May your children be strong and beautiful and carry the wonderful qualities that I see in their parents.

As a requirement for one of my classes, I've been working what amounts to an online reference desk at the Internet Public Library. So far, it's been a pretty pleasant experience, and I enjoy it because I get to choose what questions I answer, which means it's usually something that I'm at least mildly curious about. Anything from Philadelphia's role in the Civil War to copyright laws, I've managed to pick up some interesting stuff.
A question I answered today was "Is Hello Kitty from Japan or England". It seemed like a pretty easy one to me, but as always that's a little deceiving (answer: both). Anyway, in my research, I stumbled across news records of the Hello Kitty murder, a case that shocked Hong Kong towards the end of the year 2000. Basically what happened is that a young woman was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered before her decapitated head was stuffed inside of a Hello Kitty doll. Terrifying, right? What's even crazier is that a 13 year-old girl had apparently been dreaming about it before the police there figured out what happened. Yikes. Anyway, I'm sorry if I'm ruining it for you, but I thought it was morbidly interesting.

Hopefully I'll have something a little more positive to report on for my next question...

Not to mention that there seems to be a number of Hello Kitty guns on the market... which I'm not even gonna get into.

The Sword of Victory, Russian

I know I've been scarce lately, thank midterms. I'm too tired to think, and I've been listening to a startling amount of musical theater while I've been studying lately. I think it goes back to the (terrible) study habits I picked up when I once shared a study space with one of my brothers and one of my sisters and in an effort to fool my parents into thinking this setup was effective (it wasn't, but my siblings could smoke cigarettes in the house undetected), they would play Les Miserables while we sifted through notebooks.

In any case, I'll post something later, but in the meantime I need to get back to homework and then seriously try to limp my way over to the gym so I can claim I at least walked that far out of the house.

For now, though, I feel like this little guy.

Captain Chaos R.I.P.

Great, now I got the Golden Girls and Cannonball Run to slough through.

Thru You: Imagine slapping together songs a la Garageband, only with Youtube videos. The result is this hodgepodge of guys pretending to film instructional videos, jagoffs videotaping themselves shredding in their bedroom, distraught girls singing to themselves, etc... The list goes on. It sort of gels, and sort of looks like a bunch of people whose videos were chopped up and arranged into songs on more YouTube videos.

Anyway, it's worth checking out. It's real evidence that with enough pot and editing software, you can truly put something together. I recommend tracks 1,3,4, and 7.

edit: and pets. There seem to be a lot of pets around these people.

One of the more entertaining aspects of David Souter's retirement: I've heard the term "Bork" four times since Friday.

Sure, it's probably more of a name than a term, but it's still pretty awesome.

This is going to be a long, dumb war between ideologies coming up, but I can't imagine it's going to end up all that different that it is now.

hey, That should be a motto for our political system.

Saw this the other day and I can honestly say that it's a pretty decent approximation of the inside of my head.

Brecht Vandenbrouke on Flickr.