Monday, January 31, 2005

The more things change, the more men stay boys

Merry Monday.
This in from my oldest friend, 'Star Wars Mike', known to many of my friends by name and having never met him. He has a jawdropping collection of old and new sci-fi toy merchandise. That's his hobby, collecting that stuff. Dad was a serious card collector back in the day, Mom collected Barbie's, it's in his DNA. SWMike has original Planet of the Apes sets unwrapped, original Star Trek, 80s Buck Rogers, Raiders of the Lost Ark (yes, remember, they had figures and vehicles for that. Black Hole (Vincent and Old Bob the droids), two unwrapped Boba Fett's still in the UPS package from when you had to send away for him in 1981 with cutout seals from the other figures you bought. The Cheerio's cards, the Burger King Glasses (whole classic trilogy), the dixie cups, you name it. It's a museum. Like the girl with classic toys episode of Seinfeld.

So with that introduction out the way, here's an email I got from him today. His son Connor is 5 now and as ruthless a collector as they come. Just like Dad. And Grandpa.

"Score! The new E3 Preview figures are out. Saturday night we picked up 2 General Grievous, the lava planet ambassador, and the wookie soldier (there were no R2 units which I thought was odd!) There is actually a funny story behind it. I was in the aisle with my son and daughter and I was looking at the Man Thing Marvel figure and Connor goes Hay dad they have a Grievous. I was like get out of here, no they don't. My son was like yeah they do! I lean over and look down the isle and said OH MY GOD THEY DO! I had known that they were out but never expected to find one on a Saturday night. We laughed all weekend about it. We also picked up that red Clone Trooper with the 2 laser guns.


*UPDATE*: SWMike sends in this link of Super Grande Explo-zee-ann of Star Wars merchandise at WalMart.


Speaking of when we grew up...
The 'Happy Days' cast has another reunion special this week. 30 year anniversary. Thursday night at 8pm. If you happen to catch Cha-Chi, there's ointments for that.

Weirdo German Socialists Gone Wild!


You don't even wanna know the piece I wrote on getting rid of my Contour this past weekend, the 'Green Goose'... my car of the last 7 years. Another coat of polish and I'll be delivering the 'Old Yeller' of sheet metal. Stay tuned. Or run now. Or buy Visine for monitor eyes.

Sting is going on tour again in April. Back to basics with a four piece rooted more in guitar and rock. Like the Soul Cages tour of 1991, but this time purposely playing college towns and smaller arenas, like Van Andel in Grand Rapids, MI. To again get back in the rock nature of a quartet with more stretching and improvising.

Soap + Box ='s:
I've heard the bitching. For years. I understand (yet don't really agree, but anyway...). But if you like superb music, played by world class musicians, go see this tour. For 2 hours you can forget the 'arrogance - smugness - tantric yoga sex- anti-Police reunion - Jaguar commercial - tries to act in movies - vegetarian - too many songs about love - Rainforest saving - Elton John hugging - thinks he's all that at 50' catty perception of Sting the celebrity and go see why all that shit doesn't change the fact that he sells out wherever he goes for a reason: He puts on a great show, his bands can play their ass off, and yes, he IS that good. The shows with the bigger bands by nature have to be more streamlined with that many players, but 4 people can stretch alot. And Sting proved that in the Police and on the 91 and 93 tours with the 4-piece.

Ok fine, make me use the big guns you hipsters:
"they'll probably play more old Police tunes!...In fact Sting even said so."

Fine, make me pull out the Cred Grenade:
The keyboardist is Shayne Fontayne (Lone Justice, Bruce Springsteen), and the drummer is Josh Freese, the new 'session cat that plays with everyone' these days and currently a member of A Perfect Circle. Now if these "legit" guys, who are around 30, and love alot of the same hip music that we persnickety Sting bitchers like, why on Earth would they play with him? The money you might say? Oh but that would be selling out, and that's a big no-no to us Generation X'ers, except for U2, Bruce, REM, and Wilco. They just sell-out arenas, no corporation underwrites their tours, no...

Just go see Sting kids, he's good. And the tix are $40, not $80. It'll be like when your parents took you to Neil Diamond and it took you a week to tell only your closest friend in confidence that it was actually a fantastic show. (This is before mock-retro-feigned-worship of Neil took hold.)

Thursday, January 27, 2005

You're My Dawg, uuhh, Mr. DawgMan

Next time you watch Randy Jackson on American Idol make fun of anyone's "look", remember these clothes and hair from when he played bass with Journey on the 1986 'Raised On Radio' tour.
The tour that Steve and Neal kicked drummer Steve Smith and bassist Ross Valory out of the band because...well, because... Steve Perry was a fucking dick. Great singer though. Good Look. Great drumma.

Speaking of Journey and Steve Perry's dickishness...
The ever-evolving band that is Journey got their name on the Walk Of Fame in Hollywood this week. What's nutty is that everyone ever involved showed up. Like Steve Perry, who basically put a Voo-Dooian Death Curse on the rest of the band for getting a new singer and touring without him when he bratted out 5 years ago. [See: Behind The Music]. You'd think he wouldn't set foot within a mile of these guys, but he's there. And so is the new singer Steve Augeri, who is excellent by the way.

Jonathan Cain, George Tickner, Steve Perry, Aynsley Dunbar, Neal Schon, Robert Fleischman, Ross Valory, Steve Augeri, Steve Smith, and Deen Castronovo
(I like the Steve Perry in all black suit, Steve Augeri in all white suit thing going. And geezus Neal Schon...dress up for an award why don't you.)

ER: Special Idiots Unit. 8 Eastern/9 Left Of Central
They don't write Law & Orders this eff'd up.

I happen to know a nurse who, while working, was thoroughly cussed out by the impatient angry mother of a patient she was caring for: a 17 year-old who 'borrowed' his parent's car and slammed into a tree at 100mph. (Apparently out of spite and attention aimed at his oh-so-loving parents.) He too is a cussing, undiscrete angry person. As well as a "son of a bitch" and "little asshole" according to the Mother on the phone (calling to check up on him, mind you). The nurse I happen to know thought about reporting this incident to appropriate hospital personel - to refer the kid to Anger Management therapy and also log a report about the crazy Mother.

Then she learned...[wait for it]...that the person she'd report it to, the head cheese of the Anger Management department - was the same cussing Mother on the phone. A couple of floors away.
I wonder why the kid is so angry?

And you thought THAT was crazy medical stuff:
Doctors have been fusing human embryo cells with animal embryo cells. Human-animal hybrids.
Remember Calibos from 'Clash Of The Titans'?
These scientists aren't stopped, he's gonna be mowing the lawn next door.


Got my first W-2 form in the mail today, taxes time she be a comin'.
Hmmm...I wonder what I'll do with my tax refund this year?...

Zac sent me this, from his Onion desk calendar.
Mad Lib Filled With Swears

PORTLAND, ME— The popular party amusement Mad Libs was misued for profane
purposes Monday, when Peter Leff, a Portland-area 12-year-old, filled the
blank spaces on a "Space Adventure Mad Lib" entirely with swear words.

"Prepare to shit the enemy," Leff had Space Commander Mr. Garrick say. "Set
all pussys on fart and brace for blowjobs."


I replied to Zac with this, then he said to put it on BeLog:
One of my favs of all time.
At JWT, that phrase was kept alive for a good week in all email
correspondances when it appeared in Onion years ago. CLASS-IC.

One of my cherished memories was 6th grade when MadLibs was the
greatest thing. We had a book filled with every swear word we could
mutter or imagine. Vulgar equations of Pythagorean Quantum Proportions. No orifice or foul-smelling substance was denied. The teacher confiscated it and put it on her desk. We then watched a movie, so with the lights out, my pals and I shared glances of utter horror and concern that when she read that, we were all going down hard.

One of the few times in my life I ran into the burning house without
thinking to save the day, with no other plan for rescue. I go days figuring
a plan (an obsesseive fault of mine), but there was no plan, and my only opp was laughing in the face of anniolation and grabbing that book. I simply crouch-walked from my desk down the desk aisle, (the same aisle the movie was projecting down btw), walking like Chuck Berry doing his duck-walk but hunched over to keep my head from shadowpuppeting the movie, got to the desk, grabbed, brought it back and hid it somewhere.
Anywhere. Just_not_on_that_desk.

How on Earth that teacher didn't see one kid out of 25 start moving during a
movie, grab something off her desk, and not say something or scream at me,
or ask what the hell was going on, I'll never know. It simply didn't make
sense that I defied authority that brazenly and grabbed something back that a teacher took
from us.

When I die and time travel across planes of dimension, I'm going back to
that moment to see what happened/why I got away with that.

I know I know...get a blog.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005


A funny reply from a friend who's birthday I wished him well on yesterday:
"For what its worth, I only have one more year left to
enjoy the much coveted 18-34 demographic. In exactly
one year, I could be walking down the street drinking
a Pepsi and no one will care. Sigh...

Well, at least he can still chomp a Dorito and scream EXTREEEEEEEMELY loud. Because of the EXTREEEEEME flavor. But he might be too old for that. But then why would anyone want to do that?
T.H.B. thinks it might be due to the exreeeeeme lack of parenting skills that allowed a generation of teenagers to respond favorably to advertising depicting them in a blue-green film stock filter dreamland where screaming for what you want, whenever one wants, is rewarded with sugar, great clothes, free rock instruments, and whatever Junior wanted in the first place. Which seems to be most likely looking like a supermodel while banging a stranger in a bathroom with the door open letting the party crowd watch.


It's In The Cards...
Funny how in the card game UNO, the instructions state that if you play a Wild Draw Four card, you better not have had a color or number that could have been played instead of the Wild card. Because someone can challenge you saying "I think you had a 'correct' card you could have played.' If the Wild Draw Four card has been played illegally, the offending player must draw 4 cards instead. But if the card has been correctly played, the CHALLENGER must draw 2 cards in addition to the 4 cards that the Wild card first demanded them to.

Kinda funny... when the gold-digging groupie later admits that she lied about Mr. Athlete raping her, you don't see her name and identity get dragged thru the media mud too as a penalty. I.e. pick up her 6 cards


Whoa...this site is cooky:


This Rush Calender saved my work cube mojo. The classic red Tama set on the lakeraft is worth the price alone. (see the example pic once there)

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Here's (to you) Johnny


Johnny Carson flew away Sunday.
(Just look at any news site.)

Coincidentally Saturday night I popped my VHS of the Rat Pack special from 1964; Sammy, Dean , and Frank doing a charity concert in St. Louis, and Johnny was the MC. Hadn't watched it in 4 years. He was a last minute replacement it's said on the show. I'm standing in the kitchen, watching the TV from 20 feet away while chatting and cooking, watching a young 1964 Johnny smooth the crowd over with his boyish charm and mature jokes. Kept thinking to myself how much I loved, and dearly missed, Carson.

Now again, I'm reminded of this weird thing ('thing' is the best best word for it) where right before a celebrity dies, I just so happen to have watched a movie with them in it, or searched online for clips about them, talked about them at a party...stuff like that. It's weird. It's not a random coincidence thing that I'm making up for attention. I don't foresee or predict celebrity deaths. It's not all celebrities. Just enough to have made me realize that by some strange chance, I was thinking about them alot, out of nowhere, right before they died.

I'm going to start a list of when this happens.

I feel lucky to be able to say, like so many people and generations, that I grew up with Johnny. I remember spending the night over brother Paul and Phil's down the block, (two of my gang of friends on the block), at 9 years old, staying up all night on soda, pizza, and Life cereal we'd put peanut butter on. We watched the Tonight show and this one time it was close to President's Day. Johnny did a bit where he was Abe Lincoln, in full costume, and while trying to deliver a speech, different parts of his clothes would fly off from bullets being shot at him. His tall hat blowing off right in beat with the puncline of some hilariously bad joke he was telling.
We fell back howling onto the "floor" of sleeping bags, crushed chips, and duffle bags full of Atari games and toothbrushes, the Modern Day Munitions of Sleepovers on my block. Pillows and sleeping bags bunched up against the foot of dressers and bed legs, a socio-physics anomoly; proving its possible to cram that much pre-adolescent energy into a space that *should* cause discomfort, irritability, and short patience spans.

It always sucked dismantling Camp BoyFort the morning after. But the smell of the [hosting friend's] Mom's way of cooking eggs for the Overnight Troops was always a mesmerizing alarm clock. Because every friend's sleepover had a different breakfast smell. Possibly one of the first experiences (and quite universal I'd say) kids have of learning that the world is not the same everywhere.

I also remember July of 1985, we took our family camper up to Interlochen campground near Traverse City. Running around the campground, I came back for more money to use in the garage/rec room/arcade. Standing inside the screen door of the camper, for a second I watched the little tiny TV we had in the camper, it was on the Tonight Show and Johnny was wearing a white blazer, chin in his left hand, left elbow on the desk talking to ... to....God I can see the guy but can't get the face in memory to unblur. There was just something comforting about seeing Johnny on TV late at night. You could be 5 hours away from home, bored, not knowing where anything fun to do was, but since Johnny was on TV, you still felt like the world was the same.

I had a stiff drink at TC's in Ypsi the night after Dean Martin died, the night after Christmas 95. In honor of him. And I don't drink stiff drinks really. But some men just deserve a real drink in their honor, since they did things the real way, with real class. Johnny was a class act. I need to drink for him tonight. He could infer the saucier punchline by delivering it in an opposite, and even more innocent context. The contrast of the punchline to the hinting racy nature of the setup is what made it genius. Everyone's blushing, everyone knows the subtext, but everyone from Grandma to us Cub Scouts could laugh and appreciate the joke. And noone had to explain, or recap, or reiterate. Discretion is such a lost art anymore, eapecially in comedy. If done right, the naughtiest context can sneak thru on national TV if there is class and an obvious use of strategic restraint in shaping the joke. Maybe like a Zen master riding a bull thru a china shop, without breaking or knocking anything over. Making something fit that shouldn't, if you just take the time to guide it right.

I get in the car to come to work this Monday morning and NPR reminds me that from waking till the radio dial, I forgot Johnny died. The sadness came back, and listening to Johnny do Carnac with Ed, and other bits from a montage of clips they prepared, it hit home again how much comedy and TV has really changed in the 13-15 years since Johnny's era ended. So much cynicism, anger, pessimism. (And its not lost on me that we recognize in others what we recognize in ourselves) It's a cultural thing, we can root back and break down the reasons why via media and the last 20 years of Americana, yadda yadda...

But Carson, for me, reminded of that bygone era where you just simply dressed up for certain things without question, a good joke was a requirement of a man's social skills, and having a bar in your house or basement rec room was a symbol of welcome and goodwill, not a measure of repressed escapist white-trash tendencies. Your guests came over, you fixed them a drink. Revving your bar was like bringing the nice dishes out. The skill and ceremony of making the drink was a visual and tangible statement of the hosts' appreciation and care for their guests. I choose to take the time to create and produce something for your pleasure. Now, we tell our guests to grab a Mike's Hard Lemonade out of the fridge themselves.

Anyway... the Carson clips ended on NPR. I think for a moment, wish Johnny's spirit a due rest, and hit another dial. Right on the money, the chorus of Bruce Hornsby's 'End Of The Innocence' comes thru the speakers. Life is pretty cool.

Carson Laughing
I'll bet he's laughing with so many of his dear friends who left a long time ago now.

Here's a link to a great audio piece on Johnny, from NPR.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Nice is a Nice word.

And pleasant to look at too. Ever really look at the shapes of what 'Nice' (as letters) look like as one word/image?
Try it.
(Think of it as 'Squiggle thing, line with dot, half a circle, half a circle with a shelf)

Another fun one like it:
Turn it on side:
(looks like a funky comb)

Upside down:

Mom looking at reflection in water:

For the Goth/Tim Burton fan in you, it's Mom looking at her twin sister trapped under ice.
We're an equal sensibility blog here.


Here' something extremely pleasant to look at: The full new Tears For Fears video.
Brittany Murphy looks very cool in it. In one fell recommendation by her agent, she went from another ignorable generic Britney-look actress to serious Below Cred Recipient

This video transcends being a fan or not. Its just good art.
Disagree? Sorry, you're wrong.


Joy was right. I do appreciate this:
Mr. Potato Head Goes to the Dark Side

6 lb. Burger
I saw them open for Five Dollar Brownie at St. Andrews once.
No, er, wait...that was Funk Bunker.

Hate blaring TV's in waiting rooms, restaurants?
Meet your new friend, TV B-Gone.

My new band is gonna be called 'Outback Outhouse Out Back.'

T.H.B. sends in:

F*cking idiots. IDIOTS.
Christians issue gay warning on SpongeBob video
Toss your baby blankets folks. That's next. Soft cloths against the skin at an early influencing age may cause soft fabric purchase decisions later in life meaning more sensitivity-->meaning more liberal attitudes-->meaning more chance of being gay maybe. Baby blue for boys needs to change too. Make it dark Navy blue. Strong. Like a business suit you wear to church. And get rid of that pink girl blanket. Too gentle. Suzie won't ever be Head BallBuster CEO of MegaCorp Inc if she's taught to be a softie. Get the dark fire engine red blanket, get the fire burning in her early so get what she wants, empower her. That blanket needs to be the subconcious forbearer of the standout red strapless dress she wears to the Promotion Ceremony. To prove why she now runs the corporation/who wears the pants around that office, and let the office guys wives know who Diva #1 is. A red like the burnt-flesh hole in the goalie's torso from the soccer ball Suzie torpedo'd thru her into the net behind her. You can hear Emilio's Breakfast Club dad screaming on the sideline: "WIN Damn't...WIN!"

Don't use plastic baby spoons to feed infants either, can't condition Junior to believe they're not good enough for metal silverware and a prosperous life. Get rid of the strollers too, society ain't going to wheel their ass around their whole life, don't ingrain that mindset early on. Leave them on the couch, to fend for themselves. Make sure they understand "Don't be Gay, Don't Expect Help Or Money." Kermit the frog is okay though, he's green. Like a Green Beret. Just the kind of self reliance we need to teach kids. Toys? who needs'em. Let'em loose at a construction site, they'll figure out what hurts and what doesn't. Darwinism. The crawling toddler who doesn't fall down the recently poured elevator shaft doesn't grow up to be a shady contractor not getting the job done right.

We'll get there America. We_just_have_to_try_harder.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

America's Parent's Idols

T.H.B. chimes in...
Watching the American Idol tryout show while folding laundry really concerned me, as it always does. Some of these poor kids obviously experiencing their first " Actually Can't" on live national TV. Good looking teens of OK/so-so talent who by their shutzpah, vigor, and extreme confidence seem likely to have been fetish-ized and led to believe they are really, truly, beyond a doubt, the most special-est, talented, un-wrong, beautiful children in the Galaxy's Prime System. John Dewey's 'Progressive Education', social and esteem-based learning, parents punching out little league coaches, overbearing parent-managers of kid stars... these striving Super Parents have been feeding their kids so much worship that they're feeding them to the Idol-esque shows of this era like raw chud to be chewed up for ratings. It's sad and very disheartening to think on how screwed up these kids are going to be.

If you've ever sensed this too, check out these rather strong articles about our modern education systems contributing to the mindset of these young 'superstars':

"Our Killing Schools: Intellectual and Moral Wastelands that Destroy America's Youth"

"A Nation of Wimps"

"Modern Education Kills"

It's not every kid. Just way too many of them.
You know...the ones in the "...Gone Wild" videos.


Ok, fun less-depressing stuff...

A teaser clip of the forthcoming new video by the reunited Tears For Fears.
Windows format
Quicktime format

Cool to see the classic TFF ornate video style imagined with new millenium technology. And Brittany Murphy stars in it.
The new TFF album reuniting Roland and Curt is absolutely superb btw.


Ok, now really fun stuff...

Animal from the Muppet Show VS. Buddy Rich in a drum solo duel.


Well... this obviously calls for
This Blog's First Ever "Drumming 101":
Buddy Rich was and pretty much still is regarded as the best drummer that ever lived. John Bonham of Zeppelin, Neil Peart of Rush, Keith Moon of the Who...Buddy Rich was THEIR hero growing up. If you'd like to see why, go here to listen and watch him play.

But no matter what, at least watch these if anything:
Buddy with Tommy James Orchestra

Buddy on Johnny Carson
Not bad for a 62 year-old, eh?

Watch those and the next time you zone out with some BT's to the 'Moby Dick' drum solo off that Zeppelin DVD dude, you'll hear some serious similarities bro.

I Guarantee It.

Now we know where the defecting Russian Generals went who wanted no part of the Cold War; they gave lessons in the Disco Inferno!
Stevie Z sent me that one

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Bibim Bop ya over the head

While enjoying our almost-traditional Sunday breakfast at the great KOSMO deli in A2's Kerrytown (Bibim Bop and Kim Bop), a loud walluping hammering emanated from the fish deli across the main walkway. Loud enough to make anyone in the indoor open foodmarket area turn and wonder what poor object angered someone so much to merit that kind of a beating. I deduced to Joyous that the guy must be tenderizing some meat or fish. Interesting and kind of funny, we agreed, that in order to tenderize something, you have to be so brutal with it.

At that moment I remembered the documentary that Joyous rented this weekend, 'Girlhood', a powerful documentary that follows two teen girls in the juvie system over three years. Both of them in for very violent crimes. Leaving the house, the last scene we watched before cutting the DVD player, was with one of the juvie counselors being especially tough and intense with one of the girls, trying to get through to her so she'd soften up and consider more deeply her life's paths and decisions.

Today's Don't Put It In Your Notes, Put It In Your Life Alert:
Before buying online, check here at A good chance there's an online discount for ya from the site you're at, like free shipping, or $ off over certain amounts ordered. You can search by company, type of products, you name it.

Quite The Thought, sent from a buddy currently in UCLA's MBA program:

"Three decades ago sociologist Daniel Bell postulated the ``cultural contradictions of capitalism.'' He meant that capitalism, by its success, subverts its cultural prerequisites. At first, capitalism depended on a Protestant asceticism -- thrift, deferral of gratification, industriousness. But capitalism produces wealth, and a shift from production to consumption -- the marketing of hedonism -- as the economy's motor. The banishment of asceticism by acquisitiveness means the systematic inflammation of appetites and the undermining of stern capitalist virtues. "

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Sounds like an Austin Powers party...

'The Tramp nightclub', a Playboy playmate karate-kicks another girl from the dance pole during a catfight... does life get any better than this?

A mouse friend of mine shares his disappointment about the fighting girls...


In my head I hear the meter-peaking Looney Tunes "byeeoOURW-BROWMP!"sound when she hit.

Until I figure out how to get his link to appear somewhere permanent, make sure to hit Zac's "DataWhat?" blog.
Like, every day. To see how much his blog has influenced my Blognciousness.

First Trivial Observation Put On The Blog Instead Of Mass-Emailed To Friend's During Their Workday:

Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh have the same weird pronunciations when it comes to S's. It's this weird sound like they're kind of puckering their mouths due to extra spittle produced from too many cigars and talking like country club members a la Ted Knight/Judge Shmails in Caddyshack. Slightly more tension and protrusion in the bottom lip than the top. A slur about half as intense as a good Sean Connery impression, but more 'Ssssh' sound passing the front top teeth, than a "SHHH"ing like ol' 007. It sounds like their mouths move the same way that Tim Matheson's does when he talks. Watch 'Animal House' or anything he's in and you'll see.

Tim was this guy ("Otter") in Animal House:

And speaking of, check out this cool site with pics from when the Animal House cast reunited for the done-up DVD when it came out recently. Cool to see what they look like now. They did a parade again with floats like the movie in the same college town. My girlfriend worked and took classes at that school. Up in Oregon.
She says she never went to any Delta parties... but the way she can drink me under the table, I dunno...

The new Battlestar Galactica series (given the greenlight after last Christmas's mini-series) starts tonight. 8:30, SciFi channel.

It's the re-imagined BG, and last year's mini-series was extremely well-done.
Great acting and writing, great tasteful effects. A grittier, updated, more realistic take on the 'ragtag fleet trying to escape destruction and find this "Earth".' This production team did an excellent job retooling this. Nothing at all bordering on campy or 'Star Wars for Sunday Night" like the 70s show was.

You wouldn't think Starbuck being a girl would work, but it really really did.
Edward James Olmos, (the Latino captain from Miami Vice), plays Commander Adama (the Lornbe Green role). He's a tough old coot and is superb.

Hope you enjoy if you check it out.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Behold the B(eL)irthing of BeLog

Well, it only took months and bodily threats from my friend Zac to finally get a proper repository for my catharsii, i.e. a blog. But It's Happened.

I assume a proper Christening and Mission Statement is in order:
[cough, ahem.]

With this blog I swear to upold the principles of truth, equality, and uh, freedom in mass communication aaaaand ehhh, uhmm, ethical treatment of all opinions and fuck it., it's gonna be about lightsabres and laser fights in space. And sweet drumsets and Van Halen rants defending all 3 singers. Pretty much what friends know I really only seriously get excited about. (Along with Best Buy coupons, toboggan wipeout footage, The Young Ones, online banking, Her Joyous' cooking, Fripp aphorisms, and seeing in one year Phish, Van Halen, new Level 42 [dvd], Rush, and Tears For Fears live.)

Also, a self-imposed exercise in more effective communication while having fun. And probably best of all, if machines had souls and lungs, a collective rush of air from the sighs of my friend's inboxes will be sieving the North Woods in celebration of their exit from Below Email Bondage. And Her Joyous can only be juust_sooo_thrilled that I have another reason to spend time on this computer. But I'll be good.

We'll have links, and silliness, and Adventures In Grammar. And pictures to underscore the comedic intent. Please forgive the probable changing looks as I find my inner blog fashion sense.

I swear, if it gets out of control...and I start to leave the rails...I'll at least try to make it a fun exhausting.

So let's get it started and see what happens:
"Drum roll, er, uh, hellacious quads at Mach4 please Alex?"
(The drummers out there will get that one)

Hey, I know her!

I went to high school with this girl from Trenton on "24" . The Detroit Free Press did the linked article on her. Did a one-act play with her in drama class, hung out together at Denny's till 4am after the 10-year reunion. Very fun, she's done a bunch of movies and TV in the last 8 years. Coolio, good for her. Everyone but her got cut from the '24' cast this year.

T-minus for the 3rd time

more on this later. Sheesh...

[update/splanaton] It took 3 tries to get the blog name and registration solidified. I made Ruprecht look like a Rhodes Scholar.