Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Feels Like The First Time

While thinking on some inner band dynamic stuff goin on with the group I play in (we just had our first two gigs this month, after 5 months of practicing) it occured to me that the first gig of a band is akin in ways to the first time a couple has sex.

Like any scenario of cherries being popped, once a band (or a couple) go thru that, it changes everything -- People got all worked up beforehand, then in the act made themselves vulnerable, put their pride, ego, talent and ability on the line, then afterwards have all kinds of thoughts about how they performed, how it went over, worrying about what the other(s) thought of it, and then they start ruminating about all kinds of extra petty dramatic stuff afterwards -- An exagerated, hindsight laundry list of how they perceived the act/show really went over.

Suddenly all this personal stuff can come up about who thinks something about it should be more like this or that, who isn't delivering what's needed, who needs to ante up or back off, and most importantly, if this is going to continue, there's a whole bunch of other stuff (never brought up before, but obviously thought of all along) that now needs to be addressed before next time or someone's gonna quit.

Think about that angle the next time you hear a musician say "Oh yeah, bands are like relationships." If you're a musician, remember this after you play your first gig and see what conversations (unlike any had before the first gig) erupt.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Hearing that Green Day's new concert DVD movie is being screened in theaters across the country this week one night, the thought came to me...

Won't it be cool when in another 20 years when the "stolen" home sex video of 2024's "Pam & Tommy"-esque celeb couple will probably be an ad before the movie you go see? Live feeds from hospitals around the world, you can be watching the Gone With The Wind 100 anniversary theater screening and some baby popping out of Madonna's daughter cuts in on widescreen glory. Cuz People and Us Weekly will own and operate anything that recorded or photographed anything, including it's delivery systems. People will own Einstein's light.

People will own Einstein's light.
I think I muttered that passed out and seatbelted in upright in a the backseat of '87 Chevette during a drinking night in high school. While my friends went bowling. No, wait. I muttered "I go Bob Brant college..." That was after I drunkenly sauntered around the McDonal's drivethru lane (next to the bowling alley), to go lay over the back tailfin of a parked car opposite of the drivethru window (and the headset wearing crews watching me.) Then I puked my brains out while they hurriedly shut the order window screaming "Eeewwww!". Yes, I gave them the ol' Caddyshack "Spalding" treatment, like when he puked in the Doctor's Porsche.

After that is when I got secured in the car.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Backpack fulla' Boom

Did you know a kid blew himself up outside a University of Oklahoma football game this past month?

He tried to get in the stadium, but was turned away when he refused to show his backpack contents to the guards. So he went and sat on a bench outside and hit the trigger.

Why wasn't this been around the news?

And we got undercover camera teams getting into nuclear reactors very very easily around the country's universitys.
They sent hot chicks into the nuclear labs on campus and they got all the way to the gold, even took pictures and were left alone next to the reactor allegeldy. But when they started taking pics outside of the library on campus, THEN the campus security came around asked what they were up to.

Excuse me?

[Some friends toldme the bomb story link was asking for registration. Anyway here it is. Just to back myseld up, if you go to dallasnews.com, search on 'Mark Davis, oklahoma' in the search, you'll get the link to this story.]

Mark Davis:
Media might be missing a story and ignoring a terrorist

06:06 PM CDT on Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Imagine a man with a bomb strapped to his body making his way into a packed football stadium, reaching his seat and blowing himself up.

There would be a heavy death toll in what would be the first successful terrorist act on U.S. soil since 9-11.

Jolting us back to memories of the Oklahoma City bombing, this would obviously be a massive headline in our ongoing war on terror. One would think attention would be heightened even further if such a story were to occur again in Oklahoma.

Well, there's reason to believe it nearly happened, and it was indeed in Oklahoma, making the paltry coverage of the story unfathomable.

On Oct. 1, as the Oklahoma Sooners hosted Kansas State in front of 84,000 fans, University of Oklahoma student Joel Hinrichs III blew himself up outside the stadium.

There is evidence that he sought to enter the game and was turned away by security after refusing to allow his backpack to be searched. Some minutes later, that backpack, containing the chosen explosive of shoe bomber Richard Reid and the London subway bombers, exploded, killing Mr. Hinrichs as he sat on a bench.

There have been some dutiful print and broadcast accounts of this event, all leaning heavily on the favored establishment take – that this was a troubled young man who sought only to kill himself, simply doing so in an offbeat way.

Oh, really?

Well, what if the young man had a Pakistani roommate? What if he had been spending time at the Islamic Center of Norman, Okla., once frequented by "20th hijacker" Zacarias Moussaoui? What if the warrant used in the search of the bomber's apartment had been sealed by federal authorities?

What if explosives had been found in that apartment? What if the young man had tried to purchase ammonium nitrate, the chosen explosive of Tim McVeigh, at a Norman feed store days earlier?

That's a lot of what ifs, and they range from the confirmed to the unconfirmed. But the parts we do know – the Pakistani roommate, the attempted fertilizer purchase, the veil of secrecy around the investigation – should be enough to cast doubt on the simplistic "troubled young man" theory favored by, among others, OU's nervous president, David Boren.

Mr. Hinrichs' father told me his son was not the type to join radical causes and would not want to hurt anyone. But his son's chosen method – blowing himself up in a public place – would seem to cast doubt on his concern for his fellow man.

As for the terrorist angle, Mr. Hinrichs is now the subject of understandably intense scrutiny, virtually none of it from the mainstream media. You might think the story fizzled because there was, in fact, no death beyond the bomber. True enough, but I'd suggest that if a raid revealed some radical plan to bomb an abortion clinic anywhere in America, the suspects would be household names by nightfall without a single fuse lit.

Something about the nature of this event has swallowed almost whole the normal curiosity one would expect from the usual sources.

Is it political, because acknowledging a terror threat on our soil might bolster President Bush's war logic? Is it economic, out of fear of scaring people away from football games? Is it geographic snobbery because it didn't happen on either coast? Or is it a PC fear of seeming to lunge toward a jihadist angle?

Whatever the reason, hunting for details of this shocking story puts you in some offbeat company.

Jayna Davis is a writer who has spent years documenting what she asserts is an Islamic connection to the Oklahoma City bombing. She has a fan in Douglas Hagmann, director of an outfit called the Northeastern Intelligence Network, whose Web site (homelandsecurityus.com) has a conspiracy geek vibe that might spark scoffing.

But the fact of the matter is that these people are breaking fresh news on this story that only later winds up in more conventional news outlets.

I'm not calling for a leap to the conclusion that Mr. Hinrichs was another in a series of Caucasians pressed into service by terror cells for their undercover value. But it seems equally unwise to shrug dismissively at the possibility.

The Mark Davis Show is heard weekdays on News/Talk 820 WBAP and nationwide on the ABC Radio Network. WBAP airtime is 9 a.m. to noon. His column appears Wednesdays on Viewpoints, and his e-mail address is mdavis@ wbap.com.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Tuesday, October 11, 2005


A thought occured to me that I been crunching the numbers on the past few days, applying all kinds of scenarios to see what might not apply -

Seems like it's easier to get into something than out of;
Troubles, a parking spot, cats in tree's, problems, relationships, under the sink (more effort not to bonk your head crawling out), debt, the attic, clubs.

I guess getting into a country is harder than getting out. They check for what you might be bringing in. People are like countries. They resist new people coming into their area without a sufficient (psycho-emotional) luggage and security check of their own. Some people who let anyone in over time probably get a lot troublemakers in their 'country'. People who take the time to not let them in so easily see how much attitude, fidgety-ness, or complaining comes as they wait in the security checkpoint. The guards (when doing their job well) react more favorably to people who take the time to consider the guard's job and mindset, so they have their boarding passes out and i.d. ready. Taking the time to understand what they can do to help the check-in go easier and create a sense of mutual respect.

I didn't drive in thinking I'd attempt to connect how people conduct themselves in airport security with how they react to starting a relationship with someone, but hey, that's America. Not sure what aspect of human nature this would correlate too perhaps, but watching people in their 50s react to removing their shoes at the security check (like it's some frighteningly new wrecking ball to their mental architecture) fascinates me. Or when they stand next to signs and hear the attendants screaming it to keep their boarding pass out. Yet they get up to the security check, are asked for the boarding pass, and get all mad and flustered at the guards asking them to go back down 10 leagues into their purse to get the boarding pass.

Make your life easier, wear button shirts with a breast pocket. Put your i.d. and your boarding pass there. Anywhere you need it, you reach in, pull out it out, put it back, move on. We love James Bond being prepared and smooth with all his paperwork and gadgets at the ready. Why don't we make the connection that we can do that too? Our jeans have more pockets that 007's suit for Christ's sake. God knows our lipstick, inhalers, wallets, paperback edition of 'The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People', our Tony Robbins audiobook, and gum is in the outer quick-access pocket of our shoulder bags. We chose to wear comfy loose fitting clothing for sitting in a cramped airplane. Yet 4 YEARS after 9/11, and the hundreds of thousands of flights that have occured since then, people are still gaping at their spouses in annoyed surprised bruised-ego awe as though the guard asked Grandma to pop her top when asked to put her change and keys in the busboy tub, and kick off her shoes. If everyone is so sick of the security checkout point, why then does almost everyone not tweek their own behavior one half ounce's worth to make it go smooth???

Most people have flown at least a few times. Is it so hard to take 8 seconds at your house while packing to 'Desperate Housewives' to remember the flow of operations thru an airport from your last visit, and get prepared accordingly? I guess it is when your TV spews commercials of adult-age empowered brats demanding how they want and demand their bank, coffee, eye-glasses, microwave dinner, hair conditioner, auto financing, and herpes medicine to meet THEIR terms and be THEIR way. And if you wear a scarf, red leggings and some Lisa Loeb glasses, your fashion sense must mean you're serious and deserve coddling cuz you're so hip.

This is the result folks. This is what happens when the screaming kids you saw getting the candy in the checkout lane from a Mom who wouldn't say no grow up to be consultants and branding people in advertising. They intuitively understand that playing to the entitled brat in people will work on them to sell them bad food, meaningless plastic, and shitty loan rates. "Come to our company, we'll be just like the parents who never said no. Well, until our beautiful actors with neon teeth get you in the door. Then our clerks will show you what that translucent disclaimer text at the bottom of the screen at font size -1 said. Oh and, when we run your credit report."

"But the beautiful people told me I could have it my way!"

"Yeah, maybe at Burger King sir. As long as you avoid drive-thru. NEXT!"

But anyway, the boarding pass is paper. (Remember this wave from earlier? :) You can fold it with one hand. That and your drivers license, ya put in your pocket. Easy access in, easy out. Like wearing sweatpants to your girlfriend's/boyfriend's house when you're 16 cuz the parents are gone that night.

But in regards to getting into things easier - maybe because momentum agrees with the Universe. Do even stuntmen ever really get comfortable driving a car backwards? Walking upstream always takes more out of you than walking with the current. Obviously if you need to go up river, against the current, walk along the side of the river, outside of the main flow. Less resistance.

No wonder philosophers and good artists eventually live in and study nature. The answers are right there if one watches the physical and spacial relationships. It's why somebody termed people behavior "Human Nature.

This is an ad for a song sung by a group of dolls from a cartoon I think. These dolls, called 'Bratz' are pre-teen fashion-obsessed girls, dressed like Sorostitutes-in-training who rock it out.

They actually did it. They kept the plastic element (in every aspect)), but got rid of the pesky carbon-unit human elements. It's merchandising without the actual band! Sweet. The label doesn't have to pay for insurance or hotel lodging for 5 real girls. They got the posters, dolls, music singles, videos. No pesky humans! No periods on gig nights, no long distance relationship problems, no royalty checks to the performer, no infighting among the band.

Imagine if you will, some Men-in-Black type walks among bodyguards to the ledge of the Mall's 2nd floor near the top of the escalator. A thousand teen and pre-teen girls are screaming for the Bratz. He removes 6 dolls one by one from a briefcase to the shrieking of the audience. He places them on a table (the stage) and hits the PA to play the song. The Mom's and their daughters start boogie'ing to a fake song that was sung by these inanimate plastic dolls that are "on tour" and came to this Mall, in that town, that day. So that means it's special.

Anyway, I like Yasmin. She comes with the totally awesome latex 'Fuck Me!' training heels that she can wear to Deja Vu when she works her way thru college.

A Ha! Gotcha! Yasmin won't work at the Vu to pay for college cuz DADDY'S GONNA PAY FOR IT. She's just gonna go to the Vu for amateur night on a dare from her boyfriend anyway. What's the big deal, it's only the Vu. It's like, OhmyGod, I've been to Cancun before. And I totally made out with my best friend at Todd Derris's party when the guys rooted us on to do it.

And you know what?
Daddy will pay for it.
He always does, in the end.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Welcome Back Hockey

Seems Slap Shot 3 (completing the trilogy) was filmed with hand held cameras to make it more arty and independent.

Keep watching, when you think the brawl is calming down, it gets more insane.
The New Ice Capades

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Thanks University of Pheonix. The education from you is priceless. I am now fully fluent in all the curse words of the Western Hemisphere after your annoying, relentless, find-anyone-anywhere-regardless-of-the-webpage pop-up ad froze my whole computer here at work.

Obviously your curriculum does not provide classes on Psychology, Effective Work Habits, and Annoying Trends in Marketing. But obviously you do teach a class for Webdesigners on how to code pop-up ads to get around browsers with 'Block Pop-Up Ads' settings.

Do your Culinary classes teach a good Molotov cocktail?
By chance is that offered after the Shotput throwing class?