The ravings of a demented Irishman

George Lucas is a frog-necked bastard

2008-06-03T23:27:00.000-07:00

All right,....

I know it's all fashionable lately to rip on George Lucas but seriously,... I am sick and tired of him destroying my cherished childhood memories by animating their corpses and parading them around with cheap new packaging.

I mean, the new Star wars trilogies were bad enough, but with Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull I think Lucas has successfully completed his descent into madness.

Sitting through that film was the cinematic equivalent of watching a bunch of thugs prison-rape a kitten.

And I was on board at the beginning! After seeing the trailer, I was cautiously optimistic. With signature Spielberg directorial styling that made me remember why he is the greatest shot maker in Hollywood I was willing to forgive the strong scent of cheese coming from it and go all in for another adventure with Ford and company.

I was willing to give Lucas the benefit of the doubt with the insane turn he's taken with the way he handles the characters he's created.

I didn't care that Harrison Ford was almost sixty. He still looked damn good and as long as he was wearing that fedora, carrying the bullwhip and brandishing that .45 caliber six shooter I was gonna follow him into Hell.

Then I saw it.

I don't know what was worse,...the shitty dialogue, the painful green-screen shots or the fact that he dusted off the Close Encounters alien for a cameo at the end.

But it was a great learning experience.

I learned that Shai Lebouf can control monkeys and swing on vines like Tarzan, (take that Glen Keane).
I learned that Russians are Nazis in brown uniforms.
I learned that the Ark of the Covenant is in Area 51.
I learned that refrigerators can not only keep your eggs fresh and your milk cold, but if you hide in them, instead of suffocating, you can avoid a nuclear blast and fly!
I learned that Karen Allen is just happy to be there even when she's in mortal danger.
I learned that two Mexican jumping ninjas guard every Mayan, (or whatever jungle civilization it was), temple.
I learned that crystal skulls deter giant killer ants better than Raid.
I learned that Mayan Indian assassins have their friends spackle them into stone walls to wait for intruders, (how do they pee?).
I learned that when you gain ultimate knowledge, your eyes catch fire and you die.

But most of all, I learned that George Lucas is a dumb turd.

If those God-awful Mummy movies were a cheap imitation of the Indy movies, this latest Indy movie was a cheap imitation of the Mummy movies.

I don't know why I'm surprised. There have been glimpses of the madness of king George for years. There was The Star Wars holiday special, ("Don't worry Chewie! We'll get you home for life day!"), and Howard the Duck.

Once George got unlimited power where no one could tell him no, we got The Ewoks, Jabba's Muppet palace and that f**king Jar-Jar Binx, not to mention that happy, blonde, bowl-cut haired kid who played baby Anikin, screaming "yippee" every ten minutes and easily the happiest slave I've ever seen.

The truth of the matter is, George Lucas is a demented Producer, an abysmal director and a person completely uncontaminated by talent. He is however, without a doubt, two things for sure.

He is lucky,...

and he is a great businessman.

And now he has so much power and autonomy that even Harrison Ford and Steven Spielberg have to swallow his shit just to have fun making movies.

But where is my argument? At present time, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull has grossed nearly half a billion dollars in just two weeks.

And with numbers like that, you can be assured we will be seeing another Indy movie soon enough and I'm sure they're fast at work on the next script.

Perhaps the title will be, Indiana Jones and the ass-hat who doesn't know how to write for the characters he created.

Here's an idea, George,....why don't you go down to that government warehouse, drag the Ark out of that crate it was sealed in, pop the top, and take a good long look inside.

Maybe it'll clear your head.

My contribution to Christmas

2007-11-17T12:30:00.001-08:00

It is with no small amount of satisfaction that I write this.

I say this because, as a child, there was no greater joy than watching Christmas specials.

It was always an event. I would sit down in front of the television and wait for that "Special" teaser to swirl around the screen as the bumper music played, and shortly thereafter, the opening credits of whatever Christmas special I was waiting for would begin,...signifying thirty minutes, (or in some cases a whole HOUR), of yuletide bliss and enraptured joy.

Whether it was the soulful soothing jazz of Vince Gauraldi, (which enamors me to this very day), in the Charlie Brown Christmas, the balladeering warble of Burl Ives in Rankin/Bass's Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, or the thundering rumbling bass of the mighty Thurl Ravenscroft as he admonished, "You're a mean one,....Mister Grinch", (not to mention snow mizer and heat mizer), it was nothing but magic from Thanksgiving weekend until December 25th.

So being a part of something that maintains and adds to the tradition I hold so dear to my own heart is a great Christmas gift in itself,...quite possibly the greatest one I've ever been given.

So check your local times and listings with your local ABC affiliates on November 28th because my Christmas special will be on TV!

After a loooooong and sometimes weary road, and what seemed like an endless gauntlet of opinionated higher ups, my buddy Gary and I, (along with a staff un-matched in talent), were fortunate enough to complete the project Shrek the Halls for Dreamworks and ABC/Disney.

Gary Trousdale, (director of Beauty and the Beast and Hunchback of Notre Dame fame), directed this half hour special and I was head of story on this aka a sort of second in command.

Gary and I also wrote it and got "screenplay by" credit.

The special is about Shrek trying to craft a perfect first Christmas for his new family without letting them know he's never done it before. Everything goes smoothly until, in typical holiday fashion, Donkey shows up with the rest of the "family" to wreak havoc with Shrek's Christmas vision.

ABC has acquired the rights to air it for the next fifteen years and so, up there my work will sit, along with the other Christmas holiday greats like How the Grinch Stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Rudolph and Frosty.

And while I may not feel worthy to sit among these classic giants, I certainly am honored to.

To think that some little kid may sit down this November 28th in that great anticipatory haze as he waits for a Christmas special that I helped craft fills me with almost as much warmth as watching those specials myself.

So Merry Christmas to all,...and to all, (as Shrek would say), a GROSS night!

F**king retard

2007-09-26T00:42:00.000-07:00

Been a while.

For the three of you that read this blog, I apologize.

This little news item makes me crazy. Stuff like this seriously drives me bug-shit.

Those of you who know me are aware that I am an artist. I draw and write for a living and I draw, write, sculpt, and do molding/casting/woodworking as a hobby.

In fact, from the age of three on up, I've worked with about every medium known to man from oils to egg tempera, from pencils to pastels.

Long story short, an art teacher was fired from a school, here's the link if you wanna read it and get angry right along with me.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-vegan_25sep25,1,1437189.story?ctrack=1&cset=true

Now, it's not what you think,... normally you would assume it was some callous, ignorant school administration who would rather fund the neanderthals on whatever team du' jour passes for athletes at their school and who were just laying in wait for the art instructor to show the kids the statue of David complete with flaccid penis so they could use it as an excuse to shitcan them and buy more,.....balls.

But this time, ladies and lads, it was the art teachers fault. Yes that's what I said. The ART teachers fault.

Short story long,....the teacher, who has recently, (as recently as JANUARY), been reborn as a zealot vegan has been using his class as a recruiting platform for his militant vegetarian views as well as the ever-so-fashionable "animal rights" agenda.

Now, not only did he evade the questioning of school officials as well as admonish the kids NOT to tell their parents about the curriculum shift, but he also said he wouldn't return to the classroom unless Fox River Grove Middle School served only lunches free of animal products

he was quoted as saying, "You are ruining my world and eating my friends,"

What,.....an asshole.

Are you kidding me? The kind of judgement this man displays makes me ecstatic that his services have been dispensed of.

Let's get something straight, captain activism....if you are an art teacher, you are there to teach ART!

ART, YOU TUMBLING NIMROD!

You are there to show them Da vinci, John Singleton Copley, and Weyeth! Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael and all the rest of the turtles who painted!
They should experience the beauty of The Mona Lisa or Watson and the shark or The Daughters of E.D. Boit

Not the latest "fur is murder" campaign! Seriously,...we art teacher types have it bad enough as it is! They all think we're loopy and not quite right. They use words like odd and "eclectic" and "quirky" with the same tone of voice they use when saying words like crazy and weird or maybe even creepy.

The muggles don't know what type of importance to assign to us and they have no mental faculties to assign a fair value to it, yet more often than not, they are the ones in charge.

We art-types spend a lot of time alone, covered in paint, lost in music, and deep in the throes wielding an intangible power a 10th of the population cannot understand and another 30th don't give a shit about. And we art-types teach poetry, art and music to their kids.
We're already starting off under a suspicious eye and then shit like this goes and happens.

So thank you, Mr. fashionably Vegan, recently re-born, animal activist, fruit and salad zealot. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for perpetuating the stereotype.

And after this whole miserable bollocks, the animal rights groups have to pipe in and let us know that His efforts gained praise from them.

Oh good. Because they're fantastic folks too.

Interesting reading...

http://www.rajuabju.com/literature/peta.htm

And as for this Warwak guy,....I'd like to smack him repeatedly in the face with a porterhouse steak while I dance around him in circles, kicking him and singing Russian peasant revolt songs.

Sound like some bizarre assault? A nasty pre-meditated attack on a fellow artist?

I just call it performance art.

They're coming,....to transform my summer.

2007-05-21T00:26:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it.

I caved. I tried to hold out as long as I could. I said all the right things that a film-educated artisan of the movie industry was supposed to say. Michael Bay will just glitz it up,...it'll be all frosting and no cake, the dialogue will be trite and schmaltzy, the "humor" will be weak,...the designs are largely preposterous, Bumblebee is not a classic VW Beetle, what the f**k is up with Megatron? Why isn't he a gun? Or at the very least, a plasma cannon or something?

But then,......then I saw the new trailer,....and it had more shots of the robots, like Starscream transforming in mid-air and stomping onto a pile of cars.....and I got an eye twitch.

And then Bumblebee transformed and stood up into scene and my eyebrows, (well, eyebrow, really), went straight up, and finally,....Optimus Prime showed up and as he transformed from eighteen wheeler to battle robot mode, they hooked every one of the little boys residing inside the men watching this trailer in that theatre right in our hearts.

Because when Prime transformed,.....he made,..."the sound".

The SOUND.

And by sound I mean the one I don't have to explain to the fans out there but for the un-initiated, it's that glorious richly modulated series of ratchetings and clickings that accompanies an Autobot or a Decepticon when they're doing their thing.

It's a call to battle, a warning bell, and an "I am coming to kick the energon out of your tailpipe" all rolled into one!

The Choo-choo-chaaah-chaaah-choo! sound that accompanied any one of us with a Jazz or Wheeljack or soundwave in our hands as we desperately rushed to finish transforming the thing before we stopped making the sound.

With that one sound, it told me that Michael Bay knows everything he needs to know about making this film a hit. He's putting in all the little things that he knows are so big to our generation exactly where they should be and he knows what they are and when to hit you with em'.

That's why when I saw that,.....the little twelve year old me came shuffling in, right shoe untied and with a box of Lemonheads in his back pocket, and he kicked that cinematic soapbox right out from under me.

I came crashing to the ground and landed painfully on my shoulder but before I could pick myself up or regain composure, he grabbed me by the ears and simply said, "Opening day, July fourth." (except fourth sounded like fawth because the twelve year old me still has a Lynn/Boston accent), and he wandered off to make Megatron out of Legos.

So, my wiser me has shown me the light and apparently I have resigned myself to going to see this movie and loving every minute of it,....warts and all.

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings"-Optimus Prime; leader of the Autobots. :)

V for Vendetta is the best movie ever.

2007-04-21T23:20:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

I adore this movie. V for Vendetta, based on the eighties graphic novel written by Alan Moore and illustrated primarily by David Lloyd is a post apocalyptic dystopian view of London after a huge global war has ravaged the planet and given rise to a facist government.

The movie, while in this bloggers opinion is only a minor departure from the graphic novel, does not set well with Englishman Moore, as he believes that the film has twisted his premise to be a not-so-subtle reflection of the Bush administration.

Indeed it has, but it still works and serves it's purpose shockingly well. The parallels between this story and what is currently manifesting in this country will chill your blood and serve, through new the opiate of the masses known as entertainment, (or edutainment, if you prefer), to open the viewer's eyes to the creeping hand of facism all around them.

From the government engineering a crisis in order to enable a conservative leader, convinced he's doing God's work and with no regard for political process, to take control, to the various scenes of the populace being spied on, and to boot, a very Cheney-like VP named "Creedy", the horrifyingly clear picture of what this country could become is crystal clear.

Throw in a host of brilliant performances, including the ever stunningly beautiful Natalie portman as Evey Hammond, Hugo Weaving as the Fawlksian "V" behind the mask and the maniacally brilliant John Hurt as High Chancellor Adam Sutler and you've got ninety minutes of entertainment whose message may just keep you up at night after you see it.

But most assuredley you will find yourself, as this voracious and vocal veteran of the venal vein of volitile cinema does, quoting fondly in rememberance of Guy Fawlkes,.....

Remember, remember the fifth of November,

The gunpowder treason and plot.

I know of no reason the gunpowder treason,

should ever be forgot.

V for Vendetta is a must see.

Oh look! It's a media witch-hunt!

2007-04-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

It's been a while,....

Been busy with work, so for the four or five of you who actually read this journal, I apologize, and I appreciate you checking back here from time to time.

I fully intend to be more active with this thing in the second quarter of this year we call 2007.

So,....Imus.

Imus, Imus, Imus,......cowboy hat-wearing, seven hundred year old Don Imus.

I am NOT a fan of Don Imus. I am a life-long Stern fan.

And being a Stern fan, I am well aware of Imus's horseshit over the years, but that being said,....

The recent firing of the low-level "shock jock" is complete bullshit.

In the same world where Limbaugh can call Obabma a "halfrican-American", where Hannity and Colmes can spew their hate-speech, where noted trans-sexual succubus Ann Coulter can call a Democratic presidential candidate a "faggot", do you mean to tell me that Imus, goofing off like a frat-boy and calling a few women on a basketball team "nappy headed ho's" is worth firing the guy?

Fire Imus cause he's not funny.

Fire Imus because his ratings are down.

Fire Imus because he is too Goddam old to still be in broadcasting but DON'T fire him by standing on some hypocritical moral high ground when scads of other broadcaters around him continue to say far more offensive things and MEAN it, to boot.

And, (here I go,...I'm gonna say it), why on God's green Earth is ANYONE subserviant to a hate-monger like Al Sharpton? Can you tell me that? Any time someone make anything close to what someone considers an "anti-black" statement, Al Sharpton and that mush-mouthed dipshit Jesse jackson come out of the woodwork calling for firings and retribution.

Let me remind those out there that may have short memories that this is the same Jesse Jackson that referred to New York as "Heimie, (Hymie?) town".

Yet despite his anti-semetic statement, he was allowed to apologize and it was waved away because allegedly he, "made that remark in private".

Oh! I SEE! It's okay to be a blathering racist in PRIVATE.

Horseshit. Complete and utter horseshit. I do not like Imus or his show but I know a sacrificial lamb when I see it. I don't know WHAT he's being sacrificed for,.....but I know it's a Witch-hunt.

The double standard continues!

There is a God!

2007-02-13T13:42:00.000-08:00

The Police announce a reunion tour.

http://www.antimusic.com/news/07/feb/1303.shtml

Quite possibly the best band of the eighties and certainly my favorite from that decade

Sting, Stuart Copeland and Andy Summers.

I'm kicking myself that I missed their performance at the Grammy, (which I didn't even know was on), awards.

I dunno why,.....by this point in my life I should be way past getting excited about stuff like this,...with mortgage, career, adult crap, etc.

But my enthusiastic inner sixteen year-old is doing cartwheels. I may just have to grab my best friends from high school and check out one of the concerts.

In a music world populated by the likes of that celebutard K-Fed, getting a shot of The Police is like finding an oasis in the Gobi desert.

Holy sh*t

2007-01-20T22:29:00.000-08:00

I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard at something.

These guys are my new favorite humans.

Pure and utter genius.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=IN62wqBdbxA

It snowed here this morning.

2007-01-17T10:01:00.000-08:00

Well,....I know it goes without saying but still,.....to say the climate is changing and that weather patterns have been erratic is an understatement. They had snow in Melbourne Australia, it was 65 degrees in Boston over Christmas and here in Sunny California we've had high temps in the low sixties and lows reaching the twenties.

For the past three days, as I stepped outside into the chill to take my daily walk, (a nice 2.5 mile route I've mapped out), I've ancountered huge patches of ice, frozen lawns and frost on car windows.

That's right. I came out to my car and there was frost on the windshield.

All I could do was stand there in dis-belief for a second as I thought to myself, "I don't even OWN an ice scraper anymore."

As a born-and-raised Bostonian you'd think I would be used to such things but after twelve-ish years here in Southern California, I assure you, it's a rarity.

The other day I was informed that the wax froze in the bins at the local carwash as well as a few of the intake pipes for my condo complex, depriving several units of water pressure until late in the day.

As common as these things have become lately, it was still with no small amount of surprise that I found myself in the middle of a damn respectable snow squall this morning.

Upon preparing to go out for my walk, I did the usual routine. I threw my shoes on, fired up the iPod and set the coffee pot for brewing, (so it's ready when I get back), and as I got to the door, spied a dark and steel-grey horizon, filled with melencholy storm clouds, (had it been summer, I would have suspected a good old fashioned thunder storm was a'-brewin).

As I threw the door open, the cold hit me as if I had dived head first into a freezing lake. It was a bitter cold,...chilling, and intrusive, the kind that takes joy in finding any bare spot of flesh or opening in your clothes as it seeps under with forceful insistance.

Memories of dark mornings and freezing nights in Boston suddenly welled up in my head and the voice of my old East Coast sense memory whispered,.... feels like snow.

Dismissing the thought as quickly as it came, I started out. I was about fifteen minutes in when the freezing hail started. As the tiny stones came down in a deluge, it created a steady, comforting rhythm as it rattled off of the ground and the trees.

Kind of like when you lie in bed listening to a rainstorm as it patters against the roof of the house while you slumber safe in the warmth of the covers.

Before I knew it, that great stillness crept over everything. The sort of pregnat pause that seems to be the forebearer of snow and as I stopped and looked around, I noticed I couldn't hear the bounce of the hailstones anymore, yet the downpour continued as silent and as elegant as a Currier and Ives print.

It was snowing.

Oddly enough, the entire neighborhood seemed to become completely deserted at that point. Perhaps everybody stopped what they were doing, looked up and became lost in the snow for a while as it continued with it's peaceful display, blanketing the rooftops and trees.

It continued for the remainder of the walk, and by the time I reached home, the familiar sound of snow crunching under my shoes could be heard with every step I took.

As often happens though, the snow soon turned to rain and by the time I could get my camera out, there was precious little left to be seen.

Though it was a beautiful and amazing thing to behold, and I am so glad I was outside in the thick of it when it happened, I am still left feeling oddly disconcerted. There's a lot of change happening across the globe climate-wise and I cannot help but feel this modest little snowstorm was a harbinger of bigger changes to come this year and beyond.

Winters are coming later in the year, Springs and Autumns are getting shorter and summers seem to brutally linger until October. With scientists predicting that 2007 is going to be the hottest year on record, I must admit, I'm fearful of what may lie ahead.

But for today, I simply enjoyed the snow.

Which is as it should be.

Merry Christmas everyone!

2006-12-16T22:18:00.000-08:00

Yes I said it!

The dreaded ever-so-politically-incorrect-phrase.

None of this "happy festivus" crap.

I'm taking back the holiday and saying "Merry Christmas" this year and whether you believe in "the reason for the season" or not, I think we can all agree that anything that calls for peace, goodwill, and cheer is a welcome end to this year,.....or any year for that matter.

So,....Merry Christmas to all of you.

And a ver happy new year!

Ever have one of those moments where you nearly black out from laughing?

2006-11-22T13:26:00.000-08:00

This is, without a doubt, one of the greatest by-lines for a "news" article I've ever read.

From IMDB,...

Hilton Vomits While Attempting To Sing Own Song

Paris Hiton shocked revelers at a Las Vegas nightclub when she got up to perform but ended up vomiting on stage instead. Singer Joshua Radin was among the guests who went to a nightclub to hear rapper Shawn 'Jay-Z' Carter perform and found himself sitting next to the socialite-turned-singer. Radin writes on his MySpace page, "Paris Hilton was sitting next to me the whole night. Seriously, next to me, like our legs were touching for a good five hours. Now don't get the wrong idea. She never once said hello, nor even looked in my direction. Five hours. And it was unreal to watch. She must have pulled a compact out of her bag every six minutes to stare at herself and pose while Jay-Z was performing eighteen inches from us." Radin writes that when Jay-Z left the stage, "Paris, who had been swilling straight vodka from (a) Grey Goose bottle for hours, gets up on stage, has the people in charge throw her 'record' on the house stereo for her to lip sync two of her songs. She gets up on the stage, pukes, leaves..." Radin adds, "I find the music business charming."

That's so brilliant I have no words to express it.

Paris and I have one thing in common though, I vomited when I heard the song.

Ah, the life of a glamorous heiress to a hotel fortune.

So long f**kers! Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!

2006-11-08T10:31:00.000-08:00

The above image, for those who may not know, is the classical painting The expulsion from the garden of Eden by Thomas Cole.

Those are the Republicans today.

In an unprecedented turnout, the population turned out in force so strong that even the Diebold voting machines couldn't cheat their voices into silence.

Well Hello there America! Where ya been? We missed you like Hell! Welcome back!

I can't believe it.

If I'm dreaming I don't wanna wake up.

I had lost such confidence in the way this country was being run and the corruption was so blatant, rampant and shameless that I had no hope for us ever achieving balance.

Yet here I sit,.....on Wednesday, November 8th and looking at the numbers

The Democrats have taken the house,.....we are waiting with baited breath for Virginians to do the right thing, throw out that psychotic bully rethuglican George Allen and then we'll take the senate as well,.....for the first time in recent history NO Democrats lost seats, they only gained them. Every one already being held by Dems retained their positions.

We have an overwhelming majority of Democratic governors in every state,...

And Donald useless-as-henshit-on-a-pump-handle Rumsfeld just resigned.

Bye-bye Rumsferateau! You can run f**ker but you can't hide. Tell ya what,....we'll be sporting and give you a head start but we'll catch up later.

I am completely speechless. Even my wildest yearnings for the outcome of this election didn't come close to this.

Can you say subpoena power? Accountability? Oversight? Dare I say,.....impeachment?

Now that the Dems have power they better damn well use it and not balls it up.

No more running mad with power there, King George. The American public has voted your ideals off the island. You should have stayed in your momma's belly,...marinating in the liberal mixture of amneotic fluid and vodka like a little jug-eared cocktail onion.

Popping up some Orville Redenbacher, sitting back, and I'm watching the show.

And dear God and all the angels, sanits and my relatives in Heaven, thank you.

Because it is indeed, gonna be one Hell of a show!

Hold onto your hats!

2006-11-07T11:00:00.000-08:00

It's gonna be an interesting night.

I hope to God we get a change today.

If not,....either the thievery of this democratic country is truly complete or America is full of an astonishing amount of retards.

.......biting my nails and waiting,.....

Happy Halloween everybody!

2006-10-31T11:15:00.000-08:00

Sadly,....

I have zero in the way of celebration going on this year, which for me, is a huge travesty.

Unfortunately work has once again gotten in the way of anything and to be truthful, I'm just not in the mood this year so I'm just gonna sit this one out.

On November first, however, I'm going to adopt a play from the Jack Skellington playbook and loudly proclaim, "Only 364 days left until NEXT Halloween", as I break out the glue gun and start working towards next October 31st.

So then, the best I can offer you is this very "Halloweenish" picture of my cat!

Rush continues to stink like a sack of shit in the heat of a Georgia summer

2006-10-26T12:46:00.000-07:00

Here he is in a clip making fun of Michael J. Fox.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F05T9cU8hxQ

Bloated sack of crap.

And Fox responded in such a classy manner it makes me love him even more.
He said in a press conference that he undertood that it was hard for people without the disease to fathom what it's effects are and medication or no, he said, "You get what you get on any given day".

God bless you Michael J. Fox. In fact, you are no longer Michael J. Fox anymore,....I claim you are Saint McFly and the world adores you.

The backlash on Limbaugh is so fierce from both sides it's actually rocking his titanic ass back and forth like a buoy in a hurricaine and his back-handed apology is only making it worse.

So because of this,... I reverse my decision on what I said earlier about Rush talking about Fox.

Attack him, accuse him, apologize,...whatever, because the more you open your fat cigar-chomping mouth, issuing forth a waft of breath that smells like egg-salad strained through a gym sock, to accompany your poisoned words,....the worse it gets for you and your masters.

Gallumph on, great gallumpher!

And in honor of Rush,....a little ditty I whipped up just for him.

Ode to Rush!

(Sung to the opening theme from Gilligan's Island).

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a tubby shit.
That blustered on his morning show, devoid of class and wit.
He spun a lie about a man of kindness, poise and class.
The public soon got wind of it and handed him his ass.
His big chubby ass.

(Thunder sound effects)

The backlash started getting rough,
His supporters they did run.
Despite his lame apology,
The damage had been done.
The damge had been done.

Though Rush is slime, what's so sublime is the moral of this tale.

The more he speaks,...

The worse it gets.

For Repubicans,...

For their shills.

For Neo-cons!

So as mid-terms come round the bend,...Let's bring this crap to an end!

(Crazy 60's trumpet ending)!

Whaddaya want? I'm on lunchbreak! :)

Oh yeah,....Rush, again, go fuck yourself.

You are a pile of suck.

Dear God in Heaven I despise Rush Limbaugh

2006-10-24T11:57:00.000-07:00

Not that I needed an extra reason to hate that fat bag of Hilbilly-Heroin-quaffing Republican propoganda spewing crap known by his faux-human name as Rush Limbaugh but today I think my disgust went right over the line into loathing,....nay, hatred.

One of my favorite actors in the world is Michael J. Fox. I love the guy. I just do.

He's a very classy, appealing and, dare I say it, All American lad, (even though he's from Canada), who first endeared himself to audiences as, (Oh irony of ironies), the stalwart young Republican Alex P. Keaton on Family Ties and solidified himself in the hearts of the eighties generation as Marty McFly in the Back to the Future trilogy.

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past ten years, you know that Fox is suffering from a debilitating bout of Parkinson's disease that has made his acting career, at best, sporadic.

Fox just did a campaign commercial for Democratic Senator Claire McCaskill of Missouri supporting her stand on stem cell research and it's promise for treating such diseases as,...you guessed it, Parkinson's disease.

Her Republican opponent is, of course, against it.

So Fox does this heartfelt commercial, putting himself out ther in all his vaulnerability, gyrating and twisting in front of the camera as he attempts to read the copy, (and breaking my heart in the process), and who gets a hold of it, but Rush Limbaugh.

After seeing the commercial, he opined on his radio show today that Fox was,....wait for it,....

Faking it.

Yep. He was "exaggerating" his shaking. Because he's a Democratic shill, (says the GOP puppet).

I heard a clip of it on The Howard Stern Show today and damn near fell off my chair.

Y'know what?

I hope when Rush finally gets to Hell alongside the masters he serves he is treated to the smell of his own fat cooking like bacon as Beelzebub pokes him with his pitchfork to see if the little piggy is tender yet.

I know Freud says sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but we'll make an exception in your case, Rush.

Go fuck yourself.

Wanna see if Michael J. Fox is faking?

Judge for yourself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9WB_PXjTBo

I hope they find a cure in Fox's lifetime. I love that guy.

YAAAAAYYY!!!! IT'S HALLOWEEN SEASON!

2006-10-15T15:53:00.000-07:00

Halloween is my favorite holiday.

Bar none, hands down, no questions asked.

Maybe it calls to my Celtic blood,....speaking to the druid in me who held sacred Samhain rituals under a swollen harvest moon back in ancient Ireland.

Or perhaps my body and soul recognizes that I am a year older during this season.

But most of all, it's memory of a time most cherished.

A time when the nights are growing longer, chasing the daylight off another extra minute at a time each day as the brilliant sunsets adorn the sky like God's canvas.

It's the harvest time,....rife with cornstalks and pumpkins and little craft-store scarecrows on people's lawns that compliment the Thanksgiving decorations in the windows, along with perhaps a turkey traced from a child's hand-print as they worked feverishly in their pre-school art class.

The leaves have turned a brilliant yellow, orange and red and as the sun hits them in the crisp air of each afternoon, the seem as if on fire. A magic, dynamic fire that somehow doesn't consume the leaves, but compliments them as they spend their last days performing their technicolor ballet as the wind hustles them back and forth, whispering a bittersweet farewell to summer.

And when the leaves do fall, they provide a noisy carpet for children as they shuffle through the great piles of them, plastic jack-o-lanterns in hand as they hopefully scamper from door to door with the ever sweet promise of candy and treats driving them onward into the night.

The bright doorways of the houses seem to provide a momentary shield against the advancing chill and as the children's joyfull shrieks of glee and terror drift through the chilly October night you know that the most sacred and profane of holidays has come round yet again.

It is Halloween.

And in honnor of my forovite-est of favorite holidays, I would love to share some fun film faves to add a perfect cherry to your creepy holiday sundae!

These are the ones that stand out as the perfect blend of all things Halloween for even the most discerning of movie afficionados,.....by which I mean me. :)

Okay! Here goes!

First up,.....The Addams Family

Starring Raoul Julia, Anjelica Houston and Christopher Lloyd!
Elder brother Fester Addams returns from twenty plus missing years in the Bermuda Triangle and while the family is thrilled to see him, is it really uncle Fester?
The movie is fun, whimsical, brilliantly cast and completely entertaining. Don't make the mistake of looking for some deep, intiguing story here. It's cartoony and although you see the vaudeville-style jokes coming from a mile away, you still laugh. The movie's great fun.

Next up: Addams Family Values

One of the few instances in which the sequel is arguably better than the original. Gomez and Morticia give birth to a new baby! While baby Pubert is a welcome bundle to the rest of the family, Wednesday and Pugsley naturally begin to feel threatened.
After "acting out" in their own homicidal way, The Addams' decide to hire a nanny, a Black Widow killer in disguise with designs on Fester and played maniacally by Joan Cusak in one of her greatest screen roles to date.
While Cusak's character plots to relieve Fester of his family, his fortune and his life, she also succeeds in having Wednesday and Pugsley sent to "summer camp" where an amusing side story, spoofing over-privileged irritating children's camp and a class-war develops.

It also features one of the most brilliant pieces of non-verbal acting I've ever seen, wherein Wednesday, in an attempt to fool her idiot camp-mates struggles against every natural instinct she has as she tries to produce a vacant "happy child" smile.

Considering Ricci was only 13 at the time makes it especially brilliant. That little chick definately had a hold on something darker and that's why she's so brilliant as Wednesday.

Next up on the list,.....Hocus Pocus

Starring Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kathy Najimy.
This movie is stupid fun. Plain, un-apologetic and unadulterated, stupid fun.

The trio plays the fictional witches The Sanderson Sisters who return to wreak havoc on the little children of Salem on Halloween, after a virgin lights the black flame candle, summoning them back from the dead.

There's a talking black cat, who's really an immortal puritan boy in disguse, and who helps the kids vanquish the sisters in order to avenge his sister's death from way back in the 1700's.

There's a pre American Beauty Thora Birtch as the precocious little girl and even a cameo by Frank and Penny Marshall!

.....the exteriors were filmed almost entirely in Salem, Ma. and the surrounding areas so it's got that authentic New England Halloween look to it!
That means it's A-OK!

There's a lot of cute stuff in this and Bette Midler's fake buck teeth ALMOST accommodate the amount of scenery she chews. This one is definately worth a look!

Next up,....Casper

Yeah, I know, I know, but I stand by it. This live-action adaptation of the Harvey comic is surprisingly tender and poigniant in a lot of places.

Starring Christina Ricci, Bill Pullman and Eric idle. Ricci and Pullman play a father daughter team who are hired to "exercise" Whipstaff manor so the inheritors can plunder it for it's "hidden treasure". The sets are fantastic the score is haunting and the early computer animation is an example of how much the talented artists of the time could push the envelope with limited resources.

One of the most surprising turns in the film is where Casper relates to Ricci the story of how he died as a child,.....something that doesn't generally occurr to people when they think of Casper but he is, after all, a kid.
Unless, like the Tin-man, you have no heart, it's gonna bring a tear to your eye.

An admittedley "gimmicky" angle, (in addition to them going for the Addams theme with Ricci and the gothic house), is the suprisingly effective use of several cameos of various stars which include Clint Eastwood, Rodney Dangerfield, Father Guido Sarducci and my favorite,.....Danny Aykroyd as Ray Stantz from Ghostbusters.

That gives it an A+ in my book,....but then,....When it comes to nostalic cinematic icons,...I can be easily bought.

Last up on the kooky/cute film list is Practical Magic!

Starring Sandra Bullock, Nicole Kidman, Stockard Channing and Dianne Weist.

Three generations of witches live in a bitchin' ocean-side Victorian house on the Washington coast as they attempt to live down the family curse which dooms the women of their family to never be happy in love.

It's good old fashioned estrogen-y fun and I revel in every frame of this lavishly shot film. Kidman plays the bad sister in a bad relationship and as Bullock's good sister comes to her aid they experience certain complications, (perhaps acidentally killing the boyfriend), and as their maiden aunts, (played by Weist and Channing), leave them to clean up their own mess, Bullock finds that she just may find true love after all with the cop who's investigating the dead boyfriend's murder.

Especially endearing is the "Midnight Margaritas" scene.

There's the list! Now,....don't let the outward appearances of these semmingly "kiddie" films fool you. There is some truly DARK shit going on in a lot of places in all of these films, (except the Addams series).

Casper basically comes around to a dead child falling in love with a live one, in Practical Magic, Kidman and Bullock kill a man and try to cover it up, almost destroying their family in the process and in Hocus Pocus, Sarah Jessica Parker displays some not-so-subtle pedophilic tendancies towards young men as the three sisters pretty much attempt to kill all the children of Salem,....a fact that even the Disney publicity machine can't really spin.

But then again, there's no need for any spin or apology, is there? After all, one cannot have resolution without conflict and further more a soultion is only as satisfying as it's problem!

So,.....there it is! I recommend all of these to you! Go rent one of em,...or all of em', have some friends over, have some midnight margarits yourself as you pass out candy to the little sugar-filled cretins on the 31st!

But most of all,....have a happy, HAPPY, Halloween!

North Korea launches a NUKE! YAAAAAAYY!!!!!

2006-10-09T10:23:00.000-07:00

Well,...

Hold onto your collective asses.

Kim Jong-il is no longer just a funny puppet in the movie Team America: World Police,....he's officially dangerous.

This should be interesting. I wonder how the world community will respond. I guarantee you one thing,....I bet it was a conversation stopper that drew a collective, "They did WHAT!?", from the table.

Keep in mind that this is the same North Korea that launched an ICBM that they apparently found in Alaska.

Quietly proving that although it was a dead shell,....they could reach us. There are also rumors that their "delivery systems" are now capable of reaching the West Coast!

Not that I don't have anything but faith in Kim Jong-il's humanitarian skills but if this blog entry suddenly stops in the middle of me writing it then you'll know what hap-

Little daily update! Your "Gubbament" at work

2006-10-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

I said yesterday, given what we'd learned yesterday, who knows what we'll know today?

Well here's what we know in a nutshell,....

The conservatives have retreated back to their fallback positions and are blaming homosexuality for Foley's indiscretion,....not the fact that he's a pedophilia. Well done, dipshits!

How does that account for the mile-long list of demons in the administration who've been tagged for molesting females?

Nice try,....you know what, Jesus talks to me too and he thinks you're all assholes.

He told me this over hotwings and beer at the Burbank Hooters.

Foley at first claimed that it was alcohol that made him do it,....and now he's been molested by a priest. Yawn,...what's tomorrow's excuse? BTW,...most victims of clergy molested tend to retreat from contact, not stalk young boys for it. This seems to me to be a real insult to people who have legitimately experienced this.

The Republicans are turning on eachother like a pack of hyenas on a monkey carcass, we've discovered that the congress may have known about Foley's dalliances for up to eleven years, and Fox news in Florida keeps "accidentally" branding Foley as a Democrat whenever they run a news story about him.

Deep breath,.......exhale.

Whuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I'm in a safe place, I'm in a circle of light, I am an eternal soul and love and safety surrounds me, OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

And for a little bonus,.....Darth Cheney had the secret service arrest a man in a mall for criticizing his Iraq policy.

http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/local/article/0,1299,DRMN_15_5039230,00.html

Hold on to you hats folks,....it's only gonna get kookier!

The Republicans never fail to repulse me or: Matt Drudge is a f**king douche-bag.

2006-10-03T14:46:00.000-07:00

Well, well well,.....

On the eve of the mid-term elections the Republicans are scrambling around in classic fashion trying to bolster their numbers before the November vote.

Bush continues in his crimes against grammar in each and every speech, though there's supposedly still "an energy crisis", gas prices have miraculously dropped,...and right before the elections! Good thing there's nothing fishy about that, right?

But despite all their intentions and efforts,....karma,...blessed maybe-finally-restoring-some-balance karma, drops a scandal of Herculean proportions into their laps in the form of Mark Foley, Congressman extrordianaire from Florida.

For those of you who may not know,.....Marky-boy has been stalking underage male congressional pages, (anywhere from the ages of 15-17 YIPPEEEE!!!!), for the past five years, and soliciting them for some clean, manly fun via IMs and E-mails which were leaked to the press this past week!

Apparently,...it was such a well known problem that incoming pages were informed by outgoing ones, (as well as others), to avoid Foley because he was, "too friendly".

And here's the big thing, oh irony of ironies,....Foley was, (at one time and may have been still, I'm not sure), the chairman of the House Caucus on Missing and Exploited Children!

That's right ladies and germs! Let the vampire run the bloodbank! The sweets addict run a See's Candies and the hopeless alcoholic work as a taste-tester in the Duff beef factory!

Didn't you know it's backwards day!? Left is right! Up is down and wrong is most definitely right! It's like Dr. Seuss on meth.

Speaker of the House "Denny" Hastert is doing an Astaire-worthy tap dance for the press as he attempts to distance himself, "Uhhh,...I just found out about it when it was leaked,...no wait,...I may have known a year ago,....no wait,...maybe it was five years ago,....I'm sorry, what was I saying?" and even suggesting that we should go after the person who leaked the info!

That's right ass-hat. It's their fault.

The ironically Elephantine Republican mascot Rush Limbaugh is busy blustering away claiming "it's a democratic conspiracy" as he sits on his titanium reinforced chair, Inhaling Oxycontin, galumphing into the spit-guard of his mike, (which I'm told smells like a mixture of horse-shit, Necco wafers and Scotch), and covering it with little bits of this morning's rooty-tooty-fresh-n-fruity breakfast.

And once again, it's Bill Clinton's fault! That's right folks! Not the people covering it up, not the people who knew and did nothing, not Hastert or Foley or anybody in their sphere,...it's Bill Clinton!

"Look what HE did!"

Nice try scumbags but having consentual sex with a woman who is of legal age or above is a world of difference from pedophilia! Why in the Hell should anyone have to even point out this distinction is beyond me.

But wait a minute, it's not just Bill Clinton's fault! I forgot who else's fault it was. But thankfully, the little Republican ventriloquist dummy Matt drudge reminded me!

It's the children's fault.

Wait for it,....let it sink in,....give it a second to process.

Thaaaaaaaat's right. The kids are to blame! Didn't you know? They led him on! They set him up! Hell, they're probably on Clinton's Goddam payroll for Christs's sake!

I'm not kidding either. This little man-bitch,....this GOP shill, this little regime puppet, this sick little shit-stain of a human is blaming the young boys for leading the poor congressman on.

Here's a poisoned quote from the little turd-blossom....

"And if anything, these kids are less innocent -- these 16 and 17 year-old beasts...and I've seen what they're doing on YouTube and I've seen what they're doing all over the internet -- oh yeah -- you just have to tune into any part of their pop culture. You're not going to tell me these are innocent babies. Have you read the transcripts that ABC posted going into the weekend of these instant messages, back and forth? The kids are egging the Congressman on! The kids are trying to get this out of him. We haven't got the whole story on this. "

You disease. You pig. Here's more,.....

"You could say "well Drudge, it's abuse of power, a congressman abusing these impressionable, young 17 year-old beasts, talking about their sex lives with a grown man, on the internet." Because you have to remember, those of us who have seen some of the transcripts of these nasty instant messages. This was two ways, ladies and gentlemen. These kids were playing Foley for everything he was worth. Oh yeah. Oh, I haven't...they were talking about how many times they'd masturbated, how many times they'd done it with their girlfriends this weekend...all these things and these "innocent children." And this poor congressman sitting there typing, "oh am I going to get any," you know?"

I've seen the transcripts,...I've seen the IMs and e-mails and there aint' no question folks. And how dare this little piglet who suckles at the diseased teat of this Republican crime regime, drinking the curdled milk as he awaits his master's command dare imply that there is any blame to be lain anywhere other than the head of this predatory pedophilic piece of chicken-fried crap that tries to pass itself off as a United States congressman.

Drudge is right about one thing however when he says this isin't over.

In the time it took me to go to lunch and come back, we've already learned that Foley interrupted a vote on the floor of the House in 2003 to engage in Internet sex with a high school student who had served as a congressional page, an FBI investigation was blocked by the Republican heads who assured them they were "handling the matter privately", and that Fox News previously had copies of Foley e-mails but didn't run them.

The avalanche continues to fall and seeing what we've learned today,....can you imagine what we'll know tomorrow?

When, Lord oh when will you deliver us from these men?

By the way,....the politically active religious right, who so vocally defends damn near everything the God-loving Republicans do has been,....strangely silent.

Nutty, huh?

Oh and also,....Matt Drudge, you and all who share your view are foul, sick little corn-flecked turds who continue to crawl and scratch your way back up the bowl no matter how many times we flush.

Go back to your evil masters and shut the Christ up, already.

Your words are poison to good people who know the truth.

How dare you, sir?

Have you no decency?

Some links you need to see.

This is your government at work, folks!

http://abcnews.go.com/WNT/print?id=2509586

http://www.rawstory.com/news/2006/Congressman_accused_of_sending_sick_emails_0928.html

http://blogs.abcnews.com/theblotter/2006/10/new_foley_insta.html

*EDIT* Oh! Almost forgot! Here's a list of all of the Republican peodophiles! Enjoy!

http://www.armchairsubversive.com/

A little Sunday silliness.

2006-10-01T20:12:00.000-07:00

Now,.... some of you may or may not know what a furry is.

Working in the animation industry, I've encountered these interesting folks on more than one occasion and I've even worked with a few.

Long story short,.....they're people who identify with, assume the personas of and generally gravitate to anything that has to do with animated, (preferably anthropomorphic), animal characters.

They are sort of a sub-group of the comic-book culture and they definitely have their share of extremists. There's a fair share of them that build elaborate "fur-suits" to parade around conventions and participate in all the extra-curricular social activities that accompany it.

I won't go into detail.

Several years ago, my girlfriend and I were laughing about the idea of "going undercover" at one of these things and filming all of the madness that goes on there, (as with any comic book related event), So,...in the spirit of a good old-fashioned goof,.... two of my buddies, who are well versed in this culture helped us build a suit, (which came out waaaaay too nice for what it ended up being used for), we fired up the camera, Cynthia got in the suit, and the video here, (which took me almost five years to get around to editing), is the end result.

It great spoofy fun!

And boy-oh-boy was it an education!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZBODjS19Ac

Civil Disobedience,...with a SMILE!

2006-09-26T16:45:00.000-07:00

Yet another little bit of Photoshop Phun!

Appropriate, I think,.... NYUK! NYUK!

People have GENITALS,...get OVER IT!

2006-09-26T11:17:00.000-07:00

Boy, oh boy, oh boy did this one get my knickers in a twist,....From the Dallas Morning news coming outta Frisco, Texas! Yeeeeeeee-Haaaaaaaaaah!

FRISCO : A veteran Frisco art teacher says school administrators have retaliated against her because a student reportedly saw a nude sculpture during a field trip to the Dallas Museum of Art.
District officials say they are supporting a principal who reprimanded Sydney McGee over the field trip and other performance issues.
At Ms. McGee's request, the situation was aired in public during a school board meeting Monday.
The school board rejected a request that would have allowed Ms. McGee to transfer to another school.
Ms. McGee told the board that the principal of Fisher Elementary School criticized her performance and threatened her job after a parent complained about the April field trip.
Ms. McGee's attorney, Daniel Ortiz, said she didn't receive any negative reports until shortly after the field trip.
"This case is about censorship. ... It's about retaliation front and center," Mr. Ortiz told the board.
Ms. McGee, who has taught in various Texas districts for 28 years, said she visited the museum and spoke with museum staffers before the trip to ensure that it was appropriate for the fifth-grade class. Ms. McGee said she does not know which piece of art offended the parent, and the district did not identify it.
Ms. McGee said principal Nancy Lawson called her into a meeting the day after the trip to admonish her about the parent's complaint. Shortly thereafter, she received a negative review and a series of directives about displaying student artwork and creating lesson plans.
"You have to start somewhere when you've seen things you don't believe are in the best interest of the students," Superintendent Rick Reedy said.
In a memo to Ms. McGee, Ms. Lawson wrote that students were exposed to nude statues and other nude art representations during the trip. Ms. Lawson said she received complaints from parents and other teachers about the trip.
Ms. McGee said Monday that she was afraid of being fired. Ms. Lawson told the board that she planned to have Ms. McGee return to Fisher this fall.
Ms. McGee said she sought to resolve the issue by requesting a transfer.
"There was such hostility, I didn't feel like that was a good environment," she said.
That grievance and another transfer request were rejected by administrators. The school board unanimously upheld those decisions Monday night.
Some board members said it appeared that Ms. Lawson was trying to improve the art teacher's performance and should be allowed to do so.
"It is a principal's job and their duty and responsibility to give directives to the people who work for them, and I don't want to circumvent that process," board president Buddy Minett said.
Board members said there were other performance issues in question beyond the trip complaint.
But Ms. McGee and her attorney said there is a clear connection.
"She made a great effort to see to it that the April 26 field trip was in fact a big success," Mr. Ortiz said. "Apparently one parent complained, and that changed Sydney's work."

So,...after I read this, my head cracked open like and egg and let out a shriek from the depths of my soul and as the wailing cry rang like a clarion through my condo-complex I'm sure the old lady at the corner jolted up from her dropped egg on toast and said, "What the Hell was that?"

So,...let me get this straight,....even though the teacher has been actively employed for twenty eight years, all of a sudden,.....now her performance is a problem. It wasn't before the field trip,(which, I assume all children's parents had to sign a permission slip for), but miraculously, after the field trip, the ten-gallon hat wearing school board has an issue with her performance.

All because an intelligent woman, (and we all know it had to have been a woman because women, after all, are responsible for all sin! Curse of Eve and all that), tried to bring a little culture and art history to their little shit-kicking, hick, future neo-cons.

And let's be clear,....it was the parents who complained, not, (if we're to believe this article), the child. These idiot parents, who should probably never have reproduced in the first place, have an issue with classical art that has been celebrated and moreover, displayed in public for thousands of years.

Was the child really that traumatized by catching a glimpse of David's package sans the fig leaf? Or perhaps the voluptuous exposed breasts of The birth of Venus? I'm betting no fifth-grader in that place was anything but delighted and this parent is treating it like the teacher brought them to a revival screening of Deep Throat.

And the supreme act of cowardice on the part of the school board as they will neither reveal the parents, nor the offending piece of art. How cowardly is that? You can be accused but are not allowed to face your accuser nor refute the claim to said person, (if that is, indeed, still the story).

So, the teacher cannot address the party, cannot refute the claim and they will not allow her to transfer.

Can you say, "getting railroaded", boys and girls? I knew you could!

And big, fat hairy, red-state surprise, it came out of TEXAS! Good old God-fearing gun-toting thank-you-so-much-for-the-bush-crime-family, fattest people pre capita, super-sized oil loving TEXAS!

I hate these stories with every fiber of my being,....This type of parent, this abomination, this misguided broken thing,....if it was the mother, (and I bet you 99% it was, if not I'll be surprised), I picture this uptight, coiffed "proper" woman. The kind of woman who cannot appreciate a good ol' fashioned dose of "blue humor". The kind of woman who wants to censor classic cartoons, "for the children".

The kind of woman who reads the Bible and thinks she understands it, the kind of woman who only has sex "the normal way", with no deviation, even on "special occasions", like her anniversary. A woman wound so tight and so afraid of herself and everything else she feels the need to insulate her children from the projected evils of this world she so greatly fears.

Evils like sex, or,.....sex,......or even sex,....but especially SEX!

The type of woman who can't even swear when she whacks her thumb with a hammer or stubs her toe on a loose flagstone. She'll blurt out, "H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY-STICKS!", or the perennial favorite, "SUGAR-HONEY-ICED-TEA!"

This woman doesn't own a vibrator, she has no idea where her G-spot is and she thinks a clitoris is a German car.

If it's the father, I picture a God-fearing Christian that doesn't go in for all that evolution bunk, the kind of guy who knows for a fact that the world is only six-thousand years old and that dinosaur bones are a trick of the devil.

He knows masturbation is a sin and though he may "sin" on a daily basis, he goes to confession and says ten Hail Marys so it all comes out in the wash, (with All temper-cheer with bleach).

This is a man who believes in peace and brotherhood but wants to "kill the Muslims!" The type of guy who will condemn sex out of wedlock and then go to a hooker for all of the services his wife will not perform, (she is, after all, the mother of his children,...she aint' no whore!).

This guy doesn't support stem-cell research, or gay rights. He thinks AIDS is a curse from God and that someday, JAY-ZUS will come and take him and his perfect family away in the rapture and as he rises gracefully from this new Sodom and Gomorrah he will laugh with righteous splendor as "the queers" and liberals all burn and scream skyward with envy and remorse as the pious ones are whisked away to a Heavenly country club where they can play golf and booze all day and most definitely, no minorities are allowed.

A bit histrionic? Perhaps a wee bit over-exaggerated? Maybe.

But I don't think anyone can debate that this poor teacher is a victim of a small minded person's fear of Sex. And that's what it boils down to.

"The naughty bits", and all the damage the Bible tells you they cause because as you know,....Jesus never thought about sex,...Hell! He didn't even have a penis! He's the Biblical equivalent of a Ken doll.

An androgynous smiling blonde haired blue eyed Nazarenen Brad Pitt who never had a human urge in his entire life,....who never thought about love, or perhaps contemplated marriage.

Who never looked at a woman, or thought about a woman and for the love of GOD,...never, ever, ever, looked on with eyebrows raised as he may have glimpsed Mary Magdalen leaning down over the rocks to wash her hair in the river, with water running down her shoulders in rivulets as her eyes flashed and reflected the lazy afternoon sunlight, sitting there perched on the banks and letting her hair dry in the gentle desert breeze while they lazily sipped wine and spoke of the depths of the spirit and the eternal nature of the soul.

These are the type of idiots who have let the modern Christian churches demonize sex and make it "a dirty thing".

So they kick up a stink and everyone else pays. The world of classical art, the community, the children.

I blame the school board, the cowardly principal, but most of all,....I blame the parents for being complete and total, holier-than-thou, closed minded flaming dipshits with no ability to think beyond their own narrow microcosm.

If there is a Karmic balance, the child of this parent will become the most successful porn star of the 21st centruy.

Or maybe just an artist who paints a lot of nude portraits.

Photoshop Phun

2006-09-21T17:00:00.000-07:00

There's nothing like a little good old fashioned civil disobedience on your lunch hour.

I did this while enjoying a turkey sammich at work.

Heh!

Never been so horrified,.....

2006-09-20T22:40:00.000-07:00

.....at a movie trailer as I am at this one.

They say the radical Muslims are bad?

We got it right here at home.

I have no pithy comments or witty reparte' to offer up regarding this. Simply watch for yourself and witness the impending future.

Jesus Christ.

Literally.

http://www.apple.com/trailers/magnolia/jesuscamp/trailer/

Well welcome aboard, Mister late-to-the-party

2006-09-20T17:18:00.000-07:00

So,... Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez stood before the United Nations today and called Ol' King George the Devil and here is the quote,...."The devil came here yesterday," (he said, referring to Mr Bush's speech on Tuesday), "It still smells of sulphur today."

And I'm thinking, as I quote Bruce Willis in Die Hard,... "WELCOME TO THE PARTY PAL!!!"

Yah Hugo, we pretty much knew that.

Maybe it was lying to the American Public about the war, maybe it's the illegal wire taps on home soil, or it could even be the fact that he keeps saying the law doesn't apply to him because he's, "A wartime president", or it could be the pesky little matter of trying to retro-actively absolve himself of prisoner torture as the shadow of the impending congressional mid-term elections looms near.

Or it could be the way he completely dances around The Geneva Convention by claiming the defenition of human rights that prevents torture of prisoners is "too vague"

It could be the fact that he's allowed big business to privatize every aspcet of the Government and business, or the way he allows the oil companies to manufacture an energy crisis and artificially inflate prices at the pump.

It could also be the secret prisons we know know they have, or little things like, "You're doin' a heck of a job, Brownie", while Katrina blew New Orleans away, or not giving the troops the proper equipment and bait and switching their tours of duty.

It could be no exit strategy, or it could be Darth Cheney, or Tom Delay, Donald Rumsfeld Condaleeza Rice and Karl Rove. Or his cowardly ignoring of Cindy Sheehan when she only has one simple question, ("what did my son die for?"), or it could be one of a thousand other things including actively trying to wipe out the American middle class as he advances some globalist Project-for-a-new-American-Century right-wing Neo-Conservative Christian fascist armageddon while he pisses on the Constitution.

Pick any of those and run with it.

If the administration is, indeed being run by the Devil, (and every other demon from Hell that is actively employed by it), then America is truly possessed.

And we all know what happens when you're possessed,......you need an exorcism.

Mid-term elections are coming inNovember and if there is a God in Heaven, or if the founding fathers can take a moment from rolling in their graves and exact some positive influence over this poor, sick country, then the Democrats will take the house, get subpoena power back and faster than you can say, "I CAST YOU OUT, UNCLEAN SPIRIT!", inquiry and impeachment proceedings will begin.

And maybe the country will shake and convulse, spit up pea soup, spin it's head around, levitate off the bed and finally give up the ghost.

And as the dust clears and the first rays of sunshine cut like a knife through the darkness of that bad night, the little midget lady from Poltergeist will climb up on a stack of phonebooks in front of the capitol building, delicately moving a lock of hair out of her face in a Southern lady-like fashion and demurely proclaim,...

"This house is clean."

Until then, I cross my fingers and pray to anyone who will listen.

Dishonoring a dead woman

2006-09-18T15:04:00.000-07:00

On the morning of January 15th 1947, a woman named Betty Bersinger was out walking with her three year old daughter when she stumbled upon what she at first believed to be a discarded mannequin dumped at the edge of a vacant lot in downtown Los Angeles.

It didn't take long for the horrifying realization to hit home. Terrified, Betty covered her child's eyes and hurried off to sound the alarm, leaving the bisected body of poor Elizabeth Short in the dewy grass of that early overcast morning and ushering in an auspicious beginning to the legend of The Black Dahlia, the most notorious and unsolved murder in the history of LA county.

It's not easy to pinpoint why this particular murder has become such a magnet for grim fascination over the years. Perhaps it was the brutality of the injuries inflicted on the poor, hauntingly beautiful girl. Perhaps it was the media circus that was being perpetuated by the ever-growing tabloid-style journalism rampant in the papers of the time. Perhaps it was the fact that so many people, (all disproven and disregarded), stepped forward to claim that they were Betty Short's killer. Perhaps, more than anything, it is because the murder was, (and largely is to this day), unsolved.

Whatever the reason, one thing is indisputably clear and it's the fact that nobody had seen such brutality or such a media frenzy until the incident.

Those two things combined became un unstoppable force in galvanizing the image of this beautiful girl in the minds of the public who's beauty only served to make her end more horrifying.

Though many of the details were initially kept out of the paper, it was eventually learned that Elizabeth Short had been tortured before she was killed. Cutting the woman in half was the least of the atrocities. Short's mouth had been slit from ear to ear giving her a grotesque "clown grin", both of her legs had been broken and there was head trauma. Various contusions and bruises, (as well as rope burns), showed an obvious sign of struggle and there were patches of skin removed along with all of her major organs.

There are other details which I will refrain from relaying but if you want more of the story it can be found here,....

http://www.crimelibrary.com/notorious_murders/famous/dahlia/index_1.html

As well as here,.....

http://www.bethshort.com/the-murder.php

(Note: follow these links at your own discretion. The crime scene photos are bad enough but the morgue photos will haunt you till the day you die).

Because of the horrific nature of this crime, I thought the new movie, The Black Dahlia, directed by Brian DePalma and based on a novel by LA Confidential author James Ellroy, would be a movie that would posthumously honor, (as best as one could considering the subject matter), and pay tribute to this fallen star from Hyde Park, Massachusetts.

Boy was I ever wrong.

To call this movie convoluted would be an understatement. Now,...before anyone starts screaming about inaccuracies and artistic license, I know it was based on a novel about the case, okay? I know all about interpretation and suspension of disbelief and spicing things up for the movies but you don't just go and make shit up!

The story centers around a pair of semi-corrupt LA detectives, (who used to be semi-corrupt boxers), who stumble upon Elizabeth Short's body after a botched stakeout operation.

From that point on, Beth Short's murder becomes, at best, a sidebar and her presence, (both dead or alive in flashbacks but played nicely by Mia Kirshner), becomes so sporadic, you find yourself asking, "Wasn't this movie about The Black Dahlia murder?"

What you get instead is Aaaron eckhart throwing fits, a maudlin Josh Hartnett looking like a sedated Basset hound, Scarlett Johanssen filling out period sweaters and smoking, and Hilary Swank vamping so over the top that she makes Elizabeth Berkley's performance in Showgirls seem dull by comparison.

There's double-crossing double-dealing and living in sin as a sort of threesome but without sex and a bank heist that you sorta maybe might remember them referencing about twenty minutes back and there's a pimp, and maybe someone's dead sister that's referenced for some reason, a lesbian nightclub, (all the rage in 40's LA, I hear), as well as Hartnett's crazy German father who spends his screen time plugging pigeons with a BB gun from his tenement window, (arguably the best part of the film. I was bummed when he left).

At some point you expect the detectives to turn to one another and say,...

"Weren't we supposed to be doing something?"
"You mean that Black Dahlia thing?"
"RIGHT! Right! Yeah. That's it. So,......wanna go get a cuppa mud?"

When we do get to Elizabeth's story, it's purely speculative crap. There's haunting screen tests, (no evidence she ever did any), where she breaks down, and tells the camera vulnerable secret things as Hartnett does his best to frown smartly and squint as he watches them. There's lesbian stag films, (again,...no evidence), where, Betty Short, yet again, looks sad as Eckhart flails around like a bee-stung bear and smashes things in protest, and a bullshit scene as Elizabeth is murdered under the careless eye of the Hollywood sign as if DePalma wants you to know,....

'Twas Hollywood that do'd it!

All of it is topped off by a climax that attempts to tie up so many lose ends in such rapid-fire succession that it only succeeds in tying itself up in knots.

While the audience sits there scratching it's head.

I know DePalma's not huge on historical accuracy, as we can all attest to after seeing Kevin Costner throw Frank Nitti off of a building in The Untouchables, (even though Nitti went on to run Capone's operations while Al was in prison but who's askin'?), but at some point you have to give a nod to the actual facts.

Unfortunately, with all it's beautiful cinematography and haunting score, all this film succeeds in doing is painting an even more tragic and lascivious picture of this already tragic figure.

Perhaps with the passing of this film, Elizabeth Short as well as The Black Dahlia may finally rest in peace.

They say if you put a hundred monkeys with type writers in a room...

2006-09-18T14:30:00.000-07:00

That they would eventually type out Shakespeare.

This is the case when it comes to me and "programming" HTML.

Something I never remotely anticipated with this blog but it seems that computer programming has caught up with me after all these years on the lam.

Now I will in no way claim that my programming skills are as prolific as Macbeth or as romantically tragic as Romeo and Juliet or as comedic as A Midsummer Night's Dream but believe me when I say,.....figuring out how to crack the HTML in the sidebar section of this blog in order to post links was a major accomplishment for me.

I remeber struggling back in junior high in a very basic computer class. I mean,...they gave you the answers and I still screwed it up.

All I remeber is a bunch of "if x=y then" and "If this = that then goto line 5" type of thing and while everyone else was beaming proudly at their little basic calculators they had programmed, more often than not, I was sitting there going through lines of code trying to figure out where the heck I had gone wrong and lamenting the fact that I couldn't wish my way into the cornfield and be rid of all this numbers madness.

The weird thing is,....over the years,.....I became, well,....."computer-competent" without knowing it. They say that necessity is the mother of invention and while I wasn't looking, I learned things like Photoshop and Pinnacle Studio and a bevy of other programs that today i wonder what I ever did without them.

I started low level designing my message boards with color schemes and borders and sidebars and I started talking to my parents over the phone saying things like, "Well what's the error message say?" and "Did you try rebooting?" and "Well try running it in safe mode."

I'm adding graphics and images and pictures and links to my online messages and I'm using words like RAM and Terabyte and Broadband and what's more, I actually understand them.

I use "hot keys" and "shortcuts" and I can make "jpegs" and "mpegs" and "wave files".

There are times when I step back and I say to myself, "who is this person?"

Even the simple act of typing has increased ten-fold in people. My mother used to do medical transcription and I remember hearing her speed typing at an alarming rate and while I'm nowhere near that,....I'm amazed at the speed with which I DO type.

The reality is,....people learn by doing. They learn by repetition and all those e-mails we send out every day, all those times we upload software and download applications, all those times we pull anything off of a camera or a disk,...all of that stuff, is truning the average person into a basic level computer expert.

And that's pretty amazing.

To think that I've gone from gnashing my teeth over a screwed up calculator program in seveth grade to using a multi-layerd video editing program and outputting it as a jpeg for the web is simply astonishing to me.

If I had to sit down and learn that,...it would be a struggle worthy of Atlas shouldering the earth to me but having learned it over time on my own only serves to show me how much presentation can present a mental roadblock.

If I have to learn it,....it's a chore.

if I want to learn it,....it's a hobby.

And we all know that hobbies are fun.

I wish I could learn to look at everything I hate to do as a hobby.

I think I'd get a lot more done.

Addiction, to be sure,....but to WHAT is the question?

2006-09-16T09:34:00.001-07:00

I was never into the coffee culture all that much. In fact, I remember distinctly as a child wondering how in the Hell adults could swig this poison with such regularity as they did

The age old cliche', "Not before my morning coffee", (or some varying equivalent), was heard more than once in my young life and on the rare occasion I sipped my grandmother or mother's coffee I remember the taste damn near turning my face inside out.

All except for one occasion and it was in,....I wanna say Kindergarten,....yeah,...let's go with that.

Kindergarten.

I got a lemon drop lodged in my throat. Not enough to cut off my air but enough to cause me obvious distress. I spent the remainder of that school day perched on the teacher's lap like some cherubic ventriloquist dummy as she poured her coffee down my throat in a pretty clever on the spot attempt to melt the candy.

Very MacGyver of her and kudos to the woman. I hope wherever she is, she's well because she was a great and kind teacher.

I didn't mind the coffee that day.

And now, I am an adult, (well, in theory), and truth be told, I cannot remember when I started drinking coffee on a regular basis, least of all when or how I developed the ability to discern good coffee from bad coffee.

But here it is. A hidden talent that perhaps most people have but like a weird sort of sensory puberty,....it doesn't hit till a certain point, (though I DO know kids drink coffee quite a bit more than when I was younger).

Now,...it's easy and even in some cases, trendy to claim addiction to one thing or another. Almost as if some people wear the addiction on their sleeves as some tragic badge of honor or conversation piece, which I think undercuts people with legitimate addictions.

"I'm sooooooo addicted to Redbull, y'know?"

So I am hesitant to say I am addicted to coffee.

The Oxford American Dictionary describes addiction thusly:

Addiction: ( a-dik-shon) n. 1. doing or using something as habit or compulsively. 2. devoted to something as a hobby or interest.

Well shit! Addiction I'm not partial to but I can sure a s Hell do interest!

I'm not addicted to coffee,....I'm interested in it!

It's a hobby.

It's printed right there in black and white so, A.) It must be true, and B.) It doesn't matter cause it's in print. :)

Seriously though,...if I had to guess,.....it's the feeling it invokes. There's an almost ritual to it's preparation. The filling of the pot, sliding the filter into place, spooning out the grounds, (grinding them if you're really hard core). It's become a prelude to the day. A period of reflection while you wrap your hands around the warm cup and let the aroma fill your nose in the same way it fills your house as it's brewing, drifting through the air like a delicate spirit with it's fragile bouquet.

For me,.....the taste,...the taste of a particular brand of coffee conjures an immediate sense memory. I actually have Dunkin' Donuts brand coffee shipped to me here in California. First of all, it's simply due to the fact that it's Goddam good coffee.

That's the first thing.

Second is, simply,...it reminds me of home. It brings forth images of people getting out of their cars early in the morning, while the sky is still dark and their breath comes out in a dense fog swirling around their heads as these people, women in heavy coats and blue-collar men in flannel and work boots all converge at the altar of the morning with the pink and orange sign calling them like a beacon.

I don't eat the donuts but the smell is fantastic. You step up to the counter and a woman, (generally), with a hard Boston accent, (always), says, "Who's next?", or "What can I get foreyah?", or other times simply point at you and say, "Yah?"

And you say, "Large, (Laaaage), regular." and they put the half and half and sugar in, pop the plastic top on that styrofoam cup and you're on your way,...pushing out past the line of people waiting for their magic elixer as you trudge to your car, a little warmer now against the freezing New England wind and most assuredly, ready to face the day.

There's also a sort of weird brotherhood between D&D coffee drinkers. I've seen total strangers pass one another, each holding a cup and raise it like a toast, giving a little nod to eachother as if they're silently saying, "Hey buddy, we're smarter, (smahtah), than the rest of em' aint we?"

Weird, the little things that draw us together.

There really must be a "home memory" over taste factor to it because my friend Elaine has Tim Hortons coffee shipped in from Canada and she swears by it,.....while conversely, it nearly killed my parents while traveling through Canada recently.

The second they hit the Maine border they went straight to a "Dunkies" like it was an oasis in the Gobi desert, (except with crullers).

Though whether you like your local version of "joe" or Chock full-o-nuts I think we can all agree that this whole Starbucks thing is bullshit.

If I want bitter tasting swamp water that looks like motor-oil strained through a sweat sock I'll do it myself,....and I certainly won't charge myself five bucks for the privilege.

I also don't want to have to learn how to speak Italian to order a coffee.

Every time I've been in there ordering I feel like a dim slow child trying to read Green Eggs and Ham for the first time. You read very slowly and move your lips a s lot.

"I'd like a ,......mocha-latti-ssimo-chai....kakka-chino.....some..thing-iatto?"

And their sizes?

Tall, (small), Grande, (still small), and Venti!,(Dunkin' Donuts small).

And you're not a barrista, okay? YOU POUR COFFEE.

And they have a school for this when they hire you? Are you kidding me? You go to electrician school, or plumbers school or carpentry school or computer school. I don't need to go to coffee school. I think I can figure out how to sell you $7 coffee, (whipped cream and caramel drizzle, sir?), and fleece you for a biscotti.

And the clientele'? Do I really wanna sit there next to some Hollywood poser with his iBook and listen to the little clown talk way too loudly into his cell phone about his screenplay?

Nobody wants to see Gremlins 5, jack-hole.

It's enough to put you off the coffee experience completely!

So I continue to observe my coffee ritual in the quiet of my own home, or my office.

So there it is. Drinking coffee is a psychological extension of home which reminds me of a safer time when I felt more secure. Coffee=Home=safe therefore we can extrapolate from this equation that coffee=safe!

See?

Or maybe I'm just addicted.

Sean

Yet ANOTHER book recommendation!? The HELL you say!

2006-09-15T08:43:00.000-07:00

Now,....it's not that I think you are all a bunch of mouth-breathing knuckle-dragging miscreants who are in need of a literary education,....I just seem to be on a book kick lately.

I was walking out of Barnes and Nobel last night, (freshly raped after paying $45 for season two of Dead Like Me), and I stopped at the true crime section.

The shame of this is that I must reveal I was looking for the new book on The Black Dahlia murder. With the new film out I have been consumed with re-acquainting myself with the fate of poor Elizabeth Short, but I digress.

What I did find,....the little gem that was there,...was the fantastic book by Nicholas Pileggi entitled Wiseguy.

The story of life in a Mafia family and boy-howdy is it ever. In case you may not know or have not yet guessed, this is the real-life account of mid level mobster and pop-culture anti-hero Henry Hill and the (very tight) basis for one of the greatest films ever to hit the silver screen,...Martin Scorcese's Magnum Opus, GOODFELLAS in which Ray Liotta plays Henry with maniac yet subtle brilliance.

The book itself is an unintentional valentine to life in the mob yet is nowhere near as romanticized as Mario Puzo's The Godfather, (also another one of the greatest films of all time).

aficionados of the film will not be disappointed as much of the dialogue as well as Hill's narration were lifted almost word for word from the pages of the text. There's also a lot of stuff in the book not explored in the film, (due, I'm sure, to time constraints as well as story relevance), such as Henry's stint in the Army and a few other things.

Overall I cannot persuade you enough to treat yourself to this book. It's a fast read and you won't be surprised when you go back to it again and again.

Personally, I was delighted because I've been searching for it for years after I lost my copy and I had feared it out of print.

On a side note,....I find it astonishing that Henry Hill is not dead yet. Between his chronic alcoholism and drug use but moreso from his shocking regularity of public appearances.

From his frequent drunken appearances on The Howard Stern Show, (the last in which he could be heard slurringly accosting news reporter Lisa G. for "a caramel macchiato" which she mistook for something far nastier), to his website goodfellahenry where he's hawking his tomato sauce, (Ginzo or "Sunday" Gravy), it's not exactly like you don't know where to find him.

I'm surprised nobody's walked right up to him, said, "You're a f**king RAT, Henry!" and ventilated his skull with a .45.

Perhaps he's just seen as too tragic a figure.

Like shooting fish in a barrel or moreover,....maybe his detractors see it as a more fitting punishment for him to rot away slowly from alcohol and spiritual poisoning.

Maybe dying quick is too good for this Goodfella.

Whatever the case may be,.....Henry Hill and his story, (what you can believe of it), have become a pop culture Mafia version of Cinderella and will forever be in the hearts and minds of film lovers everywhere.

The book Wiseguy is no exception.

Open some red wine, (gimme the white too), cook up some pasta, and give it a good read.

But remember,....keep stirring it, and don't put too many onions in the sauce.

Sean

Disproportionate pride.

2006-09-14T08:50:00.000-07:00

Disproportionate pride is what occurs when you are as proud at an event or a thing that is as if you accomplished it yourself yet it is not your own!

I have a few of those floating around my sphere right now but none so profound as this little sweetie right here.

My friend Sarah published a NOVEL.

Yah. Pretty much.

Now it's one thing to have a group of friends that you almost suspect was pre-ordained before your actual birth, it's another to have an almost supernatural bond to a group of people where, no matter how much time passes, no matter how long the daily grind of life gets in the way, you seem to grow closer. That odd phenomenon wherein you don't speak to somebody for three years and when you do you feel like,..."Didn't we just talk on Monday?"

But it's quite another thing when your group grows up and starts doing "adult things" that were, when you formed your little pubescent bond, seemingly unattainable or seemed like Herculean feats that only adults could accomplish.

Well,....Sarah is foremost among my group of particular mutants, (although none of us has yet developed claws and super-healing powers but hope springs eternal. We are nothing, if not optimists).

Sarah and I , as well as having the spooky ability to read eachothers thoughts with disturbing regularity, also have a juggernaut of a work ethic so when she told me she was going to self-publish a novel,......I simply said, "Cool!" and waited.

Of course, it took some time,....motherhood, (a key component in the novel and brilliantly illustrated), is a full time job and God bless my buddy Pete,...the ever dutiful husband, fellow mutant and MOTH, (man of the house), for holding down the fort while Sarah retreated to, "The writing cave".

I have the extreme honor of having read several drafts of this as it was a work in progress and it was such a joy watching this come along.

So here it is,....."What happens when love won't take a time out"?

You get Stay at Home,...a new work of fiction, (Goddam brilliant fiction), by Sarah Phelan.

It's a great book,......Sara's turn of phrase and handling of dialogue is reminiscent of the descriptiveness of Stephen King with rapid-fire witty exchanges worth of Vince Vaughn delivering them.

The plot twists are varied, and tragically human. Through the laughs and chuckles and playful scenarios is the underlying spectre of things not achieved, forbidden attraction and the unavoidable yearning for excitement, (forbidden or otherwise), that is sometimes, (oddly so), a side-effect of a good safe suburban existence.

The characters, (especially the main character Janie), are very real, and though one may rush to judgment that they are sometimes bad people,....they are in fact, good people making bad, (and very relateable, and again very human), decisions.

Everytime I look at the book on my nightstand, I get a swell of pride that, as I said,...is as if it were my book, and I wouldn't say this if I didn't feel it either.

You can get the book here,.....

http://www.billysmitts.com

You can also get it at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Borders Books and Music.

Go buy it or I'll punch you in the kidneys.

Well,...not really. But go buy it.

Seriously.

Sean

I'm an individual,....Just like everybody else

2006-09-13T22:54:00.000-07:00

Everybody and their kid sister seems to have a blog these days and I suppose I can avoid it no longer.

Truth be told,.....I'm not sure I'm going to be able to maintain this whole "blog thing".

In a world of blogs, livejournals, message boards and the like, I suppose it was inevitable that I land one of these sooner or later.
I DO have a livejournal account somewhere that I've allowed to languish in much the same way a young child may forget his hamster cage he left on a broiling windowsill in the dead of a Georgia summer.

Thus,....my old account, like said hamster,....lies a dried up old husk somewhere on the windowsill of the internet. Perhaps I will fare better with this new pet. ;)

It seems everywhere I go and almost everyone I talk to these days asks if I have either a blog
or a myspace account so now when faced with such a question I can answer a resounding "yes!" To what ends this will achieve, I have no idea but the fact of the matter is,.....

I am intrigued by the possibility of eliciting lively conversation, fostering debate and carrying on an overall lively discourse with people outside of my normal sphere of existence.

I actually run a couple of message boards, (dedicated to prop-replica building and hobby model-building), and despite the fact that there is an "off-topic" forum, the conversations inevitably always turns back to hobby-talk.

Yet I, like all of us,...Am a multi-sided creature,.....much like Shrek expounded to a puzzled Donkey in their first movie,...

"Ogre's have layers."

And so do I,.....so here I will rant and rave about politics, pop culture, the paranormal as well as things that start with letters other than "P".

The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step,......

Here we go,....one step at a time.....

Sean