1 June 2009
http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/baseball/mets/2009/05/31/2009-05-31_john_maine_mets_survive_stomach.html
and
http://www.mediabistro.com/fishbowlny/media_companies/swine_flu_hits_conde_nast_as_newhouse_profile_hits_newsstands_117789.asp
OM NOM NOM EVERYBODY PANIC!
17 April 2009
the worst castles
are the best castles
they stand tall & proud
on the shoulders & backs
of the iconoclasts who built them
i’m not talking ’bout no
aristocracy
that grotesque teabag sideshow act
this is for the remnant ruminants
this is for those who are
on the hook
castled with
a scottish rook
en passant by the duke of earl of sandwich board Lord Hoard
strung up and down and out
dangling feet
first
from a tapestry cord
you are free to go my lord
dismissed with a
pacifist fist
a pitchfork in the mist and smoke
of a torch that lights the way,
if I may,
to a mutual
free’dom’nation
versive submission
supine cursive subjugate geishas
cut-rate prostrate nerf serfs
carried by a sinusoidal wave of
volatile volition
ablution
volution
evolution
revolution
convolution
dissolution
no solution
no end to your troubles
just because you flipped the table
over
did your chore
spun the revolving power door
(redblackredblackredblack red black red black red black red black)
to even out the illusory score
one more time, we gotta celebrate
for plus ça change, plus ça―
nihil novi sub sole
nothing new under the sun, son
no need to fuss, gus
your are the food chain, boss
you are what you eat
one day you’re a jerk
one day you’re a molé
one day you’re a beast
and one day you’re full of pollack-sole
on the dole
fresh from a boxcar
(like) cheaply picked fruit
low hanging
easy pickings for charles dickens
in a panty twist of olive fate we call
progress
you put the con in congress
it’s all about cheap labour, you see
the more the merrier
the merrier the more
as long as you keep poppin’ out
desperate masses
into the lower classes
you will be the pope’s dope
and the rich man’s one and only hope
that you’ll break your back
and cough and hack
and lift and stack
line the rack
stretched from commonwealth sea
to shining commonwealth sea
you’re so gonna need the CPR
you the ever-patient patient
etherized upon your Emily Carr tableau
upon your Canadian Shield flatbed
gallopping over cardiac expansion joints
the empire buck starts and stops here
at these extreme points, you see
gets snuffed out (like)
a cracked downtown east side olympic torch here
here, in terminal city
but the castles start… here
in your chessboard’s corner
the desperation here so thick it’s sick
bad cologne of lonely hearts
without a club
or a rubber-sole band
you are free to take a hike
to snap
to beat
to bleed
to rag
to stop
drop
roll
a perfect strike
use pins
to drag
to slug
to trail
through sand
by hand
homeric stone bowling ball after ball
for the edifice hall o’
the exalted pharaoh master blaster
(whose barter-garter disposition’s never quite sunny, ya dig?)
but his overcast royal
alabaster dour
facade
smug smog mug
has got your goat
he’s got you by your throat
and he’s got you by your money, honey
so get busy, bee
no time to rant, ant
you have no voice
no choice
in the matter
move your feet
pitter patter!
pater noster
our father, who ain’t even here…
meanwhile, you… your life
is but a hail mary pass
do not pass
go
do not collect
any intellect
defect
at your own risk
tisk, tisk, tisk, this is not a board game
this is not over yet!
stay tuned!
subscribe to our low-ball offer
of your common dream
for mere pennies on the dollar ninety-nine!
all you have to do is reach out and
touch faith
fatten up for the slaughter
of your incense
get buffet buff
chow down on the supersized bod of zombie jesus
with corn-syrup bunny ears
and everything will be all right
child
this is not your life anyway
yours is the next one
this one’s for the human gods
in their safety pods
we call castles
there’s dragons in them tarred moats
no feathery light trebuchet speed boats
can cross it in time
the harder they come
the more apple wagon
rockers get vexed, hexed
next!
next!
next!
the doctor will see you now
about the lash gashes that zebra your back
back to work!
we have wind whistles to blow
we have castles to build
with the eternal, shifting flows of sands of time
through saharan eras
across peon aeons
it’ll be the best of castles
it’ll be the worst of castles
but you…
you will not be remembered.
17 March 2009
simply gorgeous photoessay about the ruins of Detroit. click on image to enter…
Lee Plaza in Detroit
6 November 2008
quick and easy instructions:
via: http://keepfightingprop8.ning.com/profiles/blogs/revoke-the-mormon-churchs-tax
If you’re angry that a church can meddle with another state’s political statutes, here’s something that you can do.
To report the LDS Church to the IRS, simply take 5 minutes to print these articles out and any others you can find:
http://www.sltrib.com/ci_10839546
http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_10842051
Then print and fill out http://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-pdf/f3949a.pdf
List the taxpayer as:
Thomas S. Monson, et al
50 East North Temple
Salt Lake City, Utah 84150
List his occupation as President and the business as the ridiculously full name of the church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) at the same address.
Check the boxes for False Exemption and Public/Political Corruption.
Then in the Comments section demand that the LDS Church be fined and their tax-exempt status revoked for repeated and blatant violations of the IRS’s separation of church and state rules, and for conspiring to interfere with a state’s political process.
Check Yes under “Are books/records available?” and write in “campaign finance records.”
You don’t have to provide any of your own personal info.
Mail the form and the printed articles to:
Internal Revenue Service
Fresno, CA 93888
That’s it. Done. Poll’s closed. Book it.
5 November 2008
freepers:
I would like to say: “Welcome back, America.” A lot of us out here feel like Short Round must have felt right after Indiana Jones woke up from the Thuggee cult stupor in the Temple of Doom.
Welcome back.
4 November 2008
some Gmail LOLs, click on thumbnail to see full-sized:
1 November 2008
approprié, erm, 000-000-0000WNED by the Masked Avengers.
“on peut tuer les bébés foques aussi” = “we can kill the baby seals also”
“du rouge à lèvres sur un cochon” = “lipstick on a pig”
audio: http://www.tindeck.com/audio/filestore/w/wwdo-SarahPalin.mp3
story and transcript: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20081101.wqueduo1101/BNStory/usElection2008/home
yeah, Carla Bruni is soooo jealous.
loosely related: http://abcnews.go.com/politics/story?id=3973925
2 September 2008
the checkbox “Allow pages to choose their own fonts and colors” exists in Firefox options. Firefox allows me to uncheck it, and i like seeing the world in Verdana… i do not see an obvious way to choose my own font (and enforce it) in Chrome.
also, the tabs at the top do not allow me to quickly resize the browser window by double-clicking the title bar… i guess i’ll have to change behaviours. lame.
also, we got ourselves a lolgrammur typo on page 15 of the comic that explains what Google Chrome is all about:
i mean, seriously:
1 August 2008
Easy Star All-Stars feat. Toots & The Maytals—Let Down
Beastie Boys–Suco de Tangerina
22 May 2008
It’s 3am PST. I just got home from a midnight showing of Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I was the only person in the theatre (Rio Theatre by Commercial Drive Station in Vancouver) who actually dressed up as Indy, although, to be fair, even I hedged my bets and went as geriatric Henry Jones Jr. III (replete with walking stick and a bent-over, cantankerous gait).
Quick review before I try to catch a wink. It’s a goddamn work night, people.
REVIEW FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET:
You should see it. I mean, who goes to see only 2 movies out of a trilogy or only 3 movies out of a quadwhatever. Brace yourself for a gray Indy with very loose face skin, and brace yourself for “modern” special effects and some pointless CGI, which makes for some scenes where you go “ain’t no way they survived that” or “yeah right, they’re still conscious after that kind of impact.”
Thankfully, though, it’s kept sufficiently on a leash to be able to suspend your disbelief one more time. For old times’ sake. And for a good time. Call on Indy.
REVIEW FOR THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN IT (spoilers!):
It wasn’t as bad as I braced myself for, but could have been better. I mean, aliens? Roswell? 51? Shit that’s “kinda” magnetic, but only sorta? The Nazca lines were a nice touch, but their mention merely superficial. The gophers/prairie dogs/rodents were totally pointless and should have been left on the cutting room floor.
Indy is DEFINITELY too old to be doing this, and the special effects just made things worse. I guess you could say I like things a little more low-tech. Some of those falls appeared buttery soft, like a splish-splash in a bird bath. Seriously now. You don’t just tumble down a Niagara-sized waterfall as if it were a waterslide at some freeway motel. This movie should have been made a decade ago at the latest so that Harrison Ford would be sprightlier and less saggy, and special effects wouldn’t have to be used so extensively. Nor would we need a Henry Jones, Jr. IV to divert our attention from Grampa Simpson’s Ravages of Old Age ™.
Still, for all this whining, it’s worth seeing if you’re in any way an Indiana Jones fan. And who isn’t? No, I don’t want to know those of you who aren’t. It’s got some feverish chase scenes, is good-humoured without too many cheesy lines (though there are some, pointlessly stuck in there as if a Shrek writer walked into a room), and has visual appeal to the Machu Picchu set.
It has some overt references to pop culture and itself, like the giant 51 on the warehouse door, or the Ark itself peeking out of a crate freshly busted open during a pursuit of some other relic. However, more subtle ones are in place also, like the Atomic Café. Or McCarthyist witch hunts. Or a drag race on an arid road out in the desert somewhere, while we wait for the first appearance of the actor known as Bob Falfa in one of his prior incarnations. And that bomb detonation scene kicked ass—which also means that if Indy doesn’t get killed by bullets first, then he’ll most definitely eventually succumb to some kind of radiation exposure-related illness, ridiculous lead-lined fridge ride or no ridiculous lead-lined fridge ride.
All in all, it’s not the best one in the series. In fact, it might be the worst one. But, like Isaac Davis’ orgasms, even the worst one is still right on the money. And to riff off those posters in the office of Murray Hewitt, Deputy Cultural Attaché to NZ, I’d have to sum this one up with: “Don’t expect too much… you won’t be disappointed!”
|
