The Triumvirate of Bland

It's time to get away, it's tiiiiime to get away... from you

2007-09-17T10:12:00.000-05:00

Well, circumstances at work have changed for the better. Unfortunately, as a direct result, I've decided that the blog is going to have to take a permanent back seat. I guess I could let it limp along via infrequent posting, but I'd rather just put it out of its misery now.

So, thanks for the readership. It's been real, and it's been fun, but it hasn't been real fun.

T.O.B. 4/21/2005 - 9/17/2007.

R.I.P.

State of Fear

2007-09-12T13:27:00.000-05:00

Well, I've finally made my way through Crichton's State of Fear; it's the first Crichton I've read in no less than 10 years. I don't know what his personal opinion on catastrophic Global Warming is, but the novel is all about uncovering it as a massive, pseudoscientific scare campaign, employed by power-hungry individuals with seedy political motives.

I've been crunching on salt since I started reading it - Crichton himself readily admits that statistics can be twisted to prove, well.... anything - but nevertheless it's refreshing to hear someone shout "no clothes" for a change. Sane people know only all too well just how wearisome the endless apocalyptic prophecies of the Global Warming Cult can be.

All last week, Morning Edition on NPR ran features on the Arctic, and yesterday All Things Considered did the same. You can guess what they focused on as the major issue there. Now, I don't doubt that the climate is changing near the poles. Hell, I don't even mind people reporting on the effects of climate change. What I do mind is the implication that the truck I am driving whilst listening to your report is somehow responsible for other people's long summers, or the ice shelves calving. Fuck off and get a clue; the dynamic disequilibrium of the universe is bigger than me, and it's certainly much bigger than you.

I wonder what people blamed global climate change on 25,000 years ago when it was fucking cold, and following game herds required them to cross the Bering land bridge into the Land of Plenty.

Unforgivable

2007-09-10T20:12:00.000-05:00

I would pay this guy to be my friend. This is the first in a series.

My first college football notes of the season

2007-09-08T22:43:00.000-05:00

Beginning at 10:45 in the P.M.

1. I'll go ahead and get this one out of the way first. With no disrespect meant towards the victims of the shooting, I am so happy to see V-Tech get the everliving shit kicked out of them. I've fucking hated "Beamer Ball" since the first time I heard the term, and I think they've consistently been one of the most overrated programs during the past 5-7 years. This season, the communal dicksucking they've received from the sports media (cough*ESPN*cough) has been nothing short of sickening. I can't wait until they lose two more games over the course of the season.

2. All I'm gonna say about this one: Dear Greg Davis, Remember the I Formation? I do. Love, Everyone.

3. I think I just invented the perfect poor Mexican's margarita. In a heavily iced glass, pour two shots tequila, one shot brandy, one shot Curacao; fill the rest with Lemon Lime Gatorade. Toss in copious amounts of salt and lime. Mmmmm....

4. This LSU team is good. SCARY fucking good.

5. Aaaand flipping over to ESPN2... Probably the only time I'll ever admit this is after I've consumed several of the aforementioned drinks, but holy fucking shit, Auburn's got some talent. True, nothing will ever change the fact that Texas girls are the best in the world, but there's just something about those Old South gals that gets to me every time. Any time I see a group of three of them in HD, it's instantly love at first sight. During their SEC coverage, CBS usually does a great job of keeping me focused on their hot asses, but I've got to give it to ESPN tonight: they're doing their part. Here's to the great state of Alabama.

6. And to Michigan (in my best Ralph Wiggum voice): Ha ha.

7. Herbstreit just said he's keeping USC at #1 and voting OU into #3; LOOOOO-ser.

Alright, time to start obsessing over my fantasy teams.

Welcome to my world

2007-09-07T16:03:00.000-05:00

Right about now, most of you are probabaly selecting your ritual alcoholic Seppuku weapon. Consider yourselves lucky.

Right now, I get to watch this movie with The Buddy:

Because I hate you all, here's my live blog whilst viewing:

Elmo just said both "pee-pee" and "poo-poo" in the same sentence.

Then his dad said the same.

Oh, Gordon's in this one! It just got a little better.

I fucking hate Elmo. He only speaks baby talk, plus he's an idiot. Grover was INFINITELY cooler than Elmo could ever even dream of being.

Oh gravy - they just used this joke: "Hey, does a bear use the potty in the wooods?" Answer: No, but the pope shits in the woods.

Oh, a song, and here are a few of the choicer lyrics:

pee pee
tinkle
widdle
piddle
wee wee
urinate

doo
poo pah
poo poo
poopie
dookie
caca
doodie
woo woo

That's what the kids are calling #1 and #2 these days.

Grover!!! Grover's in this one!! Grover has "to go!"

Whoever does Grover's voice these days is awful; Frank Oz, he is not.

There's a big purple King Kong-ish character on the screen. "Monkey pee, monkey doo" was the punchline of his segment.

Grover's back. Man his voiceover blizows. Now he's dueting with Elmo. Fuck me.

--------------

This is killing me. Elliot stopped caring, thank Christ.

A few closing thoughts:

My hatred of Elmo knows no bounds. If you want to talk about the dumbing down of America's children, let us begin our discussion with the the little red abortion that is now the fucking star of America's preeminent children's educational television program, and who is ubiquitous on toy shelves in every store in the country.

Witness Grover and Forgetful Jones, my favorite Sesame Street characters ever.

They're pretty much the anti-Elmos.

Frank Oz is the obvious voice of Grover, and we're all familiar with his work. If you are a Muppet aficionado, you will probably recognize Richard Hunt as the voice of Forgetful Jones; Hunt's other well known characters included Sweetums, Scooter, Junior Gorg, Statler, and Beaker. He was legendary.

Elliot wants to ride his bike. Time to go outside.

It's a sunshine day

2007-08-30T10:45:00.000-05:00

Today has all the makings of legendary.

11:50 AM - Lunch will be served out of the trunk of Terry's car, in the basement of parking garage. Lunch will consist solely of Bud Light.

1:05 PM - The Onshore Division is going to the ball game! That's right, the higher ups have armed each of us peons with a ticket and twenty Astros Bucks. This is game three of a 3 game series with Cards. Interestingly enough, Game 1 was a 7-0 blank by the Redbirds, but the Astros managed to return the favor last night with a 7-0 shutout of their own. Today's pitching matchup is Albers-Pineiro, so there should be plenty of action on the hitting front.

Sure, the last place 'Stros are drawing dead right now, but they still have a month's worth of baseball to play spoiler for everyone else in the division.

5:30 PM - Live draft at our VP's house, with my boss, and several other managers. Accompanied by... more beer. And pizza. Something tells me that after 5 solid hours of drinking, this is the probably a very dangerous place for me to be hanging out. Just a hunch.

8:00 PM - Poker at Casa de Siy. Ahh, poker. It's become a weekly cleansing ritual, therapeutic in nature and calming in effect. A good way to wrap up the day (and part with all my cash).

So there it is.

Now I have 45 minutes to wrap up 3 hours worth of work.

Godspeed, friends.

Who is C-Diddy?

2007-08-29T07:28:00.000-05:00

He is a god amongst men. A titan amongst mere mortals. He is the first World Air Guitar Champion from the U.S. of A. He is C-Diddy.

I strongly, strongly, STRONGLY suggest that you rent/watch Air Guitar Nation completely spoiler free (I think it's the only way you'll get the full force of its impact), but if you must get a taste of the pudding before you eat the pie, then witness C-Diddy in all his glorious splendor.

Aww.

Skeet. Skeet.

Motherfucker.

America's Got Talent

2007-08-28T09:49:00.000-05:00

My love of life has just increased +1.

Lucy's Legacy

2007-08-27T13:11:00.000-05:00

Although I can trace my fascination with paleoanthropology (along with all other things paleo) back to early childhood, my first truly scholarly contact with the subject wasn't until high school, when I read Johanson & Edey's Lucy. It's actually one of the first "popular science" type works I can remember reading. For those of you unfamiliar with the work, it is Johanson's vivid and enthralling autobiographical account of finding "Lucy," a three million year old Australopithecus afarensis skeleton. Lucy is uniqe, not only in that she is an ancestor of genus Homo, but also in that she is 40% complete.

Suffice it say, then, that I am very excited about the Houston Museum of Natural Science's newest exhibit, "Lucy's Legacy: The Hidden Treasures of Ethiopia." The centerpiece will by Lucy herself, but the exhibit will also display more than 100 cultural artifacts of Ethiopian origin, including manuscripts and paintings of the ancient Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Our pigeon-holing nature often makes it difficult for us to naturally associate any part of Africa with Christianity, but if I'm not mistaken, Orthodox Christianity is still the most practiced religion in Ethiopia (though I wouldn't be surprised if Islam has overtaken it by now), and it has a wonderfully rich cultural heritage.

The exhibit opens this Friday, and will run through April 2008; tickets are $12 with a student ID. Not to sound hyberbolic, but you really can't beat that price for this once in a lifetime chance to see Lucy. In 30+ years since her discovery, this will mark her first public display outside of Ethiopia - score one for the HMNS!

Gob bless the American League

2007-08-23T08:42:00.000-05:00

Every now and then the Rangers' chronic ineptitude transcends itself, allowing the team to defy the laws of the universe. Awesome.

Someone please tell me you were at least listening to this on the radio when it happened.

Story.

Hurricanes are bad, mkayyy...

2007-08-21T10:02:00.001-05:00

...but I'm not really complaining now that we finally have one in the Atlantic. I've had my tracking chart on the wall for dang near four months now, and I've been itching like crazy to pencil in and color storm movements on it.

Craving satisfied.

Also, Weather Underground is awesome.

My ichthyocentric fixation

2007-08-20T08:26:00.000-05:00

My latest obsession is getting an aquarium set up. I bought The Buddy a Betta last week (he named it Purple), and it's currently living in a gallon vase with a little shrimp named Rick and a moneywort plant - not so great of a life. I just started cycling a 20 gallon rectangular tank, so hopefully in about 3 weeks I'll be able to move them all over to more spacious quarters. Then I think I'm going to get a school of 6 or 8 Harlequin Rasboras and a couple Cory catfish for tankmates. My eventual goal is a 55 or 70 gallon tank with cichlids or maybe a marine setup, but that's a good ways down the line.

When I was younger, we kept guppies for a while. After doing fairly exhaustive research this go round, I've come to realize that I did pretty much everything wrong with respect to fishkeeping back then - overstocking, overfeeding, awful maintenance; I'm sure the ammonia concentration must've been off the charts. The biggest fish we had was named Slack. He used to go through death-resurrection cycles on a weekly basis.

Those of you familiar with the Memorial Acclamation used in response to the Mysterium Fidei may appreciate the fact that my brothers and I used to sing a (probably blasphemous, but definitely irreverent) song about the poor little fish:

Slack has died,
Slack is risen,
Slack will come again.

Gotta love those poor attempts at liturgical humor.

Don't fight it, Richard...

2007-08-17T08:31:00.000-05:00

Meta-irony exists. It's everywhere. We live in a post-modern world, for pity poop's sake.

Embrace the meta-irony. Sign into myspace and drown yourself in it. By recognizing it, you are forever justified in laughing at pretty much everyone in the world.

What an endless source of entertainment.

I hope Squelch doesn't mind me re-printing this:

THAT is wit.

Black Sheep

2007-08-13T11:23:00.000-05:00

I don't know how Black Sheep managed to fly under my radar up until this point, but it looks fucking great.

It's good to see that someone in New Zealand has taken up Peter Jackson's splatstick torch (his Bad Taste and Dead Alive are essential classics for any fan of the genre.)

Looks like it's off to the Angelika sometime this week to check this one out...

The Mexicans are winning

2007-08-09T15:00:00.000-05:00

From an article in today's Chronicle:

Today's Census Bureau data shows the latest population estimates for counties as of July, 1, 2006...

The minority population in [Harris] county is 2.5 million as of July 2006, or 63 percent of the total 3.9 million residents. In 2005, the county's population was 3.7 million.

There were an estimated 1.48 million Hispanics in Harris County in July 2006, or 38.2 percent of the county's total. That exceeded, for the first time, the county's estimated 1.44 million Anglo residents, who make up 36.9 percent of the population.

That marks a significant reversal since 2000, when the Hispanic percentage in Harris was 33; for Anglos it was 42.

The county's Hispanic population now ranks second in the country, tied with Miami-Dade, and behind Los Angeles.

Don't like it? Have more babies!

Philosophia ancilla theologiae.

2007-08-08T14:49:00.000-05:00

From "On Canons:"

...

Most textbooks in the history of philosophy follow what might be called the Sleeping Beauty narrative: Philosophy thrived on its own from the pre-Socratics to Plotinus, at which point the Christian Church intervened with a faith-based philosophy (a contradiction in terms in this telling), at which point philosophy went to sleep until awakened by the Frog Prince Descartes, who kissed the slumbering Lady Philosophy awake with his method of radical doubt, hauling the entire scholastic past before the bar of reason, leaving it in tatters and philosophy finally liberated.

Gilson, however, retorted that, far from poisoning philosophy with a sleeping potion, faith illuminates from above the path reason would follow in any event if it only had a map and a flashlight. Philosophy’s goal has always been the truth, but it has to grope because it can’t see that far ahead. To understand Gilson’s thesis, think of it this way: When one is first studying algebra, say, especially when using one of those teach-yourself books, the problems are given in the front to work out on one’s own, with the answers keyed at the back. Now, if one works out a problem only to discover from the answer key that one got it wrong, one knows then and there that one was wrong but not how or why. For that one needs to go back and retrace one’s steps and see how one can rationally prove both the false step and the true path.

Similarly in philosophy, a Christian already knows on the basis of revelation that materialism is wrong, which means that any philosopher arguing for materialism must have made a wrong step, or more probably several, somewhere along the line. But that fact alone is not enough to refute materialism. One must then put oneself in the shoes of the materialist and walk through his arguments with him and point out his errors by the rules of rational thought and not by revelation.

...

Of course, in viewing philosophy as ancilla theologiae we do not relegate it to a strictly submissive or functional role with respect to theology. Rather, we reaffirm the "necessity of the link between the two sciences and the impossibility of their separation" (see Fides et Ratio).

To use the Maritainian metaphor, the nature of theology is that of guidepost to philosophy; theology illuminates to philosophy paths to follow and potholes to avoid, but it is still up to philosophy to judge its own conclusions based on the rationality of its arguments. The benefit of such a situation is that philosophy is thereby more apt to pursue answers to "higher" questions (questions of a metaphysical nature), rather than be bogged down by the unavoidable (and ultimately pointless) infinite-regression loops associated with postmodernism and decontruction that are, somehow, still all the rage.

["On Canons"]

Blahhrrrr

2007-08-07T14:02:00.001-05:00

When I woke up this morning, the little blue light on my Wii was flashing - system update!

I checked on it before I went to work, and, well, zzzZZZ.

Highlights include a clock on the Wii Menu, enhanced search function in the store, and improved mobility around the Message Board.

Gee, this is great.

To be honest, I've been terribly, terribly disappointed with my Wii. Zelda was an engrossing experience, but it was also 25 hours of gameplay that I have no desire to re-live any time soon. I own Wario Ware, and it seems like it would be fun - if only I had three other people to play with me. Resident Evil 4 and Paper Mario interest me, but I can't seem to muster up the will to spend money on either of them at this point.

Every other game is a shitty movie tie-in or something ridiculous like Chicken Shoot or Cooking Mama. I knew the risk of going with Nintendo again was the danger of being oversaturated with "kiddie" titles, but I really had confidence that they would try and push the envelope a little; this was the system that was code named "Revolution" for fuck's sake. It's tough to revolutionize anything if in almost a year of existence, you've failed to release anything that anyone wants to play.

What has disappointed me the most to this point, though, is the shitty, shitty online experience. Especially after spending so much time on Xbox Live, and loving every second of it, the Wii's online functionality is complete and utter shit. First of all, you have to actually know someone - in real life - before you can add them as a friend and before you can game with them. How many 13 year olds does Nintendo think I know? Contrast this to Xbox, or PS3, or any PC gaming experience in which jumping into a random game where you can talk shit to kids you don't know and will never meet is half the fun.

The Wii Virtual Console is the one thing that Nintendo has gotten closest to right so far, and it's still not quite perfect. They've actually released a decent number of games from their older systems, as well as games from the SEGA, Turbo Grafx 16, and NEO GEO systems. Very, very cool. The bad? Games downloaded from the Virtual Console are only playable off the Wii's built-in 512 MB flash memory. Trust me when I say that those N64 games are memory hogs. Sure, you can transfer games to an SD card to make space for new downloads, but who wants to play memory shuffle with a library of 20 or 30 games.

I know, I know - bitch, bitch, bitch, moan, moan, moan. Hopefully, Mario kart will come out soon, and all my worries will be forgotten.

Oh wait, I still won't have anyone to play with.

Fuck it.

----------

On the lighter side, here's a little toilet humor. I just went to took a piss; there were two other guys already at urinals. The other two guys are taller than I am. There was still an empty urinal, though, so who would come in next to fill it but the shortest guy on the floor - a little guy named Chuck!

And THAT's how slow of a day it's been, folks.

The Sagan Paradox

2007-08-06T13:26:00.000-05:00

It is coincidental that as I now re-read Carl Sagan's Cosmos, I run across this month-old piece from Doublethink about the implicit religiosity of the vocally non-religious Carl Sagan. In a lifetime of writing and lecturing, Sagan's skepticism was never in question; and while he was never as derisive toward religion as the now in vogue antitheists are, even a small sample of his writing yields a potshot here and there.

Sagan's paradox, however, was his unflinching belief in the unproven:

“Those who wished for some central cosmic purpose for us, or at least our world, or at least our solar system, or at least our galaxy, have been disappointed, progressively disappointed,” Sagan said. “The universe is not responsive to our ambitious expectations. A grinding of heels can be heard screeching across the last five centuries as scientists have revealed the noncentrality of our position and as many others have fought to resist that insight to the bitter end.”

For Sagan, science had exposed the nullities behind most traditional human cosmologies. During an exchange with an audience member, Sagan raised the “concept of God as an outsize male with a long white beard, sitting in a throne in the sky and tallying the fall of every sparrow.” “For that kind of god,” Sagan said, “I maintain there is no evidence. And while I’m open to suggestions of evidence for that kind of god, I personally am dubious that there will be powerful evidence for such a god not only in the near future but even in the distant future.”

Sagan’s Gifford Lectures are filled with such statements. Reading through them, however, you are struck by an odd juxtaposition. Sagan spent the lectures heaping criticism on orthodoxy -- but he also spent ample time discussing the search for extraterrestrial life. And here his tone seemed altogether unskeptical. Discussing extraterrestrial intelligence, Sagan said, “We have to be extremely careful.” We must “demand the most stringent and rigorous standards of evidence precisely because we have profound emotional investments in the answer.”

The phrase “profound emotional investments” is a clue to the paradox underlying Sagan’s Gifford Lectures in particular and his worldview in general. That is because, while he never stated so publicly, Sagan believed in the existence of extraterrestrial life. He didn’t believe there was the possibility of extraterrestrial life, the position he took in his writings and public appearances. No. He believed in the fact that there are extraterrestrials. And not Unidentified Flying Objects -- tales of which he worked actively to debunk -- but “superior beings in space, creatures so intelligent, so powerful as to resemble gods,” according to his biographer Keay Davidson. These beings in whom Sagan believed inhabited societies “millions of years old,” wrote Davidson. They had “developed technologies unimaginable to us.” They did not know war and were willing to share their knowledge of the cosmos freely. “In short,” Davidson continued, they were “all powerful, all knowing, all loving.”

This last bit on his belief in the nature of extraterrestrials is made explicit in Contact, in which Ellie has a vision, a revelation, an epiphany - a religious experience - after seeing with her own two eyes evidence of the "breathtaking diversity of beings and cultures..., a vision of a populated galaxy, of a universe spilling over with life and intelligence, [that] made her want to cry."

There are entire chapters in Cosmos, Sagan's most popular and well-known work, as well as in most of his other works, devoted to speculation on where and how extraterrestrial life will be found. Granted, the probability of its existence is favorable: (1 - (1/100 billion)) = 1. I also believe there is life elsewhere in the universe. But for a skeptic and dogmatic empiricist to express a belief in something so uncontroversially unproven, and damn near unprovable (if humanity exists for another 100 million years, I'd say the odds are still stacked against us ever getting our hands on any cold hard evidence) reveals a certain inner dualism.

I mention this not as a critique against Sagan; rather, I understand both his belief in something unproven and his genuine sense of awe - at the universe in general, and humanity in particular - as natural human responses to simple observation. After all, the most basic, primitive, and instinctual religious act one can make is submission to the forces of nature as forces beyond human control. The hyper-empiricism of the Sagan type simply crystallizes this instinct and holds onto as an end, rather than taking it as a starting point for theological discourse; it accepts a materialistic naturalism, but denies a natural law.

The argument that I always think carries most sway is that our very self-awareness and thus our existence is an ontological impossibility in a strictly material universe - the old "you can't get more out than you put in" - but that's a different story for a different day. Even now as I refresh myself on Sagan's writing, I can't help but be impressed by his longing for something - or, more precisely, someONE - out there in the universe that would give him that "Ellie moment" in Contact; the sad part is that a severely dogmatic, and thereby severely handicapping empiricism denied him that awareness during his lifetime.

I'm the Leprechaun!

2007-08-03T08:01:00.000-05:00

Everone's already seen this but me, it seems.

"It could be a crackheaaaad!!"

God bless them.

'Cruelty-free' sex: Rejecting meat-eaters as sexual partners

2007-08-02T15:23:00.000-05:00

First, I will refer you to the University of Canterbury's (*breath*) National Report on the Perspectives and Experiences of Vegetarians and Other Ethical Consumers.

"Ethical Consumers." I like that one.

Based on responses to the survey around which the authors framed this report, one of the authors coined the term "vegansexual" to refer to "people who do not eat any meat or animal products, and who choose not to be sexually intimate with non-vegan partners." In other words, a vegansexual is a vegan who only fucks other vegans.

Here are some vegansexual quotes (and my comments on them) that made their way into the report:

I believe we are what we consume, so I really struggle with body fluids, especially sexually. [As do I, friend; that's why I get uneasy whenever my date orders the tuna melt.]

I would not want to be intimate with someone whose body is literally made up from the bodies of others who have died for their sustenance. ["Jesus, George, it's a miracle I was even born!"]

I couldn't think of kissing lips that allow dead animal pieces to pass between them. [Lucky for you, all you have to kiss and/or pass through your lips to make me happy is my very much alive, and verily throbbing member.]

I imagine that most vegansexuals must be women; after all, the average man can't afford to be this discriminatory. Sure, there are plenty of chicks that I can't fucking stand*, but that just gives me more of a reason to donkey punch them once I've got them in the doghouse. This includes every nubile, young PETA skank who decides that getting naked is an effective means of protesting anything.

Yes, Meredith, I believe that's my final answer. Donkey punches for all. It's the anti-"cruelty-free sex." Boo ya.

*The short list: career driven women, the kind that want two or fewer children, politically outspoken women, the ones who fashion themselves as the "intellectual type," sloppy women, "sexually liberated" women, the ones who treat misogyny as if it were a concrete reality

Encore is Comcastic

2007-08-01T14:06:00.000-05:00

The Houston area cable market recently made the shift from Time Warner to Comcast. Two good things have happened since then: my monthly cable/internet bill is five dollars cheaper, and I now get the Encore movie channels included in my Digital Plus Bullshit Package.

The Encore movie channels are pretty much awesome, but they are wrecking my once rock-solid Netflix schedule. With the 'Flix I make a concerted effort to consume at least 3-4 movies a week, and when I'm running at full capacity I can do so. My problem now is that there is always something so terribly bad yet so terribly watchable on any one of the Encore channels at any given time that I have started cutting into my Netflix time to watch movies on cable.

Just in the last week, I've re-watched or seen for the first time all or part of the following movies (working from memory here, so I'll inevitably miss a few):

Chain Reaction, starring Keanu Reeves and Morgan Freeman
Commando, starring Ahnold and Rae Dawn Chong
The Serpent and the Rainbow, starring Bill Pullman
Opposing Force, starring Tom Skerritt and a very hot Lisa Eichhorn
Eraser, starring Ahnold and Sonny Corleone
P.S., starring Laura Linney and Topher Grace (and which should be renamed P.O.S.)
Say Anything, starring John Cusack and whatever that lame-ass chick's name is
Revenge of the Nerds, starring John Goodman and James Cromwell (er, I mean, Robert Carradine and a bunch of other typically 80's looking nerds and jocks)
Clive Barker's Lord of Illusions, starring Scott Bakula (I fucking love Scott Bakula)

As you can imagine, it's difficult to make it through 49 episodes of Gundam Wing - much less a 380 movie queue - with distractions like these. I'm going to have to start blocking these channels from myself until the weekends roll around.

Speaking of, Netflix's Online Movie Viewer is a fucking godsend for these slow days at work. Hooray, Netflix.

Houston's cash goes to the right place

2007-07-31T14:44:00.000-05:00

Sunday's Chronicle had an interesting little feature about which presidential hopefuls are receiving cash from the Houston area, and how much they are getting. The article notes that residents of River Oaks, the "wealthiest neighborhood in Texas," have so far made a half million dollars worth of political contributions. The two biggest recipients have been Giuliani and Romney, who have each received ~$160-170 thousand. (In Texas, only Highland Park has given more presidential cash.)

Both of those candidates actually received more from Memorial area residents (nearly $335 thousand between the two of them), though that area's overal contributions were just shy of River Oaks'. Montrose - probably Houston's most demographically diverse district (and gay epicenter) - is leading the city in contributions to Dems, with Barack taking the biggest prize there.

I went to opensecrets.com to find out how Friendswood has donated so far. Bewilderingly, Democratic candidates have taken the lion's share of residents' cash here, with Hilary raking in a cool eleven grand, almost 40% of all donations. Then again, one family alone (Buzbee) gave her $9,200 (as well as $4,600 to Edwards). Then again... again, only 18 families have even made contributions, so this sample size sucks ass.

Let's try the old school, the 3-2-5, zip code 76903. That's right, I'm talking about the east side of the SJT.

This is more like it; we've got good ol' Mr. Mertz - cattleman, CPA, board member of just about everything, and stalwart parishioner of Sacred Heart Cathedral - leading the way with $2,300 to McCain. Big bucks get thrown around in San Angelo.

Try your own zip code - it's fun!

Oh my gravy

2007-07-30T14:15:00.000-05:00

I haven't had a free second at work since I got back, which is the reason for massive inactivity on here.

The most exciting thing that happened this weekend was a collective viewing of The Simpsons Movie. Score.

The grindstone is calling my name.

Vacation

2007-07-23T22:40:00.000-05:00

Friends,

I'm at a beach house in Galveston through Wednesday with Maeg and the Buddy, my parents, brothers, sister, and sobrinos. It wasn't until about 3 o'clock this afternoon that I realized it was actually Monday, so we're off to a good start thus far. I'll be back on Thursday, hopefully about 12 shades darker.

Yet another Bad Boys 2 reference?

2007-07-19T15:41:00.001-05:00

If you don't read C.H.U.D. daily, you should. The guys are truly fans first, and critics second, yet still tend to remain a little more level-headed (if not more cynical) than the Harry Crew at AICN. If you haven't gathered from my constant linkage to them, I'm a huge fan of both sites.

Right now, C.H.U.D. is running their list of their Fifty Guiltiest Pleasures. Today, Day 14, gives us Demolition Man and Bad Boys 2. Just what does Devin have to say about it?

Bad Boys II is maybe my ultimate guilty pleasure because I hate movies as stupid as this, and I definitely hate movies as overindulgent as this – just when you think the film is over our leads head to Cuba to decimate a chunk of that country. Actually, I take back the claim that Bad Boys II is stupid: that would indicate there is some sort of thought process behind the film, no matter how insipid. Bad Boys II is pure chaos corralled into cinematic form, full of sound and fury and signifying nothing… except one great fucking time at the movies.

People say that Transformers was the movie Michael Bay was born to make, but I really think that film was Bad Boys II. He takes action choreography to such a new level of amorality and wastefulness – just imagine the costs of the first chase scene, when he even throws a fucking boat into the mix! – that you feel like this is the action spectacle Caligula would have made, except maybe with more horse fucking or something. Bad Boys II is sensation without sense, a film whose sensibility is hyperviolence thats so hyper it's no longer cartoonish but just sort of ugly, a juggernaut of metal on metal and director on audience.

Signature Moment: Will Smith and Martin Lawrence carjack Dan Marino and then engage in a high speed chase with a van that is spitting corpses at them. Dead bodies slam into the windshield and get splattered under the wheels of the car and you realize how unlikely it is that any chase scene will ever top this one in terms of sheer disregard for basic humanity.

Doesn't Michael Bay just look like the kind of guy who would make these movies? I love him.

To give you guys a good example of the sort of sick fan-wit that permeates the styles of most of the contributors, check out this standard bit from Nick. He's writing about Guilty Pleasure #32, Kiss of Death (yes, the David Caruso Kiss of Death):

Signature moment: Helen Hunt, who at the time was still mad about Paul Reiser, is living life on the outside while beau David Caruso counts out his days in the hoosegow. Her reward: slamming death from an oncoming truck. She takes its grille, its engine block, the whole damn load and she takes it hard. Somehow it's heartening to see Helen Hunt get devastated by a truck in the first act of a film. I envision an alternate cut of Twister featuring this intro, followed by two hours Bill Paxton banging the daylight out of Jami Gertz and cranking up some Loverboy on his boom box to drown out the cries of the tornadoes.

Fucking genius. No lie.

Heaven on Earth

2007-07-18T04:28:00.000-05:00

It's been almost two weeks since Benedict released his motu proprio, Summorum Pontificum, in which he granted greater freedom to the use of the liturgy according to the traditional Roman Rite, a.k.a. the Tridentine Mass, a.k.a. the Traditional Latin Mass, a.k.a. the Mass of John XXIII (see my previous post here). If you've followed any mainstream news coverage of the event, one of the criticisms of the traditional liturgy that is cited most often is the use of a prayer (offered one time, during one liturgy per annum) that is perceived to be anti-semitic.

It's a ridiculous notion, especially considering just how much the traditional rite resembles a pre-rabinnic Jewish sacrifice. One of all my all time favorite modern theologians, Scott Hahn, also wrote one of my all time favorite books, The Lamb's Supper. In it, he reminds us of the ancient (and now, nearly forgotten) understanding of the mass as a reflection of the heavenly liturgy, which - as St. John's Apocalypse reveals to us - is a sort of mega-Passover feast, conducted by Christ himself, who is both the Priest King AND the sacrificial lamb. This is why the Eastern and Orthodox Catholics still refer to the mass as the Divine Liturgy. How's all that for Jewish symbolism?

More obviously Jewish in nature to the layman than even the purely theological, sacrifical underpinnings of the mass are its sacramentals. From the vestments to the incense to the candles to the processions to the altar, the Judaic roots of the Catholic worship style are clearly evident. Such an observation seems almost stupidly intuitive; after all, Christ himself, as well as all the apostles, were faithfully Jewish, culturally and religiously. They would've wanted to, and proudly did, maintain a style of worship that they knew and loved.

At this point I must add a caveat. When I say that the Jewish roots of Catholic liturgy are obvious, that's not entirely true. As Nicholas Frankovich reminds us in yesterday's First Things post, it was in an "ecumenical" spirit that the Church, post Vatican II, "reformed the Mass such that the visible and audible distinctions between Mass and the worship services of the mainline Protestant churches were now greatly softened. (Historically, Protestants "inveighed passionately against the Mass, which they saw as overtly Judaic in its tone, structure, and purpose.")

In taking a "step in the direction of Wittenberg and Geneva... and a step away from was Jerusalem," the Church greatly toned down much of this distinctly Jewish-styled ritual and symbolism. Unfortunately, in a worship context, a loss of ritual will without fail lead to a loss of solemnity and reverence. Such, then, is the current state of the Catholic liturgy in many parts of the world, not the least of which is the United States. Ordained and laity alike now seem to have no qualms about changing, scrubbing, our scratching out altogether parts of the liturgy that have been evolving organically for literally millenia.

Predictably, the results of people taking free reign over their liturgy has led to many an abomination. Liturgical dance, "circling around" the altar, drums and electric guitars, holding hands during the Pater Noster. Search youtube for "Halloween Mass" and you'll see what amounts to a literal abortion of liturgy.* Yes, the consecration of the host at that particular mass was technically valid, but God help us all that a bishop would allow something so appalling to take place. The old aphorism "Give them an inch, and they will take a mile" is applicable in spades here.

[Aside: my own local parish offers something called a LifeTeen mass which, though not nearly on the same scale of bad as the Halloween mass, is still, by no measure of the word, reverent. The last time I checked, a hundred seventeen year old girls in shorts and spaghetti strap tank tops were pretty damn distracting, and in no means conducive to worship. Oh well, at least it's not sacrilegious.]

This, then, is why we rejoice when restrictions on celebrating the old rite are loosened; the mass is truly heaven on earth, and should be celebrated as such. There is a great longing for that symbiotic reverence and awe that come naturally with celebrating according to ancient custom. The "faith of our fathers" is only that much more powerful when we can also worship according to the ritual of our fathers, and our spiritual father remains Abraham. All this mess about the old rite being anti-semitic? Hogwash.

*Or, just watch it here. Highlights include some sort of horned devil distributing the Body of Christ, and the priest changing into a Barney costume before the Ite, Missa est. God bless the children.

And then compare it to a Traditional Latin Mass:

And it's clear we've got a continuity issue.

In-n-out

2007-07-17T12:47:00.000-05:00

Well, friends, I was about to sit down and write a post-lunch something or another, but I just got recruited to drive the quarterly review presentation we are giving El Presidente del Compañía Producción. Face time with big bosses = good; not getting to watch Netflix at work = bad.

That means all I have time for is a youtube post. I can't remember if I already put this up or not, but it's worth a second viewing if I have.

Sweet!

A momentary lapse of reason, or antitheism and me

2007-07-16T13:10:00.001-05:00

During this weekend's obligatory 'til-the-sun-comes-up, drunken, religio-political conversation, the antitheism of of Christopher Hitchens was discussed (if that's an appropriate word to use) in heated and sloppy fashion. It's somewhat coincidental, then, that in my first five minutes of internet perusal this morning, I ran across a Wall Street Journal editorial blasting Hitchens as a particular proponent of "The New, New Atheism."

But then again, maybe it's not so coincidental; Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, and several other prominent antitheists have been waging an unabashedly militant reverse-jihad against religion for what seems like a good while now, and they've enjoyed a decent amount of media coverage. If I remember correctly, it was fairly recently that Dawkins even had his own miniseries on the BBC used to promote his book, The God Delusion.

As Berkowitz notes, atheism in itself is nothing new. What is novel about Dawkins, Hitchens, et al, he says, is how militant their particular strain is. Again, they are antitheists, in that they not only do not believe in a god, but they maintain that any belief in any god is dangerous to humanity. Science and a deeper knowledge and understanding of the natural world have ruled out God as a creator, so that a continued belief in him is madness.

It's not difficult to follow the sequence of events that led to the West's current wholesale investment in determinism and hyper-rationalism. What is difficult is determining what it will take to overthrow them as the dominant philosophies*. It is terribly damaging (not to mention terribly uncharitable) to society when, with almost universal agreement, academia brushes off religion and belief in god as ludicrous. For one thing, any theological question is [definitively] outside the scope of philosophy in general, and is [without any shred of a doubt] far, far, far beyond the scope of natural science in particular.

Berkowitz:

Even were he to concede that religion doesn't poison everything, Mr. Hitchens presumably still would cling to his claim that the findings of modern science prove that God does not exist. Thanks to the knowledge we have attained of how the natural order actually operates--in particular the discoveries of Charles Darwin and modern physics--he concludes that "all attempts to reconcile faith with science and reason are consigned to failure and ridicule."

This conclusion, however, contradicts that of the late Stephen Jay Gould, to whom Mr. Hitchens himself refers as a "great paleontologist" and whose authority he invokes in support of the proposition that randomness is an essential feature of evolution. Noting surveys that showed that half of all scientists are religious, Gould commented amusingly that "Either half my colleagues are enormously stupid, or else the science of Darwinism is fully compatible with conventional religious beliefs--and equally compatible with atheism."

These lines are quoted in "The Dawkins Delusion," by Alistair McGrath, who holds a doctorate in molecular biology from Oxford, where he is now professor of historical theology, and by his wife Joanna Collicutt McGrath, who studied experimental psychology at Oxford and is currently a lecturer in the psychology of religion at the University of London. According to the McGraths, Gould was correct to think that both conventional religious belief and atheism are compatible with natural science, in part because "there are many questions that by their very nature must be recognized to lie beyond the legitimate scope of the scientific method." Such questions--toward which the mind naturally wanders, though it is susceptible to ambush by the crude scientism of which Mr. Hitchens occasionally avails himself--include: Where did the universe come from, and is it governed by purpose?
This isn't even close to the most comprehensive criticism of Hitchens I've read lately, either; everybody's got one, and with good reason. I'm far too busy (read:lazy) to dig up some of the better ones, but that's why Google was invented for you.

*Unless you are holding out for Monumentalism, but I think we all know it's got a few fatal flaws of its own.

----------------------------

Ken, thanks again for the party. It was, and always is, good to see all yous guys.

My fingers are bleeding

2007-07-11T15:58:00.000-05:00

After a failed attempt at beating Freya on Expert at Mango's last week, and after wallowing miserably in the subsequent shame, I've been on a mission. It only took me four full hours of attempt/failure iterations, but I finally beat it again. Although I was at that point experiencing post-coital levels of exhaustion and fatigue, I was so inspired that I played through the entire next two setlists (with the notable exception of the Bird).

So anyway, now I'm once again properly prepared to conquer and impress with my shredding skillz. Bring it.

Here's what I was struggling with for so long:

And here's the impossible:

Cloverfield / 1-18-08 / Ethan Haas / Slusho!

2007-07-10T15:26:00.000-05:00

Before Transformers, they showed a trailer for a JJ Abrams movie (not Star Trek, pretty sure). It didn't give a title, but everyone's referring to it as either "1-18-08," or it's code name, "Cloverfield."

Watch the teaser in glorious HD here.

I really dig the intensity of the shakycam style; if they do the whole movie like that, it looks to have a lot of potential.

People have been speculating that the alternative reality game Ethan Haas Was Right may possibly be connected to Cloverfield (check its Wikipedia entry for the reasons why). I've spent a solid two hours at the EHWR website trying to make my way through the puzzles, as the last two have been especially challenging. After you solve each puzzle, you are treated to a video from "Van Mantra," who tells you about the apocalyptic prophecies of Ethan Haas and about organizing some sort of resistance group to the impending doom.

The speculation may amount to naught, however, as Abrams has sent a note to Fat Harry at Aint It Cool saying that EHWR is in fact NOT in any way linked to Cloverfield. Is he for real, or just trying to throw us all off the scent? As with most things, only time will tell (August 1, according to Van!).

Ah, viral marketing. Most of the time it's lame and far too self-aware, but when it's really on, it's pretty fucking cool.

Links:

Official 1-18-08 site.
Ethan Haas Was Right
Ethan Haas Was Wrong

And the five messages from Van at EHWR, rolled into one:

UPDATE: New linkage found between all this business and Slusho! Read about it at CHUD.

Live Circle Jerk

2007-07-09T10:25:00.000-05:00

"We are in a transition time in history when the only way we can get to where we need to be is by starting from where we are."

Read that again.

One more time.

That was Algore, the greatest intellectual of the modern era, speaking in Bushism about why it was necessary to fly rock stars around the world for some sort of awareness concert that was held this weekend.

I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I watched the live feed for about half an hour. I caught the tail end of a mildly entertaining Brazilian act, got up and took a shit during a short film they showed, then nearly threw up when Fall Out Boy appeared at Giants Stadium and started playing that one song they do. Nothing inspires me to change my consumption habits more than Fall Out Boy.

I didn't even realize this was going on until my buddy Jason told me about it last week. (Then again, apparently no one did. Oh wait, never mind, people knew about, but we're just chalking up the poor attendance to global warming.) I asked him today if he watched it; predictably, he said he enjoyed most of it. He told me he even started unplugging everything at his house - excepting the refrigerator and alarm clock - when he wasn't using them. If I didn't like him so much, I would officially de-friend him.

I'm always simultaneously angered, saddened, and sickened that masses of people lack enough principle and moral perspective that for them one the most "important" causes they can focus their conviction on is fucking climate change. Christ Almighty. As if 1.3 million babies weren't aborted in the U.S. alone last year. You really reach the lower throes of depression when you are forced to watch young people try to get worked up for a cause this asinine, just so they can pat themselves on the back and say "I helped!"

All this to say nothing of the fact that there is nothing in the world more annoying than a singer or actor getting off their political jollies. (Of course, Ahnold is the one exception to this because HE'S FUCKING CONAN.) Seriously though, SHUT UP. I want to like you Kanye West - you fucking rock - but you're also a fucking idiot, and it's hard to disassociate that inconvenient truth (zing) when I am listening to your music. Et tu, Bloc Party?? Fuck me.

Further reading:

The Daily Mail gives us the lowdown and lays the smack down on Live Earth's carbon footprint, among other aspects of the event -

The total carbon footprint of the event, taking into account the artists’ and spectators’ travel to the concert, and the energy consumption on the day, is likely to be at least 31,500 tonnes of carbon emissions, according to John Buckley of Carbonfootprint.com, who specialises in such calculations.

Throw in the television audience and it comes to a staggering 74,500 tonnes. In comparison, the average Briton produces ten tonnes in a year.

Go fucking figure.

Also, Mark Hemingway at NRO gives us live blogging action, entitled "Living Through Live Earth... Or testing the limits of human awareness." It's thoroughly entertaining, plus he forms a sharp Tipper conspiracy theory.

Damn you, Michael Bay.

2007-07-05T08:22:00.000-05:00

The beauty of the internets is that someone, somewhere has already written something that corresponds exactly with what you think, and probably better. This is especially true about reviews.

I didn't read any reviews of Transformers before we went on Tuesday night; I thought I'd try and maintain some element of suspense. I've only read two so far - Harry's and Quint's on AICN - and I think I can stop reading now. Quint says it all, and with far greater detail than I ever would've used.

I can't remember the last time I saw a movie that left me this befuddled that it actually existed. Now I know how your parents felt when they took you to see TRANSFORMERS THE MOVIE. "Well, I guess this is what kids like now. Huh." ...

I know it's not fair to drop the B&R bomb, it's like comparing people to Hitler in political discussion. But TRANSFORMERS is honestly approaching BATMAN AND ROBIN proportions of horribleness. You can't say it's as bad, because the lighting is nice and nobody's wearing rubber fetish costumes or pink gorilla suits, but it's a similar type of minding-numbing machine gun barrage of moronic, inept garbage. And it goes on for almost 2 1/2 hours, longer than some interrogations...

I can't see enjoying this on anything other than an ironic or anthropological "human beings really made this!" type level. No matter how it plays this summer, this movie is so full of bad taste and "what the fuck?" moments that I do believe it will live on. Ten or fifteen years from now, when some theater in a college town plays it as a double feature with ROADHOUSE, it will absolutely kill.
The only way I differ from him is that I thought many of the jokes in the movie were actually funny, and I did find myself laughing out loud and having a good ol' time during about the entire first half of the movie. Especially during the masturbation joke. Maybe I was delirious because it was so late at night, or maybe I still have the maturity of a 13 year old. Probably both. Regardless, read on, if you so wish to be spoiled, because Quint nails it.

P.S. Megan Fox is unfuckingbelievably hot in this movie. If Tito wouldn't have been sitting next to me, I probably would've rubbed one out. Several times.

P.S.S. Two other ways I disagree with Quint, but that don't have to do with this movie: I was entertained by Bad Boys 2, and I loved Armageddon. And I'm talking LOVED. As in, I fucking cried when Bruce Willis took Ben Afflek's spot on the suicide run.

"Harry!!!"

God bless it.

Kruk-head

2007-07-03T11:02:00.000-05:00

I fucking love it.

John Kruk's hair has been on fire this season, and The Sports Hernia has documented it all.

First up, the "Barry Melrose-do complete with Giambi gel slop":

Next, the "Perm Jailbreak":

And finally, though we hate to end on a down note, the "Low Flow Shower Head":

Get out of this funk, Kruk!

The Sports Hernia

A Catholic in name only

2007-07-02T14:00:00.000-05:00

The Village Voice carried a well-detailed piece about Rudy G's Catholicism, or rather, lackethereof.

It is ironic that the most visible Catholic politicians are also those who consistently take firmly anti-Catholic stances on just about every moral issue in the book. Of course, there is a historical basis for their left-leaning tendencies; until only recently (1973) Catholics voted Democrat by default, without fail.

In fact, just the specter of the once-real, historical Catholic-Democrat tie is binding enough that, even today, Democratic candidates have the audacity to proclaim their Catholicism as essential to their identity or informative upon their conscience. The tragedy is that immigrants and minorities, the closest thing to real life pawns in political chess, continue to vote Democratic, even though they themselves are firmly pro-life and pro-family. Ignorance is not bliss.

Whatever. I'm just sick of people who have no business calling themselves Catholic doing so, and doing so for political gain.

Like I say, though, good write up on ol' Rudy.

A "Well then," and then a saga

2007-06-28T10:04:00.000-05:00

It's times like these when I feel my salary is actually justified. I've probably done more work in the past 2 weeks than I've done in the entire first 6 months of 2007. I finally hit a lull, though, so now it's back to blog action.

-----------

Last Friday, the battery in my piece of ass phone died. This is the phone that I bought in January, after I drop kicked my old one in Maine in a drunken rage (I think two months later Frankie called me and told me he found half of it behind the couch).

So anyway, my battery's dead, but I've only had this thing for five months. I go to the Verizon store, tell them my story, and inform them that the battery needs to be replaced. The kind woman in turn informs me that she can sell me a new battery at a 50% discount. I tell her to shove it up her ass, and we reach stalemate.

Eventually, I get around to letting her know that I was planning on upgrading next month, when I will be eligible, so spending any more money on this piece of shit phone would be essentially flushing it down the toilet. She conveniently remembers now that it's now 20 months instead of 22 before you're eligible for an upgrade - "Mr. Blackwood, you've actually been eligible since last month!" (suuuuuuuure).

So it all worked out, because I really was going to upgrade next month, but instead of having to wait until then, I have a new phone now. I'd been doing some minor research and I knew I either wanted a Treo 700p or a Blackberry 8800 (Verizon doesn't offer the Curve). After checking both of them out in the store, I was leaning toward the 8800 (Treo looked and felt too clunky), when out of nowhere the 8830 caught my eye. Why hello, there... Your silver.. it's soooo much sleeker than the black... plus you come with a SIM card... Hmmm...

I sped home, and immediately checked Cnet's editorial and user reviews for the 8830. I was sold. While I raced back to the store, I tried to do some math. The advertised price was $299 with contract extension, but then you got a $100 mail-in rebate with that. Feasible. When I got back to the store and started through the checkout process, I made sure to tell the guy who I worked for, because I know that we get a corporate discount.

When it was all said and done, I had charged $219 to my credit card, and still ended up with a $100 mail-in rebate form. Huh? Confused, but obviously not upset, I grabbed my shit and hauled ass. I'm pretty sure I somehow ripped off Verizon. Those bastards deserve it.

Anyway, how's the device, you ask? I'm loving it. This is my first taste of Crackberry, and I'm just about an addict already - the OS is as slick as a 12 year old's taint. Obviously, the first thing I did was sync my email addresses, which worked like a charm. The beauty of having my work email synced is that I also get my Outlook calendar constantly synced on my device. Possible upgrade in overall self-organization? Check.

The device has decent enough multimedia playback capabilities, but in all honesty, whether or not I can watch a movie or view photo albums on anything portable is never a factor in my decision to purchase. [Aside: I'm just not a big fan of the portable, all in one device, in general. Maybe it's because I'm already a Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none myself, and so I demand that any technology I implement be an actual upgrade to my way of life, i.e. be highly specialized. Even the Iphone, with all its aesthetic appeal, looks uber-gimmicky to me.]

What I was really looking for was a device with superior email functionality, and there's just no arguing that RIM has that corner of the market absolutely owned. The push connectivity is really. freaking. awesome. Also, I'm sorry, but QWERTY keyboard is the way to go. Sure, like any unfamiliar terrain, the keyboard on the 8830 takes some getting used to (there's no space at all between keys), but after minimal practice, I'm probably typing somewhere around 300 words per minutes now - maybe even 400. And lest we forget, as in the 8800, the 8830 has a freaking clickwheel for menu nevigation.

Holler back at ya fuckin' boi.

Third party software I've downloaded so far includes the Opera Minibrowser (internet), Google Maps Mobile, and Beyond411 (an amazingly versatile 411-ish search tool). I've also installed PocketMac on the Powerbook, which is sync software that came bundled with the device. It's two way, and fairly straightforward and obvious. I'm thinking about trying out Missing Sync, though.

I only have a couple gripes so far, but they're both faults of Verizon. First is the company's decision to DISABLE THE FUCKING GPS. Yes, there is a GPS receiver built into the device, yet I can't use it. At all. I've read things about it being enabled in the future (for use with Verizon's own navigation software, of course), but I'm not holding my breath until then. How the hell do you disable a killer feature like this???

The other thing that is pretty lame is that Verizon won't let me send or receice MMS texts. I bought the phone knowing that it didn't have a camera (again, I could really care less about having a camera phone), but fully aware that it could still at least send/receive picture and other multimedia texts. Apparently I was mistaken - Verizon has also disabled the 8830's MMS capability. Assholes. The workaround is to have people text pictures to my email, but that's an inconvenience. Sigh...

Like I said, two gripes, but against the carrier, not the hardware itself. The device is freaking awesome. I will most definitely NOT be dropkicking this one in drunken stupors, or throwing it against the wall after the Longhorns lose.

Long story short, the moral is this: if you are going to text me porn, text it to my email, so I can actually receive it: punkrockervince at gmail dot com.

Kthxbye.

The relentless human spirit

2007-06-22T09:21:00.000-05:00

A man continued to unsheath the meatsaber after being stabbed. Twice. You can't write this stuff.

Thanks to Cole for sending us the story.

In case you haven't been able tell, work has been keeping me ridonkulously busy this week. Next week will be more of the same. Hooray.

Legion of Rock Stars

2007-06-19T18:06:00.000-05:00

You like music, huh? You like bombastic, guitar-driven music from the 70's, 80's and 90's, right? Due to your love of music, you would immensely enjoy the experience of being in a band, but don't quite have the chops for it? Well, allow yourself the experience in four easy steps (note: this is a slight plagiarism of a Stereogum post I can't believe I missed.)

1. Gather a group of friends who think they can play the requisite instruments for a standard 4-piece rock group.
2. Buy 30 db noise-cancelling headphones for all involved.
3. Have everyone listen simultaneously to one of your favorite songs through their headphones and have everyone play along on their respective instruments.
4. Record the results and set to the original videos for massive YouTube consumption.

Legion of Rock Stars kindly have examples of the ensuing wonder:

Billy Idol!

Pearl Jam!

And the stadium classic, Journey!

Disclaimer: You might want to listen with headphones.

Day old reflections

2007-06-18T12:18:00.000-05:00

To me, one of the biggest challenges in raising a son is raising him to be manly. Not stupidly manly, but virtuously manly - just, courageous, excellent. The English word "virtue" is derived from the latin virtus, from the latin vir, the word for man. Virtus, then, signifies courage and manliness in general. So virtuosity is manly by definition.

Something I've always recognized as glaringly obvious is that I'm not as manly as my father. Then again, his father - my grandfather - is Teddy Roosevelt reincarnate, so I imagine that my father must've felt the same way I do at some point in his life.

Regardless of how I think I turned out, I am forever appreciative of my dad for the manly instinct he was able to ingrain in me; though my shortcomings as both a man and a father be many, it is only thanks to him that I am even able to recognize them as such, and thanks to him that I have an ideal to strive for.

Marching through fatherhood, I continue to grow and mature, literally, every day, and every day, concurrently, I feel myself becoming more and more like my dad. I believe it was Kirk who articulated that the conservative impulse is a man's desire to walk in the paths that his father followed. I am conservative to the very core of my being.

Healthcare Crisis! Your Children Will Die!

2007-06-17T17:59:00.000-05:00

I'm supremely embarassed that the source of the most blatant, arm-crossed entitlement-complex idiocy is Asian. At least it's a girl. And, yeah, I giggled a little bit when the film maker faced the camera, shoulders slightly askance in portrait position, and gave the political punchline, but it's succinct and cleanly produced if not edited like a Daily Show interview. There's some great nuggets during the credits. Don't miss 'em!

"And honestly, I feel it's ridiculous that we live in a first-world country where I have to pay for basic healthcare." Shit on me.

Thank Christ I don't live in Katy

2007-06-13T10:09:00.000-05:00

Seriously. Every morning while I'm driving and I hear the traffic report, that's pretty much exactly what I say. Same thing for the afternoon drive home.

This week, Forbes named the Katy Freeway/West Loop interchange as the second worst traffic spots in the nation (...and this picture was taken when Mrs. Reagan was first lady of the NATION; not of California...). The mag cites the spot as being responsible for 25+ million hours of delay each year. I'm really not surprised; the entire freeway is always a damn clusterfuck. With multiple pending lane and ramp closures due to construction, it's only going to get worse before it gets better.

Let's go to the map.

Nine times out of ten, if I'm on the Katy Freeway (I-10 west out of downtown), I'm on my way to Austin. Four out of those ten, I have Elliot with me. The good thing about small children and babies is that they count as people, meaning that his being in the car entitles me to hop on and ride in the HOV lane. Money, baby. I love zooming past those suckers crawling at 1.5 mph in 103 degree heat on a Friday afternoon. Fuck you, clowns!

I still don't understand why more people, especially those in the suburbs, don't utilize mass transit, or at least carpooling. Just thinking about how much gas money I would burn through in a month if I drove all the way downtown every day makes me want to puke. Hell, you can get a (literally) free ride every day if you just go wait at any Park and Ride long enough. People who are running late for work or who just want to avoid traffic are always looking for sluggers so that they themselves can ride in the HOV lane. Slugging is fucking AWESOME.

In short, traffic sucks and Metro rocks.

At all costs, avoid "The Top 10 Least Satisfying Driving Experiences in Houston."

With Leather wins...

2007-06-11T13:42:00.000-05:00

...for providing us with linkage to Amanda Beard!

Go now!

Now, everyone say a prayer that it won't be long until Stokke takes her turn...

Lazy Youtube blogging, I know, but this is worth it

2007-06-07T12:57:00.000-05:00

"It's all come full circle!" Return of the Prog Rock!

2007-06-06T13:51:00.000-05:00

Dear Sir or Madam,

I formally request that the following be the Video of the Week for the remainder of the week.

Sincerely,

Toonie

Battles - Atlas

Battles is rock and fucking cyborg roll.

Now watch this shit live.

Yes. Fucking yes.

Allmusic
Pitchfork
Metacritic

Cathedrals of the Game

2007-06-05T08:42:00.000-05:00

Every now and then, INHD runs a series called "Cathedrals of the Game." It's a good watch, but the title is more than a little ironic (if not outright preposterous), as more than half of the 15 or so parks they tour are named for a corporate sponsor (Minute Miad, Safeco, PNC, etc.) I can't imagine ever going to mass at Ignatius Press Parish or St. Domino's Basilica.

In that vein, read this from the Lion and the Cardinal:

I mentally compiled a short list of immediate changes in policy that I would make were I the owner of a baseball team, to dramatically improve the experience of watching the game. Bear in mind, of course, that doomed contrarian anachronism accounts for a healthy nine-tenths of my opinions on all subjects.

1) Tear out all the JumboTrons and electronic scoreboards. These more than anything poison the experience of watching live sports. If a man wants to watch TV, he can stay home.

2) Forbid all canned rock music. The ballpark organ exists for a reason. Make the organist earn his living.

3) Impose a dress code. Sport jackets and straw hats for men, ankle length sun dresses for women. Just like it was back in the good old days when the world was sane.

4) Accept as much advertising as necessary, but mandate that it all be designed in an old-timey graphic style, reminiscent of the late 19th or early 20th century.

5) Sing all the verses to Take Me out to the Ball Game, not just the chorus. And by the way: the word is never: nnnnnnnever. There is a consonant at the beginning of that word. Nobody is allowed to act smart and claim that there is a double negative in the song. The words are being sung in the voice of Katie Casey, who is pleading her gentleman-caller to take her to the ball game. She is not currently at the ball game. When she says that she does not care if she nnnnnnnever gets back, she means that she would be perfectly content to remain at the ball game forever. This may be hyperbolic, but it is clearly what the songwriter intended.

After that I would begin gathering funds for the Gothic Revival ballpark. It would include a copper roof with numerous turrets (sort of a cross between the old South End Grounds and Craigievar Castle); tympana over the entrances surrounded by niches for statues of fondly remembered players; functional gargoyles caricaturing famous opponents; a tower hung with change-ringing bells to be pealed upon victory; a manual scoreboard vaguely resembling a winged altarpiece; and an astronomical clock with automata that reënact great plays from team history on the hour. And possibly a bear pit out among the center field foliage, like they have in Old Bern.

Now, what is the obvious analog to a traditionalist revival of ball parks? A traditional revival of church buildings, of course. Fr. Z connects all the dots. Great stuff.

I would choose to worship at the Polo grounds, with Vin Scully presiding and doing play-by-play of The Catch. Afterwards, The Babe would perform an exorcism on Ty Cobb while Harry Caray chants "Holy Cow, Holy Cow, Holy Cow..."

Also, "doomed contrarian anachronism accounts for a healthy nine-tenths of [his] opinions on all subjects?" By all means, ditto.

I'm going to Catholic heaven

2007-06-04T13:12:00.000-05:00

"Well then I'd like to speak with Jesus."
"I'm afraid he's gone native..."

I get wet

2007-06-01T08:43:00.001-05:00

Frankie is a D.A. Supreme irony.

---------------------

I almost pissed myself last night on the bus home. Seriously.

After a certain time of night, the commuter buses combine three routes into one, and so makes three times as many stops as normal. Of course, my stop is at the end of the fucking line when this is the case. Here's a map for reference:

The distance from dowtown to my stop, the Fuqua Park and Ride (Point 3), is approximately 17 miles. Points 1 and 2 are other park and rides that normally have their own line of service, but get lumped into the late night, super-route. During peak morning and evening hours, however, it's just a straight shot for me down to Fuqua, no other stops in between.

Anyway, by the time I caught the bus downtown last night to head home, it was after seven, so that meant I was going to be stopping at Points 1 and 2. Strike 1. Additionaly, the logistics of reaching Point 1 are such that the bus has to forego the HOV lane, translating to a slower overall average rate of transit. Strike 2. Finally, from the moment I walked out of my office, my bladder let me know that it was preparing for evacuation. Strike 3.

By the time we reached Point 1, I knew that I was in trouble. Like an idiot, I was sitting at the back of the bus, and the steady rumble and vibration of the engine directly below me was working wonders in exacerbating the situation. I quickly tuned the Ipod to the Blue Album, something I knew I could sing along every word, to try and take my mind off the pain and the pressure. It didn't work a lick.

When we crossed 610, which is a couple miles before Point 2, I knew I wasn't going to make it. The guys next to me and in front of me were asleep, so I figured they would never know if I whipped it out and pissed in the back corner; however, the elderly woman up and over a row probably would know, and probably would mind.

I decided that I would have to make an exit at Point 2. It is several miles away from the Fuqua Park and Ride, so I would basically be stranded there, but I couldn't physically hold it anymore by that point. I was literally bouncing and rocking in my seat, tugging at my dick that had now shrunken so far in it was practically inverted. I bounced so hard that I woke up the brother in front of me.

As soon as the bus stopped, I ran the fuck out. I was already unzipping my pants before I made it off. The second I made it to solid ground, I took three strides to make it 10 yards to a bench, and released the fucking pressure. The bus hadn't left yet. I didn't turn around to see if anyone was watching me, but one can only imagine.

Uncle Tito came and picked me up. He is my knight in shining armor.

The end.

Hotness

2007-05-30T10:09:00.001-05:00

Star Wars quietly turned 30 last week (at least it seemed quiet by media coverage standards). All week long, the fanboy internet experienced a collective circle jerk (I was stuck between a fat, balding thirty-five year old who lives with his mother, and Kevin Smith), the climax of which was Olivia Munn donning slave-girl Leia garb for a very special episode of Attack of the Show.

Good grief, she is fit. Her Wonder Woman always did a little something for me, but holy bejeezus. Nerdgasm, indeed.

Full gallery.

The Monster Pig

2007-05-29T10:04:00.001-05:00

Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

Remember that giant catfish from a few years back that they caught somewhere in Southeast Asia? Well, this is wayyyyy cooler.

IT'S A MONSTER PIG!

Fuckin' A!

Official site.
AP article.

The infamous wheelchair scene

2007-05-25T09:21:00.000-05:00

Classic.

Also, if you've got a solid stomach, try watching this. Rosie vs. Elisabeth, Part 87.

Elisabeth Hasselbeck is hot. I mean fucking HOTT. And she wins. And Rosie is a cunt. So is the red haired lady.

Quoi?!?

2007-05-24T15:02:00.000-05:00

New He-Man Movie?!

I am nearly speechless. Dolph would be rolling over in his grave if he were dead.

The critics are schizophrenic

2007-05-24T01:10:00.000-05:00

I was drunk two nights ago when I consumed Del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth, and I am definitely tanked now as I finish Aronofsky's The Fountain. Let me say up front that I LOVED both of them. The critics, on the other hand, don't agree with me. Both The Metacritic and Rotten Tomatoes show a striking disparity in their favor of the two films, with an overwhelming majority on both sites being in favor of Pan's Labyrinth.

I can honestly say I don't follow the logic; after all, both are the same film under different guises. Both rely heavily upon the premise that physical life and its inseparable sufferings are only the gateway to an eternal destination (which is very potentially blissful). Perhaps it is Pan's emphasis on present suffering, as opposed to The Fountain's emphasis on both the timeless and eternal, that nabbed the critics' love. I honestly can't claim to comprehend.

Suffice it to say that both films are the cream of the crop for 2006 (and as my Netflix friends who have suffered through all my two-cent reviews well know, I've tried to consume a substantial chunk of the year's critically well-fared). For surely, there were more entertaining films, but none were able to both challenge the viewer on life and post-life issues and transcend fleeting, contemporary politics as these two did.

As icing on the cake, both are also among the most stylistically superb of the year. You owe it to yourself to track them both down, and, if not purchase them, view them at least once. They are both excellent examples that film is not quite an irrelevant medium.

Good grief, I'm hammered.

Next stop, Apocalyptico.

Oooooh, general surgery

2007-05-23T15:12:00.000-05:00

I've been tracking this ongoing series of posts on Surgeonsblog to see if it would be worth sharing with you, my beautiful laypeople, and it's proven itself. So far he has written five posts starting from scrubbing in on a sigmoid colectomy. Basically, the procedure involves opening you up, digging out your sigmoid colon (right before the rectum and right after the descending colon on your left side), cutting the problematic portion of it out, and connecting the new ends, creating a 'C' where once was an 'S'.

For me, obviously, it's especially fascinating in that I might one day be doing this to some poor (deserving? Blame the victim!) deviant who has perforated his colon during an exuberant bout of anal spelunking. That sense of wonder lacking, it's still pretty fucking cool to take in such a candid first-hand account from the guy digging around in your guts.

Preamble
Cutting In
Parting the Curtain
Packing for the Trip
Getting to the Nitty Gritty

The Real Men of Genius do Houston

2007-05-23T07:38:00.000-05:00

Sweet.

Pete Stacker is a voiceover god. You know him from everywhere. The guy with all the soul and the killer earring is Bickler. Look unfamiliar? Maybe you'll recognize him here...

So not gay.

The gay cowboy from 10 Things I Hate About You

2007-05-22T11:06:00.001-05:00

I've jerked off to Batman Begins so many times now, I'm pretty sure my dick is going to fall off by the time The Dark Knight comes out NEXT summer...

C.H.U.D.

Babies are good, mkay

2007-05-21T13:19:00.000-05:00

I don't remember exactly what spurred it, but I think it was on the last, now long-defunct, blog I had that I posted that currently about 90% of children with Down Syndrome aborted once their (loving) parents learn of their child's condition (thank you prenatal screening). How ironic that such a barbaric trend is only sustainable in this current age of advanced technology. On the heels of a recent recommendation from the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists that all mothers should be "screening" for Down Syndrome, not just those over 35, as had been the norm, that 90% looks to be going nowhere but up.

The NYT has a remarkably honest, in-focus piece about parents of Down Syndrome children, and their reactions to both the current abortion statistics and ACOG's recommendations. The article presents the parents as being on a united front against aborting children on the sole basis that they have Down Syndrome. The reasons covered run the gamut from pragmatic (fewer DS children in the future translates to fewer oportunities and more isolation in the future for their own children) to ethical (after all, isn't this eugenics?).

The parents have set out to educate prospective parents as well as doctors. The parents that DS doesn't prevent people from living full, rewarding lives. The doctors that beginning a diagnosis for DS with "I'm sorry" or "Unfortunately, I've got some bad news" is ill-advised, at best.

Anyway, read the article.

This one is also worth your time.

Whatever your views on abortion, there is no denying that 90% is fucking disgusting.

While we're on topic, let me just throw this out here. I try not to even discuss abortion with anyone who denies the human personhood of a fetus. If we can't even agree with what constitutes personhood, any argument about abortion is absolutely futile. As was evidenced last Thursday, however, sometime alcohol induces me to break that rule, resulting in drunken stalemate (yuck).

I maintain, however, that the argument for personhood is supremely philosophic, and thus supremely rational, and thus supremely impenetrable. Peter Kreeft, who, as a Thomist, Chestertonian, and Lewisian, is one of my favorite philosophers, gives the argument here as to why human persohnood begins at conception. The guy is one of my heroes. You can't argue with it, so don't even try.

Seriously.

Yes Yes Yes pt. 2

2007-05-18T13:22:00.000-05:00

This is just as good as the last one.

This is God's country, boys

2007-05-18T10:37:00.000-05:00

We got to boo Bonds at the 'stros game last night. Roy O was brilliant, as usual, striking out 6 or 7 in seven innings, but he was long gone when the game was decided in extra innings. A couple funky, freak hits by the Giants gave them the 2-1 victory in the 12th. Tough way to lose a ball game, for sure, but Minute Maid's always a helluva place to watch one - especially on a night like last night, when the weather was absolutely gorgeous.

Hooray, baseball.

When it rains, it pours.

2007-05-17T12:30:00.000-05:00

That's the story of my work life. I haven't even had time to read any blogs for the last three days, much less write one.

You've probably been anxiously awaiting an update on Moustache Watch 2007. Rest assured, the Watch continues, but I've decided to give only weekly updates now; the daily measure of my progress was far too unfulfilling.

So according to Brian, Casa de Siy is a giant magnet for the poontang, albeit poontang of the "let's just be friends" variety. Well, just because they've warned him to keep out of the no-fly zone doesn't mean that Richard won't have the green light. Richard, if we are to believe the tales your brother spins, your new house could potentially be the greatest thing that ever happened to you. Well, besides the first time you tried anal. On me.

Everyone should also be expecting tales of greatness from Giz, who is apparently way the fuck cooler than all of us. That's been a well know fact for a while, I know, but only recently, as he has continued to divulge the full extent of his exploits to me, have I fully embraced it as a truism (I always wanted to be the coolest, meh). Giz, get on that mega-post! We need to hear about your world travels.

Yes Yes Yes

2007-05-16T07:42:00.000-05:00

I can't stop watching this....

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 8

2007-05-15T00:34:00.000-05:00

Sleezetastic.

Sweet Fancy Moses ACL 2007

2007-05-14T14:33:00.001-05:00

Bob Dylan & His Band
Björk
The White Stripes
The Killers
Wilco
Arcade Fire
Muse
My Morning Jacket
Queens Of The Stone Age
Bloc Party
Arctic Monkeys
Gotan Project
Joss Stone
Damien Rice
Robert Earl Keen
Lucinday Williams
Spoon
Blue October
Indigo Girls
The Decemberists
Paolo Nutini
Regina Spektor
Amy Winehouse
Crowded House
Steve Earle
Ziggy Marley
Stephen Marley
Kaiser Chiefs
LCD Soundsystem
DeVotchKa
Augustana
Amos Lee
M.I.A.
Ben Kweller
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Andrew Bird
Bela Fleck & The Flecktons
Ghostland Observatory
Cross Canadian Ragweed
Revered Horton Heat
St59 (Sound Tribe Sector Nine)
Yo La Tengo
Joseph Arthur & The Lonely Astronauts
Rodrigo Y Gabriela
Zap Mama
Blonde Redhead
Eli Young Band
Aterciopelados
Heartless Bastards
Raul Malo
James Hunter
Mighty Clouds Of Joy
Del McCoury Band
Preservation Hall Jazz Band
Andy Palacio & The Garifuna Collective
Asleep At The Wheel
Ryan Shaw
Will Hoge
The National
Beau Soleil
Midlake
Grace Potter And The Nocturnals
Railroad Earth
Dax Riggs
Sound Team
The Legendary Soul Stirrers
Charlie Musselwhite
JJ Grey & Mofro
Young Love
The Dynamites Featuring Charles Walker
Ian Ball
The Little Ones
Manchester Orchestra
Patterson Hood
Billy Joe Shaver
Fionn Regan
Big Sam's Funky Nation
John Ralston
The Broken West
Rose Hill Drive
Grandon Rhyder
Ocote Soul Sounds
Sara Hickman
Willy Mason
Jon Dee Graham
The Paul Green School Of Rock All-Stars
Kevin Devine
Nicole Atkins & The Sea
The Ike Reilly Assassination
Greyhounds
Guy Forsyth
Adam Hood
Cary Ann Hearst & The Gun Street Girls
The Jones Family Singers
The Gospel Silvertones
The Shields Of Faith
Sylvia St. James
Jeffrey Steele
Amy Cook
Trent Summar & The New Row Mob
Back Door Slam
Mario Matteoli
Kara Grainger
One Mississippi
Kevin McKinney
Jennifery Nicely
Sahara Smith
The New Soul Invaders
The Wonderful Harmonizers
Loretta Williams Gurnell
Amy Loftus
Amy Lavere
The Steps
We Go To 11
The Sippy Cups
Daddy A Go Go
Farmer Jason
O Brothers Jambo Kidz
The Bummkinn Band
The Jellydots

It's Roy Scheider Day!

2007-05-14T09:12:00.000-05:00

Today, May 14, has been officially designated Roy Scheider Day. Definitely an occasion for a "hurrah" from every red-blooded American man.

Though the iconic Scheider role is that of Brody, one can't help but fondly recall his outstanding performance in All That Jazz. And when you think All That Jazz, you have to think Ben Vereen.

And, completing the stream of consciousness, when you think Ben Vereen, you have to think of him as Itsy in Mother Goose Rock and Rhyme:

In case you're curious, the occasion for today's Scheider-glory is his guest appearance on tonight's Law & Order: Criminal Intent. So set your DVR's and get those beers a-crackin'!!! I've got such a hard-on for this.

Via Wolcott via CHUD.

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 7

2007-05-13T22:08:00.000-05:00

One week down, five to go. I'm afraid this is as thick as it's going to get.

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 6

2007-05-13T01:01:00.000-05:00

Not so sober stache.

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 5

2007-05-11T22:51:00.000-05:00

Like a Mexican bus boy...

The clouds have parted.

2007-05-11T11:41:00.000-05:00

I guess someone with some kind of say-so used the justification that myspace and facebook are good for "professional networking," because they are now once again unblocked by the corporate firewall. I feel a decline in my productivity already. That's really nothing to laugh at, either; when your base productivity is already as low as mine is, getting it to dip down even lower is really exploring the limits of inexertion.

Yacht cruise tomorrow, w00t w00t!

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 4

2007-05-10T22:28:00.000-05:00

Getting strong now; won't be long now.

My eyes are bleeding.

2007-05-10T14:59:00.000-05:00

What the hell happened to my sitemeter? Color scheme from hell.

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 3

2007-05-09T22:46:00.000-05:00

I fucking hate the Jazz and all their white, white fans.

That's ugly.

2007-05-09T10:06:00.000-05:00

Waldo sent me this column for consumption, written by Spengler. No, not that Spengler.

The gist:

In the case of Pollock, people neither like his work nor the way it looks; what they like is the idea that the artist in his arrogance can redefine the world on his own terms.

Well worth the full read.

I don't dislike all modern art, and I even find some it interesting. I do, however, dislike the existentialist and nihilistic philosophic foundations upon on which much modern art rests. I also dislike it when people praise art for the sole reason that it is avant garde and/or untraditional. The greatest tyrannical act of the modern era has been the oppression and suppresion of the historical.

Lastly, I dislike it when people are afraid to call things ugly, or deny that some works, in fact, aren't classifiable as art. They are idiots.

Examples:

Not interesting. Not art.

Somewhat interesting. Decorative. Still not art.

Ugly. Brainless. Not art.

Transcendent. Sublime. Art.

Further reading:

A good thread discussing the aforementioned column, with great stuff from "Alex" there at the end.

"The Dying of Western Culture," by Navrazov

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 2

2007-05-08T22:16:00.000-05:00

Hmmm, it looked thicker yesterday...

Holy hell, where the fuck have I been?!?

2007-05-08T08:25:00.000-05:00

Speaking of being a youtube blogger...

Robot Chicken is the greatest thing in the world!

Why are they sooooooo good?!?

Moustache Watch 2007: Day 1

2007-05-07T22:49:00.000-05:00

There is a good chance that this six week long feature could effectively terminate all our regular readership, but fuck it. You're gonna see the daily progress, and you're gonna like it.

Almost fully recovered.

2007-05-07T09:14:00.000-05:00

Relative success on the Cinco de Mayo party front. I'm pretty sure I couldn't have consumed all the beer I bought by myself, which tells me that at least a few other people were there. It's all kind of hazy. People have been telling me all morning that I look like shit. What else is new, though?

In other exciting news, a project I had been working on at work recently had its official release/kickoff. In honor of its success (I guess...?) I got an invitation to go out on a yacht cruise for dinner and drinks this Saturday. I'm going to fall off the damn boat.

Lastly, I know I say this all the time, but this time it's for real: the moustache is coming back. There will be no shaving it for at least 6 weeks. I'll make sure and keep you updated.

Whiskey Dick - A Treatise

2007-05-03T19:08:00.000-05:00

I think I'm becoming a link blogger, which is probably the lowest denominator of blogger I could be. Alas, I have little else to say unless it involves whining about the state of healthcare, gloating over our new house, or spouting drunken gibberish like a rhesus monkey.

Anyway:

Using mathematical models of penis geometry and hydrostatic pressure, doctors can predict when penises will fail – and in which vagina – he says.

Previous studies have found that the force required enter a vagina, which depends on a vaginal diameter and lubrication, ranges from 1.5 to 2.5 kg. So, "an individual male may exhibit ED with one partner but not with another," says Udelson

Sex funny.

Conan at ILM

2007-05-03T12:56:00.000-05:00

Forgot to share this yesterday. I had read that Lucas was the scheduled guest for Late Night this past Tuesday, so of course, I had to watch it. Conan opened up the show with this bit, inside ILM(!), which was golden.

Before you sit down to view it, make sure no one can see you, because I guarantee you will get a nerd chubby.

And the actual Lucas interview, also required viewing:

Why are people so fucking insane??

2007-05-03T11:14:00.000-05:00

At least ESPN's doing their part in portraying these people as the loonies they really are.

I still haven't figured out how I'm going to incorporate the makings of a Mint Julep into my margaritas this Saturday... too many special drinking occasions for one day!

OTC

2007-05-02T13:03:00.000-05:00

This morning I went and checked out the Offshore Technology Conference (OTC) at Reliant park. It was hugegantic. The degree of specialization in drilling and recovery related technology is staggering.

Of course, since I have nothing to do with offshore exploration and production, for me it was mostly just a trip out of the office. A friend of mine that had gone on Monday had mentioned to me that he spent most of his time looking at split tail. I admit, I was wary of just how much tang one could find at a conference for a male dominated industry. I'm pleased to report that my friend wasn't lying.

If you haven't been to Reliant park, like the rest of Houston, it's a sprawl. Companies had their booths set up regionally. I spent most of the time around the Brazilian and Norwegian companies, for obvious reasons. Those Brazilian chicks, good gravy - I swear they must hire these gals for the specific purpose of being "booth babes." It was totally legit though, all business related, because we've got real life drilling contracts with Petrobras. I talked to them for the good of the company, and the good of the stock price.

-------------

This makes me laugh:

Let's hear it for classy broads

2007-04-30T12:57:00.000-05:00

I only wish my own mother would've been as such.

Reduce Firefox's memory usage

2007-04-26T10:42:00.000-05:00

We've all been there.

You're deep into a self-love session and have no fewer than 30 tabs open in Firefox, each with a different stimulating medium (why choose between Keeley and Pinder when you can have both, simultaneously? God bless the internets!). Just before you reach that 8 seconds of bliss, however, your machine slows to a snail's pace. You pull out your hair and rend your garments in anguish; your masturbatory rythm is ruined, thanks to the 15 second delay in just switching between tabs.

Two possible pre-emptive measures could solve your problems: 1) buy a new computer, or at least upgrade your memory, or 2) go here and find different ways to reduce the 'fox's memory usage. Some of the suggestions are obvious (clear your history), but others are very clever (assign a memory cache).

Recently, but very belatedly, I chose the former; now I tab away, without fear:

Fap * Tab * Fap * Tab * Fap * Tab * Fap * Tab * Fap

Viva la Cube.

2007-04-24T15:45:00.000-05:00

Al Gore has invented and built a time machine. It runs on shredded paperwork.

Following is an excerpt from an interview he gave The People's Cube.

"So what exactly can you do to correct our history?"
"We can enhance national security."
"How?"
"By going back in time, don't you see?"
"You mean, everybody? So the terrorists can't find us?"
"That's as good a plan as any. Will require a lot of shredded paperwork, though."
"I see. Would it be possible, perhaps, to go back in time and locate certain documents pertaining to your Administration's handling of national security, and shred them before they become classified?"
"I believe Sandy Berger took care of that already. Only he traveled in time manually, so to speak, with a pair of socks and scissors," the inventor laughed, bringing much needed comic relief to the serious discussion.

.....

"How exactly is your time machine supposed to advance human progress?"
"Well, I don't know... I suppose I can bring Karl Marx to modern-day America and have him sort out Bush's tax cuts and social security reform."
"Is that really possible?"
"Don't question Karl Marx, young man. His theory is infallible. It is us who fail to implement it correctly due to our sinful, greedy human nature aggravated by conservative Republican policies."
"I would never question Marx, sir. I was just asking if you could really revive Marx and bring him to us."
"Absolutely. The other day I time-traveled to Moscow and revived Lenin."
"You did what?"
"It was a scientific experiment. History will thank me for that."
"Did you bring him to Washington?"
"I didn't. The man is a maniac. Just out of Mausoleum and he's already posing for cameras and petting children. The next minute he sees a Pierre Cardin store on Red Square and starts agitating from the balcony, ordering the proletarians to loot the looters and burn down the mall. Washington? You'd think one Al Sharpton is enough, thank you very much."

Read the whole thing.

THIS. IS. AWESOME.

2007-04-23T11:05:00.001-05:00

A large part of why I am drawn to any particular genre of music is a fascination with the (probably romanticized) background culture that births, propagates, and then sustains it (hence obsessions with the G Funk era, Guns N' fuckin' Roses and their fellow degenerate, late 80's rockers, and the Ramones/CBGB's, to name only a few.) Someday I will write extensively about the anthropological givings of modern music, but today is not that day.

Today you get "Fans Behind the Music: REO Speedwagon Edition."

The 'wagon is the shit, and not just because they were cock-rocking before the genre was even invented. They are equally amazing for the sole reason that there really are Joe Dirts out there, and Joe Dirts love them.

As you can see, just about all the bases are covered here: white trash, blue jean shorts, mullets, drunkenness, battered-looking trailer broads wearing too little clothing, paint huffing, and cold-cocking. I would've loved to hear the surely civilized conversation that led up to this.

Note: I stumbled across this while watching youtube videos of various live versions of Africa. God bless the children.

UPDATE: Butt rock, indeed. This says it all, really:

I'm almost embarrassed to even address the subject...

2007-04-19T14:16:00.000-05:00

...given the disgusting amount of overexposure the V-Tech killings have already received, so I'll just make this a one and done. For the most part, I've succesfully avoided cable news outlets since Monday, but I have inadvertantly caught bits of coverage here and there. The media is truly pervasive.

One interview I saw on Monday has particularly stuck with me. It was with a female student, a freshman, who looked like a poster girl for the feminazis. She had a Mr. Clean shaved head, her ear lobes were plugged, wore thick horn-rimmed glasses, and had the air of an arrogant cunt. (Incidentally, I don't feel bad judging her by her appearance; anyone that presents themself like that is begging to be judged.) You already know her line: she expressed outrage (Zzzz...) that the school administration had not responded sooner to the initial acts of violence.

Even now, I can't help but be amazed at the supreme irony in her remarks. She who is (al)most certainly of an "Impeach Bush" strain expressing anger that the executive power failed to take swift, unilateral action against a man that posed an imminent and mortal threat. "A madman with a gun was on the loose, and the administration failed to take a hard enough course of action in stopping him and securing us!"

Maddening, these people.

For the most part, however, my thoughts have tended to focus on the actions (and possible lackthereof) of the students and faculty who were present during the second shooting.

"Remember: when we say "we don't know what we'd do under the same circumstances", we make cowardice the default position."

My initial reaction in learning that the shooter had locked himself in the building with all those people was to juxtapose that situation against that of United Flight 93 on 9/11. It was on that flight that men refused to resign their fates to other men with guns pointed at them; there that virtus truly made itself manifest, and at the hour of death, no less. No doubt, such courage was displayed on Monday, but I can't help but wonder to what extent.

That may sound terribly uncharitable to the dead and their families, but I think it's necessary to ponder. It is precisely because these atrocities occur that we should all not only consider but charge ourselves with what we would do under the same circumstances.

Links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Phillistines! We're all Phillistines!

2007-04-17T18:15:00.000-05:00

This should be an especially poignant experiment for the Triumvirate, considering the level of musical pretention floating around here (Have you seen the video for Feist's 1234? It's happy sauce. Replace this Cansei de Ser Sexy shit).

Set-up: Take a world-renowned violinist normally commanding $1,000/minute for concert performances. Have him play a 1713 Stradivarius purchased for roughly $3.5 million. Put him in a subway entrance. Watch.

The results are about as depressing as one would expect. But hey, maybe getting your work put into the proper context is part of the art. All philosophical rooting left to those so inclined, it's a nice little social experiment to bring up to all those classy broads at all those classy socialite events we all go to all the time. All.

"It's a bit of a jewel."

2007-04-17T16:23:00.001-05:00

What is it? The recently discovered, symmetric bipolar nebula around MWC 922!

Story.

On a scale this massive, the symmetry is uncanny. A picture like this is comparable to that of SN1987A - unbelievable!

Trauma Drama

2007-04-15T07:29:00.000-05:00

Apparently, car wrecks can do some monstrous things to our soft, warm little bodies. Mr. T says, "Wear your safety belt!"

Halfway through another of my ill-advised Saturday 3-11 p.m. shift, 11-3 a.m. alcoholic binge, 7 a.m. - 3 p.m. shift masochism festivals, I half-heartedly wish that Vince is wrong and there actually is a personal sleep bank. I'll hibernate before my internship.

I've got some paper towels

2007-04-12T13:57:00.000-05:00

My brothers and I used to use this oneline like it was going out of style. I still get tempted to bust it out every now and then, but I know no one will ever get it.

From The Great Muppet Caper, probably my favorite (hence, the best) Muppet movie ever.

Jack Warden has a cameo in TGMC as Fozzie and Kermit's editor. Of course, we also remember Jack for classic work in the classics Problem Child 1 & 2. Here's a timeless scene from the latter. Make sure you watch the whole thing - the payoff is AMAZING.

Geography and dialect

2007-04-11T11:18:00.001-05:00

It should be obvious enough that people from different regions of the England have different accents, but that's not a fact that I ever really internalize. Enter Collect Britain, a showcase of items from the British Library, and an anglophile's wet dream. Among its collections of historical maps, drawings, manuscripts, and artwork are over 600 voice recordings of (strictly) English accents.

Most of the ones I've come are from rural folk, and were recorded in the 1950's, so you've gotta guess that their dialects on the decline by now. One can't help but feel at least a slight twang of heartache in listening to these people wax nostalgic about "the old days" and how much better they were (the common theme for most of these recordings). That's another one we can chalk up to the modern era - an oppressive cultural homogeneity.

Here are some of my favorites:

Bob from Cornwall

George from Northumberland - I bet you can't understand a word of this one

Frank from Buckinghamshire - badger baiting!

---------------

See also the Speech Accent Archive, which collects a large sample of native and non-native speakers of English reading the same short text. Just like in real life, the Dallas accent is far superior to the Houston one. Go listen for yourself.

TV on the Radio and ...... CANCER

2007-04-10T15:14:00.000-05:00

So, despite Toony's advance notice, the Brothers Siy did not make it to the Ted Leo concert at Numbers, instead opting for extreme intoxication at a sausagefest bar (Little Woodrow's in The Village), free pool, and Turkish food.

Anyway, I present a few memorable highlights of TV on the Radio's 3rd Texas performance in as many nights. First, Tunde was definitely out of sorts with his impossibly long trademark left hand making about thrice the air rotations I've seen in the past and flinging water into the crowd/dumping it on himself. Rockstar! He also started screaming his voice out a la Hamilton Leithauser (Rockstar!), which is depressing considering the usual effortlessness of his range. Nonetheless, it was a solid (fucking loud) performance only slightly eclipsed by a pair of concert-going invalids.

1. Mental midget #1, after dilligent pre-show study of TV on the Radio's entire catalogue, found a song he could in good conscience deem "ROCK" in Wolf Like Me. So, in mid-90's fashion, he honored the song's performance by sincerely moshing into a statuesque brunette who, in turn, insincerely moshed into the back of my head. Needless to say, hipsters and the financially successful do not mosh, so after realizing the seizure was invading their space and touching their ladies, calculated hostility quieted our little bald firebrand. Song = ruined.

2. Mental midget #2 had no idea who TV on the Radio is. Now, that isn't inherently wrong. A band's live performance often acts as a catalyst for fandom. This, in contrast, was a drunken KA alum, resplendent in pastel polo and 8-year old boy haircut, hoping to dance (i.e., convulse) on some rather cute hipster chicks who he was unfortunately acquainted with. That in itself chafes my chode. To exacerbate the situation, after realizing I had no plans to pull the Concert Scrunch so he could manhandle the short chicks I had quite deliberately situated myself behind, he pulled the Palms Together Arm Insert while slurring, "I need to get by." This is approximately 10 songs into the set. So, from then on he generously shielded me from the visual spectacle of the band while, credit given where due, impressively maintaining an epileptic merengue for the last songs of the set. I acquainted myself with the muscles of the human back. Brian gave him a forearm shove for no reason. I love you bro.

Nevertheless, it was a fun night despite the meager alcohol consumption. A post about Brian's ride the next day is warranted.

And on the medical front, a surprisingly good article on the need for and nature of cancer screening via The Washington Post. Some choice quotes to whet the appetite:

And if you really want to find as much cancer as possible, we would suggest whole-body CT, MRI and PET scans every month. But that would be absurd. Why? Because the goal is not to find more cancer. The goal is to save lives. The two goals are not the same.

Doctors and the public need to understand that finding more cancer is not the answer. You want to know whether a test saves lives or reduces the number of people with metastatic cancer. And you want to know about the downsides: how many people suffer needlessly in the process.

My worthless education

2007-04-05T13:15:00.001-05:00

Stumbled across a great little essay about the disservice done to all in the way math is currently taught: "If We Taught English the Way We Teach Math."

That I happened upon this piece of writing is highly coincidental, in that just recently I have been reflecting on the undergraduate curriculum I completed that sufficed for a B.S. in Mathematics. I've come to the dismal conclusion that in 3.5 years worth of training in higher math, the only things I managed to internalize were a few definitions and some general concepts.

Granted, the primary function of an undergraduate degree in any of the natural sciences is merely to instill in the student a solid understanding of the most basic building blocks of his area of study; it is to serve as a foundation for the infinitely more in-depth studies of the Masters and Doctorate programs. As such, a rigid, strict, and formulaic (no pun intended) approach to teaching is to be expected in the undergraduate program. Still, one can't help but take on a defeatist attitude in the realization that his $100,000 education is woefully incomplete in itself.

One of the problems may be that at a highly competitive school like Texas, professors have no choice but to place the majority of their focus on research. Teaching is of secondary importance - who knows how many would actually hold office hours if they weren't required to by their departments. Though few and far between, those who exert more than the minimum effort to teach something are an acceptable payoff. I used to scratch my head when fellow students would express their outrage at such-and-such professor's frequent philosophical tangents. What is wrong with these people?

I think I'm rambling.

-------

Hard to believe it's already been a year, but this week is Holy Week and today's another Maundy Thursday.

The Mandatum, of which is derived Maundy:

mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos ut et vos diligatis invicem

I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.

Now's the time for me to hole up and focus on the season; stillness and silence began tonight at dusk.

The Easter Triduum - it's the most holy time of the year!

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out Kid

2007-04-05T09:34:00.000-05:00

Sad news...yesterday, Hollywood director Bob Clark, the guy behind "A Christmas Story," (and Porky's incidetally) died in an auto accident. He was with his son driving down the PCH in California when they were hit by a drunk driver. Really sucks. "A Christmas Story" is definitely one of my favorite flicks, as I have plans to be Ralphie in the bunny costume for Halloween this year. It's a shame. I have this DVD, may have to watch it tonight.

On a lighter note... FRIDAY OFF!! Tickets for Grindhouse at 7:00. This would be my most anticipated movie of the year, if it weren't for this.

Keith Richards is funny!

2007-04-04T13:41:00.000-05:00

"The strangest thing I've tried to snort? My father. I snorted my father," Richards was quoted as saying by British music magazine NME.

"He was cremated and I couldn't resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow. My dad wouldn't have cared," he said. "... It went down pretty well, and I'm still alive."

....

"I was No. 1 on the `who's likely to die' list for 10 years. I mean, I was really disappointed when I fell off the list," Richards said.

Keith Richards is the bestestest!

Link.

Three Cheers for Blind Faith in the Internet

2007-04-03T19:21:00.000-05:00

Basically, some things are worth the leap. We must disseminate this most assuredly spurious information. It's a mandate for all mankind.

In other news, the next Casa de Siy is pretty much sealed with mortgage rate locked in and option period about over. Basically, once a girl succumbs and enters the home, fluids will be swapped. Imagine a pool table in the living room and less staid bedroom furniture (God the furniture they have in my bedroom is awful). Did I mention I get to live here as a medical student? My recommendation for a comfortable life: have motivated siblings.

Trailer for a trailer? A sneak peak...

2007-04-03T14:15:00.000-05:00

As you're all aware, not only is Grindhouse going to be presented as a double feature, but it will be shown complete with faux trailers for fictional films. Eli Roth (Hostel), Edgar Wright (Sean of the Dead), and Rob Zombie (uhhh) are each directing one.

Head over to IGN to see Roth's work on Thanksgiving. It's got all kinds of nudity, so you'll need to verify your age.

Hooray, IGN!

This comes out on Friday... but go see it on Monday!

GH2 on the 360

2007-04-03T11:11:00.000-05:00

Today I ordered Guitar Hero 2 for the 360! That's right, it's the Multiplayer Bundle - I call lead! Red Octane has a special where they even throw in a free gig bag. This is going to be the best Easter ever.

Good things about the 360 version:

1. New songs.
2. Additional, downloadable songs available from Xbox Live.

Bad things about the 360 version:

1. No Xbox Live playability.
2. More expensive than PS2 version (but then, so is every game on the 360).

If anyone else is planning on buying this, doing so today at Circuit City would be a smart move. If you buy the Single Player Multipack, they'll give you a free card with 1700 Xbox Live points ($20 value). Today only!

ATHF:MFFT one-sheet

2007-04-02T13:04:00.000-05:00

Outstanding.

UPDATE: Much higher resolution artwork here.

The penance of guilt ridden yuppies

2007-04-02T09:57:00.000-05:00

Read this NYT article first.

A commenter takes the words right out of my mouth:

This experiment is a cute and interesting way to raise awareness of our bad habits, but the Conlin-Beavan family does not face the difficulties that so many American families do. It’s nice that Mr. Conlin has the time and the MONEY to shop and cook for locally grown, organically produced food (and it’s oh-so-kind of them to let their cleaning lady keep her vacuum). But what about the people who have to work multiple jobs just to get enough food of any kind on the table, even if it’s Kraft mac and cheese? What about the residents of low-income neighborhoods whose only option is to shop at a convenience store because there ARE no grocery stores? And what about the people living in rural America who shop at Wal-Mart and don’t even have access to the produce being grown all around them because of how screwed-up our food systems are in this country? The Comlin-Beavans must look beyond their own family and see what they can do to help others and change the systems in place. Real changes occur when we care about the needs of others, not just ourselves.

It is not impressive to me to see some 5th Ave yuppies go a year without balsalmic vinegar. We have to address the serious resource inequities in this country before people like the Conlin-Beavans fret over having accidentally eaten in a restaurant.

As much as I enjoyed reading Crunchy Cons, that was my main critique of it, as well - that other than implementing a recycling program, the lifestyle being advocated is completely inaccessable to a family with even average means.

For all our sakes, I'll allay my desire to open the can of worms that is the list of Conlin-Beavan motivating factors. Dreher has philosophy and theology as an impetus for change; these people have Al fucking Gore. He invented the internets, for Pete's sake!

Texas and Toonces Win Again

2007-03-28T16:37:00.000-05:00

2003's Proposition 12, which capped non-economic damages in malpractice lawsuits at $250,000, has been so effective in attracting doctors as to create a certification backlog for the Texas Medical Board.

This should say a few things to the United States and to those lucky few who have set down fairly strong roots here.
1. If you're having a doctor shortage (Hi Massachusetts!), try a little tort reform.
2. Texas, and more specifically Houston, may have my heart and residence for long periods to come. Toonces, you and your soon-to-be permanent whisky (yay bourbon) dick will have a fraternal bond to immoral prescriptioning.
3. Doctors need to get paid. Duh.
4. Texas wins again.

Oh, a fun Slate article on the distinct aroma of burnt human.

Bass' chili begins its two-day gestation this evening. In honor of artificially intimate disclosure of ages past, he plans to make Mississippi Mud the the broth beer of choice.

Obsessed

2007-03-28T10:43:00.000-05:00

Well, friends, I won't lie. The reason I've not posted in a couple days is that every last free second I've had lately I've spent trying to learn all I can about the Mac and Tiger. I even bought David Pogue's 900 page "Missing Manual" (information overload.)

I'm terribly self-conscious of my current n00b status, especially after spending my life thus far a weathered and battleweary, yet prideful, Windows veteran. I'm trying to alleviate the situation as quickly as possible - total immersion is the ticket!

Next subjects for mastery: the Automator and Quicksilver.

Update on hard drive recovery: It seems that no one I know owns a desktop (!), which places a hold on any forward progress with respect to recovering my multiple GBs of sloppy gay porn. Oh wait - Mango! Last time I was at his house, he had about 12 computers plugged in all over the place. Yes, yes, Mango...

This needs to be the video of the week:

First TOB post from the new MacBook

2007-03-24T02:54:00.000-05:00

I feel like such a tool having this thing, yet so fucking cool at the same time.

I win at life.