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These sites usually talk about other things besides music
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I fancy myself a photo-grapher |
Monday, November 28, 2005 |
Not much to report on during the Thanksgiving downtime. I had Thanksgiving with my family, came back home and spent time with my friends. We did the usual drinking in bars type of thing.
Item #1
I was walking in the bar, talking to my friend Crystal, when I walk by a guy who says to me, "You're so gay. You're gay, aren't you?"
I reply, "No, and besides you're not my type." And then I walk away to talk to some other friends.
A minute later, his buddy comes over and says to me, "I'd like to apologize for my friend. He's having a rough time; he's going through a divorce."
Item #2
Me: So, why do waffles cost more than pancakes? It's not like they're harder to make. Amy: This is the same as asking why do indie kids think they're better than other kids.
(Seriously, can someone explain to me why waffles cost more than pancakes? You just pour the waffle mix in a waffle maker, whereas with pancakes, you have to work on making them round. Thus, wouldn't pancakes cost more because of the labor involved?)
Item #3
I'm becoming one of those annoying people who take pictures every second of every outing. But usually, I enjoy taking random shots, especially of tables that have gone through a party or dining process, such as these.
I'm not sure why I'm attracted to taking these kinds of pictures. I just am. |
posted by pimplomat @ 10:52 AM |
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Very un-Dandy |
Wednesday, November 23, 2005 |
I attended the Dandy Warhols show last night, and it was meh. The whole performance seemed void of energy, and I felt like the band was just going through the motions. I used to like them a lot, and one of the best shows I've ever seen was when BRMC opened up for them one year. That was the same show that my friend, Chris, got beaten up by some guys in the bathroom.
Nothing exciting like that happened at this show, except for the very un-exciting part of the night that my friends ditched me. At least I got in free, and at least I know more than three people in this town. Otherwise, I would have been standing alone watching a very boring performance from a band that usually puts on a good show.
At the end, when I text messaged my "friends" to say I was leaving, I received this text message back: "Sorry we r cunts u knew that goin n." |
posted by pimplomat @ 8:55 AM |
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Kickball, comedians, and the Book of Revelations |
Monday, November 21, 2005 |
Round One: My kickball friends and I were challenged by the bully basketball players a few weeks ago to a kickball game. They were under the belief that they could kick our ass at our own game. We took the challenge and decided to rumble yesterday afternoon. It was a total Jets vs. Sharks kind of thing, but without the finger-snapping and singing.
In the end, we schooled the basketball players. We won our first game 15-3, and we won the second game 14-9. Our next opponent will be a real kickball team, one that plays in a WAKA league.
Kickball action:
Round Two: I saw a couple of comedians last night at a bar. It's sad when the audience heckler is funnier than the onstage talent.
Round Three: I'm going to make a movie about The Book of Revelations. I will hire Journey to do the soundtrack. We will end the movie with either "Don't Stop Believing," or "Open Arms." Not sure which yet. |
posted by pimplomat @ 11:55 AM |
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Merwin and the National Book Award |
Friday, November 18, 2005 |
Finally, W.S. Merwin won a National Book Award for Migration: New and Selected Poems. He's won several other prizes, including a Pulitzer in 1970, but never a NBA, even though he's been nominated many times in the past. Now all that's left to win is a Nobel Prize in Literature. I've said it once, and I'll say it again, he and Robert Bly should win the Nobel Prize, not just for their poetry alone, but also for their wonderful translations over the years. If Merwin dies before winning the Nobel Prize, it will rank up there with the tragedy of Borges and Nabokov never winning it either.
Merwin is one of my all-time favorite poets. Here are a few poems I like (and I hope you will too).
"For The Anniversary Of My Death"
Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me And the silence will set out Tireless traveller Like the beam of a lightless star
Then I will no longer Find myself in life as in a strange garment Surprised at the earth And the love of one woman And the shamelessness of men As today writing after three days of rain Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease And bowing not knowing to what
"Separation"
Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.
"Witness"
I want to tell what the forests were like
I will have to speak in a forgotten language
"Yesterday"
My friend says I was not a good son you understand I say yes I understand
he says I did not go to see my parents very often you know and I say yes I know
even when I was living in the same city he says maybe I would go there once a month or maybe even less I say oh yes
he says the last time I went to see my father I say the last time I saw my father
he says the last time I saw my father he was asking me about my life how I was making out and he went into the next room to get something to give me
oh I say feeling again the cold of my father's hand the last time
he says and my father turned in the doorway and saw me look at my wristwatch and he said you know I would like you to stay and talk with me
oh yes I say
but if you are busy he said I don't want you to feel that you have to just because I'm here
I say nothing
he says my father said maybe you have important work you are doing or maybe you should be seeing somebody I don't want to keep you
I look out the window my friend is older than I am he says and I told my father it was so and I got up and left him then you know
though there was nowhere I had to go and nothing I had to do
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posted by pimplomat @ 11:54 AM |
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I need cooler glasses |
Thursday, November 17, 2005 |
Last night, I crashed another art opening. Okay, technically I didn't crash it. I was invited to it. However, I did partake more than I should have in the free champagne. The guy pouring the juice kept giving me the I-know-what-you're-doing-and-I-hate-you-and-your-lushy-friends eye. I think he was just jealous that he didn't get to drink.
Also, I'm beginning to think that I don't sport cool enough eyeglass frames to attend these art openings. How come everyone at these functions has over-the-top frames? Or maybe they're just trying too hard to be "arty."
Overheard at the opening:
"So, do you think this place's bathroom is poop friendly?"
Male: It looks like a mixture of grapes and pina colada. Female: What?! Male: Look...see...there are the grapes. Female: There are no grapes in that painting. And you're rude. Male: Can't you see...wait! How am I rude? Female: Pina colada...Jesus...step away from the painting and get another drink.
"So I was at Church's the other day, and there was no place to sit. My friend and I decided to sit at this big, black guy's table. And he was all like, Oh is that the way it's going to be? And we said, It sure is."
Female: I don't have your number. Male: You can find me on Myspace. Female: Yeah, that's better anyway. |
posted by pimplomat @ 11:58 AM |
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Gifts of Ancient Egypt |
Wednesday, November 16, 2005 |
A few months ago I purchased some educational middle school-type posters at a yard sale. Some of the ones I bought are "How to Take Notes," "Outstanding Latinas & Latinos in America," and "Gifts of the Romans."
I love these posters. I switch them out in my cube every week. Having them up is a lot better than the dusty color of my walls that I stare at everyday. At least this way I'm learning something.
So today, I'm going to tell you about some "Gifts of Ancient Egypt," according to my poster. Have a seat, and prepare to be schooled.
System of Writing The Egyptians invented hieroglyphics, a form of picture writing that employed more than 700 symbols. These symbols, which stood for ideas and sounds, were inscribed on monuments and temples and used to record official texts. The Egyptians were also the first to make use of papyrus, a writing material made from the stalks of the papyrus plant, a reed that grew along the banks of the Nile.
Land Surveying The Egyptians developed accurate methods of land surveying. To tax their subjects fairly, the pharaohs needed to know the exact size of their landholdings. Surveying was also used in planning and developing large architectural complexes and irrigation projects.
Calendar Gifted astronomers and mathematicians, the Egyptians created a 365-day calendar of 12 months. Unlike the calendars used today, there were 30 days in every month and 10 days in every week. The remaining five days were feast days for honoring the gods.
I haven't fact-checked any of these tidbits. But if they're on a laminated poster, they must be true, right? |
posted by pimplomat @ 12:11 PM |
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A couple of random bits, again |
Tuesday, November 15, 2005 |
Random #1: I've been on a few trips, and inevitably it happens. Someone I just met will start talking about the weather. Phrases such as "Hot enough for you?," "I bet it doesn't get this cold where you're from," and "Looks like rain tonight," happen so often that it's laughable.
I know people do this because the weather is something everyone has in common, and they're looking to establish similarities between themselves. But can't we talk about other similarities? How about "So, I see you have two arms, too. How's that working out for you?," or "How pickled is your liver?"
So, yeah, the weather...it's supposed to get down to freezing here tonight. How exciting!
Random #2: This past weekend was full of good times. I was going to tell you about The Veldt, but Wee Demon did a good job of saying what I would say about them here.
On Saturday, everyone in town decided to have a party. Out of five on my list, I ended up at three. First on the books was Wee Demon's belated birthday party. A lot of men were there, so all you single ladies missed out. Or maybe that was Wee Demon's plan all along--to have a room full of strapping young lads to herself.
After this party, I picked up la_bitessa and we headed to our friend Dan's housewarming party. Here's a picture of Dan about to punch la_bitessa:
Once we had ingested our share of alcohol and chips, we made our way to a bar for Wee Demon's After Party Party, where this guy kept buying me shots.
I ended up taking random photos of things such as
Shoes
Drunks
and Wee Demon and her gentleman caller.
After this picture, I dropped my camera and Wee Demon made fun of me for being drunk.
She was right; it was time to go home. |
posted by pimplomat @ 7:43 AM |
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Chad Stockslager |
Monday, November 14, 2005 |
I don't quit easily. If I feel something or someone is worth fighting for, I stay till the end. Maybe it's the competitive nature in me, or maybe it's because I feel everyone is worth a second (or third) chance. More often than not, it's mainly because I want to see my friends succeed and not let their talents atrophy.
Chad Stockslager is one of those friends of mine. No matter how many times he flakes out on me or gives me the run around, I'll be there to support him. He's an extremely talented songwriter who currently plays in the band The Drams.
Posting these two solo songs is my effort to let the world know about Chad. If you like the songs, please write and encourage him to get off his ass and release a proper album.
I recently put "The Last Time" on a mix CD, which has yet to find its way to that person. The lyrics...well, let's just say they fit.
The Last Time
"She Knows" features the talented Sara Radle on backing vocals.
She Knows
(If you have any trouble downloading these songs, please let me know.) |
posted by pimplomat @ 11:30 AM |
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Graffiti Poet |
Sunday, November 13, 2005 |
Tonight, as I was driving home, I noticed that someone tagged the stop sign on my street. On the back of the sign it says HD. Maybe some street artist is a great admirer of the modernist poet H.D., and he or she wanted the world to know about her.
Or maybe it was the ghost of H.D. Maybe she's working on a new concept book: poems about street signs. In fact, I bet one of her upcoming poems reads like this:
Stop sign, harsh stop sign marred and with stint of aluminum meagred metal, thin, sparse of life,
more precious than a yield sign single on a pole-- you are caught in the street.
Stunted, with eight sides, you are set in the ground, you are sturdy in your command that slows down the world.
Can the stop sign be more beautiful than when it's illuminated by moonlight?
I'm keeping my eyes open for the other poets and where they'll be leaving their mark. WCW on fire engines, TS on spoons, EE on chimneys, etc. |
posted by pimplomat @ 10:22 PM |
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You Won't See Me |
Friday, November 11, 2005 |
Today I discovered that I left my copy of The Beatles' Rubber Soul in my work computer. I was listening to it yesterday, as it is one of my all-time favorite albums. From the rag time type piano part in "Drive My Car" to the sucking in air out of frustration during "Girl," this album is as near to perfection as any I've ever heard.
Whenever something goes wrong, I'm sure we all turn to albums that comfort us. These albums are like friends that say, "Hey, it's going to be okay little buddy. In fact, this song I wrote sums up your exact feelings. Listen to it and know you're not the first or the last to feel this way."
Since this is the 40th anniversary of the release of Rubber Soul, Razor & Tie Entertainment released a CD in its honor. This disc features cover songs (in the exact album order as the original) from such artists as Sufjan Stevens, the Fiery Furnaces, Ben Harper, Dar Williams, Cowboy Junkies, and the Donnas.
And I'm here to say that This Bird Has Flown: A 40th Anniversary Tribute to the Beatles' Rubber Soul is a major disappointment. While I appreciate the artists trying to adapt their styles to the songs, I feel that most of the time it seems forced. Were they thinking, "Everyone knows this song, so how can we make it weird?"
Overall, the album is a failure. However, there are some good tracks. Sufjan Stevens' take on "What Goes On" will grow on you, and Ted Leo's version "I'm Looking Through You" is worth listening to all the way through. Rhett Miller's cover of "Girl" is pretty close to the original. I guess he's the only one to realize one shouldn't mess with perfection. |
posted by pimplomat @ 12:37 PM |
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Humankind cannot bear very much reality |
Thursday, November 10, 2005 |
I discovered some cool artwork online a few months ago. I know Ragna does this so much better (introducing new artists), so I hope I'm not stepping on her toes.
The artist is Thomas Allen, and here's information about his artwork from a press release:
Inspired by a View-Master and “pop-up” books as a child, Allen became interested in recreating these three-dimensional experiences by using old books and pulp fiction paperbacks as still life subjects.
These beautiful volumes with scarred and wrinkled covers, discolored pages and fragile spines are not seen as precious commodities that should be stored on a shelf, but a voluminous inventory of actors and scenes just waiting for direction.
Allen gently cuts around the shape of his figures, physically releasing them from their two dimensional surface. They are brought to life from their pages and covers with detailed lighting and a thin focus. Pulled and positioned, their intended drama comes to life.
In “Recover”, castaways drift atop the very pages that document their ordeal. A love triangle is exposed and comes to life with seductive passion in “Reflex.”
Allen received his MFA at the University of Minnesota in 1996. He has received a fellowship from the Minnesota State Art Board in 2000 and the prestigious McKnight’s Artist Fellowship for Photographers in 1997.
I'm really drawn to this series of his for some reason. Is it the books? The 3-D effects?
These were shown at the Foley Gallery in New York, N.Y., from Dec. 2004 to Feb. 2005. I'm not sure if they are still there though.
Here are some more pieces.
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posted by pimplomat @ 12:50 PM |
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Why Don't You Like Shakespeare? |
Wednesday, November 09, 2005 |
Yesterday, Reuters ran a story about "intellidating" in London. For many singles in that city (and I'm guessing several other cities worldwide), clubbing, dinners, and movies are not cutting it anymore for date choices. According to the article, "Debates and poetry readings are fast becoming London's most romantic nights out." People are becoming more serious in their wooing.
Some guys are attracted to Playboy-esqe blondes or sporty girls or corporate suit-wearing professional women. If you're attracted to a certain type, then good, you know what you want. For me, smart girls are attractive, and I usually only date girls that value intelligence. I don't immediately avoid a date if I know a girl is not smart; however, over time the ones I end up with in long-term relationships are the ones that either equal my intelligence or are slightly above my brain power.
However, there seems to be a bit of coldness in the smart crowd, and I'm not sure why. I don't understand the shift to more brain and less heart. Maybe I'm an idealist (actually, I am an idealist), but I believe there should be a balance. That's probably why I hang out with a variety of people.
Sure, some of my friends don't know the difference between "they're," "their," or "there," or they're unable to debate the merits of Eliot's poetry, but what they lack in intelligence they make up for in heart. They're the first to call you when you're down; they're the first to make you dinner; they're the first to tell you when you're the one acting stupid. (Yes, I know very well there are exceptions in all of this; intelligent people can cook dinner, too.)
But ultimately, I find myself wooed by smarts. I like dating people who appreciate going to poetry readings, the symphony, the museum, etc. Then after all of that, let's hit the bars and talk about what we just heard or saw. However, this type of balanced person is difficult to find. But when you do find one, it's like being given a reprieve from a death sentence. |
posted by pimplomat @ 10:10 AM |
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Books and the blogger who loves them |
Monday, November 07, 2005 |
A lot of people know that I don't need much sleep to function daily, and when I'm not sleeping, I'm either browsing the Internet, watching a movie, playing music, having drinks in a bar or reading.
I can be somewhat impulsive when it comes to books. If someone recommends a book to me, I pretty much immediately buy it and start in on it. So, here's my list of what's rotating on my "now reading" list.
The Novel 100 by Daniel S. Burt The Undertaking by Thomas Lynch It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis American Poetry Since 1915 by Stephen Stepanchev Will in the World by Stephen Greenblatt To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf Ten Theories of Human Nature by Leslie Stevenson & David L. Haberman
See, that's too many books to be switching out night after night (and that's not even counting the poetry books for which I need to read and write reviews). I need to prioritize.
This where you, dear Pimplomat readers, can help. Out of those books listed, please tell me which one I should be primarily reading (I'm about in the same place in all of them).
Thank you. |
posted by pimplomat @ 10:47 PM |
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Art Gallery Crashers |
Sunday, November 06, 2005 |
I always value my friends, and I'm there for them when they need me. Well, after my weekend was dramatically altered on Friday night, I'm appreciating that they are there for me, too.
Many of them don't read this blog (or even know that I write one), but I'd like to take the time to thank some people. Just putting the "thank-yous" in the universe will hopefully put some positive in the world.
Thank you Blair, Katie, Eric, Val, Liz and Tracy for drinks late Friday and for helping keep my head up.
Thank you Chad for the movie during the day on Saturday and for having lunch with me. Thank you Michaela for taking me to the art gallery openings Saturday evening. We have decided to become art gallery crashers for all the free wine and food. And thank you Ryan, Taylor, and Katie (once again) for hanging out with me Saturday night.
Thank you Karen for lunch on Sunday and for going book shopping with me. Thank you Jill for talking with me and understanding what I'm going through.
And finally, but definitely not last, I want to thank Long Division. Long Division and I have been excellent friends for almost three years. She truly is one of my best friends, and she's always there for me during good and bad times. I can always count on her, and I know she's going to shoot straight with me. Thank you Long Division, and I really hope something good comes out of all of this.
It's wonderful to be surrounded by such great people when I'm feeling like shit. I thank you all. |
posted by pimplomat @ 1:45 PM |
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What floor are you? |
Tuesday, November 01, 2005 |
Last night, we handed out nine bags of candy in about an hour and a half. That's with giving out only piece at a time.
On to the topic at hand. I work on the 17th floor, and even though I'd take the stairs, I'm not allowed to, at least not from the first floor. I guess I could take the elevator to the second floor, get off and walk to my floor....I'm getting off topic.
My co-workers and I have decided to label each floor based on who gets off the elevator when it stops. We have no idea what companies are on each floor; we're just going by looks and stereotypes. Don't look at us that way.
Floor 13: The Yuppie Pricks. We base this on their....well, damn! Just look at 'em. And try getting them to say hello to you. They won't. Why? Because they have that damn bluephonestartrekphonething on their ears. We suspect they are lawyers.
Floor 12: The Pretty Girls just out of college in their first job floor. Either they work in advertising or there is an escort service in our building. Then again, maybe those two are the same thing.
Floor 10: 1984. The people who work on this floor stopped buying clothes in 1984. So, in essence, they are hip again.
We only have three floors pegged. This is the type of fun we have at lunch. Once again, don't look at us that way. |
posted by pimplomat @ 10:55 AM |
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