October 31, 2002
cabin of the pirate cat
Reality is stranger than fiction. Where else do you think fiction comes from?
Month: October 2002
October 30, 2002
chillin’ at the luce
I thought I was going insane, but it was just Winamp set to random, cueing up the Muppets’ version of Pennsylvania 6-5000.
barnstormin’ duluth
My father has a plane. I have a camera. We mixed the two. There are some neat pictures of Jay Cooke, and if you’ve never seen it from the air… well… it’s pretty cool. Sawback stone ridges like gears in a great machine, churning the river ever downward into Lake Superior.
October 29, 2002
casual socks
Target is now selling casual socks. They also rent out little kids that will push your cart around for you. I bought a sweater, which is weird because I haven’t worn a long-sleeved shirt for six years. I may change that. My blood isn’t as hot as it once was.
I spent four hours last night reworking the Biography section, which has been renamed Aboot M’eh. There’s a long question-and-answer thing that’s informative. I’ve only changed the indexes, so fret not when you discover that the sub-pages are just as ugly as they were before. If you throw a blanket over your monitor you won’t need to look at them.
October 28, 2002
we could be happy underground
It’s been a neat weekend of two jazz concerts, a combo rehearsal, a cabin by the lake with Al the One-Eyed Short-Tailed Pirate Cat, a sauna, daylight unsavings time, singing in the wagon, tasty omlettes and pizza, swearing in front of an old lady and a little bit o’ homework.
Here’s the current dope. Entries around these parts have been a bit sparse, and have offered an unprecedented amount of linking and non-talking. After mulling this over for a few aeons I decided I don’t really mind the change. I hope you don’t either.
Let’s talk smack about the history of this thing. In December of 1999 I started keeping a journal (the old paper kind) where I would plunk down thoughts, philosophies, experiences, convictions, enemies, plans for world domination, etc… I wrote in it fairly consistently until January 2001, when a cigarette conversation with a fellow music major tipped my world on its axis. I wrote the following on January 21st:
An idea so grand, so shaking that it forces all other thoughts out of your head… something you would have never considered before, but now… a switch has clicked a connection soldered, the expoxy has hardened, the hard drive finished defraggin’… eh… well, dammit, now it makes sense! Why not? Hold it. Consider open doors.
What was I really going to write? drool drool droll droll drool drool drool drool drool drool d—- no… that for sure was not it.
Maybe? Quit pushing in the direction you want to go. Just flow, see where it goes.
That weekend, I held in the breath of this conversation while spinning in a recent discovery of Lileks.com. It was during that weekend I realized that I didn’t want only music. I wanted humor. I wanted wit. I wanted irony.
Wouldn’t you like to be a pepper, too?
Words of my own burned inside my breast. On Febuary 2nd 2001, after a weekend of splashing through the wet alleys of web design, I launched Cromlech version 0.001.
By February 28th I had changed my major from Jazz Studies to Interdisciplinary Studies – Fiction and Non-Fiction Writing. I originally wanted to call it The Philosophy and Techniques of the Scintillate Writer. I’m glad they didn’t allow that.
On March 8th I got the highest score in class on our Music Theory IV midterm.
On March 9th we left for spring break in Dillon, Colorado; a week of hardcore skiing that would bring me back into the downhill circuit for the first time in six years, eventually transferring all my passions to snowboarding. Most importantly, it was a week of guilt-free time away from my saxophone. I was no longer tethered by my responsibilities; I had pulled up anchor and could drift where the current chose, float upon my back, and if perchance a newt swam by I stuff it in my sack.
In May I received an award for getting the highest grade in Music Theory IV. I was no longer a music major.
Summer offered a job reading Kentucky essays, a slow internet connection, and an unfettered hiatus from Cromlech. Fall Semester 2001 brought journalistic realizations, something about four planes, and a sudden interest in politics.
Spring 2002 saw a few new versions of Cromlech glance across the surface of the internet, ending with a fiesty dip in Greymatter and unharnessed web publication. Camp Ihduhapi graced the summer. Last month saw the final dissolution of Cromlech, with Dane’s Bored.com erupting from the ashes.
Same great taste, now with 12 percent more Phoenix meat.
And now, I still need to write. More than ever, I need to channel the flames out of my body to avoid a wildfire of the soul. But exhibitionism is no longer the way and I need to take this whole thing underground. The work that needs to be done right now cannot be made public on a daily basis, as has been possible in the last year or so. A certain larvae would never germinate into a monarch if it spent its days in a chryssalis but left every evening to get drunk and splatter the walls with malted words.
Channeling words is an art, and I’m realizing now that my efforts are to build a piece much larger than this site. I have plans, but they are not finished. My writing is a delicate process that requires a sledge hammer and a chainsaw, and when I make the mistake of exposing the work to the sunlight too early, it evaporates from my hands. I’ve already had to euthanize one short story this semester for that very reason.
I would like to write a book about driving around this country, siphoning truth and meaning from my gas tank. That’s one idea. There are more, about which I will speak no more, for as soon as I proclaim a course of action I risk eliminating other possibilities. Yes, I can just disregard the erronous words in the future, but as soon as the cunieform is set into clay and the clay hardened, it is difficult to chip new thoughts into the stone. Better to maintain a fresh lump of clay until something breathes into my soul and animates my limbs.
To claim I know which direction this swirling orgy of colors is going would be to make false pretenses of knowledge. I gotta keep it real, ya know. No masqurade ball with pink feathers and sparkly masks and volumous breasts spilling out of salmon skins. Just grit. Grit and parties and reality. We’re chock full of that.
I need to write, but I need to write for myself, not for an audience. My journal will burn with the word but you will bear witness only to the result, whatever it is, when it emerges. Gears will continue to spin here, as they have the last few weeks. Perhaps journal entries will end up being transcribed. I know not the course my future will take, nor will I ever claim to know.
I blow on the autumnal winds like a leaf asunder.
This is going to be fun.
Trust me.
October 26, 2002
you know why.
We just bought 350 feet of bubble wrap.
We don’t need bubble wrap.
GO AWAY
Sun Ra: GO AWAY
Sun Ra: COME HERE
Tova: COME BACK
Sun Ra: STOP DEAD
Sun Ra: COME ALIVE
Tova: DEAD ALIVE
Sun Ra: EAT BLOCKS
Tova: EXCRETE TRUCKS
Sun Ra: SECRETE SECRETS
Tova: MESQUITE LEECHES
Sun Ra: BARBEQUED PARASITES
Tova: MOODY PARATROOPERS
Sun Ra: LEUD ERASERS
Tova: COUTH MIMOSAS
Sun Ra: UNCOUTH SOFAS
Tova: DULUTH TROPHIES
Sun Ra: SUPERIOR ATROPHIES
Tova: COURIER GIRAFFES
Sun Ra: MAILBOX CHAFF
Tova: MALE LOX MATE
Sun Ra: FLAIL NUX STATE
Tova: QUAIL CRUX PAINT
Sun Ra: FEATHERED KNOX QUAINT
Tova: MOTHER OF TOXIC SAINTS
Sun Ra: FATHER OF NOXIOUS ANGELS
Tova: SISTER OF SMALL POX BANGLES
Sun Ra: SON OF PINK SOCK JINGLE-JANGLES
Tova: Hahaha
Tova: That sounds like a Ned Flanders’ swear word
October 25, 2002
matter and energy
Yesterday I received this email from Wellstone. Though the body may perish the ideas live on. He was a force, a block of matter and energy, and cannot be destroyed. Whether or not you (or I) agree with the fellow is inconsequential. In the end we all want the same thing and only disagree over method. Liberty thrives through robust debate. Freedom thrives through our contrarians.
October 24, 2002
Dear Mr Petersen:
Thank you for contacting me regarding U.S. policy towards Iraq. I have been hearing from many Minnesotans about their concerns on this very important matter. I appreciate knowing your views.
I do not believe the Bush administration has yet made a case for taking pre-emptive unilateral military action against Iraq. Serious questions about the nature and urgency of the threat posed by Iraq, the range of possible U.S. policy responses, and the consequences of a possible U.S. or allied military attack are still unanswered. Other questions remain about the impact of unilateral military action on our preeminent national security priority, the continuing war on terrorism; on our ongoing efforts to stabilize and rebuild Afghanistan; on efforts to calm the intensifying Middle East crisis, especially the Israeli-Palestinian conflict; and on the dangerous situation between nuclear-armed India and Pakistan.
In the early morning of Friday October 11, the Senate approved the President’s requested resolution to allow him to take military action against Iraq. I opposed the resolution because it would authorize military action now in Iraq – including pre-emptive, go-it-alone military action – even as the US seeks to garner support from our allies on a tough new UN disarmament resolution. I voted in favor of a substitute amendment to improve the resolution, which would have authorized the use of appropriate force by the United States and our allies, pursuant to a new UN Security Council resolution, following exhaustion of efforts to disarm Iraq, in order to obtain compliance by Iraq with its international obligations.
Saddam Hussein is a brutal, ruthless dictator who has repressed his own people, attacked his neighbors, and remains an international outlaw. The world would be a much better place if he were gone and the regime in Iraq were changed. That’s why the US should unite the world against Saddam and not allow him to unite forces against us.
I oppose a go-it-alone approach, allowing ground invasion of Iraq without the support of other countries, because it could give Saddam exactly that chance. A pre-emptive, go-it-alone strategy towards Iraq is wrong. Instead, I support ridding Iraq of weapons of mass destruction through unfettered UN inspections which should begin as soon as possible.
The President has said he has not yet decided to use force against Iraq and that war may yet be avoidable. I believe the primary focus of policy toward Iraq now should be targeted on the verifiable disarmament of that country’s weapons of mass destruction. It is the goal that our allies support, including Britain. It is the goal most likely to be successful, and from which our strategy should flow. I hope the President will focus on disarmament, which will help strengthen and sustain international support, enabling us to be most effective in dealing with Saddam Hussein.
Again, thank you for contacting me. I hope you will continue to stay in touch with me on matters of importance to you.
Sincerely,
Paul David Wellstone
United States Senator
October 24, 2002
cowboy dane’s news round up
Gather round, kiddies! Cowboy Dane has been riding across the desert all night to bring you today’s news round up! Listen close or you’ll get a shiny bullet in the head!
critics blast chevrolet campaign
Chevrolet is linking up with an evangelical concert tour for a marketing campaign, a move criticized as crossing the line between religion and the board room.
The “Chevrolet Presents: Come Together and Worship” stage shows begin Nov. 1 in Atlanta and end at the Palace at Auburn Hills on Nov. 23.
Chevy Trucks: The holiest fucking truck on the fucking road.
The Chevrolet tour includes a multimedia worship service with preaching by the Rev. Max Lucado, a Texas pastor and author, and a distribution of free evangelical literature. The headline musicians, Michael W. Smith and the rock band Third Day, are among popular acts in the contemporary Christian music genre.
“I want an American car!”
Someone call Doug and Sandy about this one.
Right on.
aspirin ok after bypass surgery
I’m glad the little guy pulled through.
lives of men in sniper case studied
When I first glanced at this one I thought it said ‘livers’, and I thought it was a bloody twist on tea-leaf readings. “Oh, there’s the problem. He’s been doing all this off a bad bottle of gin from ’92.”
Just like that, you can quit ’em. Cold turkey. Like cigarettes.
snowstorm closes Nebraska roads
More than 6 inches of snow fell in North Platte, prompting some truck drivers and motorists to take refuge at the Flying J Travel Plaza.
Cashier Julie Edwards said business was brisk and coffee was the popular purchase. Some customers planned to stay overnight, hoping for better traveling conditions Thursday.
Being stuck in Nebraska is the cruelest of fates. Unless you got stranded at the Pr0no Barn, then I suppose it would be ok. Or not. The people there were weird. Weird pr0n cowboys.
October 22, 2002
is it hot house corn?
VodkaPundit summed up my doldrums pretty damn well.
It’s one of those nights when the world glares, stomps its foot, and flat out refuses to do anything interesting for me. I’d love to entertain you with some quick wit, or more of the vicious humor you keep coming here for, but the Earth is sometimes a Prima Donna, locked in her dressing room because there are too many yellow M&M’s in her bowl. She just won’t come out and play, and you just can’t understand why.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. The ’90s were, except to scandal mongers, a pretty dull decade — but I’d happily settle for another stock market bubble, another phony peace, and some more seriously unserious politics. I’d take another Florida Presidential election brouhaha over our real world, any time. Al Gore demanding a semi-recount, weeks after the election? Remember when Maureen Dowd seemed relevant? How delightfully quaint.
It’s a strange time when we’d ‘settle’ for some not-really-so-good times.
Things haven’t been very funny around here for awhile, and I don’t like it that way. I’ve been doing a lot of digging and reading and hand-wringing and plotting, and none of these things give me the time to space out and focus something long enough to tap into its humor. I don’t really want to be a political commentator (or a whiny doomsaying teenage wasteland were-blogger) at the current point in my life. I want to have fun. I want to make fun. I want to make fun of things.
Today I saw a Green Giant cardboard box that boasted it brimmed with “Niblets”. Under the word was its equivalent spelled out in Chinese, and it made me laugh.