(10:45:50 PM CST)

Bug. Government. Taxes. Painters of Light. Whole Shebang.

Sarah and I went to see Bug tonight (ze Vikipedia Articul). That's the play, not the movie. I've not seen the movie. I've seen bits of the movie, but not the movie. Kind of like if you read a piece of a book, you haven't read the book. If you just touch pieces of her, you haven't touched her, that sort of thing. The play was put on by Renaissance Theatre which I know next to nothing about except where it is located, how looks on the inside, and that it has a website. And, when leaving, people will hit your car with their car, and drive off. Don't know who did that, but it would have been polite to stop. I'm sure it only happens on rare occasion, but it has happend 100% of the time I have attended. Take it for what it's statistically worth (read: not much).

I consumed candy and soda after leaving because I was too drained. Now I'm too [insert the opposite of drained]. Spastic. No, that makes me sound like colon. Jittery? Yeah, we'll go with that.

Tickets are $12. I don't know how to segue from that to something else, so I won't. The play utilizes only one scene, and five characters, with most the screen time dedicated to two: Agnes and Peter. Agnes's life is in a downward spiral. Well, damn near rock bottom, really. She is terrified of her ex-husband. She lives in a ratty motel room in Alabama. She mostly hangs out with a friend who is prone to drama and scrapes enough money to drink booze and smoke all day. One night her friend brings over Peter, a strange, off-putting man who is quiet and speaks cryptically. Agnes is drawn to him, and invites him to stay. He talks about being able to see things that others don't pick up on and apologizes for bringing her into it. Agnes's ex-husband shows up and becomes quickly abusive and assertive. He confronts Peter, which leads to a long series of confessions between Peter and Agnes. They end up sleeping together and that night Peter finds a bug in the bed that Agnes can't see at first, but she begins to see them everywhere, too. From then on, the play is about their continued descent into insanity as well as their desperate love for one another and fear of everyone else.

The acting at first was a little stilted, and the timing of effects was a bit weird, but as the plot strengthens, the acting did as well and by the end the actor playing Agnes (alas, I seem to have left the program in the car so you'll have to forgive me for not naming names) scored several emotional hits and Peter, who took some warming up, started to blend intelligence and insanity into his diction just right. The direction is good, especially the "montage" scene that helped speed the whole thing towards its end. I recommend seeing it, but it's essentially a story about how these people lives bottom out without any real hope for redemption, so keep that in mind. It's not a thing that you enjoy, it's a thing you appreciate. There are only two more showings (Friday and Saturday).

Let's see, other odd things. An LJ friend posted a link to a quiz (LINK TO QUIZ!) about civic literacy. In other words, history and economics and politics. I got 31 of the 33 correct. I submit this, however, under protest because one of the ones I got wrong (#33) I did so because of the way the answer was worded. However, the other one I merely looked at it wrong and failed to note a distinction I should have. If you go and look at the findings, though, there are some horrible things. A lot of people don't know basic American concepts, and usually the "citizens at large" beat out the "elected officials" taking the test.

For those not in the know, one of my big concepts of change I'm likely to push if I ever run for political office is revamping the school system so that it requires economics, civil history, constitutional law, and logic/rhetoric in order to pass high school. Reading, Riting, and Rithmatic is a bad, bad standard. Especially when the most direct use of public schools should be creating citizens that understand how their own government works. A small ratio of us use math or science above a certain degree (by the way, we should retain these, I'm not saying replace them) but we tend to live constitutional law, civic history, logic, and the like.

To end my ramble of the day, just three things. One, those people at the Miracle of the Dead Sea kiosk are amazingly annoying. One grabbed my hand today and tried pulling me toward the kiosk (along with a joke about "How many wives do you have, sir?"). Two, when I was walking around with some fliers, some guy thought I was handing out resumes, and apparently was almost ready to hire me on the spot. When I walked off he got agitated and ended up finding me downstairs to just glare at me.

Now, for this last bit of news, you might want to sit down. Of course, you probably are with the whole "surfing the net" thing, but just in case, lean on something really hard. Brace yourself. Ready? Thomas "Painter of Light" Kinkade (Wiki) is coming to Huntsville this Sunday!!! I'm sure the Wiki has a link to some personal page with info. I bring it up mostly to be silly, but for those who want to (a) heckle or (b) tell a grandparent, there you go. I mostly find it funny, because I can't help but ask "Wonder what he's going to piss on in Huntsville?" That, and I know most of my friends either hate him or couldn't give a rat's ass if it was made of stale caramel. There are people that just adore the man, though. Oh, he has some movie coming out? I have no idea...awesome, maybe?

Si Vales Valeo

(11:49:07 PM CST)

Sex Survey Thingie (For Some Reason)

So, this "sex" survey thing is going around except it is about 26 question on sex, and others that aren't. Which is weird. With that many questions on sex, it seems that the whole point is to be about sex, and someone wussed out. I wussed in, however, and brought us back to topic, more or less.

1. Is there anyone on your friends list you would ever consider having sex with? Yes. In fact, there is one that I do have sex with. Outside of that, I'm...I mean, how much money are we talking about? All at once or payment plans? Freebies, however? Sure, why not. Like, I don't know, three people?*

2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night? Um. Well, someone's not a morning person. And someone goes to bed early. And let's just say someone's porridge is just right, and leave it at that.

3. On which side of the bed do you sleep? Widdershins from the head.

4. Pork, beef, or chicken? What does this have to do with sex?

5. Have to pull over on side of road to puke? After sex? During? What? There are signs to slow it down, to live at least a little less la vida kinky, and this is one of them.

6. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money? No, but I've paid people to watch me take my clothes off**.

7. Shower or bath? Shower is definitely a better place to have sex. Bath gets all splashy.

8. Do you pee in the shower? HAHAHA, ewwww. Ixnay on the oldengay owersshay.

9. Mexican or Chinese? That's racist. And definitely Chinese.

10. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed? Um. Hmmm. Moderate is sort of my option. Agressive leads to bruises and deep scratches. Passive leads to the sensation of despair. Passive aggressive leads to "Are you sure, dear? Tonight? Are you up to it?" being used as a weapon meant to make you question your masculinity (or so I have been told).

11. Do you love someone on your friends list? I'll repeat my answer to number 4: What does this have to do with sex?

12. Do you know all the people on your friends list? I don't know who is on my friend's list, much less whether or not I know them.

13. Love or money? ...do you mean am I gay?

14. Credit cards or cash? What kind of prositute takes charge?*** Cash!

15. Has there ever been anyone in your family you wish wasn't? See nos. 4 and 11. Except I could assume you mean "So that they would then be available for lovings?" Before I answer "Yes" to that, keep in mind this is Alabama, and that is moot point.

16. Would you rather go camping or to a 5 star hotel? Latter. I like roughing it with my honey, but getting honey in the rough sounds like no fun.

17. What is the weirdest place you have had sex? I...don't know this one. I mean, I assume I do know, but I'm not sure. I guess I'll leave it up to these eight words: Monte Sano. Teenagers behind us. Got nervous, they.

18. Would you shave your entire body (including your head) for money? I like the "including your head" part, like that's what this question is really about. My wifey doesn't quite go for the newborn baby look, hence the reason she is married to a fairly hairy, bearded guy. No. Lot's of cash? Yes.

19. Have you ever been to a strip club? I don't think so.

20. Ever been to a bar? Yes? Sex bar? No. The Rectum? Are you La Tenia?!

21. Ever been kicked out of a bar or a club? Not for having sex.

22. Ever been so drunk you had to be carried out of somewhere? I've...no

23. Kissed someone of the same sex? I think so, but never with feeling...ladies.

24. Favorite drink? Eww?

25. Had sex in a movie theater? Only if you count that gods-breath long orgy at the beginning of the second Matrix movie. We all had slow, awkward sex with Keanu Reeves that night.

26. Had sex in a bathroom? Yes, but nothing involving a toilet, because eww. Except, well, no. I mean, ixnay on the blumpkin-eww, ok?

27. Have you ever had sex at work? Never while I was on the clock...at least...no, I signed out first.

28. Have you ever been in an "adult" store? Of course not, those things offend the good, sweet citizens of Alabama.

29. Bought something from an adult store? Yes. But rarely anything that would involve me. Directly...involve, me. I mean, I would presumably be in the same room.

30. Have you been caught having sex? Thin walls. Loudish...moments. Yes. Visible confirmation? I...don't know. I think not, but my friends are perverts.

31. Does anyone have naughty pics of you? I don't know. And that's scary to me.

32. Have you ever called someone the wrong name during sex? I don't say names during sex because my mind, as expansive as he or she may be, is a dick of the most magnanimous caliber and would love to share fun for everyone.

33. Who do you think has the guts to repost this? You know who you are.

Si Vales, Valeo

*: I may or may not have stated a specific number just to make Sarah get curious. The actualy number may or may not be lower...ladies.

**: I'm talking about a doctor. Cold hands. Good bedside manner.

***: I'm strangely ok if they accept Paypal. "Do you wish to send funds to bum2gob_cindy@irishwhores.net?"

(11:18:35 AM CST)

Lost Dreams, Irreversible, Odd Mood Swings

There was a post about a dream I had, involving trying to find two orphans that I felt an attachment toward, and the ups and downs of investigating in a dream world where common sense is hard to find. It was lost, because I apparently didn't save it and just had it up in edit mode when the power went out last night. It's probably for the best, there wasn't much to be said for it. I just posted it to my journal for record keeping because it was one of those dreams that had a sense of vividness to it. It also had what could be construed as far more of an ending than most dreams.

The power outage hit, what?, about 2am. Maybe 3? I woke up to the sound of silence and darkness, and didn't really think much of it. Until Sarah tapped me and said the power was out. I realized, then, that I had noticed the power being out and had mostly assumed "c'est la vie". The absolute cutest thing for anyone who has read The Road was when I heard a couple of muffled thumps and saw a flash of light come through our curtain. Still don't know what that was, possibly a neighbor coming out to see with a flashlight? Maybe a transformer blowing? Lightning? Anyhow, my response to that was largley "c'est la vie" as well, or maybe I should say "c'est la fin du monde".

This morning, I've had a hard time waking up. I'll get to why in a bit. That's going to be a joke, since I'm going to talk about something that happened first, last. You won't get the joke for a moment.

I watched Irréversible this morning (IMDB.com entry, Wikipedia entry). This might have been to remind me why I hate the world. This was mostly to remind me why I hate French films. Hate is a strong word, and it is not universally true. I enjoy several French movies. However, my enjoyment of a French film is inversely proportional to the square of the frankness (pun intended?) of sexuality in a French film. When French films take a "frank look at sex" it often involves teenagers getting raped, incest, genitalia mutilation, sadomasochism, and, in one memorable instance, poo-eating. The eating of poo. You don't get more frank than that. I digress, horrifically. Let me start again.

I watched Irréversible, again. It's a right bastard of a fillum. Without going into much in the way of spoilers, the film is about revenge, except it starts out with the aftermath of revenge. Then it shows the revenge. Then it shows the build up. Then it shows the build up to that. Then it shows the attack. Then it shows what led up to the attack. Then it shows what led up to people being so fucked up that they were in a position to lead up to an attack. Then it shows you some sweet loving scenes. And, look, how happy the couple are.

By reversing the footage, you get the one thing the film does well. It robs you of the standard process of digesting a film. Normally you start with a happy couple. You see some breakdown in their machine. They have a fight. Something is exposed. Then the horror hits and you realize that you should be on the look out for horror at any given time. This movie, though, starts out showing all of the horrible imagery and then moves backward, and shows you how happy the couple was before great douchery got involved, and ends at this tremendously loving scene and you go and gouge out your eyes because you realize you just let a French movie make you hate yourself and the world around you. It, of course, suffers from the same basic problem that a movie that plays in forward suffers from. You lose a sense of the sweetness in the standard plot. By time the horror happens, you have somewhat left the beginning behind. That is true, here, too. By the time the sweetness occurs, you've kind of forgotten horror. It doesn't help that the director shoots the beginning scenes (that happen later in the timeline) in a different sort of style than the ending scenes, it feels almost like two movies that meet up at a party, one is a drama and the other some sort of splatterpunk film.

At the core of the movie is an extended anal rape scene. Single take, nine minutes or so. With much brutality following. Alot of the debate about the movie centers around this scene (as pretty much the movie itself does, I haven't checked but I think that scene is about dead center). People fight over whether the scene is realistic, too much, silly, effective, and all other sorts of adjectives you would hope you would never have to apply to any phrase involving "extended anal rape". For my two cents, it's a wastrel of a scene, an interloper that tries to make it too real. It feels, to me, like a couple of actors trying to bring this horror to life but being actors with it. There is just something off with the motion, the reaction. When you force a camera to shoot such a scene, with two people who are not actually having that happen to them, you expose little bits that make it feel unreal. The violence afterwards feels more real, but even that has a certain quality that frustrates because it tries to be real when obviously it isn't. The most heart rending portion of the scene is when a witness comes up, and then sees what is going on, and runs off.If I was the director, I would have shot it from the viewpoint of the witness. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe that's the most realistic scene ever, but it just seems to me that a shortened version that didn't try and go for realistic and went more for immediate reaction would have been more effective. Had they removed the scene in it's entirety, the movie would have worked about as well. The horrors we can't imagine often outspeak the ones we can, and this seems true of film. Violence must be tightly controlled and realism must be tightly held in check, or it forces the audience to pay too close of attention, and things go awry.

Anyhow, my view of the movie hasn't changed much from the first viewing. I'm still slightly unsure why anyone would want to watch it, outside of existential debates about the futility of happiness, and on top of that most of the acting didn't quite work for me this time and the camera work (with the exception of the scene where she walks into the tunnel) just never quite worked. You know what they say, les visionnements de répétition détruisent tout.

Yesterday was a weird day. I had at least two bouts of odd mood swing. I guess it's just something built up that I had to get off, because I do feel better today. Almost too relaxed, even. Last night, while washing dishes, I became so irritated at this little Tupperware type thing (it refused to sit in the washer properly) that I snatched it up from where it was wedged and tossed to the a side. I heard the sound of plastic cracking, and when I picked it up there were a couple of breaks in it. I then smashed it to the floor a couple of good times and shattered it. I was quite furious at the time (one has to be to be able to smash Tupperware to bits).

Earlier, getting on the bus to come home, I heard the woman in front of me asking about the Space and Rocket Center. I felt this urge to point out to her that we were on the Number 4 (University/Wal-mart) Loop but she was wanting the Tourist Loop, which met on the other side of the mall. Except I wasn't sure that's exactly what she asked, and I wasn't 100% sure what time it was and if she would be able to find the other entrance without missing the bus anyhow (going to the transfer station and then taking the Tourist Bus would definitely work, except that she would have to wait for nearly an hour). I kind of felt like I should have gotten back off and then walked her and her friend to the other side and made sure they got on, but I didn't becuase I was tired and felt out of it and wasn't 100% what she had said or the other things. Then I felt like crap for an hour. I'm now mostly over it, but I still kind of wish I had at least said something. Even if she didn't have time to make it to the Tourist Loop on the other side of the mall, then waiting in the mall might have been preferable to waiting at the visitor center (or maybe not). I don't know.

Puny human emotions.

Si Vales, Valeo

(02:51:18 PM CST)

Questionably Handling of Documents, Answer to Student Loan Question

"and some great bellies ache with many bumblebees, and they sting so terribly"

I'm resting up after work, which was actually kind of a restful shift today. My legs are a tad bit tired from a 4 mile hike yesterday, but nothing major. I mostly feel good to have moved about in a way that wasn't largely standing still. In the way of all retail shifts, and hydrogen atoms, the day was a mixture of activity and empty space. Today the space was a bit wider than activity, and last shift the activity was a bit wider than the space. I'm sure there is some formula.

Probably the cutest incident to occur today was being handed a packet of information designed to help "specialty" retail do well during the season. It had a handful of tips (I want to say 25, but that might be a certain subconscious Christmas link bubbling up) that were sure to drive business. That's the term used when retailers talk to retailers about increasing profits. I suppose it implies that the retailer is the ultimate controller of how well business does. It implies a state of activity, as opposed to the traditionally perceived inter-/re-active business in which the customer's desires set the basic flow. You do not sell stuff, you drive the business. You do not fill a need, you create one. Et and Cetera.

The humor largely came out of the message of the packet, which was clearly meant for managerial ears. There were such gems as "hire often and fire often to bring focus to heavy volume sellers", "enforce breaks because it helps the worker to smile more", and "forbid eating in the work place because customers do not feel comfortable disturbing workers". A fair amount of the paper was how upselling increases customer satisfaction because they get products they did not know they even wanted. What proof is offered for this? "Survey after survey shows customers prefer knowledgable workers." That's right, the logic goes that people who upsell and suggest add-ons know their product, therefore customers are happier buying things they did not want because it convinces them they bought from someone who knows product. Bullshit? The truth? Honestly, a little bit of both. And I do agree with the statement that customers often don't ask for help even if they need it and sometimes letting them know you are there is a necessary icebreaker.

The bit about demonstrations made me laugh, though. "Teach your workers to give demonstrations." I would love to see that one put into place. "With this wondrous device, you can literally tell what the date is!" Somehow, though, thinking about it, calendars strike me as one of those devices hard to explain if the person doesn't already get it. "What if I don't know what day of the week it is? What if I'm confused by how many weeks the month has already had?" That's an awesome question, by the way. Have you ever thought about how hard it is to use the calendar if you don't currently have the information the calendar gives you?

Enough of that. I got back home and found that the number 718-475-3725 called me about 8 billion times this morning, and 12 billion times last week. That's hyperbole, but they had called about every two hours from the hours of 9am through maybe 5pm since sometime last week. I mostly haven't been there to get the call, so I've not been ignoring them so much as ignoring them. Meaning that I haven't been skipping out on answering them so much as not paying attention to the random number calling five times a day and not leaving a message. Today, though, a call came through when I was here and so I looked it up. Turns out it's another student loan collection agency, which I wrote about some problems with a few weeks back. I called them and asked them what was up, and they told me that they had been looking for a Michael Chiles. I don't know who that is, and I know he hasn't had this phone number for nigh on 4 years, and I told them that. They apologized and said they wouldn't call again. I'll wait and see how that works.

Si Vales, Valeo

(09:31:02 PM CST)

Educashional Fillums. Crack in Space.

I'm currently downloading about 600 meg of educational films, what could be politely called "propaganda films designed by fringe groups, supported by tax payer dollars, and shoved unto children via class room environments" except that doesn't make a good acronym. PFDBFGSTPDSUCVCRE. PuhFiDbifig...you get the point. This is inpsired partially by by this Cracked.com article and more specifically by this clip they link to in the article. You need to wait for the last few seconds of dialogue. It makes it all worthwhile:

Ok. I lied. It either crushes your soul or exposed it as a dark, shriveled mass that laughs at bad jokes. I choose "B", by the way. Maybe you will, too.

Telling frumpy women to pretty themselves up so I can feel like a human, aside, the other weird thing of the day was me reading through Philip K. Dick's Crack In Space (man, that's an unfortunate flow of words). The reason I read it is because it is unnerving. Written in 1966, it talks about the first black president (what the book refers to as "Cols"). While not necessarily prescient in and of itself, so many of the side quotes are scarily similar. Claims that he is trying to drive good white people out of jobs. The realization that he has inherited a lot of problems and so will have to spend his entire term, if he gets in, trying to fix others mistakes. His opponents already playing the game of "if it works, it was the last guy's idea, if it doesn't work, then it's your problem". Last minute crisis changes everything. Attacks on empty rhetoric. People jumping on him before he even takes office for things that he should fix. Discussions of assassinations. The questions of how to get resources to people who don't have any. What is also kind of crazy is the political parties. You have Republican-Liberals and States-Rights-Conservative-Democrats, which sounds backwards until you play out what the words actually mean. Republican implies you believe the government should oversee the people, not be directly influenced by it. Which party seems to make those claims? Democrat implies you are a populist movement who is direclty working for the little man. Which party makes those claims?

Even though it's climax is one of the worst in any PKD book I have read, the build up to it is one of the best. Humans are desperately overpopulated and they find a tear in space that leads to a new world. They start making plans to go over and waken up their millions of cryogenically frozen citizens. Except the world is inhabited. When a technological gaffe occurs, the plans start crumbling.

Interesting book which disturblingly mirrors the rhetoric of the recent election, enough to give me a sense of deja vu.

Si Vales, Valeo

(10:56:34 PM CST)

More pics from the concert, other random notes about "Let the Right One In"

Found out from my sister-in-law that there was at least a brief "Meet and Greet" after the concert for fans that has bought the CD. That sucks that we missed it. Maybe for the best in that it would have largely played out as us waiting in another line for who knows how long to get a CD hastily signed and a couple of polite greetings exchanged, and then would have sat out for home an hour more exhausted and still without a good plan on how to get out of the city and not knowing if our car had been towed by shady dealings. Still, though, suck. However, we had a bass pick personally thrown at us. I think that wins in many ways.

Alicia posted the "rest stop" pictures. My favorite one is below, but mostly because it is obviously an "action shot" but the action makes almost no sense. Is Alicia about to pounce Sarah? Is Sarah being blasted sideways by a psychic blast? Does Sarah really have to pee? Is Alicia terrified of the camera? How is Sarah maintaining her "photoshoot smile" in the midst of all of this? And so on. I will just leave you with the teaser and work on putting them in a photo gallery or something later:

I'm almost done reading Let the Right one In. If you are, like me, mostly concerned with vampires when they are honest to damned goodness vampires, and none of this frilly little things, then you might like the book. If you also like your horror novels to be as much about the despair of the human condition (remember the quote: "Horror is the new punk.") as boogeymen, then you might like this novel. If you want to be creeped out by Sweden, then this is a one stop masterpiece.

It seems that, in America, vampires have divided into three rough groups and all of them trade power for social coherence. You have your Matheson derivatives, in which there are tons of vampires who tend to cling together in tribes or rough groups and have some sort of tribal structure but are largely beatable by kids or really determined old men and are backed down in fun ways (holy water condoms, chopstick crosses, etc). Your second group is your Rice derivatives. These tend to dominate right now. They are hot, sexy vampires who are mostly about bemoaning their condition while playing complex political games. When they feed, it causes sexual desire in their victim. Roughly half of them are good guys who only feed on bad people or feed so little from their victims that they keep the relationship going for years. They almost always require their victim to also drink their blood to transmute the curse (and it is almost always a curse, as opposed to biological infection). Last you have the Elrod derivatives, who are solo vampires trying to fit with society at large, usually by being a detective or reporter. At some point in time, a loved one will get mortally wounded, and questions about the morality of saving them by infection will come up.

Yet the core of the vampire mythos in the west is still the concept of an extremely powerful, very evil being who stays alive because he or she is ok with sacrificing hundreds of lives for their own. Yes, there are sex and social concepts in early vampire novels, but old school vampires are a force of death. Crops wither in their presence. People become distraught for no apparent reason. Babies are born deformed. A single vampire will require a group of dedicated hunters who can resist their traps, their games, and their lure. I'm not saying all vampire novels need to be like this, but it's fun to finally read a novel that actually treats them as something to be feared as opposed to something that is designed to make girls giggle (or to make boys picture killing en masse in a run down bar south of the border).

What is interesting, considering Twilight's and Anita Blake's current hold on the genre, is that Let the Right One In is also largely about a love story of sorts, and in many ways a heartbreakingly sweet one, except it is a twelve year old boy who is bullied at school, and the vampire he falls in love with, despite outward apperances as a enigmatic twelve-year old girl, is something that kills and kills bloodily. Whether she does it willingly is something to be read or watched (the movie is coming out, watch the redband trailer to see more, if you want).

(09:39:12 PM CST)

Random Links Post!

I've picked up a few links, here or there, and figured I would share some with you.

(1) "This is what I always do. I'm like, O.K., God, if there is an open door for me somewhere, this is what I always pray, I'm like, don't let me miss the open door." Warning: Folksy Language Ahead! Bonus: What Palin really thinks of Barack Obama and the year 2012.

(2) Dear Penthouse Forum, I never thought it could happen to me. Then the bitch walked in, gorgeous blonde with red-tips, big brown eyes, long legs, firm stomach, and a tail that just wouldn't quit. She practically backed me into a corner. Warning: That last line is a quote from the article. Also: Bestiality. Also: Jesus H. Christ at the "lovingly stroking the bitches' teats" quote. Bonus: hot homo sapeiens blonde at the bar to the right. Worst (or best) pic to article match-up ever?

(3) Hello. My name is Franz Reichelt. I built this proto-type bat cape thing that would enable me to fly before Batman was even born. Then I jumped off the Eiffel Tower. I died. Bonus: 5 other folk including "hold your Wee for a Wii" woman and the man who tried to demonstrate that a window 24 stories off the ground would take him slamming into it. Warning: TWICE! HE SLAMMED INTO IT TWICE!

(4) Kill Zombies Old Arcade Style. Warning: LOUD. Bonus: Um...see link?

(5) Sure Obama is ahead in the polls, but doesn't the Bradley Effect pretty much dictate that his single point lead will actually turn into a victory for McCain? Or is this a case where, for the first time ever, polls are amazingly accurate? Nah, must be a "McCain Effect" where people say they will vote for an old white man but don't. That's it. Warning: It's Al.com. Bonus: I don't know if there is one, unless you are the kind of guy that loves it when statistics come together.

(6) You want one good reason to spend like crazy this Christmas? To stop the end of the world as we know it!. Ok, not really. But let's not forget the real victims of the economic crunch, and some are bigger victims than others. Warning: Wal-mart is doing just fine. Bonus Warning: Articles like this get published every year right before Christmas season, this might be the first time it's actually true.

Si Vales, Valeo

(07:34:30 AM CST)

Twelve Step Program to Feel Your Age

Sipping through some homemade sweetened black tea and listening to Opeth's new(ish?) album Watershed. Progressive Black Metal with some folkish inserts. Entertaining, both of them. Now, let me relate to you a twelve step program towards feeling your age.

Friday, met up with Allen and Austin (who were both back in town) so we could go to MASALA (on Jordan, near the Holmes intersection) with their parents for lunch. Masala used to be Vinnie's Authentic Indian. Excellent food for a buffet. About ten with tip (I got water, so maybe a bit more with a drink). A wider mix than what I've seen as the standard "Indian Buffet", including something called Chicken '65 that was hot enough to be noticed. I tried random things and enjoyed most of them. Recommend, amongst several other things, the Chickpea Masala and the Potato Stew, which is surprisingly spicy. There was a chicken dish called something like "Makini" or "Mahani" or something that was good. It didn't use much meat at all, was mostly an orange, sort of sweet curry sauce.

Then, the brothers Drago and I headed down to the HUMIDOR, Huntsville's own pipe and cigar shop, just to browse around. It has been about six months since I have been in there. Pipes seem largely on their way out, with a few of the diehard pipers swapping over to cigars, and most of the non-diehards tend toward cigars anyhow. I don't get to look at expensive pipes that browsers are showing off much anymore. I found a good mid-quality pipe and put it aside in layaway, picked up a couple of ounces of the extreme vanilla (and local) blend known as "Big Spring Vanilla", and a small black pouch which will be for Virginias once I get that plastic smell out.

Afterwards we came back here and played SETTLERS OF CATAN (with more "distribution of wealth" and "overtaxed industry" jokes than what were good for us). They smoked a couple of mid-ring Churchill's (see above point about cigars v. pipes in popularity) while I broke out my original, now four year old Full Bent Grabow and lit up some BSV. After about an hour and a half, Allen managed to win for what he says is the first time in his whole history of playing the game. To fill the gap between the time they had to go and the time it was, a difference of about a half hour was needed, and so we played POSTSECRET BINGO. You each get one of the Postsecret books, name some secret from horrible to banal, and then you see who can find a secret of that category the first. The categories included: abortion, rape, strange sexual fetish, and someone who hates their job. Some interpretation has to be used.

That night, Sarah and I went out SHOPPING to pick up some stuff for her weekend outfit. At Victoria's Secret we got one of the new "Miracle" bras which I suppose is a joking one-upsmanship against the "Wonder" bra. They do seem to accomplish the hard-to-accomplish feat of handling fair sized breasts, showing off cleavage without using some painful trickery, and giving actual support. Take it for what it's worth but the brand gets both the wife and husband's thumbsup, wink and a wink and a nudge nudge. We then picked up some black lipstick and some fingernail polish from Hot Topic and a crucifix bauble from Hobby Lobby.

So, we are pretty much around to where the weekend got long and tiring, eh? Let's start it, then.

Alicia got here about 10am and we started getting ready for our trip. Some of you know what I'm talking about, for those that don't, we were going down to see DIR EN GREY in Atlanta. They don't have a lot of American tourdates, so this was something of a once-or-twice in a lifetime trip for Alicia, to see her favorite band. Those that know the band probably have an immediate "awesome" or "Jesus-god, why?" reaction. My truly lukewarm right up until the spitting out mindset makes me go "They're ok". If I had my druthers, the one Japanese band that has occasional tour dates in the States whom I would adore a chance to see would be the Pillows, but until that happens, DEG isn't a bad stand-in.

The INITIAL TRIP was not too bad. We took 72, minded the 13 miles of construction for about fifty foot actually containing men doing anything, and then shot for I-24 right past the state line. Took that towards Chattanooga, and then took I-75 south for the last half of the trip. Somewhere in here we stopped off at a rest area and took some pictures (which I kept proclaiming to be "Our last happy photo together before the horror started. It was like you could draw a line in their life....") that I would like to get (poke, poke, Alicia). We didn't stop much besides said rest area (the one time, at a McDonald's in Scottsboro, Sarah and Alicia got hit on by a teenage boy trying to show off his drawing of Obama, which really could have went either way).

I actually got a handful of pages from Let the Right One In read, which was pretty cool. Used to, couldn't read while going down the road. Motion sickness would have caused me to get very dizzy. Didn't really bother me this time.

However, the END OF THE TRIP was where all the frustration and confusion really began. Exit 250 noted that some detour work was going on, which could have but didn't change our directions. The one road we need to turn on wasn't marked, leading to having to go down and then come back so that we could scoot over to 17th street. We then found West Peachtree and saw the already huge line (this is about an hour and a half before the doors open, about four hours before DEG was to show up) but soon after turning unto Peachtree the road did some fork, we weren't sure exactly where to park so we said "let's go up a little ways and then we can loop around the block and pick". Except there was no "around the block". There was merely some long, limited access corridor that led us about four or five miles out of the way with no way to turn around. We eventually went down a slightly decayed street or two and got back on the freeway just so we could get off on another exit and come in from something like the opposite direction. We picked the first parking garage we could find, which seemed a tad shady but fuck it, we were there.

Then came THE LINE which was about as awesome as you can imagine. Hundreds of teenagers wearing black frills and make up, smoking cloves, talking about how people just don't get them, how funny rape would be if used in advertising, blowing bubbles, snarking about how they were gothier than some other person, and how some of the hotter goths were just skanks. They said this last bit (their wording was something about "Look at me, I'm attractive and a goth. Such a skank!") about the time Sarah and Alicia were coming back from the car after dropping off some stuff and taking the below picture, while I waited in line. They may have been talking about the sisters Ridout, because they shut up for a few seconds after they realized the large guy in front of them might know the two people approaching, but that is mostly circumstantial evidence. However, if you saw the two guys in question, they weren't the kind that shut up much, so it actually makes for something of a strong case.

My gothic attire, by the way, was a large black t-shirt, loose fitting jeans, comfortable shoes, and a well-read copy of Vonnegut's Palm Sunday (yes, I took two books with me on a day trip, shut up). I win. Well, I would, if it was 1993 goths I was standing around.I miss the days when the intelligoth overshadowed the emogoth. Sarah and Alicia were wearing largely homemade outfits, which made me quite proud of them, since so much of the goth culture now is essentially just whatever Hot Topic says it is, as opposed to a handcrafted style.

PRIOR THE CONCERT I found a trio of seats that were awesome. Third row back, dead even with the stage, and just out of the pit enough that you could watch everything going on in it without having to actually be in it. Then, I got to do the awesomist brother-in-law act ever and go and stand in another line for 20-30 minutes. This was to pick up some swag for Alicia. Skipping to the end, here, she got a concert shirt and a CD/DVD before it is released anywhere else (it doesn't officially come out until next week). I missed the beginning of The Human Abstract, but that was largely ok. They were pleasantly loud in concert, enough to hurt, but I can recall nothing about them outside of their constant naming of themselves "This is The Human Abstract, and this song is..." and I think he said something about "revolution" at some point in time. Oh, and he stage dived a couple of times and both times barely made it back to the stage, with help from security guards, because the pit was unable to hoist him up properly.

THE CONCERT itself was awesome enough. They have an interesting stage show, largely consisting of the band playing and Kyo running around and jumping up on this little ministage in the middle and warbling and vocalising and screaming while the backscreen has images and videos playing on it. Nothing unique, but definitely enough of a show to justifying seeing them live if you like them in-studio. The whole shebang lasted a good number of songs, and Alicia danced the whole time and Sarah danced for most of it. I sat, but partially because I didn't want to be in anyone's way (the average height of the concert goer was probably about half a foot shorter than me), except towards the end. They played the four or five songs I wanted to hear live, so I consider it a win. Potentially the coolest bit came towards the end in which Toshiya, looking right at Sarah and Alicia, threw the pick he had been using at them (and, after a moment's hassle we were able to get it). Alicia now has this unexpected memoir. My ears ringing, my head feeling like the loud drums and bass had changed its shape, we headed home.

Except, of course, we knew nothing about leaving the area. THE TRIP HOME came to its first wrinkle when the directions given to us by an absolutely massive security guard (massive, his arms were the size of my thighs) turned out to require us knowing that the one little unmarked street we passed had a name. We got a tiny bit lost, and then a helpful convenience store worker gave us directions to get out which worked a lot better, but we were confused by the fact that there are two exits to get on I-75 North (the express and the normal). Since we counted, essentially, as a car pool, we ended up having to take the express exit rather than try and circle back towards the normal one. After which, though, we headed home with barely any incident (outside of being slammed by exhaustion around Scottsboro, which is what I assume most people from Scottsboro feel just being alive). Total trip was about 14 hours, with roughly 7.5 of those on the road, 2 of those in line, 1.5 of those waiting for things to begin, and 3 of those being things.

Next day was a recoup day. We went to Kroger and got some bread and cheese and tea. Then to Garden Cove were I picked up some various squash and other veggies and made a thick squash, beef, and cabbage soup to help return some vitamins and anti-oxidants to the blood. Sarah and I lounged around after Alicia had left and watched some X-Files episodes and stayed warm. We finally passed out, and how.

I felt kind of old on Sunday, but today I feel a lot better. I'm not too old to take such trips, but I'm old enough to need more than a six pack and a bed to sleep one off. You know you've reached a turning point in your life when you make green tea with rose hips as a way to finish a night. Heh. But that's it, my twelve steps towards feeling my age. For those that kept count, you will notice that I counted the concert twice. That was on purpose. Now get off my lawn...

Si Vales, Valeo

(09:52:20 AM CST)

Some TVA Headlines

I've been meaning to post this for a few days now, but here goes: Something like one month after we got another rate increase, citing fuel costs and drought induced shortages, TVA CEO is awarded a half million per year pay raise.

This gives him a compensation of about 3.2 million (and a salary of about $850,000).

Of course, in this article where TVA justifies cutting costs in weed control along Lake Guntersville (I'm not 100% the specifics of this program) the justification rolls out: "TVA is huge, (and) [al.com used parentheses and not square brackets, making me thing that's a parenthetical remark and not an assumed ellipsis...and yes, that was a joke] Mr. Kilgore is an amazing man. His compensation is based on the market rate." An amazing man? You justify a pay rate increase to people who have no choice but to accept it by citing panic words over coal prices and fuel costs and rampant drought conditions, and then you pay your CEO a massive pay raise, a pay raise that in itself is more than the president of the nation makes, with the justification that he is an amazing man? Dude must give awesome neckrubs at the company party.

I'm one of those that believes that you can't really have price gouging. Kind of. I think that much in the same way that putting a gun to someone's head in order to get money from them is considered mugging, that drastically overcharging for a necessary item is the same basic principle. "Oh, your family needs this gas to flee a life threatening storm, ka-ching!" Life threatening is life threatening. I also have no inherent problems with pay raises for people already making lots of money. I guarantee that a man who gets a half million dollar pay raise is working with an amount of capital that makes that sum seem insignificant. Well, I think I know this. One second.

325 Million in Net Income with something like 9 billion dollars in total Revenue (for a portion of the year in question) in 2006. Beautiful. So yeah, half a million is less than a 600th of profit they make and less than pip of their total revenue (I'm assuming that "net income" would be post-compensation).

And I accept that our rates are lower than most places in the nation, or that's at least what I've been told over and over. I've not actually seen rates in other parts of the nation, at least not enough to form a real opinion. I mean, it's not really lower than the rates in South Alabama, at least not the ones I saw at my parent's house, but I'm sure the TVA will explain to me that I am not accounting for the fact that value of the adjusted thingerding by the rate of shinderling is much conglorious and quite spifferitic in light of something another, and so therefore cheaper is more expensive while more expensive is cheaper and the exact same rates is the most expensive of all. Etc. But still, it sucks when you have a government enforced captive audience and then you increase their rates after a month of justifying it with operating costs and whatnot, and it turns out that the rate increase includes a compensation increase for a man who already makes as much as some town in North Alabama, especially when current profit levels could already have swallowed the costs, the word "shitty" comes to mind.

Anyhow, I don't think there is much we can do but protest, and no one in the South cares about protests, so I guess we get to take and be thankful that are rates are still low enough that we can also afford lube and whatnot and with a bit of spit, and some natural slick, we will see the long night through.

And look, I didn't even use that "I wish I could quit you" line, even though it would have been way appropriate. Dude, my restraint is legendary.

Si Vales, Valeo

(07:52:56 PM CST)

Michael Crichton, RIP

Michael Crichton passed away. That caught me off guard. It's probably been a decade since I have read his work with true delight. For various reasons, as I got older, his style just clashed with what I wanted to read more and more. Still, though, I used to love reading him and the little science and history bits he would throw in. It just made it fun. I wasted a good number of hours reading his stuff, and the only bit I ever regret was that damned Timeline. God.

Around 2000, while suffering from fairly strong depression, I went on a trip with my parents. I took Jurassic Park, which had mesmerized me as a kid. Out near Lake Guntersville, we camped out for the night and a huge storm hit. At that time, my fear of storms was still fairly prevalent (this may have been the night the overflooding stopped the phobia) so I couldn't stand the concept of being out in a flimsy tent or, as it was, in the back of a truck on a sleeping mat. I ended up heading up to the public bathrooms and I took the book with me. I figured I would read for a bit and let my nerves settle. I eventually read the entire book while sitting up on the bank of sinks in the men's room while a terrifying storm hit outside. For hours, at least five or six, I read and hoped the wind would die down. I was essentially separated from my family since the storm had picked up enough that I would have had hell trying to get back. I remember thinking: "This science isn't quite right". I did enjoy it, though.

Around dawn, I wrap it up, and find the storm has slackened. I head back down to the campground. While coming out of the restroom, I watched a slightly overweight woman slip off the top of a fair number of steps and land on her butt about ten feet down. I wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying, and so I assumed laughing.

I was, of course, wrong.

She had apparently hurt herself severely and was screaming like a baby. Good times. Good times. Dinosaurs! All that...

That's probably my weirdest reading story, ever.

Si Vales, Valeo