Love and Rockets

Don't worry - we'll have a final edition of our music list at the end of the month. For now, I'm enjoying the process.

It has been a somewhat challenging time for me personally. Massive upheaval at work. Stupid apartment related crap that won't go away (Hello, $200 gas bills). Watching my friends wither and crumble under failed relationship stress. The sad part, in all of this, is that I'm letting it affect my relationship with Lil, which is, ostensibly, the one thing that has been working for me. So I'm taking stock here. By putting this out there, I'm attempting a reconciliation with the real issues, so that I don't create more problems for myself. And I'm going to look for a counsellor, so that I can actually have a trained professional help me cope with my stress.

I've also been reading a couple of somewhat depressing books, which I would give up, were it not for the fact that one of them is genius and the other one is crack in paper form.

Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth is an absolutely stunning graphic novel, chronicling a dysfunctional middle aged man, finding his place in the world. It will someday be recognized as a literary masterpiece for the ages. The illustrations are both simultaneously dense and minimal. One gets the sense that each panel comes with layers and layers of metaphor and meaning. I've honestly been content to stare at a single frame for close to an hour. Not to mention, the truly excellent writing. Like the illustrations, sentences are crafted carefully and meticulously. This is a labor of love, imagination and detail. Full of pain and pathos, it shines through as the "the first formal masterpiece of the medium" (New Yorker - 10.17.2005).

And then there is Platform by Michel Houellebecq. Dirty, sexy, vulgar ... pornographic even, while flirting with moments of wit and depth. And thoroughly dark and chilling at the same time. I want to hate it and yet I cannot stop reading it. The protagonist is almost completely nihilistic, and could be vaguely interesting, but isn't, mostly because his main interests seem to revolve around Thai prostitutes. The first half of novel plays out like a creepy forty year male's sex fantasy. And yet, I am compelled to read on, because there is an intelligence behind the writing that I cannot ignore. And I've been promised that it takes a really crazy and dramatic turn towards the end, that has the potential of addressing meaning of life (or lack thereof) level questions. Kinda like Ghost Dog, and how he turned out to be gay in the end. Ghost Dog? Gay? WTF????!!! Poor Veej.

Hey, this was fun. Maybe I'll continue a doing a book review column, a la Nick Hornby's Polyphonic Spree. Except it will be about books that I haven't finished reading yet, so that you don't have to worry about spoilers. And I don't have to worry about actually finishing the book.

brand new heavies

light green

backup blogging

so i guess this is now my backup blog. i can't post to the regular coredumpin' site so i'm going to have to scratch my blogging itch here.

listening to the new pornographers - "the end of medicine" sounds dangerously like the shins.

ok, so, more importantly, for the first time in a while, i feel a sense of hope, for the political future of this country. there seems to be enough simmering discontentment among the general populace, and even a lot of republican types seem to be getting increasingly irritated with dubya's brainfucked economic policies. not to mention the iraq fiasco, and the barrage of doublespeak being spewed by the administration. i think the dems actually have a shot, despite the lack of a truly compelling candidate. for a while, i was convinced that we were under the connivances of a vast right wing conspiracy. now i'm back to thinking that the bush administration simply consists of a bunch of smarmy morons, who really don't have a clue as to what they are doing, while masking it under a veneer of bravado. i still think bush has the upper hand in the next general election, but the democratic contender (prolly john kerry) has a very legitimate shot if he actually decides to harp on some of the real "issues". seriously, if nothing much changes in the next few months, bush could get hammered pretty hard. well, at least i can hope.

and, i think, howard dean, despite his rather ignominious fall from grace, was the best thing that could have happened to the democratic party. he was the only candidate with the balls to criticize iraq, and he has effectively shifted the national debate to the point where the president is finally being held accountable for his actions. so even if (or rather when) dean withdraws from the race, he has done his part to keep the other dems honest, and has single-handedly revitalized the "democratic" wing of the democratic party. word!

power lunch

lunch today: honey roasted peanuts, nacho cheesier doritos and famous amos chocolate chip cookies

like i said ... there is nothing else interesting. really!

"+"
- kissing the lipless
- the postal service
- scarves
- knee jerk irony/post irony
- hands ... no hands

"-"
- "un"ironic trucker hats
- blowing sunshine up your own ass
- the odeon
- knee jerk irony
- blogging

until next week

it's official - there is nothing interesting on the internet anymore. the world wide web is dead dead dead.

the curse lives on

i don't live in chicago. i don't live in boston. i occasionally follow baseball, but i'm only a casual fan really. and yet, i find myself inexplicably heartbroken after both the cubbies and the bo-sox lost in such dramatic fashion. i can only imagine the sense of despondence and collective depression that people in chi/bean- town must feel right now. and yet, as i watched both teams fall prey to their respective curses, i felt a part of that helplessness. i understood what true frustration felt like. arrrrrgggggh!

input

i've started reading again which means i'm performing my usual juggling act; vaccilating from one book to another to another. so, in keeping with the fine traditions of blogging, i will now put out my current booklist.

. cryptonomicon - neal stephenson
. the life of pi - yann martel
. generation x - douglas coupland
. believer magazine - various

at first glance, this might appear to be a trying-too-hard attempt to acquire sort of geek chic cred. but i'm genuinely enjoying my reading, so ... umm ... yeah. [unable to come up with witty conclusion, that serves to both underscore my point, and simultaneously act as a clever insight into modern life]

stop making sense

and you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack / and you may find yourself in another part of the world / and you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile / and you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife / and you may ask yourself - well ... how did I get here?

burnin' down the house

we're having a housewarming party and as a faithful blog reader, you've earned yourself an invite. read the evite or email me for details.

gurgle and coo

"where da shrey doggie been?", you may ask ...

i've been busy falling in love. i'm never sure of the right time to bust out the l-word, but it feels like something that will eventually lead to it's usage. so here's to pre-love. e ... i think i pre-love you.

the new florida

i'd be remiss in my civic duties if i didn't pass this brilliant little cartoon along. it's funny cos' it's true.

celebrity deathmatch

homer simpson vs. peter griffin.

the family guy is easily the best show on network television today. all the things you can't do on the simpsons - they're on the family guy. psychopathic megalomaniacal babies. alcoholic dogs. gratuitous pop culture references. abundant swear words. feminism disguied as misogyny. blasphemy. cartoon sex.

peter griffin wins by a belch.

take two

i just added titles. this is exciting. i'm a titular kinda guy.

version three point oh

well ... i'm giving in. i'm going from the old school diy-handcode your own html-host on your own server type journal to this mass produced blogging factory. maybe I'm becoming soft in my age (a wizened 26) or maybe I'm just plain lazy. but it is a conscious choice nonetheless, and i am a firm believer that it is more important to choose consciously, if perhaps imperfectly, than to blindly have your choices made for you. so here's to choice (imperfect yet conscious), waxing pseudo-intellectual (because what else is there really?), independent music (esoteric yet proletarian), eating tofu for the sake of tofu (fake meat is for poseurs) and california lovin' (will somebody please stop the recall madness?). oh ... and parentheses (including, but not limited to parenthetical statements such as these). i really like parentheses. ok - it's time to go live - 4 ... 3 ... 2 ...