I'm pretty amazed at the lengths that some people will go to create vibrators for things that really have no good reason to vibrate. Early this year, we posted about people whole sought to take your relationship with your cell phone to a whole new level. Ok, so, that falls in the gag-gift end of the spectrum. It’s worth a few laughs @ a bachelorette party, and I'd be very surprised if it ever even left the package wrapper. Then there’s the completely opposingend of the spectrum, the hard-core-sex market... which, I’m not about to google up at work, but suffice it to say, I’m sure they make everything from blenders to car bumpers that will massage whatever’s you pleasure after that all night run at the Power Exchange.
The really weird place I’ve been noticing these self-vibratory thing-a-ma-jigs "popping up" (*groan*) is in the consumer electronics market. Granted, you won’t see these items popping up next to the batteries at your local Best Buy, but every once in a while something comes along that makes you go hmmmmm (ok…that was bad….) Anyway, this morning I caught a link to this company called Audi-oh.com. They’re attempting to take your relationship with your, yep, you guessed it, iPod or personal CD player to that very special place. It also doesn’t really come in under the gag-gift category, since it’s posting up around $70-90.
All this is well and good I guess, and depending on your inclinations, you *might* be a little shocked at just how far people will go to stir up their daily lives. So, of all the things I've seen so far, nothing I’ve seen has surpassed the level of bizarre established by Rez, the futuristic music shooting game that, in Japan, comes complete with a Trance Vibrator...
If you’re so bold, you can pick up your very own copy of Rez on eBay...I’m not completely sure, but I do think you have to have a Japanese PS2 to play it...
...also...while I've got wierd sex toys on the brain...I actually happened upon a package of pubic stencils (original post here) left over from some bachlorette party while setting for SOMA Sessions this past Friday @ Asia SF....I was going to bring them to Vern, but I got drunk and gave them to someone else....I remember uttering the line "you know I just don't give pubic stencils to just anyone"....I'm just soooo classy like that.
I've often marveled at how absolutely insane NYC bike messengers are....well, this confirms it....Lucas Brunelle mounted a camera on his bike helmet as he darted around the city to produce this video... completely enthralling. (via Josh Rubin)
I dunno what the deal is...the web is so dead today...
sorta funny...got it in an email.
6:00 PM Opening Prayer led by the Reverend Jerry Falwell
6:30 PM Pledge of Allegiance
6:35 PM Ceremonial Burning of Bill of Rights (excluding 2nd Amendment)
6:45 PM Salute to the Coalition of the Willing
6:46 PM Seminar #1: Katherine Harris on “Are Elections Really Necessary?”
7:30 PM Announcement: Lincoln Memorial Renamed for Ronald Reagan
7:35 PM Trent Lott - “Re-segregation in the 21st Century”
7:40 PM EPA Address #1: Mercury: It’s What’s for Dinner
8:00 PM Vote on which country to invade next
8:10 PM Call EMTs to revive Rush Limbaugh
8:15 PM John Ashcroft Lecture: The Homos Are After Your Children
8:30 PM Round table discussion on reproductive rights (men only)
8:50 PM Seminar #2: Corporations: The Government of the Future
9:00 PM Condi Rice sings “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man”
9:05 PM Phyllis Schlafly speaks on “Why Women Shouldn’t Be Leaders
9:10 PM EPA Address #2: Trees: The Real Cause of Forest Fires
9:30 PM break for secret meetings
10:00 PM Second Prayer led by Cal Thomas
10:15 PM Carl Rove Lecture: Doublespeak Made Simple
10:30 PM Rumsfeld Lecture/Demonstration: How to Squint and Talk Macho Even When You Feel Squishy Inside
10:35 PM Bush demonstration of trademark “deer in headlights” stare
10:40 PM John Ashcroft Demonstration: New Mandatory Kevlar Chastity Belt
10:45 PM GOP’s Tribute to Tokenism, featuring Colin Powell & Condi Rice
10:46 PM Ann Coulter’s Tribute to “Joe McCarthy, American Patriot”
10:50 PM Seminar #3: Education: A Drain on Our Nation’s Economy
11:10 PM Hilary Clinton Pinata
11:20 PM John Ashcroft Lecture: Evolutionists: A Dangerous New Cult
11:30 PM Call EMTs to revive Rush Limbaugh again
11:35 PM Blame Clinton
11:40 PM Newt Gingrich speaks on “The Sanctity of Marriage”
11:41 PM Announcement: Ronald Reagan to be added to Mt. Rushmore
11:50 PM Closing Prayer led by Jesus Himself
12:00 PM Nomination of George W. Bush as Holy Supreme Planetary Overlord
So very rad, yet so very, very sad...anything to keep in touch with our childhood (via BoingBoing).
As you may know, Mayor Michael Bloomberg of NYC is attempting to thwart an upcoming protest rally in Central Park because of a purported threat to the grass. Though I believe it's a flimsy argument, I have, in my time, witnessed the accelerated degradation of grass due to human congregations. The first thing that comes to mind are Sunset parties or any outdoor dance parties that occur on healthy patches of grass. One consequence of what might be an otherwise wonderful gathering is the almost unavoidable trampling of grass. Party over? Ok, time to bring in that motherfucker Patch Adams to try to cheer the grass up after it was just gangbanged for fives hours by an assortment of rhythmic stomping mechanisms.
Going barefoot would help. But how are you going to get 300 dancing fools to go barefoot if they aren't Hare Krishnas? If you're going to have shoes on, there are ways to dance that are more friendly to the grass than others. Then there are the one or two dance methods that should be banned. One is anything that involves a lot of sliding. Hey boss, the children's playground is over there by yonder -- go moonwalk your ass over to the slides you no-air-catching wannabe rollerblader. The other dance move is one that involves a lot of hopscotching, crouching, and springing. Though less intense on grass than rollerblade style, this style will still turn the kindest green into harsh brown schwag.
Dancers, while having your life-affirming moment under the sun, realize that the sun will also rise tomorrow to an area of grass that looks like the patchwork fur coat of a 70's east coat street ho.
Rok does not normally refer to people as "boss."
...not wanting to go to Burning Man this year...then I listened to this KQED Michale Krasney program Rok forewarded on about it...now I wish I *was* going...I kind of knew this was going to happen.... (good looking out Rok)
So about 9:40 Tuesday morning, I get an IM from Ms. Right, “Do you like Robin Williams?” “Sure”, I replied…which could have been “sure, I liked him when he was funny and not running around doing weird bits with LL Cool J.” I used to love him, especially back in the days of his rapid-fire stand up comedy....but I preserved my enthusiasm, b/c... well... you never know what Ms. Right is up to...
“You want to see him at Bimbo’s Wed night?”
“Sure”
Again...want to get excited...can’t get excited...tickets could be going for obscene amounts... like $80-$100. I just don’t trust the game anymore...would this be the en fuego Robin Williams stand-up that earned him his name back in the mid 80's, or would this be the equivalent of an 80s hair band reunion...high on hype, low on dellivery. I mean to be completely fair, he's had both brilliant, funny roles and he's had some rill bombs. The last thing in the rapid-fire comedy vein I remember was Good Morning Vietnam, which was brilliant, but, I dunno, just can’t get hyped yet.
“Tickets go on sale in about 20 minutes...I’ll send you the email with the info if you want to go”
“Sure”
So, I get the email and check out the sitch, apparently the R.W. is trying out some new material @ Bimbo’s (which I later found out he’s been doing for the past couple of evenings, but since I live under I rock, I donut know these things…yes I meant to type “donut”…you haters). The tix were $25 bucks…which I think is a great price since most other big name comedians I’ve seen crack into the $50 mark pretty quickly…so, I do what basically I do with any info of value that comes across my path…I carpet-bomb everyone logged onto IM.
Long story short, I scored two tix along with a couple of other folks and then last night, we rolled to the show. After retrieving the tix and entering the venue...and along the way, having to surrender my cell phone at the door...because the phone has a camera...so lame. Anyway, we grabbed seats and the show began.
With no opening act, Robin Williams began his rapid-fire, off-the-cuff barrage of insanity. Rapidly bouncing with the speed of a high-density rubber ball he touched upon everything from the Olympics, animal kingdom, gay marriage, the presidential race, and all non-sequiting (sp?) points in between. He hit non-stop for two hours and any doubt I had that he might have lost his old flare was completely eliminated. For an encore, between jokes, a couple of audience hurled random words like “ecstasy” from the peanut gallery. Williams complied by driving though 5-minute off-the-cuff routines related to the random words, leaving no doubt that he has earned and still remains his king of comedy title.
If given the chance, don’t miss the standup routine....I'd suggest signing up to Tickweb's mailing list on the chance they announce more dates which are billed at the club as "Working on Matierial".
possibly one of the hardcore, geekiest gadgets to appear on the Internet. i'll give credit where credit's due - mr. a. price and engadget (who - rarely - works for a competitor of mine) sent this link over to me.
here's an excerpt of our conversation. read it, then go check out the gadget yourself. buy it and make your friends at Google cry ... oh right, they won't really give a fuck now that they can buy one hundred million of these suckers, if they really wanted. :)
aprice: that pretty much tops out the GEEK-O-METER
aprice: hard core
veronica: more like ... sad
veronica: maybe i'll write about this on comecorrect
aprice: sad?!
aprice: what do you mean
aprice: how cool is that
veronica: that device is sad
aprice: ( totally completely useless... )
aprice: but cool
aprice: what would be really cool would be if it rotated 180 when you tipped it up so you could read it ( while wearing it )
veronica: do you ever work, aram?
...I don't even stumble *this* bad in a 8am meeting after an all-night, multi-barbituate binge => Link (via Balthazar and 1115.org)
BTW, if you don't check 1115.org on a regular basis, you should. These guys are killing it on the daily.
I wouldn't ask you to turn on your TV unless I had a good reason. But I can tell you've been down lately, maybe because your friends are going to Burningman and you're not, or you're just worried that Corey Feldman might be getting too old to star in Goonies 2 . The point is, you need something to rekindle your inner glow, to lessen your unbearable lightness of being. Well friends, it's on ABC every night this week. It is the The Little League World Series .
I swear there is something truly cathartic about watching these 6-8th graders play a healthy game of ball. True, they're a little more focused than most kids (I was the kid in left field sitting cross-legged on the ground, picking blades of grass (and occasionally my nose)), but when they're not in the field or hovering over homeplate with a bat we catch them just being kids -- horsing around in the dugout, or just playing with their socks, and always looking unimpressed by the TV cameras.
The best part is that the kids always leave the arguing and the screaming to the adults.
So be a good american, and check the link above for the game schedule. And as the 1st pitch is thrown, don't forget to grab yerself a tofu dog
and melt some
faux-cheez over it. Cause Corey and I both think you'll be happier when you're vegan.
you scum sucking penis-enlarging debt-reducing online-poker-playing viagra-gobbling spamming bastards....
I just sifted through over 300 comments and installed 2 different plug-ins in hopes of keeping the spam down on this site...not that you guys *really* care, but I had to tell someone....
So I was in need of some mezzican food to fuel my body as I moved residences this weekend.....so I slid on up to this new joint (I think it opened this weekend) on Lower Haight called La Mesa. I’m not a really big SF foodie, but trust me, the kid likes to eat. The kid also likes Mexican food. So my accomplice and I dined at La Mesa for what would be possibly one of the more forgettable meals I’ve had in a while...
The restaurant is a counter service joint, basically meaning that you place your order at the counter and they `bring the food out when it's ready. So, I saddled up to the counter and ordered the steak burrito...fine...sounds good. It was priced a little higher than most burritos in the area (cause I eat a lot of burritos...huney, god doesn't just *give* you a figure like this), but whatever, it wasn’t priced that much more. My accomplice ordered a burrito of the chix persuasion. After placing our order, we grab a seat to wait for our food...and wait we did...I dunno how it took these guys 30 minutes to make a steak and a chicken burrito when there are 6 other people in the restaurant, but they managed to do it. I also dunno how they managed to put only two pieces of steak in the entire burrito, but they did that as well...and at the risk of sounding like a really cheap bastard, I also didn’t appreciate having to pay for a refill on a $1.50 fountain drink after finished my drink waiting 30 minutes for my burrito.…(A little food science for those of you @ home...it usually costs a place about half a cent to serve a fountain drink...which includes the cost of the dishwasher to wash the glass and amortized cost of the glass out over it’s average life span...yes, we bring the geek like that.)
In all fairness, I’ve worked in restaurants most of my college life, and I know it takes time to shake out the kinks when opening up a new place. The place is super clean (which, in Lower Haight, is worth mentioning)...they’ve also apparently spent quite a bit of money getting set up. My suggestion would be that they ditch the counter order and go for more a finer dining experience since the food takes a little longer. Getting in the burrito game in San Francisco is a tough bid, especially since there’s two places on Church St. (across from Safeway) that knock out some great, cheap burritos. In all fairness, they had a lot of interesting marinated veggies with the burrito and the whole menu had quite a gourmet twist to it, which I appreciated. And to be completely forthcoming there seem to be are some people who really liked it (assuming those posts aren't for promotional purposes)...as for me, I’d probably pass next time.
OK...I'm a pretty big dork..so ergo, I'm a pretty big fan when the internet (or any technology for that matter) changes anything or makes our lives a little easier or more interesting. So when this whole MoveOn.org thing hit, I thought it was brilliant. I mean people connecting in hopes of changing the way politics work, circumventing current poluted channels of communication, etc, etc. But, you know, that feeling is so 18 months ago... Since that warm rush of empoweredness (dunno if that’s a word) occurred, I've watch MoveOn.org be paraded around almost every talk show championing "the online movement" and I've received about a kabillion emails from Eli Parser urging me to act out for the most important cause EVAR!!1! (...and yes, I could have just unsubscribed...and yes, I'm that lazy...funny how I'd rather delete 20 emails a day than actually go unsubscribe...I’m just e-passive like that I guess...)
Anyway, barring the fact that these policios with a really good idea seem to have absolutely no inkling of the fact that they can over-expose themselves just like anyone else, and possibly no idea that every one isn't politically charged as they are...(I taste bile everytime I see the name Eli Parser, the guy who coins all the emails)... they have managed to turn out some really impressive ads for the new election. I'm sure you remember the whole Super Bowl ad master piece where NBC wouldn't run their anti-Bush ads, but then they, without spending money with NBC for the actual ad, managed to garner far more press than the ad alone would have actually provided.
MoveOn has churned out a new set of ads that, I think, are nothing short of brilliant. These ads mimic the Apple "switch" campaign and should play quite well to many disenfranchised middle-americans who will support their candidates to great ends, but really get frustrated when they think you don't care about them....I grew up in a small Texas town, these are my people. The ads basically capture the views of people that fit the normal Republican profile who aren't very happy with the current situation and, with great fact and fervor, are calling for change.
I've never been impressed with political ads, the quotes scrolling across the screen with serene music and some deep voiced announcer either damning the opposing side or comforting you that you've making "the right choice"....all that crap is so boring. I need a gimic. I'm from the mtv-always-on-quick-edit-short-attention-span generation...either make it meaningful or make it quick. These new ads they've produced come across in a very candid manner and align perfectly and unapologetically with specific demographics... I actually don't know if when/if they'll air, but no matter what your affiliation or preference is, you should check out the ads, they're very impressive work, IMHO.
Barbara Cali, COME ON DOWN! You're the next contestant on The PRICE IS RIGHT!
You know the show. C'mon, it's been on TV for longer you've been alive. Errr, well most of you. Can you believe legend Bob Barker has been hosting it on CBS since September 4, 1972? I had the honor of attending the taping of the first episode of his 33rd season, just mere steps away from all that glitz, the man himself and his Barker Beauties.
Okay, I'm not a huge fan as of late. Actually until the night before when my friend Cathy was replaying tapes of recent episodes, I couldn't remember the last time I watched the show. For all I knew, Bob Barker wasn't even around anymore (dare I say I thought he "passed on"). Turns out he is 80 and hip as ever. I can estimate that most of my TPIR viewings happened between the ages of 8 and 14. Cathy was coming to visit from New York with a passion to attend a taping and managed to convince me and two other friends here, Julie and Paige, to come along. So, I thought what the hell! It's The Price is Right, the only and longest running game show and as an audience member you actually have a chance to walk outta there with a brand new boat or a trip to Kalamazoo. Or both if you win the showcase! But the fine print... you don't get the prizes until the show airs. And in case it doesn't air? Well you never won of course!
Cathy got us a room at the Farmer's Daughter Hotel, a hip, newly remodeled place to stay centrally in LA, which happens to be right across the street from CBS on Fairfax and Beverly. Turns out that Ted, the night watch guy at the hotel, runs a 40 minute "workshop" of tips and tricks all about TPIR. After a nourishing dinner at Canters, the four of us attended the workshop joined by 20-odd other eager hotel guests.
As I listened intently, I thought Ted must be insane. I thought I must be insane, what am I doing? I quickly realized this was going to be harder than any audition I have ever had. We learned all the ins and outs, what time this and that happens, what to say and not to say at our interview, what games we should know well (as he handed us out a cheat-sheet), not to bring cameras and cell phones, not to bring a list of prices (if found in your possession it could be a criminal offense), even how to apply our name tags, on and on. He advised us to go out and line up at the gate of CBS immediately after the meeting so we could be sure we would make it in the elite group of 325 who attend the show each day. And yes there was already 50 some odd people in front of us. We listened to Ted like good little cult followers, and lined up in the camping cue as if Michael Jackson itickets were going on sale the next day. It was 11:30 pm. The show tapes at 1:15 pm the next day. You do the math.
So you think you have a ticket for the show? No guarantee you'll get a seat. Even you who hitch-hiked all the way from bumble-fuck Maine in hopes of winning a brand new car to go home in, it's first come, first serve baby! People come from all scary parts of the grand old US and Canada for a chance to spin the big wheel. It's like going to an airport and knowing everyone's name. And out of the 325, nine will be asked to "Come on Down" and only six will actually make it on stage with the chance of winning the bigger prizes.
We had the luck of camping next to Velma and Tom, and older, couple from St. Louis, and a group of obnoxious women from Phoenix who immediately started waving at EVERY car that drove past us on Fairfax Ave. I already had a headache. On the St. Louis side, Tom flirted with every young woman he could find, Velma told us her life story (all of it) and complained how she was having a hard time finding anything to eat in LA due to her diabetes. (Hmmm?) And the ONLY reason they came to Los Angeles? To attend a taping of TPIR!! Now that's dedication. Or some might say "lack of culture".
These were the folks we were up against and it was going to be a tough race. People in posses with special T-shirts made just for the show didn't help our chances. The gates opened at 6 am and a sudden burst of energy came over the masses. And as luck had it, after getting a number, then waiting, and getting another number, then waiting, and getting a name tag, and waiting, going in a line to interview in front of the producers, and waiting (all along next to Velma and Tom) at 1:15 we were amongst the elite who entered the theatre.
Okay, at this point, I too was brimming with excitement. The energy of the place, the lights, the cameras, the glittery stage props. I guess the camera makes it look as if the contestants are really comin' on down as if in a football stadium. Actually if we were to 'Come on Down' from the fourth row, it was more like 'Come on UP'. We sat behind a group of geeky guys, who informed us they were part of the "Game Show Congress". (Just when you think you've heard of everything). They had to waive their rights of being a contestant since they had a backstage tour earlier that day and were very secretive of giving away any info to us. Suddenly the show was on! Bob appeared, the announcer called the first four potential winners to contestant's row and the first girl that was picked was right next to us! It was all so surreal and happening so quickly before my sleep-deprived eyes.
People were winning and losing, the audience screamed the prices out while the cameras whipped around to catch all the action. Whew.
In the end none of us "came on down", but every time Bob asked the announcer who was next I had butterflies on my stomach. And as I pictured the scenario of trying to sell my prize boat on craigslist or fitting my new Jacuzzi into my carport, I decided I was happy going home with nothing, even the Dodge Neon. So I never heard those exact words as written at the top of this article. But you know, I felt like a winner anyway! And you can too when tune to CBS Oct 26 at 11 am in to see Cathy and I making asses of ourselves. If you are ever in the Los Angeles area, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity. Cause you won't want to go twice.
And be sure to have your pet spayed or neutered!
Ya know – it’s gonna be a whole lot easier for me to write this once than to repeat the story to each of my crack-monkey friends, so here’s my unofficial review of the last Phish show. It's kinda long, but whatevah.
If you don’t know, this past weekend, Phish performed their (supposedly) last ever show at a two day festival in Vermont’s rural Northeast Kingdom. This is about as East Bumfuck as Vermont can get…about 30 miles South of the Canadian border.
Now my friends and I used to do the Phish thing when we were in high school and early college. This was from about 1989 to about 1993…we used to Phish-out in the smaller venues of the Northeast and come back saying things like “Yo, we went to Phish last night and we all smoked WEED, man! It was sooo cool.” And ya know what? It was pretty damn cool.
But that was then. I actually hadn’t been to a Phish show in ten years when my buddy Dan from Boston called me up and talked me into going. I was kinda skeptical at first…but eventually reckoned that I couldn’t go too wrong with a two day camp-out in one of the most beautiful parts of the country and 70,000 other funked-out fooligans.
I think the best way to break it down would be with one of those “timelines” of the variety that you used to make in junior high school when you needed to present the history of the French Revolution. I think it’ll work better here than a diorama or a mobile, so here goes:
Saturday, 1 AM: A car loaded full of Dan, Dan’s Girlfriend, me, and 5 cases of Budweiser leaves Boston.
Saturday, 4:30 AM: After 3.5 hours of smooth sailing, we hit a line of traffic on the interstate that is at a complete standstill. We are now 30 miles from the concert venue, and there are people at the side of the highway drinking beer, playing hackeysack, and selling everything from glass pipes to jello shots.
Saturday, 5:30 AM: We have surmised that the concert venue gate has been closed all night due to torrential rain, insane mudpits, and the stage falling into the mud. Budweisers are tasting mighty good.
Saturday, 8 AM: We get a message over the radio to turn around and go home since there is nowhere to put cars inside the venue! Somewhere between dumbfounded and heartbroken, we decide that the best thing to do is to cook up some eggs and sausages at the side of the highway.
Saturday, 8:45 AM: I’m standing at the side of the interstate chowing a mouth full of scrambled eggs. A seventeen year old chick from New Jersey walks up, puts her arm around me and says “I’ll do ANYTHING for your ticket, hottie!” I stare back at her, and a piece of egg falls out of my mouth.
Saturday, 11:00 AM: We’ve driven a bit South now, and there are still thousands of eager Phish fans running around town trying to figure out what the hell to do. Over 4,000 kids have already abandoned their cars at the side of the interstate and are hiking in the 15 miles to the show. I’m feeling pretty fucking inspired by people’s determination, but my friends are getting a little antsy about the idea of getting to work on Monday. A guy with one arm walks up and introduces himself: “Hey guys, my name’s Gator. I know the back way to the show and I can take you there for $20. You in?” Gator’s got a truck full of dreadheads and tie-dye shirts and he’s ready to pop. I grab my backpack and a 12 pack, say goodbye to my friends, and jump in the truck.
Saturday, 3:30 PM: After hitching 4 rides, hiking 5 miles, drinking 8 beers, and making a whole shitload of crazy new friends, I’m inside the venue setting up my tent on my very own patch of mud.
Saturday, 7 PM – Monday Noon: The show is mayhem. Phish RIPS three sets each night…people party their faces off…it takes 45 minutes to cross the mud when you need to take a leak…people try to sell me things I understand like “doses” and “ecstasy”….people also try to sell me things I can only wonder about like “hubbahs,” “spinners,” and “fruity pebbles.” All I know is what I heard: “Hubbahs are the perfect thing right after you peak from a fruity pebble, but yo mang I never get high on my own supply…”
And the music? Phish is a very context-specific experience. If you’ve heard their studio recordings, you rightly won’t be impressed. But if you see them live, and you appreciate jamming, precise musicianship, nerdy white-boy humor, and a manic carnival atmosphere, then you just might be in heaven. 70,000 people don’t jump into a mudpit in rural Vermont for nuthin. There was a bit of emotion going on at the show…but the band did a good job of not getting too cheesy about it. They allowed themselves some butt-bumping with their parents on stage, and the ritualized passing of a trampoline into the audience. Most cool was to hear their music belted out in this great green countryside, since a lot of it was originally written by the lead guitarist in his unheated cabin just a few miles away. I gotta say, there were some sublime musical moments. =)
Monday Noon: I begin the attempt to get my ass back to Boston. After wrapping myself in black plastic and hiking about 4 miles in the pouring rain, I decided to make a cardboard sign that reads “BOSTON. Will share gas $$.” I front the sign for about 10 minutes, and quickly realize that I don’t want to be that jackass with a fucking “BOSTON” sign. I hook up with some locals, hitch a ride to the bus station, and take the three buses I need to get back to beantown.
Monday, 8:30 PM: I’m sitting at the kitchen table with my mom, telling her that I had a very nice time at the Phish concert, and that it was just like that time we went to Tanglewood as a family to see the symphony…
So that’s it kids, Phish is done! Their music aint for everyone, but they’re insanely tight and insanely creative. They’ve also created a cultural phenomenon that has touched a lot of people and won’t soon be forgotten. You should go out to ye olde internet and give their music a listen….it won’t sound quite as good as it does when you're in rural vermont with a butt-crack full of mud, but it’s still worth a peep.
That’s all from me for now! G’night, -DK.
..aww meyan...i was just like, you know, like we went to Coventry for the final show.....and I was like, super stoked because like during this one solo Trey was playing you know, like, I just thought, I'd take those caps I'd been saving since Bonnaroo and just, you know, like freak out.....and then become, like totally at one...like with the earth, meyan...and then just like, you know, like hang out and just drop out for a few.....
(...whatever you do...don't miss this link.)
Yes, yes, it's that time of year in the Bay Area. That very special time when people of the Bay spend long hours making costumes, sorting through piles of junk attempting to find an old pair of ski goggles, rummaging around to locate that rechargeable air pump for that mattress that badly needs patching, and calling their dealer to put in that special order for heroic amounts of every substance imaginable...for themselves and their closest twenty friends. Ah yes, it’s time for Burning Man once again. For those unfamiliar with this regional phenomenon, it’s a time in Nevada’s Black Rock desert (located about 40 miles from Reno) where they take a break from witnessing next years Acura flying across the uncharacteristically flat lake bed to host an intimate gathering for around 25-30,000 freaks hailing from all parts of the world to live as if money didn’t matter.....even though tickets can run $250 for those late to the game.
The only thing that’s almost as much fun as Burning Man are the weeks leading up to the event in and around San Francisco. It's a time around town where disheveled hipsters carry the same excitement on their faces found on 5 years olds at Christmas time. In fact, this excitement is one of the main reasons I fell in love with Burning Man some 5 years ago. It replaced that sense of wonder and excitement I was missing since S. Clause went the way of the Easter Bunny.
I remember the very first year I went to Burning Man. Some close friends of mine, who I worked with, demanded 5 months in advance that I buy a tcket to this event in order to prohibit something coming up to prevent my attendance. This happed, I might add, on the very first day I moved to San Francisco to start my new job. It was 2000, the height of the dot-com boom and easy money coursed through the city like the fine alkali dust from the Black Rock Desert, and everyone and I mean EVERYONE was going. It was something that was not to be missed. Most of the people I had met had been just the year before and seemed still high from the experience. They had pics and maps from the event as their desktops at work. They spoke in great detail of the areas they had camped before what they had seen, and what they were doing when they had the most fun EVAR!!1!!1
At the time, my friend Matt and I were Burning Man “virgins”. All our friends regaled us ad-nausea about all the fun we would have, all the things we would see, blah, blah. I remember looking at Matt at one point and saying, ”well, I’m sure we’ll have fun, but could everyone just stop talking about it ALL THE EFFIN TIME. Now, after taking part in the event four times in many different ways, I can say with complete certainty that Burning Man changed my life, and I think everyone should go at least once. I can also say that the time spent preparing for the event is, in ways, as strange and bizarre as the event itself. As I returned last night from a trip across the pond, I started to see familiar signs that BM was close at hand...
Top 10 things you’ll notice around San Francisco in the weeks leading up to Burning Man
10. Squares of white dust dot the streets where people attempt to beat the dust from the gear they haven’t seen since last year.
9. Every bike shop in town now carries a sign that proclaims to all potential entrants, “We have no more Burning Man bikes”.
8. The seasonal section of the Safeway on Church and Market now looks like ground zero at a Red Cross shelter, the summer barbeques and soft sided coolers having been replaced with huge palates of water bottles, granola, and, of course, beef jerky.
7. Bolts of blue and brown fur are bare at all the local fabric stores, hardware stores are completely sold out of glow sticks, and the guys at the paint store immediately point you to “the best dust mask for Burning Man” as you walk through the door.
6. The Army Surplus store is selling orange jump suits and old WW2 rubber eye-goggles like mad.
5. Tickets requests for BM on Craigstlist reach new levels of insanity.
4. You had no idea what “re-bar” was 2 days ago.
3. The drum circle on Hippie Hill severely suffers as everyone forgoes their tabla in order to test out that new and improved shade structure.
2. Hippies who haven’t driven a car since, well this time last year, are careening up and down the Height in a 30 foot RVs while yuppies strap old, rusted beater bikes to their SUV’s.
1. The average life span of a couch/futon discarded onto the street dips to a record 15 minutes as passers-by stop to lash it to their Mini Cooper in hopes of somhow dragging it to the desert.
The Man burns in 17 days….for those about to Black Rock, we salute you.
Costco to test market the sale of funeral caskets in Chicago stores.
If you’ve seen the phrase “Neck Face” appearing around town, you’d be in the company of people from New York to Japan to the Philippines who’s fair cities have received the similar treatment from this anonymous psudo-celebrity over the past couple of years. Unlike many other renegade renaissants/artists/taggers/miscreants before him, Master Neck Face has been fodder for many, many, blogs before this one and he is one of the few artists in his line of work to become more or less an internet-fueled phenom. His work is catalogued on the web, and he’s even been featured in the New Yorker. Art or nuisance...enlightened or illiterate; it's your tax dollars @ work...
(This entry made whilst waitin fer a rantle core to come available in Dublin to droive ta Ennis fer a weddin....sufferin from a brootal hangaver aftar getting pisssed sideways jest the noight befar....fer fak’s sake)
...I'm in 'Oreland and it's pissing rain everywhar'...so I ducked into an internet cafe and discovered that The Peebs is back in the game!!!
I laughed out loud in the cafe and almost shot coffee out my nose...yup, I'm *that* sexy...this just single handedly made my day...yup, I'm *that* pathetic...
Pimp Name Generator.... yes it's a little on the 4-years-ago-internet-meme-tip, but I'm easily amused....
....but I wouldn't argue with Trick Magnet C. Large, beyatch!
....now go fetch my pimp cup.
I've been a little MIA as of late because I've been doing some stuff down in LA (ie, SF's alter ego). Next to bitching about MUNI, San Franciscans' favorite past time is dissing LA. I should know, I've done my fair share. But in recent years, I've come around to a more balanced, less emotional take on this complex beast that dwells six Interstate-5 hours south of us (five hours when hauling serious ass in the Hyundai Accent rental and skipping IN-N-OUT).
First of all, comparing SF to LA is like comparing your favorite Ghiradelli chocolate with a box of See's assorted. SF is a bite-sized city; LA is a large variety pack, with good pieces and some fucking crapola ones with pink filling. To be fair, a more appropriate comparison would be to compare LA with the SF Bay Area, which includes such stinkers as San Jose and all those BART stops you've never gone to such as Walnut Creek and Pleasanton. I don't know if SF heads are ready to stand up for Concord and Fremont. But since each city has it's own baseball team, let's just continue to compare the cities as we've been doing since time immemorial.
-LA has hotter girls, but their hotness comes with a price: more fakeness. From boobs to style, LA women are unhealthily superficial. Because the weather is much warmer, there's more skin. Summer in LA is sexier than summer in SF.
-LA has real beaches. SF beaches are air-conditioned museums.
-LA has more tough guys who are too concerned with being hard. This is especially noticeable when driving. LA will stab you sooner than SF.
-SF has a funkier and more eclectic culture, but LA produces 100,000 times more exportable culture. LA and New York are in their own league in terms of culture production. It's where the money is; it's where the talent is; it's where the action is. That said, SF's lower profile makes it a better breeding ground for certain underground and indie cultural manifestations.
-In a certain way, LA has more diversity. Both cities can lay claim to having representatives of every conceivable ethnicity, but in LA you are more likely to see that diversity at a bar or club and not just in statistics. You are also likely to see more style diversity in LA. SF suffers from torturously defined scenes and neighborhood identifications.
Ok, enough generalizations for today. This is the first installment in an ongoing superficial comparative anthropology of SF vs. LA and SF vs. other cities.
Help make Asian Americans less invisible in film by gettting stoned this week and watching "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle." It's mindless entertainment, but it's funny. Rating: 7.
Yo, when I'm not masquerading as a bumbling blogger, I play an incompetent drum and bass dj....and every once in a while I make a mix, and try and give it out to people. I know the music's not for everyone, but I really love it....and if you haven't heard drum and bass in a while, you should take a listen. The genre has many different faces...you might be surprised...The mix is heavy on the dub tip and carries alot of summer vibes. I hope you like it.
Alright, if you're interested, the link and track listing are below. If you want a CD, I can prolly hook that up just email me...and if it sucks...we'll it's free...so...I dunno what you want from me...
Sound:boy - Bits & Pieces
Length - 1:10:15
Download Mix
1. Basic Unit - Dub Principles - Deepest Cut
2. Commix - Don't Let Me Know - Advanced
3. St:Cal - Red Light - soul:r
4. Breakage - Strongheart - Bassbin
5. Zero Tolerance - Natural Selection - Subtitles
6. ??? - ??? - ???
7. St:Cal - Little Man - soul:r
8. Alias - Van Cleef - unsigned
9. Calibre & Fats - Drop it Down - Signature
10. Commix - Roots Train - Hospital
11. Zinc - Film (Calibre rmx) - Bingo
12. Die - Drop Bear - Full Cycle
13. Shy FX - Bambaata - Ebony
14. Alias - Admit to Love - Critical
15. SKC & Bratwa - Prophecy - soul:r
16. Alias - Can I - unsigned
17. Cyantific - Quiet Star - Hospital
18. Seba w/Aaron Phiri - Neophunk - Idioma
Found @ a residence in LA, died from natural causes...
scoop from DSP...
Weekend pressure followed by some global vacation antics...prolly won't be much happening with the site in the next week or so....and congrats to Kim & DSP on their big day...
This link was sent to me by my good friend Seth Bro with the subject line "Simply something I'd like to see more of".
Me too.
Site of the week...
YouHaveBadTasteInMusic (via CatchDubs)...yah yah, tastes in music are subjective, whatever, blow me...So, take a fair dose of informational entrapment (al la Michael Moore), toss in some Tom Green antics, and show up @ a Linkn Park show to tell everyone just how bad their music sucks.....hi-jinks ensue.
Star Wars + a Mariachi band + childrens play castle + a robot spider + flaming trellis + sword gauntlet = you Gotta Be Shitting Me
Shoosh....I *need* to get to work, but Monday's rolling in with a raft'o links to keep you happy ....big, big weekend @ the Friends and Family vs. BTx campout this weekend...i don't remember a damn thing it was good times....aight, enough, here come the links:
