Friday, April 30, 2004

Band Names from My Name

Yoinked from Juan's blog.

M orrissey
A imee Mann
T hey Might Be Giants
T enacious D
H ank Williams
E lvis Costello & the Attractions
W een

And just to prove that I can out-nerd him,

M adman
A ction Girl
T op 10
H ellboy
E ightball
W atchmen

TV is Your Friend

If you can't tune into Nightline tonight, take a moment to look at their website. On the show tonight they'll be listing the names of the 725 Americans who have died in Iraq since March 19, 2003. The website lists them all by the day they died, their names, their rank, and the circumstances of their death.

When Paul Wolfowitz was asked by the Congressional committee investigating 9/11 how many deaths there had been in Iraq, he responded "It's approximately 500, of which - I can get the exact numbers - approximately 350 are combat deaths." 521 were combat deaths, Paul.

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Not Work Safe, Oh No

Sweet mother of Rasputin's cock.

Found on DPH. How much does 30cm come to in real numbers?


Bush and Cheney with the 9/11 panel, behind closed doors, no transcribers.

Nothing makes me angry these days the way things like this make me angry.

He has the face of an arse.

Go see Arseface.


Updated the sidebar at last, at last, at long last. AnnieD is gone, but she lives on in my comment box. One day soon she'll write her account of her march on the capitol, entitled "AnnieD Gives It To The Man." Also, go visit my friend Eric. He's terribly smart and apparently looking for drinkers in Chicago who can keep up with him.

Eddie and the Turd, p.1

Eddie hadn't seen a turd like this in a long time. He'd been sitting in the recliner, one leg tucked under his lanky body, the other hanging over the leg of the chair. The recliner was reclined, but the only thing on the leg rest was a stack of comics, read and ready to be re-read, when he felt the pressure in his intestines. Eddie got up from the chair, after a quick glance at the bottom of his socks, admiring how dirty they were, and headed down the hall to the bathroom. He liked to let his memory wander back, whenever a bowel movement approached, to what he had eaten earlier in the day that might be making its exit from his body, via his rectum, in mere moments. This time, Eddie had reasoned, it was corndogs.

Eddie was 21 and he lived alone and he was the king of his world.

He didn't take anything in the bathroom to read, because he'd been reading before he got up to go to the bathroom, so what was the point? He would crap fast, and he would be back in the recliner reading, and life would go on, just like the song said. Eddie liked to play music, liked to have it playing all the time, and today it was the Beatles. Eddie liked the Beatles, and he liked the Beatles a lot, even though Paul was a bit of a pretty boy.

So he crapped and he stood up to turn around to take a look before he wiped (and looked at that too) and flushed and walked away. But he had to stop himself, had to stop as he reached for that first handful of paper, had to stop and look at the turd in the toilet. It was long, and it was kind of messy, not entirely solid, and it curved up over and past the hole the water flushed down into, and the tip at the other end, the last end that came out, poked out of the bowl water at Eddie. It was a good seven inches long, no, more like eight, and it was thick, it had left him a little sore. He hadn't thought much of it as it happened, but yeah, thinking back on it now, it had felt like a long turd. And even though it wasn't entirely solid, it had managed to stay in one piece. A turd like this hadn't come out of Eddie in a long time, and he took it as an omen of good fortune to come. It put his mind at ease regarding the events of the recent past.

Monday, April 26, 2004

Q: How do you deal with incredibly annoying people?

A: Sit around the table with six to seven friends who have nothing else to do on a Friday evening. Settle on an annoying situation, in this case, neighbors having loud sex. Commence to filming a couple's reactions to said loud sex; again, in this case, begin with incredulity. Are they really that loud? Snap the newspaper, because it's funny. Move on to anger. Do you want any eggs? Yeah. Whatever. Peel the banana, and lock eyes, and yes, and yes, and run out of the room. No, go back for the butter! No, go back for the nanners! And then, off-screen sex of your own.

Call your friends. Tell them to come over--nono, take your time, they'll be at it all day. It's some sort of Tantric thing. Pop some popcorn, bring in the beer, cheer on that final orgasm. After the friends have left, and before you drift off to sleep, ask your lover if he'll wear the eyepatch tonight. Only if you walk the plank, he'll tell you.

With the video finished, move onto the audio. First just two, normal sex, but a little nasty towards the end. Then some noises--the floor creaking, pounding on the wall. Then more sex, bringing in five people altogether, because there are five people available to fake it. Don't make eye contact while the audio is being recorded, because it's a little uncomfortable.

Then edit. At some point, break for tacos. Then break for a nap, around 7AM, even though you know it's a bad idea. Reconvene by two to finish the editing by three, and even though you're entirely happy with it, the deadline is NOW, and the tape has to be dropped off. Go to the screening, feel glad that yours was cleverer than most even though it had its own issues, and make sure you do a better job next time. Even if you'd won, you should make sure you do a better job next time.

It was a good time. It generally is when you stay up all night and have a finished project the next day.

The Fast Forward Film Festival.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

24 Hour Video

In the midst of a video project. I couldn't tell you the name of the group putting it on, but the way it worked was this: our group (being the Chupacabras, of course) showed up at the fine Chicago coffee shop Atomix at 8pm last night and received a topic. The topic was a question: "How do I deal with incredibly annoying people?" Our project was then to run off, put together a video of three minutes or less that answered the question, and turn the video in at Atomix by 5pm the following day.

Team Chupacabra convened at Jill's apartment to film. We brainstormed for a half an hour or so to come with an idea, and by 9.30 or so we were ready to start filming. Eric directed and Jill and I did most of the on-camera stuff--but Natasia, Shifty, Abbie, and Eric all helped out. We finished filming and laying down the extra audio (full details to come) and went were ready to start the editing by 3AM.

That's Jill and Natasia editing around 4AM. We got the video roughly edited by 6.30 and brains were starting to fizzle (or had long since fizzled) due to lack of sleep and too much wine, so we broke for a nap break. We reconvened around noon to finish the audio and to trim the extra bits from the video to bring it down to three minutes exactly. We had about 25 minutes of footage, so we had plenty to work with.

The video should be in the grubby hands of the Atomix folks by now, and the screening is at 8PM tonight. Full details of the most uncomfortable moments of the shooting will assuredly follow. For now, I need a cheese sandwich.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

You Have Offended My Family, and You Have Offended a Shao-Lin Temple.

Matthew Jent,

from this day forward your
Ninja Burger ninja name will be

Kinjiro Ohashi -san

Use this name in all
future dealings with
Ninja Burger customers.

Brought to my attention by they kindly folks at the Requiem Shark Writing School.

P.S. You will all surely know when there is a comic book of any sort available from, I promise. In the meantime, go to Chicago Comics in Chicago, or Comix Revolution in Evanston, mosey to the mini-comics racks, and pick up a copy of HAIRCUT by Matthew Jent and Juan Navarro for a big fat fifty cents.

Phil, You Sonofabitch.

Your humble host got ZIRKED. Awwww, damn.

No loss of bladder control, but my distrustful nature had me trying to sort out who would play that sort of trick on me. I suspected Meredith, because she is spiteful and because the Zirk is funny, but never would I have figured it was . . . Morehart! I said that in a fake-whisper as I clenched my fist in the air.

Phil--is your number still the same as when you first moved? Because mine sure isn't. Let me know what's shakin, and if you're free Friday night you can get in on this video project I'm working on. It's not glamorous, but it should be fun.

(It was all the exclamation points that sold me.)

Wednesday, April 21, 2004


My couch is apparantly a wireless internet hub.

I've had my new computer for a month or two by now, but I haven't been able to access anything wirelessly from my apartment. But suddenly, sitting at my couch and writing about Mr. Ernest Hemingway and Ms. Gertrude Stein, a little ding tells me that I have mail. I have mail? How can I have mail, the phone cord is dangle-dangling over near my desk, in the other room!

I look--and indeed, I do have mail. Up in the corner of my screen the little symbol that is usually gray has gone black. My soul is a wi-fi hub, or perhaps my cat. Either way, I'm on the couch, I'm on the internet, I'm suddenly not doing my work, and by god, this wireless business is FAST.

Dude, does Donna have bangs? My god, the West Wing, it is fired.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

S h h h . . .

Yanked from Neil Gaiman's journal, this is a bill recently introduced in the House of Representatives:

To amend section 1464 of title 18, United States Code, to provide for the punishment of certain profane broadcasts, and for other purposes.


December 8, 2003

Mr. OSE (for himself and Mr. SMITH of Texas) introduced the following bill; which was referred to the Committee on the Judiciary


To amend section 1464 of title 18, United States Code, to provide for the punishment of certain profane broadcasts, and for other purposes.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That section 1464 of title 18, United States Code, is amended--

(1) by inserting '(a)' before 'Whoever'; and
(2) by adding at the end the following: '(b) As used in this section, the term 'profane', used with respect to language, includes the words 'shit', 'piss', 'fuck', 'cunt', 'asshole', and the phrases 'cock sucker', 'mother fucker', and 'ass hole', compound use (including hyphenated compounds) of such words and phrases with each other or with other words or phrases, and other grammatical forms of such words and phrases (including verb, adjective, gerund, participle, and infinitive forms).'.

Blogging For Two

Annie has seen to fit to discontinue her terribly enjoyable blog, thereby cutting me off from all of the potential run-off from her own blog. She says she's going to continue blogging from my comments section, which will no doubt amuse no one except for the two of us.

Post your pleas for her return here, or start a petition and send it to the WB. If we could only organize people the way the geeks organize for ANGEL, we'd have a movement, people!


A quick word to say that Kill Bill v.2 is badness beyond badness. And who knew Daryll Hannah sporting an eyepatch and a sword while spouting cheesy "I killed your master and now I will kill you," dialogue would be so hot? I sure didn't. I dare you to top the katana duel in a trailer, film kids. I DARE you.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

I like certain things.

I like Red Bull and I like to eat meat every once in awhile.

I like to argue and I like people who have their shit together but think they don't.

I like stories that are good in ways I can't define, the ones who fill a hole I'd been waiting to see filled up.

I like directors who think about music.

I like people who take it easy, while at the same time staying up late to get shit done. And they don't call in sick the next day.

I like people who ask questions as opposed to calling me out.

I like things that are understood, and people who understand them.

I like being in charge of the radio.

I like people who swear too often.

I like people that make other people uncomfortable.

I like my cat, but I feel guilty that she doesn't like anyone else.

I like people who punch others in the arm as a form of greeting.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

purple PAIN, bitches!

Pop singer Prince is being sued by a student who alleges he was attacked by one of the artist's bodyguards after he took a photo of him at an airport.

He says the bodyguard grabbed his digital camera, leaving him "stunned and humiliated".

He alleges "intentional infliction of emotional distress" that left him anxious and unable to sleep.


She was just asked if September 11 could have been prevented had the plans the Bush administration drew up on September 4 been implemented in, say, February. Rice responded by saying September 11 could not have been prevented had the plans been implemented the day after Bush took office.

The crux of their standpoing on this issue seems to be there was absolutely nothing they could have done to prevent the attacks--it was inevitable because not enough had been done about terrorism before Bush came to power. How does that sort of attitude make Americans feel secure and safe? Well kids, it doesn't. And if you vote some anti-war liberal like John Kerry into office, we'll be in the same pre-2001 situation all over again. I bet the message becomes clearer the closer we get to November--a vote for Kerry is a vote for terrorist attacks.

Rice Shrugs Shoulders, Says "WhatEv"

Do they even know *how* to win? Rice says "there was no silver bullet that could have prevented" the attacks on September 11, and of course there wasn't, but the tone of her testimony, and of the administration's entire attitude toward September 11, Iraq, and Everything is that They Are Never Wrong. From Yahoo News:

Rice offered no apology for the failure to prevent the attacks — as Clarke did two weeks ago. Instead, she said, "as an officer of government on duty that day, I will never forget the sorrow and the anger I felt."

And also: 'Bush, she said, "understood the threat, and he understood its importance," she said. "He made clear to me that he did not want to respond to al-Qaida one attack at a time. He told me he was 'tired of swatting flies'," Rice told the commission.'

Then you guys fucked up. She's saying that they understood the situation, they understood what needed to be done, and they were on the lookout for al-Qaida attacks in the United States.

Further: 'Rice read some of the "chatter" that the United States picked up during the spring and summer that raised alarms about a possible attack: "Unbelievable news in coming weeks." "Big event ... there will be a very, very, very, very big uproar." "There will be attacks in the near future."'

Then you guys FUCKED IT UP. If everything was in place and the Bush administration knew of the danger and knew to be on the lookout, and it still happened on their watch, then they screwed the pooch. And to not even apologize for fucking it up, to in fact go out of their way not to apologize following Clarke's apology, is nothing but giving the finger to the entire country, especially the friends and relatives of the people who died. They refuse to admit failure and they refuse to admit fallibility and they fucked it up. It happened on their watch and someday someone is going to have to admit that.



I don't know anything about it except that it looks like the greatest movie ever made. It has robots, swords, masks, and people talking Japanese. Go and watch the trailer. You might not understand what they're saying, but by god, it looks gorgeous. Eric found it.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Or Else I'll Be Cutting and Pasting All Day

I really can't recommend Atrios enough for political news. He's on the left side of things, but I think he's pretty fair-minded and really clever. If you want links on why there's no silverware allowed at Bush fundraisers, what cities are under the control of Al-Sadr's followers in Iraq, or Congressional election updates, Atrios gets them up pretty fast.

Meanwhile, why, exactly, is Alanis Morrissette getting naked?

Zombie Rumsfeld

With more and more soldiers dying daily, and I mean MORE AND MORE SOLDIERS DYING DAILY, even in comparison to the regular rate of soldiers that have been dying in Iraq since the occupation really went into full swing, and with the fact that the Pentagon has announced they are increasing the number of soldiers in Iraq, which is a reversal of their intention to decrease the number of soldiers there, maybe somehow, someday the Bush administration will admit that maybe someone, somewhere screwed the pooch on this one.

But no, BushCo has long made it a point to never admit they were wrong, even as they contradict themselves on newscasts or in print. Electing (or not electing him, as it were) the first time I can write off as blind ignorance, but if the man is actually re-elected in November, in light of the war he's leading us through and in light of the domestic policies that have wrecked the economy and would really like to wreck the environment not only on Earth but in space as well, then I'm going to be even crankier than usual. Their point of view on Iraq seems to be, "Ignore it until after the election and maybe it will go away!"

Meanwhile, soldiers keep dying, Iraqis keep dying, and members of right-wing media are calling for nuclear weapons over the deaths and mutilation of four soldiers. All three of you know that I'm a DEAN man at heart, but if I haven't said it before I'll say it now--Kerry is the way to go in November. He'll be the Democrat on the ticket, and he'll be the only one who can beat Bush, and it's not even a case of voting for the lesser evil. It's a matter of getting the stupid, blind evil far, far away from the White House and not letting the same group walk back into it in four, eight, or twelve years. I'm all for a multi-party system, but I say no more Republican Presidents until Rumsfeld and Cheney are dead of old age and their coffins are chained shut under six feet of concrete. Zombie Rumsfeld could do a lot of damage in the Pentagon, believe me.

P.S. Meredith, this means your lady Rice, too. Even if she was a swell lady in 2000, by playing along with BushCo for this long, she's just as bad as the rest of them.

Monday, April 05, 2004

Close It Down, I'm Repeating Myself

By special request of Jennyzard, who wants everyone to know how goth she is:

band: The KLF, the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu, etc.

Are you female or male: I'm the King of Joy

Describe yourself: Trancentral Lost in My Mind

How do some people feel about you: Ballad for a Sex God (aww, yeah)

How do you feel about yourself: Born Free

Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend: Justified and Ancient Seems a Long Time Ago

Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend: I Want That Girl

Describe where you want to be: Last Train to Trancentral (Live from the Lost Continent)

Describe what you want to be: Doctorin' the Tardis

Describe how you live: Elvis on the Radio, Steel Guitar in My Soul

Describe how you love: Downtown (aww, shit!)

Share a few words of wisdom: Don't Take Five, Take What You Want

In The Year 3000

The thing missing from sci-fi movies, the thing that's been bothering me the most in the back of my brain when I didn't even realize it, the thing I've been craning my neck to see in every episode of Star Trek, in every adaptation of Dune, in every repeated viewing of Starship Troopers, are brand names, everywhere, allwhere, upinya.

If you compare Now to Then, and compare Now to When, think about what there should be. I want to see corporate logo tattoos, babies named Tootsie Roll, and the Pepsi symbol (and yes children, I did say symbol; have enough faith that even my mistakes are choices that I, as The Writer, have made), I want to see the Pepsi symbol emblazoned on the moon. I want to see magnetic strips on the back of everything and I want to know what sweatshop produces the sleek two-color jumpsuits that we'll all be wearing in a few hundred years.

Sunday, April 04, 2004

Hellboy Drinks Red Bull

I was going to write about HELLBOY, but the cats at The Pulse have already summed it up. Great visuals, great ideas, but del Toro should have gotten someone else to write the screenplay. It wound up feeling like someone playing with their toys on the floor of their bedroom. That said, it looked like everyone had the best intentions in mind. If you saw it and liked it, go read Conqueror Worm. It has Lobster Johnson, for god's sake!

Friday, April 02, 2004

I Think I'm Only Posting Because I'm Bored

Finally started working on GhostMom v2.0, and I do believe it's pretty funny. Especially the part about "Morgahue." I'll post some of it over the weekend, so that you can act it out in the privacy of your own homes.

Also, Ryan Adams as a three song EP available for download. I found it on iTunes for a whopping $2.97. You that are net-savvier than I can probably dig it up for free, but then again, you're also going to Hell. Enjoy, jerks!