It's still a tough market out there.
Activists Enrage WTO with Phony Web Site a long time ago, to much success, so why are we talking about it now? This is the very worst reporting, on the most precious bit of political pranking, I've ever seen.
First: It's not news - the sites have existed for like a year now. One of the guys was invited to speak at a textiles industry conference a while back, by mistake. The transcript of the presentation he gave is in this month's Harpers, and is a riot. (bad pun.)
Second:
"Google, an Internet search engine, lists the gatt.org site as belonging to RTMark,"Is it newsworthy that Google reports information registered with Internic and Network Solutions? Am I missing something?
Third: Nothing, just whoever wrote that sucks, and their editor sucks even more. There is little I loathe more than bad journalism.
There's a news team across the street from my house, interviewing my neighbor Jeremy as he juggles on his unicycle. Last summer, he practiced flaming tightrope walking on a rope tied between some trees, and melted his shoes. I would walk home, when I worked at Berkeley Systems/Flipside, and as I turned down our street I'd see a dancing line of balls flying up in front of the sunset and would slow my pace to a stroll, or perhaps a mosey, depending on the weather. I love my neighborhood.
Hooray for the rare Halloween full moon. It gives the kiddies nice silvery light under which to frolic. And it explains my menstrual shift. I know - too much information - but it gets even spookier:
According to myth, the Seven Sisters constellation is at its highest point in the sky during a great calamity, possibly the biblical flood or the sinking of Atlantis. The Aztecs and Mayans believed it would be overhead at midnight on the night the world comes to an end, Horkheimer said.Everyone play nice! And come trick-or-treating at my house, I bought way too much candy.The Seven Sisters and the full moon will both be directly overhead at midnight, he said.
It rained all night, into this morning. It's a warm rain, but, still, I worried.
As of 7:00 o'clock this morning, my spider friend was MIA. But now, voila, he is rebuilding! I swear he grew overnight. He is the Alpha Spider.
Such economy of words, and such a vivid picture they paint:
"The bullet pierced the woman's head before sticking in the man's thigh..."
Which of my sometime coworkers uses a machine called Spaceman? Hm?
Nice to see you, how are things? Can you help me get tickets to a Monsters screening?
Every year Indian Summer turns to brisk autumn right around Halloween, so that costume you planned when it was 78F outside is just a wee skimpy for the 48F of the holiday itself. Plus it usually rains. I hate that. Happily, the spider seems ok with rainy days, even if they come early.
This year I'm particularly peeved by the rainy day flight patterns into OAK. Said pattern goes right over my house.
Went to a really astonishingly good party last night, from which I am only just recovered, and was reminded of a few key bits of wisdom:
a) beware the wily Sensation.
b) Dave Gross just does not stop.
c) I've got some pretty good friends. Some of whom recall details of our last escapades, circa 1988.
d) it's a teeny tiny little world.
Spider update: The jasmine dwelling spider has caught three bugs (that I've seen) in the last two days. Yesterday was spent sleeping it off, nestled in a jasmine blossom barely big enough for the job. S/he slept all day; I was getting worried and went to check on it late last night and found a beautifully repaired web and alert sentry spider.
Today it's back in the flower, which I guess is more comfortable than what, in this breeze, would amount to web surfing. Oh.
It may be time to pick a gender and name the spider.
It really is a big spider. It looks tiny, but those flowers are 1 1/4" in diameter.
No, I'm not going to hold up my finger up for scale.
He's 65. She's 22. Think she speaks German? Zambia doesn't want tourist dollars that badly. It's almost as interesting as Wednesday's big Zambian judgement.
"'One time I found a frog in a cup of tea she had served me. That is the reason I went for another woman.' Judges Chidongo Shawa and Wilson Makuwerere granted him a divorce, saying it was clear the couple's marriage could not be saved."
John the Headbalancer: not as cute as Oolong.
Squashed snake costs BART project $1.4 million.
The snake relocation program has been going on for quite a while. I remember when this started, someone was accused of backing a truck over it; there was a fistfight and everything.
Construction was halted for more than two weeks. The investigation did not find anyone at fault in snake's death.What that article doesn't say is that the investigation has been going on for over a year.
The Solutions Catalog is a big fat lie. This solves nothing.
Oh no: is there a correlation between corseting and Alzheimer's?
So what is the proper solution, if not spanking? Hog-tying? Pepper spraying?
The boy allegedly attacked his mother outside the principal's office... Lee said when the boy tried to kick him in the groin, he responded by spanking him and calling him a "little son of a bitch.'' The boy, whose behavior was so bad that he was allowed to attend school only 2 1/2 hours a day, is now in a special-education class. "We finally got him where he is supposed to be, but it cost me my job,'' he said.
This new enterprise, coupled with the planned wiring of Bay Area tunnels, could make for a very different sort of commute. I've certainly encountered my share of, um, impolite, messy behavior on BART; this would almost sanction it.
Last night an enormous spider set up this amazing web over our back porch. He's using a satellite dish, a chimney, and some jasmine as anchors. I dunno how long it'll last, but it's pretty amazing. So is he (how do you sex spiders?), in all his humongous stripey glory. Neither photographs all that well without risking getting bitten, but I gave it a shot.
I AM 44% PUNK.
The intelligent punk. Tuff and Smart. I
may be able to maintain a train of thought
long enough... What the fuck was I talking
about?
Hahahahahahahahahaha... ha... ha.
Hooboy, thanks, Michelle who is 3% more punk than me.
Aha! Further proof that 2001 is 1985 revisited: Zodiac Mindwarp is playing tonight. Note that this is minus the Love Reaction. Is this a cry for help? An aging rock star plea, "will someone please fuck me?"
Stop me if you've heard this one before. Oh. OK, nevermind.
Robert W. Koontz, Phd, Experimental Nuclear Physicist and Former National Security Agency Instructor, says that Evil Bert is more than a fluke: he's part of a series of coded directives. His yellow skin is code for "biological weapon," and his masklike face is code for "on Halloween." Dr. Koontz should take his meds, and to learn to process images for faster loading.
I like Muzaffar Wandawi's gallery of would-be conspiratorial paintings.
Sure Sign #564: ''no person shall display, transport... or otherwise handle a snake'' in Portland, ME. OK, that's really not the sort of civil liberty I was expecting to see sacrificed. But then:
''These things scare the bejezus out of people,'' said Councilor Philip J. Dawson, chairman of the city's Public Safety Committee. ''Someone asked me if I'm afraid of them. Yes, I am.''What next, no black cats?
Can someone help me figure out why I'm getting referrals from Martinair? I've certainly flown with them a bunch of times, and even taken some really pretty awesome photos of glaciers from their windows, some that feature prominently the Martinair logo on a wing or tail flap, but... the hits are coming to a directory of thumbnails of beach photos. WTF? That is troubling.
Leisure Town is back!
If that doesn't mean anything to you, peruse the library first. Unless you're easily offended, or have no appreciation for genius bendy art, or are an impressionable youth. There really ought to be an obscenity, or at least extreme cynicism, warning.
Yingying is said to be the only member of the endangered species in the world able to dunk a basketball, go down a slide and lift weights.
Thanks be to Cardhouse.
Sure Sign of the Apocalypse #563:
Someone is auctioning off AOL cds on eBay. And other people are bidding on them.
remember I was vapor - gary numan
you the night and the music - tones on tail
boilermaker - jesus lizard
release the bats - birthday party
straight to heaven - mc 900 ft jesus
Five is not nearly enough.
Ethel the Blog weeds through the news on the Supreme National Security Council, an echelon above the Homeland Security Directorate, "which will be chaired by George Bush, various cabinet members and 'certain others who have had long-term political allegiances to my father.'" This is the committee that would determine which civil rights are retained and which are sacrificed as our nifty new chapter of history unfolds. At least there's a solid foundation in capitalist ideals to keep guidelines from being too stringent. I mean, you should still be able to choose your own reading material to while away, say, a flight home to see your parents. Just not if you're a 22-yr old sponger, and not books about tree-huggers or muggles.
Feral cat, kittens survive WTC blast. Of course they did! She was smart enough to find a restaurant to nest in... yay feral kitties.
A couple days ago I pointed to something I thought was pretty funny, only I wasn't looking closely enough and I think I offended (who me?) with my one-line post. That's efficiency in action.
I thought it was hysterical in a very postmodern sort of way that Allen of Unapologetic "writes occasionally, in hopes of one day using it as found art." We should all do that, right now: write something, a big long heartfelt something, stick it in a piece of luggage you only use when you go overseas, 'cause you know you're not doing that for like a year, right? When you get ready to take that bag to Goodwill ages from now, you'll find your tome. Found art, courtesy of yourself.
Turns out I was reading too fast. K's actual habit is "writes occasionally; collects random junk in hopes of one day using it as found art." Still: Derrida would love that!
Allen: I'm laughing with you. I do hate postmodernism, with a passion - I think it ruined modern anthropology - but on you it's cute. Btw, my MA is in Anthropology and International Agricultural Development (more racy than it sounds), not liberal arts, but can I pass?
Living here, and not being a student, is almost hedonistic. If you're panicking about impending armageddon, I recommend you come visit. I went for a walk this morning, with an errand at the main post office as my excuse. Meandering through the streets of Berkeley, particularly on perfect sunny days like today, is a newfound pleasure. Sure, I walked inumerable miles up and down the gorgeous hills of Northside and the curious putrefaction of Telegraph in earlier years, but the weight of books or the focus on changing the world detracted from my appreciation of the backdrop.
There's this man who walks the streets of North Berkeley - just walks, right in the middle of the street if it's not a busy one - all the time, just because. He's about 70, always has a couple days' white stubble, wears these cute little glasses and a hat that says he may have done this in the outback 50 years ago. Whenever I see him, he smiles and gives me a big thumbs-up with his arm extended in my direction. He wished me "good day" this morning, and I heard a skateboard rushing down the street behind us and another neighbor came up to say hi. We were all just out for a morning stroll: me, this old Berkeley guy, and this 24yr old skater boy. Now that I'm home, I feel like I'm missing something, and should go back out.
Sometimes I feel about Berkeley the way a teenager feels about her parents:
Oh my GAWD I can't believe you just said that, in public! You. Are. So. Naive! I hope no one sees us together.
Berkeley is a great place to live, so much so that you just wince a little and chuckle at the occaisional fulfillment of the extreme leftist myth. If the city council would stop trying to achieve actual Utopia, the town would be that much closer to it.
Ooooh, check out the nifty flash site for anthrax vaccination in the military.
Via unapologetic, who is generating his own found art. That is so postmodern.
www.oralse.cx. woot!
Oh yah, Stephen, that helps a lot.
LONDON (Reuters) - The human race is likely to be wiped out by a doomsday virus before this millennium is out unless it starts to colonize space, top British scientist Stephen Hawking warned on Tuesday.
Adequacy.org is supposed to be "news for grown ups," but this essay is ridiculously juvenile.
The comments that follow are interesting, but miss what I think is a core issue. Anthrax, the band, has been around for 20 years. Anthrax, the disease, has been studied since 1885. Neither the band nor the fungus appeared on today's scene sui generis. Attack or defend the band's right to have the name, but put some thought into it: No one's talking about why the name was chosen in the first place, merely that today it seems in bad taste. Anthrax was the same thing, the same idea, twenty years ago as today. Nothing has changed but that the threat that was feared is finally manifested on a broader scale than in the recent past. The name has no greater or lesser power that I can see. If you name your band after one of the few tangible things that might bring down a massive empire, that's a pretty strong statement. To change the name, as that threat is being recognized, seems kind of weak.
Daler Mehandi: the mystery unveiled.
Till now, others scored my albums for me. I only sang. Itwas as simple as that. There was nothing of me that went in except my voice,my energy, my singing skills. Tunak Tunak Tun is different. It is entirely,exclusively me.
Indian summer is here. It's 90F in San Francisco, 93F here in Berkeley: hotter than in L.A.
We took Brigid to our favorite secret beach yesterday for an up-close-and-personal high tide adventure. Really we just wanted to frolic in the mist, but that would have been too easy.
As soon as we arrived, breakers started forming. Moments before, the Pacific looked really quite docile, a shiny bluish complement to the quiet cove. We meandered to the hard packed sand, to scamper at the edge of the surf, but scampers turned to sprints. Brendan and Brigid fought to save a neighboring couple's picnic while I giggled and snapped pictures.
get your war on: wow.
also wow: Afgan war rugs.
I (heart) James Lileks:
the other day I heard a TV reporter say that “planes from the Enterprise had struck bases in Gormalak,” and I thought: what, are we at war with the Cardassians?
OK, I may post the occaisional search term of relevance. Like this one: jiffy lube and larry harvey
Way back when debauchery and art were newsworthy concerns (~6 weeks ago seems like an eon), I posted this about this, and today this is burning up the listservs.
Most who were there call it revisionist history. Some say the whole thing is overplayed, and be can boiled down to drama queens begging for attention. Some wonder what all the fuss is about, seeing that one side or the other - the squeamish, or the artist - has privilege. Whatever. The reason I'm spending keystrokes on the issue is one of the same reasons I stopped going long ago: if the locals don't want Burning Man in their town, then having it there seems like a terrifically bad idea.
do not dress the baby sea turtles in tiny lycra bathing suits! not even for a test swim!
so cute. but so bad.
2001 has consistently seemed like so much rehashing of 1984.
I worked in (Japanese television) production, I had a lovely hair color not found in nature, George H. W. Bush ran the White House, and the international politics of then is coming full circle today. It's all much more fun as an adult than it was as a teenager, truth be told - even as I do and say things that then labelled doers and sayers as aging sellouts. Yeah, I'll take being a sellout over being a teenage runaway, thanks.
I lied and said I was seven years older back then. Today people think I'm seven years younger. It is good to see things from the other side of the cycle.
Vice #3: nostalgia.
ohrwurm: DOA - Fuck You
In the interest of not encouraging pasty flabby clammy-palmed search engine surfers (I got my first STOTM-generated STOTM, see), I'm taking my search terms of the moment over to Disturbing Search Requests. People are freaks. Hooray for DSR.
In Search Of... is on the History Channel, and this episode is on dreams and nightmares. Woohoo! Leonard Nimoy was my hero when this first aired. I think I was 6 years old.
However. I will not watch daytime television; I'm not that unemployed.
At least not until 4pm, when BTVS is on.
Last night I had a post-apocalyptic dream in which I was trying to save people, which is pretty common for me. This one was extra odd because my main tool for the mission was a bag filled with rollerskates. It was heavy; I had to toss it down to the street before jumping off of a building myself.
...
This morning I was greeted by what must be the 5th sign of that impending apocalypse: charming, well meaning teenagers thronging the streets of downtown San Francisco.
It's been a while since I walked around the Financial District, and things are a little different: there are less people, and many of them smiled, tipped their hats (for there were hat wearing gentlemen), said good morning. None made icky kissy/sucking noises. It was delightful. When I got to Market Street, however, things got weird. A tall, gentle looking young man in a neon green jacket and matching cap looked me dead in the eye as I passed him on the corner and said "Hi." It made me grin. Then as I crossed the street, I ran into five other kids in the same outfit; each said "Hi! Have a great day, OK!" I waited to cross the next intersection alongside some icky cornfed frat boys who defiantly ignored the Greeting Kids, repeating over and over as we crossed "there are some scary drugs on the streets these days."
I walked 5 more blocks and saw groups of kids at each intersection, just saying hi to people. I expected to be handed religious literature, but it didn't happen.
On my way back down to Market Street this afternoon, I was met with a sure sign that all is right in the world. There, on Montgomery and Sansome, was this William S. Burroughs looking character that haunted the doorway of 120 Montgomery from (at least I started noticing in)1983 to 1991. He watched the Charles Schwab stock ticker on the corner and jotted down numbers on long pieces of paper. All day. Every day. Back then he had this ancient but timeless crazy-guy quality to him - he looked to be about 70 when I first started seeing him, always bedecked in a camel colored trench coat and hat, standing perfectly still, face scrunched up with the intensity of his work. Today, he was across the street from his old hideout, just standing right on the sidewalk in broad daylight, watching the ticker like always. He looked pretty good. Maybe he stopped smoking.
This week's Best Directive from a Horoscope Award goes to Swoon.
The graphics are the teenage daughter of Genndy Tartovsky and Craig McCracken. The text:"preclude a ruinous act of compliance."
#896, page 18
Bert bin Laden?
Oh my G-d, there is no way this is for real. I thought it was a very cute prank, but now it's either deadly funny or a really elaborate hoax.
ohrwurm: Quickspace - Supo Spot
It's a severely perfect autumn day outside - 74F, tiny little breeze stirring the crimson leaves that line the streets - nice of Yahoo weather to post a severity alert.
"You can't have a magazine about unemployed people. You can't have a magazine about people who are taking time off." Not and sell any copies. But their subscriptions have always been free (or easily wrangled) anyway, so maybe they're more a victim of that myth of profit than of a dearth of content.
Haiku Obituaries Haiku = addictive.
There's a protest somewhere nearby (yeah I know, it's Berkeley, there's pretty much always a protest somewhere nearby), and I can hear it from my livingroom. The closest main drag is 4 blocks away. That's some pretty effective shouting - I can almost make out the slogans.
Is that a mushroom in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?
Turns out that fruit drink was fortified not with 100% RDA of human penis, but with some funky fungal growth. Yes, the coroner had identified it as a fleshy member, upon cursory examination. I mean, look at it. Ew.
We went for a drive Saturday morning and ended up, 5 1/2 hours later (I'd forgotten that everyone drives 90+ mph on Hwy 5.), in Los Angeles. Went shopping on Melrose, grabbed dinner at the best take-out roast chicken dive in the hemisphere, dropped in on my cousin and came home.
Most remarkable thing about the weekend: Hollywood is one big patriotism pagent - from our hotel (recommended - cheap and ridiculously huge suites)roof, everywhere you look there are buildings draped in flags, cars sporting at least 2 clip-ons and a decal or seven, convertibles with flags unfurling from the back. It's crazy.
Second most remarkable thing: turns out I have three friends who are thinking of moving to L.A. very soon, for work, who have never been there before. And they live here. Two are natives, my age, and in 31 years have never visited L.A. I think I'll be taking them along next time.
search term of the moment: cigarrette prices
The next step in synthetic anatomical enhancements: faux fur and leather underwear. Fake leopard-spotted pubic hair creeps me out (but it kind of goes with the rhinoplasty sported by the model here). At least it's on clearance; my faith in humanity (or at least consumers, like myself, of trampy lingerie) is renewed.
Either Bush-speak is contagious, or the Labor Dept. agrees: "...there is no doubt in my mind, not one doubt in my mind, that we will fail."
More pathetic news from Kansas. Don't these people have some koolaid to drink?
The Gospel According to Greenspan And Stan.
Scientists Make Animal Sex
Selection Breakthrough
The scientist in the accompanying photo looks so, um, satisfied, that one wishes the text were wrapped earlier. Now I can't get rid of the image of "the slaughter of large numbers of farm animals at birth because they are the 'wrong' sex." Yow.
This is so crazy: a 17 year old boy was sentenced to 17 years in prison for giving his boarding school buddy a blow job. Oh, yeah, and you think that prison is a good place to purge someone of behavior they picked up in boarding school?
I think I'm finally going to relax a little, and follow Rob Brezsny's suggestion:
"(for the next three weeks) you should put a strong emphasis on pure, heedless enjoyment."
I can do that.
Not My Desk on questionable queries.
search term of the moment: ewan mcgregor complete naked only pictures free
top search term: ewan mcgregor hairstyle pictures (???)
wtf search term: camel peeing
pick on someone your own size: free pictures of naked adolescent girls
come on people please: here are some naked pictures of my ex-girlfriend
don't think you'll find that here: photos of hong kong naked male
what he did on his summer vacation: drugs sex porn amsterdam party girls
Now is a perfect time for happy fairy tales in the news.
Also it's a good time to save the Odeon.
ohrwurm: Bad Brains - Attitude
search term of the moment: lick my wife foot
It's deadly hot here today. Yesterday was the Folsom Street Fair. It's always hot that particular Sunday, but yesterday was extra intense. Not only was it 91F out, which is just sick for San Francisco, but Folsom St. has mostly low buildings, no shade, and yesterday something like 400,000 hot, sweaty, sometimes very hairy bodies packed into it. Note: when navigating through said crowds, it is best to not employ the gentle-hand-to-the-back technique of coaxing your way through a crowd clot. Ew, sweaty.
"Say, son, what do you make of this?"
"Well, dad, I'd have to say you're drinking a penis."