You might've noticed the ol' Valania link on the left-hand side. Methinks the onetime Psyclone Ranger is now yankin' strings and drippin' with juice at Phawker, but you didn't hear that here.
Who would play Fela? Who would rock that speedo and cigarette?
If you look way over in the right column, at the bottom, you'll see a link to my Last.fm profile. The little "chart" widget thingy that they offer isn't really right for my layout -- it's a big ol' unwieldy GIF file that has a static size. I think the text link is more fun, anyway: You must climb the mountain to behold the master.
I think any average sports-loving knucklehead could've told ESPN that its mobile phone venture was a bad idea. I wouldn't want to buy my TV or my computer from ESPN, so why would I want to buy my phone from them?
It takes a high level of corporate hubris to think that your customers will devour any product you throw at them. Some unexpectedly good afternoon ratings for "Pardon The Interruption" don't mean you're invincible in the marketplace.
WSJ.com: Throughout the book you emphasize your love of pranks and jokes. At one point you write that you own a roulette shocker -- four people stick in their thumbs, and one of them eventually gets an electric jolt. Do you use this for party tricks?
Mr. Wozniak: It has good sound effects as well. I've brought it to some engineering events. Hardware people will stick their figures in; software people say, 'No, no.' They won't dare. Hardware people know what it's liked to be shocked. That's one major difference between them and software people.
Beck says the Mexicans used to call him "guero," but it's not something I've ever heard live-and-in-person until this morning. I often pass a paint store where dozens of Central and South American day laborers gather. Usually they just stand around, chatting in groups of three or four. Today some of them were pitching coins along the length of the sidewalk -- it was probably one of those games where you try to get close to a mark without going over, and whoever tosses the closest coin wins all the money on the sidewalk.
There was a white dude obliviously walking about 15 feet in front of me, and he cut right through the middle of their game, along the Y axis, just as one of the guys was throwing a coin. I don't think he actually deflected it, but all of the players started to say "guero."
It wasn't like, "hey guero, you're screwin' up our game!" It was more like "oops, white-boy interference," exclaimed with a few chuckles, as if there was a squirrel on the putting green, a pigeon in front of home plate, or a small child in the horseshoe pit. I wonder what the official Guero Rule is. A do-over?
Fuck Fox, fuck MLB.TV, fuck Major League Baseball, fuck 'em all.
OK, so the Phillies/Marlins game today, a game with playoff implications, is a Fox "game of the week." So is the UTTERLY MEANINGLESS Mets/Nationals game. Guess which one I'm stuck watching?
To boot, the MLB.TV pennant package isn't worth shit on Saturdays -- everything is blacked out before 7 p.m. -- so I couldn't watch the game online. I tried to LISTEN to the game online, but I couldn't get the streaming audio to work in Firefox or Safari.
The tech guy at MLB.TV sounded annoyed that I actually had the nerve to call them. Strike one. Then he puts me on hold for awhile, comes back, and says, "I'm sorry sir, I'm not going to be able to help you now, because my system is down." Strike two. I didn't even let it get to strike three -- I canceled my subscription right there.
You can hear the music in the way Ornette Coleman talks:
“Life is already complete,” he said. “You can’t learn what life is. And the only way you die is if something kills you. So if life and death are already understood, what are we doing?”
“Right now, I’m trying to play the instrument,” he said, “and I’m trying to write, without any restrictions of chord, keys, time, melody and harmony, but to resolve the idea eternally, where every person receives the same quality from it, without relating it to some person.”
ADDENDUM: If you search sfgate.com for "BNE," you get nothing, That's some really tuff search-tech they got there, whooboy. You can find this story, however, if you do a site-specific search via Google. I don't see any Google hits for BNE on sfweekly.com.
POSTSCRIPT: Sounds like BNE is an order of magnitude tuffer than Borf.
The infamous Rob D introduced me to No For An Answer many years ago ... I hadn't bothered to look for a CD reissue in a long time. Revelation finally hooked it up, but I have no clue when. The "You Laugh" EP has "Without A Reason," which is like, quintessential.
Yet another daytime commercial on CNN has sparked my imagination: I find myself infinitely turned on by the vapidity, day-glo colors and sparkly beauty-marks of the Dotster Dots. The Cesspool, unlucky in a Google and YouTube search, hereby orders a dragnet for all images and videos of these temptresses. Post links in the comments section, and don't delay. I'll be filled with longing in the meantime.
The chick in the commercial probably has gigantic fuckin' triceps. Video here.
This might be my favorite campaign commercial of all time, but I'll admit that I might be influenced by the fact that it played about a hundred times last night on ESPN. Every piece of the oratory is obviously a thinly veiled reference to something-or-other. But he only goes after The Washington Post, not any of the other candidates. It's all code -- all of it. I think Vinny was polling at about 7 percent today.
So the question becomes: Is anybody going to write counter-counter-intuitive/anti-backlash-backlash columns about those two columns? The answer is probably yes, of course. This is football; our national brainpower is at its mercy.
I now remove myself from this Noam Chomsky moment to go check my fantasy team.
When Pixar Animation Studios set out to make Cars ... artists there found that the metallic bodies of the vehicular characters did not shine quite right unless they added ray tracers to the usual raster rendering system. On all its previous movies, the studio had resisted using ray tracing for the same reason that makers of games and other interactive software have: the intensity of computation that the physics demands has always brought microprocessors to their knees. Even with Pixar's fast network of 3,000 state-of-the-art computers, each second of finished film took days to render. Film producers may tolerate such delays, but gamers, engineers and doctors generally will not.
(I drank many beers at this show, probably because it was so upbeat and engrossing. Imagine that -- jams that don't get boring. The crowd was thin because of Ernesto, so there was room to stand and gape, with the feeling that nobody else was in the room. I did a lot of gaping and turning around to nod to Matt K, who is tall and usually stands behind me at shows.)
RIP Steve Irwin, thanks for all the information-packed "Crocodile Hunter" marathons and the "Sportscenter" commercial where you tackle the University of Florida mascot. But I'm thinking this: I wonder if anybody has ever done a Freudian analysis of his shows. Y'know, something like: "long, powerful, predatorial and sometimes poisonous animals handled by an overly enthusiastic, boyish adventure-seeker." The stingray accident is even more poignant in such a context.
Because that's why you read the Cesspool, groundling! From this week's EW article about the 20th anniversary of the "Pee Wee Herman Show":
Steve Oakes (supervising producer): Paul sweats a lot, so we went out and rented one of those air-conditioning trucks that cool off jets while they're on the tarmac. At one point, everyone was wearing parkas and had colds in the middle of August.
I feel obligated to buy something from iTunes by OK Go. Everybody loves the treadmill video, but is everybody paying back the band for that little slice o' sunshine? That's some goddamn hard work on display -- they should be treated like the best buskers ever.