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April 24, 2006
Headline of the day, week, month, and possibly year
From today’s Chronicle, page B2:
Naked Man Gets Stuck in Chimney
Apparently this poor bastard stumbled home after closing time Friday night, only to find himself locked out of the house where he was staying in Hayward. His alcohol-assisted decision process led him to believe that a) the best thing to do was to go in through the chimney, and b) his clothes would only get in the way. He started rappelling down the chimney using the TV cable, which snapped. Let’s fast-forward a little bit: “His muffled calls for help finally prompted a neighbor to phone police about 6:30 a.m.”
I bet you feel a lot better about whatever stupid thing you did this weekend, don’t you?
Posted by bill at 4:16 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 21, 2006
Tan in 60 Seconds
The Express on the floor is folded open to an ad with the headline “GET TAN IN 60 SECONDS.”
Now excuse me, but wouldn’t any tan you could get in 60 seconds be better described as “radiation burns”?
Posted by bill at 9:30 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 19, 2006
Colbert Does It Again
In case you missed it, it’s not too late to catch a rerun of last night’s Colbert Report, which contained a brilliant riff inspired by an article in the Journal of Paleolimnology. (How many TV shows can say that?) The Journal published a study theorizing that, rather than walking on water, Jesus could in fact have been walking on a freakish patch of ice. (What an idiotic thing to study—but never mind.)
Stephen took offense at this, and by way of proving that it is possible to walk on water, showed a clip from the Cars’ “Magic” video, where Ric Ocasek strolls across the surface of a swimming pool. That would have been enough for me, but the camera panned left to reveal Ric Ocasek himself, who testified that a) he was not walking on ice in the video and b) he was willing to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt.
Then Ocasek helped Stephen add the Journal of Paleolimnology to his “On Notice” board, and Stephen asked Ocasek if there was anyone he’d like to add. Ocasek replied “Todd Rundgren,” a reference to the fact that Rundgren is currently touring with a couple of ex-Cars in a band called “the New Cars.” Rundgren was added to the board and Cars fans everywhere slept a little easier.
Posted by bill at 5:19 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
April 18, 2006
The Bright Side of Disaster
You say you want positive and life-affirming? How about these items from 1906 editions of the Chronicle, showing the upside of the great San Francisco earthquake and fire.
April 26
To the hoboes and tramps that infest San Francisco in large numbers throughout the year, the earthquake came as the forerunner of a time of plenty. Amid the general destitution that the country is doing its utmost to relieve, the tramps are passing themselves off as sufferers of the disaster and are living much better than they usually fare.
April 28
Social note: The town is on the level in every sense of the word. No more ghouls are shot because there is nothing to steal. Yet the smashed buildings and desolate streets do not represent the significant leveling. The material loss is overwhelming, but it does not stagger the imagination. A few hundred millions will mend the hurt and there are many people here today who think the shakeup is worth it. The leveling that they are willing to pay for is social. Society is on the ground, face to face, jowl to jowl. Every artificial barrier is swept away. The conventions, the pride, the show and the ease which these people have been erecting for 50 years have been swept away with the same swiftness and finality shown by the flames toward the property.
The loss of life is small; the loss of social position colossal. Now nothing counts but human love. Money has momentarily lost its purchasing power. Servants, luxury, habits, prestige — yes, and enmity, feuds, hatreds, jealousies and contempt have disappeared. Humanity is on the flat and everyone is on the level.
It’s a free start, everyone beginning over again, rich and poor alike.
Posted by bill at 5:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 17, 2006
A Brief Misanthropic Rant
I did not come to the Hudson Bay Café tonight intending to launch into a brief misanthropic rant. My intention was to read some Don Quixote, but the endless vacuous blather of the college girls at the next table has made that impossible. Yes, I could move to another table, but I’m in the cherry spot of the café and loath to give it up. Instead I’ve been trying to make their heads explode with my mind powers, so far without success.
How can they talk so goddamn much? This always amazes me. I am a man of few words, by nature and by choice. I’ve never quite understood how people can generate a nonstop stream of chatter that goes on for hours. Sometimes I envy them; fewer awkward silences. But at the moment I am filled with loathing. Could just be a case of the Mondays.
The best song on this subject is John Cale’s “Rosegarden Funeral of Sores” (also excellently covered by Bauhaus), which begins thusly:
Virgin Mary was tired
So tired
Tired of listening to gossip
Gossip and complaints…
They came from next door.
It gets uglier from there, culminating with a line about the “parasitic scream of whores.” Cale’s words are far stronger than any I would choose, but once in a while I understand where he’s coming from.
Glad to have gotten that off my chest. Expect positive and life-affirming content to resume tomorrow.
Posted by bill at 12:19 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 16, 2006
Don Quixote Quote of the Day
“A mouth without molars is like a mill without a millstone, and dentation is to be valued much more than diamonds.”
(Grossman translation, p. 133)
Posted by bill at 12:06 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 15, 2006
Don Quixote Quote of the Day
“Now turn your eyes in the other direction, and you will see in front of and at the head of the other army the ever victorious and never defeated Timonel of Carcajona, prince of Nueva Vizcaya, who wears his armor quartered—blue, green, white and yellow—and who bears on his shield a cat of gold on a tawny field, with a legend that reads: Meow.”
(Grossman translation, p. 128)
Posted by bill at 8:43 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 13, 2006
Alarming Developments in the Heavens
Some sort of strange yellow orb appeared in the sky today, bringing with it bright light and heat. There’s something oddly familiar about it, and yet I fear it, and have been fighting the impulse to put a towel over my head and begin chanting.
Can it be that the sky is finally empty of its liquid contents? Much as I’ve been wishing for a respite from the downpour, now that it’s here, I feel uneasy, like this is just a pause before the next plague begins. I hope it’s frogs. That was always my favorite. I don’t see what’s so bad about frogs; they’re definitely preferable to boils, and certainly to the smiting of the firstborn. Much as I enjoy a good smiting, that’s one I personally prefer to avoid.
Hmm, kind of rambling here. Punchy. Think the Seasonal Affective has disrupted my sleep pattern. Better leave off now. Hope all is well in your world.
Posted by bill at 9:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 12, 2006
The Sopranos & the Rainy Season
The only upside of this endless fucking rain we’ve been having is that it’s prompted me to finally get serious about The Sopranos, which I’ve been holding in reserve for just such an occasion. It’s all good, but the show really hits a peak in the fourth season, where I am now. Each episode is a little universe unto itself. I’ve watched several times now one where Johnny Sack, underboss of the New York family, goes insane with rage over a joke Joe Pantoliano’s character makes about his refrigerator-sized wife.
Spoiler alert: I’m not going to hold anything back, so if you haven’t seen this yet, by all means go rent it right now, then come back and finish reading after you’ve watched it.
Vince Curatola gives an incredible performance as Johnny. There’s no crack in the illusion whatsoever; only much later does it occur to you that it’s someone acting, pretending to feel and say and do those things. The contrast between the sweetness of Johnny’s love for his wife and the violent anger it inspires in him is an amazing thing to behold. You watch with horror as he undoes himself over this insult, insisting that the Pantoliano character, Ralphie, be killed. Everyone around him, including his boss, Carmine, views this as a gross overreaction, but Johnny can’t let it go. He hires an assassin to take out Ralphie despite Carmine’s disapproval, a major violation of the rules. Meanwhile, a plot has been set in motion to whack Johnny, who is now considered bad for business.
For a while it really looks like two guys are going to die over a fat joke. Then the whole thing just evaporates. Johnny leaves his house on his way to Rhode Island, where he’s going to disappear, just as a psycho-looking Asian guy walks into Ralphie’s hotel with a gun. Then Johnny remembers something he meant to bring along on his trip and returns home, where he finds his wife in the basement digging into her secret stash of candy bars. In that moment, the veil is lifted from his eyes, and he calls off the hit on Ralphie, which in turn allows him to go on living. I’m in awe of the way this whole thing is orchestrated; it’s totally crazy and totally convincing. Enough to make me forget the rain, for a while at least.
Posted by bill at 8:36 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 11, 2006
Revenge of the Poetic Spam
My spam filter seems to have gotten hip to these, so I haven’t gotten one in my inbox for awhile, but the following slipped through a couple days ago. I think that this is about George W. Bush (best line: “extemporaneous bicker toga flow, a Republican radiologist whitewash”).
To read this with line breaks intact, click on “Comments” below to bring it up in its own window.
Monitor Exhibition
analogy pissed presumption
bedspread intercourse corduroy
an apex as sound barrier, by payload humanize a skit escapist
inspirational valuable appetite
minus sign wrought elsewhere
instant solitaire and grounds, with whistle dressing room
knee-deep expertly copulate
contradiction avail vandalize sheepishly as squid affect
untried brave in hyper reclining
menstruate smitten: that malaria and clam threatening
write-up phone book of flaunt ignore, that upheld a pragmatist
the tug of pen pal fearlessness and pride
extemporaneous bicker toga flow, a Republican radiologist whitewash
a spry balance of power by male chauvinist employment agency
industrialist thereabouts jockey
an ATM, the nail polish, a brainstorm, the handpicked accessibility
unbearable the obstruction
obliterate animal October expressly to hill parochial
ecosystem and contemplative grouping
that duke rat race
subdued Chief Executive to voice the parched greatness
the smoke screen bricklayer
wheat, comatose, rapt pole vault!
Posted by bill at 8:40 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 10, 2006
What the guy at the coffee shop said when I asked for a bagel
“All we have is everything.”
Posted by bill at 4:10 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 9, 2006
Don Quixote Quote of the Day
“All these squalls to which we have been subjected are signs that the weather will soon improve and things will go well for us, because it is not possible for the bad or the good to endure forever; from this it follows that since the bad has lasted for so long a time, the good is close at hand.”
(Grossman translation, p. 132)
Posted by bill at 1:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack