It's all a matter of perspective.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Go here to hear a series of interviews with Arkansas voters. Their knowledge of the issues and cunning intellect cuts to the bone.
I have two favorites, and of course, they save the best for last. First is insufferable honkey, Leotis Smith, who has never voted for a republican, but reminds us that the country is not ready for an African American in the White House, "I'm onna tell ya, I wonna furhurrrepiden - I jus not ready fur it, I not ready fur it myself."
And finally, a sweet lady at the Bus Stop named Darlene, who isn't voting this year. Not because of her multiple felonies, but because, "I ain't getting shit." When the reporter points out that Obama is an African American candidate, she takes issue, "His Mammy White!"
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I have two new things to tell you about. First of all, I have discovered the greatest blog off all time, ever. It is captivating. I cannot stop reading it. The best satire I have seen in a long time. My favorite parts are the incredulous commenters. Some people are so gullible to think that they can correct this person. Pure Genius.
The second thing I wanted to mention is that I only fuel my vehicles from this source.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
This what I am talking about.
Bottom to top:
Hand Sliced and Buttered Marble Rye Toast
Home Made Refrigerator Dill Chips
Fresh Ground Pepper
Minced Red Onion
Nothing makes me happier.
Friday, May 09, 2008
So I got my acoustic guitar, Wylie choose my mandolin, and Miles brought a mystery bugle. Our rule was, when a song is done, pass your instrument to the right. Whoever felt like singing was the band leader.
Here is a recording of our grand finale. It was written by Miles and features him on mando and lead vocals, Wylie on mystery bugle, and The Dadoe on guitar and backup vocals. The title of the song is, Eat Spinach All Day. Be sure and notice Wylie's note of punctuation at the end.
Friday, May 02, 2008
My best buddy Dan sent me a link to this really cool Sound Pressure Decibel Level Chart. It starts with the quietest sound ever measured and works its way up to the loudest. The first entry reads:
-80 UNDERWATER NUCLEAR SUBMARINE MICROPHONES LISTENING TO SHRIMP CHEWING ON FOOD AT 100 METERS DISTANCENow that is pretty quiet, right. As it moves up the list, some of the louder things tend to sound familiar:
That seems about like my experience. Sit on the front row of a Rock and Roll show, or sit next to a loud drummer in band rehearsal and the low frequencies will make your pants legs vibrate. Also, your ears ring that night and maybe the next day or two. (If the drummer was Lee Susky.)
116 HUMAN BODY BEGINS TO PERCIEVE VIBRATION IN THE LOW FREQUENCIES
117-123 HOME STEREO SYSTEM, A VERY LOUD AND POWERFUL 200-2000 WATTS
120-130 FRONT ROW AT A ROCK CONCERT- UP TO 200 REFRIGERATOR SIZE SPEAKERS AND 50000-300000 WATTS OF CLEAN, FULL FREQUENCY SOUND
125 DRUM SET-ONLY AT THE MOMENT OF STRIKING, CONTINOUS LEVEL
127 HUMAN TINNITUS (RINGING IN THE EARS) BEGINS
Things start to get real loud after that.
I love The Who, but I am not really sure why you would want a concert experience to be very uncomfortable and slightly painful, let alone VERY UNCOMFORTABLE AND SLIGHTLY PAINFUL. On the other hand, having my breathing vibrating to the sound might be kinda neat.
148 HUMAN VIBRATION VERY UNCOMFORTABLE AND SLIGHTLY PAINFUL
149 HUMAN LUNGS AND BREATHING BEGINS VIBRATING TO THE SOUND
150 ROCK CONCERT “THE WHO” TWO 10 STORY STACKS = 144 DOUBLE REFRIDGERATOR SIZED SPEAKERS
(Side note: Once in college I was rehearsing with my band, Electric Church, at the HSU Phi Lamb house during the summer break. We were under the influence of moderate amounts of various mood enhancers, and mostly working on 'Jam in E' for about 40 minutes at a stretch. There was this old ceiling fan in the room. One of those big ol' heavy ones that vibrated back and forth at a moderate tempo. After about an hour of rehearsal we realized that no matter what tempo the song started, soon enough the ceiling fan would be playing quarter notes for us.)
Now this is the part for Al Gore. The loudest sound ever recorded on the earth.
310 KRAKATOA VOLCANO ERUPTION-1883 A.D.
- CRACKED ONE FOOT THICK CONCRETE AT 300 MILES
- CREATED A 3000 FOOT TIDAL WAVE
- HEARD 3100 MILES AWAY
- SOUND PRESSURE CAUSED BAROMETERS TO FLUCTUATE WILDLY AT 100 MILES INDICATING LEVELS OF AT LEAST 170-190 DB AT THIS DISTANCE
- EVEN WHEN SHOUTING IN SOMEONES EAR, COULD NOT BE HEARD AT 100 MILES
- CAUSED FOG TO APPEAR AND DISAPPEAR INSTANTLY AT HUNDREDS OF MILES
- ROCKS WERE THROWN TO A HEIGHT OF 34 MILES.
- DUST AND DEBRIS FELL CONTINUOUSLY FOR 10 DAYS AFTER BLAST.
- PRODUCED VERY COLORFUL SUNSETS FOR ONE YEAR
- EJECTED 4 CUBIC MILES OF THE EARTH
- CREATED ANTI-NODE OF NEGATIVE PRESSURE AT THE EXACT OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE EARTH
- SOUND COVERED 1 / 10 OF THE WORLDS SURFACE
- SHOCK (SOUND) WAVES “ECHOED” AROUND THE EARTH 36 TIMES AND LASTED FOR ABOUT A MONTH!
I am pretty sure that this represents more pollution than human kind can put into the air, even with our grandest doomsday machines. Notice this it caused pretty sunsets, not the flooding of Manhattan.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Our last visit to Juneau was in July; the time of year that tricks people into moving up there. It was 75 degrees, sunny, cool, with 20 or so hours of daylight every day. This visit, in April, was the exact opposite. It either rained a steady and thick mist, or dropped giant snowflakes the whole week. The temperature hovered around freezing. It never really looked like daytime.
I am not the outdoorsman that I was when I was younger, but still, you go to Alaska, you have to get out and hike, right? So I did. I made two nice hikes, about two miles from our friend's house, both at a lovely US Forest Service park that surrounds the Mendenhall Glacier. I hiked there a little bit last visit too. This is what it looks like in the summer:
Pretty, huh. A gigantic glacier swoops down from the Juneau Icefield where its retreat has left a beautiful lake. To stand at this spot in July and take a picture feels like standing in front of a huge air conditioner vent. My host, Mr. Gottschlich works for Temsco in the summertime and leads groups of tourists on Helicopter tours of the Glacier. Nice gig!
This is the same spot in April:
As you can see, the lake is totally frozen, the mountain tops are covered by snow clouds, and you wish you would have worn a warmer coat.
The day this picture was taken, it was actually warm enough that it was raining instead of snowing, and the ice on the ground was melting. I hit the trail and managed to make it about a mile and a half when I ran into this:
Hard to tell from the picture, but it slopes uphill pretty steep, and right to left pretty steep. There is a steady stream of meltwater running across the icy path, and nothing on either side of the trail to hold on to. I decided to retreat and come back another day.
Finally, on our last full day in AK, Miss J decided to spare me another trip to Fred Meyer and let me go out in the woods again. Lucky for me, this is what I saw when I walked outside:
Frisbee sized snowflakes. The trail will not be icy today! The only problem was the footprints were snowed under and I had a hard time following along. Here are a few pictures of things I noticed along the way:
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The old-guard feminist establishment has also rushed out of cold storage to embrace Hillary Clinton via tremulous manifestoes of gal power that have startlingly exposed the sentimental slackness of thought that made Gloria Steinem and company wear out their welcome in the first place. Hillary's gonads must be sending out sci-fi rays that paralyze the paleo-feminist mind -- because her career, attached to her husband's flapping coattails, has sure been heavy on striking pious attitudes but ultra-light on concrete achievements.
The angst and fury boiling on talk radio, from both hosts and callers, have been truly operatic in drama and intensity. It's been a riveting spectator sport. But this eruption would come as no surprise to longtime listeners. What the mainstream press has failed to realize is that nationally syndicated hosts, such as Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity and Laura Ingraham, have always drawn a very firm distinction between their views and those of the party establishment in Washington. They have consistently maintained, and supported it in detail, that they are conservatives first and Republicans second. They have fiercely denounced the party when it has strayed from conservative principles. McCain, who has co-sponsored liberal legislation and courted and flattered Beltway journalists, has been a longtime target.
This disarray among Republicans, which may depress voter turnout or even spawn a protest splinter party, offers a fantastic opening to Democrats, if the party can only seize it. The galvanizing energy aroused by Barack Obama's thrilling coast-to-coast victories gives Democrats a clear shot at regaining the White House. However, the three-faced Hillary, that queen of triangulation, would be a nice big gift to Republicans, who are itching to romp all over the Clintons' 20-volume encyclopedia of tawdry scandals.
John McCain's courage under torture during the Vietnam War deserves everyone's gratitude and respect. But as a national candidate, the stumpy, uptight McCain is a lemon. Oy, that weaselly voice and those dated locutions and stilted intonations. Who needs a weird old coot with a short fuse in the White House? This isn't a smart game plan for the war on terror.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
1.)I have a built in thermo-nuclear heat plant in my body. I radiate heat like a gas grill. Even on the coldest nights of the winter, I cannot get under more than one blanket. Pajamas are a complete waste for me; I can never sleep in more than a t-shirt and boxer shorts. In the summertime I sleep on top of the covers with two fans pointed at me. I start sweating at the least amount of exertion. I never put on a coat. Yet, oddly enough, I smell great!
2.)I am a musician and a music lover, but I have no interest in 99% of contemporary artists. There is nothing on MTV, VH1, or CMT that I want to hear. Indie Rock makes me want to put my fingers in my ears. Most of what passes for Jazz these days is elevator music. Most of what passes for Country is (for the male vocalists) bad rock sung in a cornpone accent or (female vocalists) songs that were cast-off by Celine Dion. Contemporary Christian is like bad modern Country, but without the fake accent and fiddles. Thank God that Sting, Tom Petty, Paul Simon, Dwight Yoakum, Ricky Skaggs, Bruce Hornsby, Buddy FREAKING Miller, John Scofield, Bela Fleck, and other all-time favorites are still making records.
A few exceptions to prove the rule: John Mayer, John Legend, Anthony Hamilton, Ryan Adams.
3.)I love to cook, and I have a lot of classical cooking knowledge and a few skills. I can make some fancy-smancy meals. But my favorite thing to prepare and eat is sandwiches. Big sandwiches with lots of stuff inside - that are almost too big to bite into. Today for lunch I had a sandwich with spicy mustard, homemade pickles, Swiss cheese, leftover pork loin, tomatoes, alfalfa sprouts, rice vinegar, and mayo on sourdough bread. As usual, it was the shiz.
4.)I refuse to ever make a car payment. I drive jalopies that I either pay a small amount of cash for, or are handed down to me from family members when they are too old and unreliable for them to drive. Right now I driving a ’96 Buick Regal that was my mee-maw’s, then my mom’s, and now has a quarter of a million miles on it. Sometimes it does not start for weeks, and I am stuck bumming rides everywhere until it magically heals itself. I still prefer this to a car payment.
My last car was a 93 Chrysler New Yorker/5th Ave. I gave $1200 for it. The next morning on my way to work a lady ran a stop sign and hit me in the side. A week later I got an insurance check for $1200. FREE CAR!! Who cares if it has a huge dent in the side and one of the back doors does not open. After a year or so, My mom passed down the Buick and I gave the Chrysler to my Hippie Brother-in-law. He drove it for a week; when suddenly the radiator came completely apart while driving down in freeway. By the time he got it to the side of the road, the head was cracked. It never ran again.
5.)Any time I sign a guestbook at a wedding, or a funeral, at the door to a government building, or am asked to sign a petition, or fill out a visitor card at a church – I always put “Jerry Garcia, Haight St. & Ashbury St., San Francisco, CA 94117”
I would be really interested to see what wierd things The Dude, Janna, and Currey would confess to . . .
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Indeed, if you bracket all the scary, irresponsible health-and-wealth cheerleading that jolts through Become a Better You, this exurban image of God the indulgent dad is among the more troubling features of the gospel according to Osteen. For it turns out that the divine hand turns up everywhere, at least in Joel Osteen's life. God upgrades his reservations to first class on a long international flight; God spares his car in a water-planing wipeout on the Houston interstate; God allows Osteen and his wife/co-pastor, Victoria, to flip a property "for twice as much as we paid for it" in a once-sketchy Houston neighborhood; God swings a critical vote on the Houston zoning board to permit Lakewood to move to its mammoth Compaq Center digs—and God even saw fit 35 years earlier to ensure the engineer who designed the ramps leading to the Compaq Center provided easy parking access for Lakewood. This is a long, long way down the road from the inscrutable, infant-damning theology of this country's Calvinist forebears—it is, rather, a just-in-time economy's vision of salvation, an eerily collapsible spiritual narcissism that downgrades the divine image into the job description for a lifestyle concierge. Lakewood and Osteen seem to keep God so preoccupied it's a wonder He can ever find the time to stock his fridge or whip out His wallet.