shake it
like a polaroid picture
4.30.2002
Google Tricks
Look what Andy did.
You hope it's just a case of Tom and Huck. But you suspect that it's tragic. And you think, "come on guys. Look at us and laugh. And then come home. Please."
FoxNews: because it doesn't matter whether or not it's true.
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Goodness. I had stopped reading Bobblog for a while (Bob wasn't updating while he was working on his PhD). It's back, and holy shit does it look good. Movable Type, word.
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Nice horsey
Wow
Great picture
4.29.2002
Smoke up, Johnny
For the children.
A ladder to home ownership
Harper and I like to look at homes for sale. And dream. Because as it stands now, we worry that we will never be able to afford a home in San Francisco.
Home ownership is a fundamentally good thing for communities. It is in a community's best interest to have a high percentage of home owners. So I was happy to see that San Francisco is moving towards making it easier for the middle class to buy homes. That's very smart, and a very good thing for the City.
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Yuck
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Say hello to eMac
It's fun to violate the D-M-C-A! (thanks Dave!)
Do it yourself
The movie.
128 arrests and where does it get you?
What do we do about the Paul Sanchezes?
4.26.2002
Today will be the one-year anniversary of my first Critical Mass ride. (And to remember Chris Robertson, here is the poster I'll have affixed to my backpack today.)
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As an update to the horrifying image below, Peter sent me this. Does it make it better? I don't know. I'm horrified by it all.
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Mark Morford, as usual, taps into the way I'm feeling.But then again, not. Then again, it all seems much worse than it ever has in your lifetime. You don't want to believe it but you look and look and cringe and wince and it's all renewed nuclear strategy this and bloody Israeli conflict that, heightened tensions with Iraq here and brutal civil war there and far too much hey get your holy hands off me, Father, just about everywhere.(snip)
We are so close. We are on the verge of something very dangerous and irreversible. You can hear Dick Cheney breathing hard, just aching to press The Button. The human animal is capable of staggering atrocities and deadly choices and the thick-necked frat boys in charge right now are the most darkly capable we've suffered in decades.
Today is Critical Mass. Ride wit me?
Silicon Alley News on The New York Sun
In the technology section, an article looks at the current rage for flat panel computer monitors and delves into whether readers should buy one.
That's the first mention of my article I've seen. (thanks Dad!)
Holy shit this is a depressing fucking picture.
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In the past week I've...
Handed in 5 (5!) articles, written 3 pitch letters, applied for 3 contract jobs, gone on 1 job interview, and completely rewritten my resume.
Phew....
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Seven Songs and a Confession III
Remember, they aren't the best ever, just right now.And yours?
- The Notwist: Trashing Days (Tim + KBK: Word)
- And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead: Mark David Chapman
- Of Montreal: In The Army Kid
- Willie Nelson: Me and Paul
- Squeeze: Goodbye Girl
- A Tribe Called Quest: Left My Wallet In El Segundo
- William De Vaughn: Be Happy With What You've Got
When I was a kid, my dad had this woven leather belt that he used to spank me with. It would leave little welts on my ass, and I hated the thing. We also had two dachshunds, neither of which I was overly fond of. We were taking care of them for some friends of my parents. We had them for nearly two years. They were never our dogs, and they were never very friendly. One of them even bit me on the face once. I mean, I was okay with the dogs. And at times I really enjoyed them. But it was episodic. Furthermore, they would chew up anything that wasn't made of metal. Once, after I'd gotten the strap, I took the belt and teased the dogs with it. I played tug-of-war with them, and snapped it back and forth in front of their noses. Then, I hurled it under my parents' bed, and watched them scramble after it. Later, I heard my dad yelling at the dogs, and he tossed them outside. I never saw the belt again.
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4.25.2002
Excellent. Mercury Rev is coming to town one night before Watt.
Um. Dad?
4.24.2002
Kiss me, you magnificent bastard.
Google Search: nun beating
Doh! Yikes! Egads! Noooooooo!
Nurses
Harper is a nurse. I get to see a lot of the back end of nursing. The things you don't think about. The things that you probably should think about. It's a cliche, but... Nurses are overworked, and underpaid. Harper is a fucking hero. All of society is better for what she does.
Nurses are the frontline of the medical profession. Nurses are the primary caregivers in hospitals, and make more decisions about patients medical conditions and treatments than any other employee. When you or I fuck up at our jobs, the negative consequences typically aren't that severe. If Harper fucks up, children die. Even when she does everything right, children die. That's what she deals with at work. That's so impossibly hard I can't even imagine it. I couldn't handle it. Yet she does. She's 26. And she certainly isn't in it for the money.
People do die in hospitals. Every day. And when they do, more than anyone else, it is the nurse who is there to deal with the family. For patients, nurses can mean the difference between life and death. For hospitals, they can mean the difference between a lawsuit or not. Nurses ought to be paid more, and they damn sure should have lower nurse to patient ratios. The current state of affairs is criminal, and that there is a massive nationwide nursing shortage is hardly surprising.
But above and beyond everything else, nurses deserve our thanks. They are like teachers, firefighters and EMTs. Society utterly depends on them. Yet they are compensated very poorly for what they do. Knowing what kind of things nurses do, and how little they are paid for it, quite frankly, scares the shit out of me.
And it should scare you too. Really.
You and I can't do diddly squat about nurse to patient ratios, or how much nurses are paid. But we can thank them. The next time you're in the hospital, or a doctor's office, or you just meet a nurse at a party, please tell them thanks for shouldering society's burdon.
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Send in the clones.
4.23.2002
An article on Blogs and The Sun with no honan.net mention? Man, I feel so left out.
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Pope on Nun Beating: Bad Idea.
"People need to know that there is no place in the priesthood and religious life for those who would harm the young" Really? No shit? Man. Well. That certainly changes things. I was thinking of going into the preisthood. But now? Forget it. Boy, you really put me in my place, Pope. Thanks for clearing that up, eh?
Hey, um, Pope. I've got the 17th century here on line two. They say they want their worldview back.
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Fun with Telemarketers
I love to screw with telemarketers. I have several prescripted ideas that I enjoy trying out. Praying. Talking dirty. Keeping them on the line for ages. Pretending to be mentally incompetent and ordering lots of product. But sometimes it's best just to be goofy. Yesterday, I picked up the phone, and heard only silence. Then a click. Then a man's voice saying "let's see here...." Then, "Hello?"
"Hello."
"May I speak with Mrs. Honan?"
"Hang on." (Very. Long. Wait.) Deep, gruff voice: "Hello."
"Hello, Mrs. Honan?"
"Who?"
"Mrs. Honan?"
"Hang on." (Very. Long Wait. Number. Two. )
On the other end I hear deep sighing. Chips are munched. A voice says:
"Soooooo...." (whistling. no. really. whistling. the guy was actually whistling.)
I pick up the phone (it was on speakerphone). I take it with me over to my glass of orange juice and take several big, slurpy, gurgling, gulps.
"Um, Mrs. Honan?"
Big Gruff Voice: "I'm! Drinking! Orange! Juice!"
"Mrs. Honan?"
"Orange Juice!
"Is, um... Is this Mrs. Honan?"
"Orrrrrrrrraaaaaaange Juuuuuuuuuuuuice."
The end.
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4.22.2002
Happy Birthday Andy!
Hey I can't believe I didn't realize you had launched! Waxy.org. Bookmark it.
Welcome back,KBK.
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Yes!
How sad.
It turns out the "get your war on" guy is a minutemen fan (inspired by 'em too). The NY Times has a great writeup on the story behind the strip. (thanks Dave!)
I really do feel like things are about to boil over. America is very rapidly becoming two different nations.
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Best.Picture.Ever.
I fond this via Instant Enemy. I don't know how to link to his individual posts. But check out the one from Friday labeled "Summer Fun Tips." Good times.
Pictures of You
This past weekend was one of those that makes me realize how much I love San Francisco, and what a wonderful place it it. Friday night we went to go watch Jeff and Ezra play at Cafe International, and Rampy work the drum machine robot and MC. Afterwards we split to go see one of my favorite bands, of Montreal, at Cafe Du Nord. I'd never seen them before, and was excited to do so. Particularly because I lived (briefly) in the same house as the bass player, Derek. When we arrived, I was surprised to discover that Marshmallow Coast was playing (see my friday seven). What surprised me even more, though, was how good they were, particularly the bass player, who looked like a bigger version of Derek with longer hair. He was blistering. I couldn't believe that the guy was in a straight up pop-band.
Of course, it was Derek, Marshmallow Coast being an of Montreal side-project. And Of Montreal was spectacular. Rob and I have this joke about them, "okay, enough with the flugelhorn, already." Not that I don't love their music. But. Well. Sometimes you think they're showing off. But I didn't feel that way at all seeing them live. Even on a song that switched time signatures about six times. I got to chat with Derek afterwards, and I was surprised to see that he remembered me (sort of... "Mat Honan... How do I know that name? Did you always have a mohawk?") Anyway. They were just amazing. One of the more interesting and upbeat shows I've seen in a few years, and to see them at tiny-ass Cafe Du Nord, well, gravy.
Saturday, when we were off to get something to eat, we stumbled into the middle of a massive anti-war protest. The paper said 20,000 showed up (see below). It was phenominal, and invigorating. The protest was dominated by Palestinians, and it was one of the most moving displays I've ever seen. Ever. It's one thing to see a bunch of middle class white kids protesting Chevron. But it's something altogether different to see people begging, pleading, hoping, for peace. Particularly when those people and their families are in the line of fire.
On Sunday, we went to an Earth Day festival down at Precita Park. We got there late, and headliner Michael Franti was playing. I've seen Franti twice before (once with Spearhead) and the man can flat out work a crowd. I have quite literally never seen anyone get a crowd as energized as Franti did during that closing number. For a finale, he brought Bob Weir, Wavy Gravy, Woody Harrellson and a host of others onstage with him for an extended jam. (I also heard him call out "Flea and Anthony," but I didn't see them onstage.) The park went A.P.E.S.H.I.T. I'm not as into energy as Harper is, and I don't really get into all that new age stuff. But the energy there was incredible and imposible to ignore. The crowd was sharing a collective euphoria. It was truly jaw-dropping.
Meanwhile, there's a NORML convention in town this weekend, and I've been seeing NORML and 420 flyers everywhere. San Francisco. I love it.
(Click on any of the images to enlarge them.)
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Jeff and Ezra played Friday night at the Cafe International. Listen to the new tunes, and peep the fancy camera work.
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Amelia sent me a killer button for my site. And. It'd be great if you want to use it too. Want to link me? Insert the following code somewhere in your blog's template:
<a href="http://www.honan.net"> <img src="http://www.honan.net/images/emptyage.gif"> </a>
Which will produce this:
Woo-hoo
We came across this massive anti-Bush protest on Saturday. It was quite moving; the largest and most heartfelt rally I've ever seen. I took lots of pictures. More later.
4.19.2002
Big News on Mac's blog. I really dig Autechre. They should be excellent curators (in the tradition of Thurson Moore and Jim O' Rourke) I'd never heard them until last summer, and it was one of those "HOLY SHIT I've been missing this?" experiences. I wish I lived in the UK...
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Aces! Peep dg's blog. Very sophisticated & cool. (Wattlisters: yes it's "our" dg, via referral logs).
Seven Songs and a Confession II
Remember, they aren't the greatest ever, just the greatest right now.And yours?
- Big Black: Racer X
- Manu Chao: Mr Bobby
- The Smiths: Ask
- Ali Farka Toure: Bonde
- Marshmallow Coast: Classifieds
- Nappy Roots: Aww Naw
- Black Flag: This is Good
When I was a kid, I was a total poseur. I was completely afraid of projecting the wrong image. I was a little guy--hit puberty late and all that--and I was hyper aware of seeming tough. Napoleon complex, thy name is Mat. The music I listened to reflected this. I liked fast hard stuff--rap, metal, punk and post-punk--not only because I was an Angry Young Man, but also because I wanted to seem like one. I smoked. I drank. I did drugs. I vandalized things. I shoplifted. I was kicked out of school. I fought (and lost). I drove too fast. I staged dived and moshed and did all those Angry Young Things that Angry Young Men did in the 80s. (And I was still too checken shit to really get into it). It was all image. It was posing. It was absolutely idiotic.
But secretly. Secretly. I was a sensitive little guy. I wrote poetry and short stories and songs and my heart bled and bled and bled. I tried to hide that. It was the 80s. It was the South. Give me a little slack. My friend Dave and I used to dick around permanently. We were always in the woods in the afternoon, smoking cigarettes and poking around in the caves in the North Georgia hills behind school. We used to jump out of trees screaming "20 Eyes in My Head" and listen to Sex Pistols bootlegs. Dave listened to the DKs and the Pistols and The PiL. He lived in the Misfit's Skull T-shirt, and had that floppy skater bangs bowl cut like Glenn Danzig that everyone had in the 80s. But he was also into all that Suixse, Cure, Depeche Mode, New Order and, mostly, The Smiths. Stuff that I wanted nothing to do with. It wasn't my "image," whatever that was. Sure, I listened to The Cure, they were grandfathered in. But The Smiths? Hell no. They were entirely too "faggy." They had bare-chested guys on their album covers for crying out loud! And Dave, being more secure in his manhood than I was (being 6-foot-whatever may have helped that), put up with my crap. He was patient and tolerant, while I was just a chowderhead. And he kept on saying, "you should give The Smiths a chance." And I never would. I mean, sure, I'd heard The Smiths, how could you not in the 80s (Jeff?)? But I never gave them a chance. And then, Dave made a tape for me, one side was the Pistols and the other was The Smiths. And I freaking loved it. Loved. I used to listen to it all the time when I was alone, in my room or driving around. And I never would admit it. Never. Because I was too concerned with what people might think. And I missed the hell out. It was my loss. It was my mistake. Now, thanks largely to Harper and her massive collection of Smiths albums, I listen to The Smiths all the time. I realize what a great band they are (though, not the best of the last 50 years, NME). And think about what a numbskull I used to be.
(Dear reader: I like doing the seven songs thing, and want to try and do it every Friday. I think it's an interesting way for me to see where my head is, as well as a good way to hear what other people are listening to. I wound up downloading several of the songs people listed last week. And the confession seems to set it apart from a standard list. But I dunno. Is it to much? Would it be a better regular feature without the confession? I'm going to continue doing the list. But the confession: keep it or lose it?)
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I've got a short piece in the May/June issue of Mother Jones. Page 23.
Excellent! My friend Matthew just launched his new site, The Deputy. Peep it.
I've kinda forgotten the "todays tune" feature. But, this is a good one. Kool Moe Dee doesn't get enough credit.
Rob is in NYC right now. He's staying with another friend of mine from high school & college (and one of his old roomies) Michael Woodruff. Woody taught me how to do hammer-ons when I was in high school. Once when we were on a camping trip, I remember seeing him smoking a cigar, dipping, and chewing tobacco all at the same time. In college, the three of us used to play together. Woody played bass, Rob played drums, and I flailed on the guitar. Anyway, today Woody works in the music business. He used to work for Interscope, and he toured with Warped for them a few summers ago. When Warped came to SF, he hooked me up with free tickets. But now he has his own label called Analysis Records, check it out. And note the Urb mention. Woody = Hardwood EXP.
A mercy killing.
Ever seen a picture of San Francisco's District Attorney? No? Here he is. You've got to love this city. Even if you hate it.
4.18.2002
Harper has a great post today
This is Citigroup
I am attracted to the trouble kids. The cutters. The druggies. The underage beer buyers. Kids that kick ass.
Word
Want to get notified about site updates here? Sure you do. Now you can.
World's Most Clueless Tourists (Thanks Dave!)
Today's News
Bill Simon: Crook.* Local Woman: Skank. Abercrombie & Fitch: Racists.** Big Oil: Losers.***
*And based on his comments yesterday, he's apparently against fairness as well. I mean, who's against fair? Sure, life's not fair. But should you oppose fair? What did fair ever do to you, Bill?
**Hampton Carney indeed. That's the WASPiest name this side of Thurston Howell. That's why you had the problem in the first place, mallrats. What, you don't have a single Asian PR representsative?
***Take that, President Enron.
From Evan
Want to know, literally, how oars became wings? Check out. It's a pretty interesting discussion of how insects may have evolved wings. And I learned that flying insects make up 60 percent of all living species. That's a lot of kinds of flying insects. I think most of them hang out in eastern Tennessee.
Es Verdad
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Ben Brown and Derek Powazek's feud is pretty funny. (watch the Powazek video first)
Plane hits Milan skyscraper
Yahoo! Messenger 2.0 for Mac released
From: Kevin Fox
To: Mat Honan
Hey Mat, This is one of the projects I've been working on over at Yahoo!.
Yahoo! Messenger for Macintosh 2.0 is carbonized, and runs natively in 8.x, 9.x, and OS X. It was just released tonight.
:-)
-Kevin
4.17.2002
Mark Moves has an interesting essay about the Web over on Shift. One point that he mentions, but I think should be called out, is that you are seeing more and more cool stuff originating outside of North America's borders.
Does Ezra actually exist?
BOAC has thought bubbles. Be sure to visit the "old" site. I'm pretty sure--based on the number of BOAC and earthlings stickers and posters in my immediate couple of blocks--that BOAC is one of my neighbors.
Thanks Curt!
Words can't express my gratitude, man. That was incredibly cool.
Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before.
Angst-ridden Mancunian rock quartet The Smiths have beaten off competition from the Beatles and the Rolling Stones to be declared music bible NME's most important rock group of the last 50 years.
Panic on the streets of London, indeed. Dublin, Dundee, Humberside. I wonder to myself....
You know what I think of NME and the British music press in general. (you don't? no? oh. um. it's something like this. sod off, wankers!) But in this case, I've got to say... Maybe. You've got to admit, some of the few pop musicians doing anything vaguely interesting (like radiohead, b&s, some of the e6 bands, etc) are more Smiths than Beatles. More Marr than McCartney. And there's Thom Yorke in "Meeting People is Easy" talking about how incredible he found it that he put out an album that meant as much to people as "The Queen Is Dead." (Or was it Strangeways? I forget.) That was clearly Yorke's Sgt. Peper's. Odd. When I was a kid, I was too cool for The Smiths. They were, in my opinion, too soft. I was an idiot. My friend Dave Kerns kept trying to get me to give them a chance, and I just refused and refused and refused. Called them wankers. Or worse. But secretly, well... More on that Friday.
So is the "award" offbase? Probably. Certainly they are one of the more critically acclaimed bands of the 80s. The music was tops, and totally unexpected (especially given the times). The lyrics were incredibly smart, and not nearly as maudlin as they are often accused of being. Johnny Marr is one of the more influential guitar players, you hear a lot of indie/alt folks playing Marr-sounding songs today. But are they really bigger than the Beatles? No. But before you (or I) get all Ringo on NME, note that the award is for the artists who "have had most influence on NME in the course of our 50 years as a title." Oh. Influence on NME. Right. Well. Nevermind then. I thought it was something important.
(thanks Dave!)
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The Times on The Sun. I could use a copy of yesterday's Sun. Got one? Hook me up, yo.
4.16.2002
Hi Ho
Vote Zoya (in the skull and crossbones sweater)
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Best Moving Sale Ever In The History Of The World (pictures) (Thanks Dave!)
Alright! KBK is back.
Oh wow. It's a new front page for The Minister. I'll be blogging there (some). Go peep it Make suggestions.
Would you survive a nuclear blast? Find out. If you want to. (And if you live in a city, I can save you a little time: no.)
Yeah! Go Condors, Go!
Does sanitizing the president's gaffes from official transcripts alter history?
Extra! Extra! Read-All-About-It!
The New York Sun launches today. I've got an article in there, but the new paper isn't online yet.
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4.15.2002
Bloggers are the minutemen of the digital revolution
Wow. Now I feel all patriotic and shit. Viva la Electronet!
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Destiny-land
One of the funniest writers I know of, and best chroniclers of both Internet and pop culture just started keeping a weblog. Should be good. Crap. Now who's gonna send me all the good links?
[this is good]
Unless you're on the Pile (and have seen Fight Club), you probably won't get this. But if you are (and you have)/////// Word.
"Then One Day Along Comes Eazy"
I've seen the Dead, and Pink Floyd and James Brown. I've seen Jane's Addiction (the real thing, not the lollapalooza show or a reunion tour) and Suicidal Tendencies and Nirvana. I've been to ska shows and skinhead stomps. I've suffered through art rock, math rock, and avant-pop shows. I've listened to people setting things on fire and I've been to underground raves and seen big bands pretend to be little ones just to play at that itsy-bitsy club under an assumed name. I've been to shows with Satanism (remember the 80s!) Buddhism, Daoism, Communism and Christianity. But only once in my life have I ever been to see a revolution. That was in 1989, when I saw NWA touring in support of Straight Outta Compton.
Seeing NWA was like talking to Trotsky. They opened the floodgates of rage that consumed music in the late 80s and early 90s. They were rage against the machine. They were hip-hop's high water mark, before it spilled over into the commercial drek that it is today. Just as their contemporaries The Pixies and Nirvana and Jane's Addiction elevated post-punk to its highest form so that it could be debased by MTV. So too did NWA pave the way for Snoop and Puffy.
NWA was the only band I've ever seen where I was scared. NWA made me feel like Whitey, like The Man (it didn't help that I was one of the lone white kids in the audience), even as it made me want to go out and destroy the instuments of The Man. When I saw Suicidal Tendencies, I was worried about getting roughed up. When I saw NWA, I was worried I might get killed. It remains one of the top three or so shows I've ever seen, and will stand out forever as one of the the great experiences of my life. NWA was a riot. NWA was a revolution.
But the only revolutionaries who accomplish anything are those who are two-thirds guerilla and one-third marketer. This amazing article on the history of NWA shows that the band was just that. Furthermore, it follows hip-hop from New York to LA, and shows the role NWA--particularly Dr. Dre and Eazy--played in taking it from a largely underground form of music and culture to one that has completely dominated the mainstream, and in the process become a corporate behemoth. It's a fascinating read, and if you can't read the whole thing in one sitting, you should download it and come back later. Great stuff. (thanks Dave!)
One of the things I love about San Francisco is that it's a big city masquerading as a country village. If you need the bustle and culture of a large metropolitan area with the peace and quiet of a rural temple, this is the city for you.
In the simplest terms, the fight is over who will catch the last fish.
Ut-oh. And here I thought I was being responsible, eating nothing but Tuna.
Did you know?
..that with Blogger Pro, you can publish just by sending an email? Indeed.
On Death's Trail, a Detective Larger Than Life
4.12.2002
The hamotam has a new song.
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Don't forget, April 15 is taxman day. I hate the taxman.
Did you know the Examiner is redesigning?
Peter has the scoop.
Seven Songs and a Confession
I always talk about what I don't like. I rarely make a stand. So, this morning, I thought I would. I thought i'd list my seven favorite songs. (which are very different from my seven favorite albums) Why seven? Because ten gets all the breaks. These are in no particular order. And they could very well be different in a month.It's funny. Aside from REM and Pavement, I used to listen to "hard" music almost exclusively. Rap, metal, punk, indie rawk. From the age of about 15 to 26 or so I was all about the beat; it had to beat you down. As I've gotten older, and my tastes have matured (particularly in the last three or four years) I've started to really go in for songwriting and studio production. I've also become dramatically dismissive of what is or isn't cool/hip to listen to. Who cares? Those barriers are so arbitrary. Does all this mean I'm becoming an old fart? Sure, you're as young as you feel. But I'm starting to feel older. The other day I found myself downloading several songs from Led Zeppelin III and thinking, "your seventeen year-old self would hate you for this." And I just smiled and hummed along with "Tangerine."
- Neutral Milk Hotel -- King of Carrot Flowers
- minutemen -- History Lesson Part II
- Notwist -- Trashing Days
- John Coltrane -- My Favorite Things
- Eric B & Rakim -- Paid in Full
- Belle & Sebastian -- Expectations
- Halo Benders -- Virginia Reel Around the Fountain
Anyway, as of this morning, those are my seven favorites. What are yours?
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Wanne see the trailer for LOTR2? Here it is. 20MB download.
but it was really random to talk to someone thats lifitng weights and eating salt peter to keep his erections down to nothing -- I bet!
Rob Morse's random tidbits add up to a nice whole today. "Anyone who would equate Ariel Sharon's acts with those of Hitler shouldn't be shutting down classrooms, but sitting in one." Word, Rob.
4.11.2002
Kudos to Gateway
My mystery has been solved. I love the electronet.
ouch
Windows uses, click here for a free OS upgrade. (snicker)
I'm chewing on glass
One of the things I love about FilePile's music pile is that I often find songs there that I wasn't looking for, but love nonetheless. For example, I'm currently listening to "Stigmata," the opening track on The Land of Rape and Honey, and one of my high school anthems. It takes me back to nights of driving around for hours aimlessly, throwing eggs and dreaming of moving to California.
Caribou like oil
Laurell Wellman discovers "clean rugs" (sorry, a Haight Street joke that only San Franciscans will get) and burlesque.
Et Tu Apples?
This is the saddest Web page I've ever seen. I like entirely too many of these, er, artists?, to shun them all. But I can't help but think of what my personal hero (well, one of 'em) Bill Hicks said about artists making an ad.
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What I shall be doing later today
4.10.2002
The Bush administration said today that Saddam Hussein's decision to cut off oil exports for at least a month, or until Israel pulls out of the West Bank, makes it urgent for the Senate to allow drilling for oil in the Alaska wildlife refuge.
A Weblog Nation is one of the better, and more interesting overviews of Weblogging that I've seen. It doesn't take a general article-oriented, approach. Rather it utilizes the Web via hyperlinking and browser windows. Which is completely as it sould be. I don't understand why so much of what's written about the Web, on the Web doesn't use the Web. I'm guilty of it too. But we all need to adventure out more and figure out the best and most interesting ways to use browsers to deliver information. (via MeTa)
They Have Blogs!
Impossibly funny. (and it reminds me of the term "haircut blog" and makes me fear that this has become one. less essays, more link. i promise.)
Let's Roll (TM) (thanks patrick!)
I've been doing odd jobs lately to try and help make ends meet. Paychecks are late, I didn't pitch enough in March (or February), and money is tighter than it's ever been for me before. So I'm trying to make enough money for rent by other means. One of which is by grading Calfornia high school exit exams for ETS. If you're a California high school student, there's a guy with a mohawk between you and a degree. Scary, isn't it?
I'm grading the essay portions of the test and, without violating ETS' non-disclosure agreement, my job is to assign a numerical score to each essay. I don't know what a passing grade is, nor do I particularly want to. What I do know is that the essays are atrocious. Horrifyingly depressing. I've come to discover that a tremendous number of California high school students are completely incapable of stringing together a few simple sentences. Not that this is news to me, really. I mean, I read the papers. I know that there's a war going on over education in this state. But I had no idea the scope and depth of the problem until now.
I wish I had maintained my ignorance.
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There's a great article on the Eels in the LA Times. E's music has definitely been therapy for me at various points in my life.
Screw Pittman. I want to see crazy-ass Ted Turner make a comeback.
Say hello to a new beakdip.
4.9.2002
Some days...
Are just bad for everyone. This seems to me to be one of them.
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I Sing A Song of California
Have you heard 2Mex? No? Probably not, but you should. They've written what I believe to be the ultimate party anthem, and the greatest song to listen to in a car ever recorded, "LA (Like...)." And you see, it's a bit of a problem for me, that song. Because like all good San Franciscans, I love to hate LA. Not just the Dodgers, but the whole city. The whole metro area, in fact. All those blondes in the entertainment industry, the smog, the vacuous plastic lifestyle, the endless suburbs, the water theft, the oxygen bars, the regular bars, the chain stores, the strip malls, the teriyaki-chicken-in-the-form-of-a-burrito joints, the music industry, and cars, cars, cars, cars, cars, cars, cars. Don't even get me started on Orange county...
Like I said, I'm a good San Franciscan. I bike everywhere; I never drive. I'm wearing biking clothes right now, in fact. I voted Nader. Beyond merely recycling, I compost. I stay dutifully outraged. I'm pale and pasty. I'm *almost* a vegetarian. I drink too much coffe, and it's all fair trade, shade grown organic coffee at that. I have a punk rock haircut. I even listen to house music. (House music! HOUSE MUSIC! The things you'll do for civic pride.) And furthermore, manage to occasionally say intelligent things about it. Or, at least things that aren't totally off-base.
So you'll understand how this urge to run out to Harp's car every five minutes, and drive around the block with the windows down, blasting 2Mex is a little disconcerting to me. But the thing is, almost all the good California songs seem to be about LA, or Southern California. Not all of them. But most. To wit, I offer an analysis of the songs of California.
California Dreaming -- The Mamas and The Papas: Southern, definitely. Otherwise, that winter day would just remind them of July in the Haight.
Going Back to Cali -- LL Cool J: Bikini, small. Need I say more? The only time I've ever seen anyone in a bikini in San Francisco was at the Folsom Street Fair, and there was a dildo strapped onto to the front of it. He wasn't who LL had in mind, I'm pretty sure.
I Love LA -- Randy Newman: Um. This song is about LA.
Are You Going to San Francisco -- Scott McKenzie: Word of advice, if you show up here with flowers in your hair, I'm gonna beat them out with my fists. I've got your gentle people right here asshole...
California -- Rufus Wainwright: Okay, so, I'm pretty sure this is supposed to represent the whole state. "Up north freezing?" He definitely made a stop here. Like all the songs that refer to the North, it's more depressing than anthemic.
California Girls -- The Beach Boys/ Diamond David Lee Roth: Skeebazzle boozle bop-biddy bop-bop. Yeah! Bring me two teenage stewardesses, a litre of Jack Daniel's, a watermelon, three cases of Jolly Ranchers, and a porcupine. Stat!
LA Woman -- The Doors/ Billy Idol: Great song. Of course it's about Los Angeles.
California Stars -- Woodie Guthrie - Billy Bragg/Wilco: Hey! You can't see any stars in Southern California! There'a only smog! This song is about us! Hoo-ray! Score one for us! (or, um, maybe the central valley).
It Never Rains in Southern California -- Tone Tony Toni (or, whatever): It rains like six months out of the year in Northern California.
Estimated Prophet -- Grateful Dead/ Burning Spear: I was listening to the Burning Spear version of this recently as I was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Knowing that the Dead are all NoCal boys, and judging by the spiritual/LSD-induced nature of the lyrics, I'm also gonna shoot for SF. I actually love this song (shhhhhh! don't tell anyone). Preaching on the burning shore. That's me. You know I'm a certified preacher man, right? But still. The song really celebrates California as a whole, rather than the Bay Area. Pisser.
I Left My Heart In San Francisco -- Tony Bennett: Hey, it's not my bag, but once he gets past all that jibber jabber in the front of the song and cuts to the city by the bay stuff it's alright.
Some song about California by Pink: Who cares.
San Francisco Days, and San Francisco Nights -- Chris Isaak: This is a great SF song. A perfect SF song, in fact. Too bad nobody knows it.
Coming into Los Angeles -- Arlo Guthrie: I had no idea that Arlo was hooked up with the CIA before I heard this song.
California -- Weezer This is such a great song. I love this song. It's just so cute and heavy all at once. Unfortunately, I can't make out a damn word they say. Except in one part, where they say "Santa Monica" over and over again. Damn.
California Love -- Dre, Tupac, etc: Yeah! Dre and Tupac save the day with an anthem the entire state can rally around. But give me that bomb beat from Dre, let me serenade the streets of L.A. From Oakland to Sacktown, the Bay Area and back down. Cali is where they put they mack down. Gimme love!
So. To sum up: Northern California needs more anthems. Songwriters, please give us more anthems. We need anthems.
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1906 - 2002 Factory closings are always sad, but this is particularly bad.
There was a good article in the Times on Google yesterday.
4.8.2002
Whither PPP?
Ever since the days when I had to listen to craptacular realplayer channels, I've loved listening to Internet radio. It's a tremendous resource for finding new artists, and a refreshing break from the hobgoblin-run airwaves. I love finding new, small broadcasters and itty-bitty playlists. But today, it's in real danger. And I keep on thinking the Web was better when you had to configure all kinds of settings on your PC in order to access it.
Great This Modern World
I know you think it's bad, but it's not. It's good.
Hyakugojyuuichi: the midterm exam (thanks Dave!)
Have you seen my friends jeffe and jezra?
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Rats chewed on a dozen bodies in a makeshift storage unit behind the coroner's office, officials said Monday.
I love LA.
4.5.2002
Kick ass. I wish I had coworkers...
Well, looks like the Examiner is going under. Hello, one newspaper town.
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Did you know that using a cork--rather than plastic or rubber--stopper in a bottle of wine is good for the environment? Me either. I would have assumed we were deforesting cork, um, forests somewhere. Not so:
"The Montado -- the region where the Iberian peninsula's cork forests are found -- is among the very few places where cork oak grows. What's more, though, those plantations are one of the most perfect examples of sustainable and wildlife-friendly farming in the world. If a significant number of vintners switch to plastic, the commodity price of cork could plunge, and these farmers could be put out of business. And if the cork oak forests fall into disuse, they will surely be cut down in favor of fast-growing, less sustainable wood harvesting projects like pine or eucalyptus, or for holiday condos and amusement parks. That would mean loss of habitat for rare birds like the imperial eagle and mammals like the Iberian lynx, and would be the final nail in the coffin of some of the last rural communities in Europe that survive through sustainable farming practices. ."
The thing is, I've always wanted a hawk. Mo, that is. Ever since I was a kid. A young kid. Even way back when in elementary school, before I knew what punk was, before I understood anything about it. You know, when I thought Billy Idol was punk. Even then. And now, now I don't really associate it with punk. Because to me, punk is not even remotely about fashion. It's anti-fashion. It certainly isn't the MTV cap like Blink 182 or Sum, er... 12? 25? 963? I forget.
Punk's in your head. "Punk is whatever we made it to be." Punk is nondescript clothes and a nondescript haircut, as long as you do it yourself. It's inside your head. It's a manefesto. An outlook. A refusal. A refusal to be controlled by anything or anyone--be it government, corporation, substance, habit or thought. Punk is Ian Mackaye and Bob Mould, not Johnny Rotten and certainly not (um, I don't know any of the guys in Blink 182's names. Travis? Is that one? Whatever. He'll do. It isn't Travis). Punk is an ideology, not a look. I feel strongly about that. I want to live in a certain way. Which has nothing to do with how I dress. I'm not going to a costume party. I'm not playing dress up.
Having said that, I'm pretty psyched about the hawk. I mean, it's a freaking mohawk. A mohawk! It sort of says "fuck you" without saying anything at all. Except. Not really. Not here. Having a Mohawk when you live in the Haight is decidedly anti-climactic. I'd get more attention and appalled stares wearing Brooks Brothers. Really. And that's sort of a pisser.
But not really.
"Fugazi Fugazi!"
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Yay!!!! Wait. No. Boo!!!! Wait. No. Um. Somedays, I don't know how to feel about the march of progress.
Yeah, well, I'm still pissed off. You would be too if you paid what I do in rent.
4.4.2002
$717 million to extend BART from Fremont to Warm Springs, and from Warm Springs station to downtown San Jose and the San Jose International Airport Ace!
Woman accused of trying baby-for-dog trade and only an hour from the joint where Tim grew up! (thanks Tim)
For a good time call
212-479-7990
What's my name, foo?
Funny, I used to be Mat Honan. But somewhere along the way I became Mathew. Being Mat Honan has its advantages. But altogether, for some reason, I prefer both syllables.
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File Piler El Rey has a solo art show at 66 Balmy today through Monday. Go peep it. I am.
My projected life span is 92 years old. with some modification, it'll go up to 98. What about you?
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I'm just a boy with a new haircut:
(and it's a pretty nice haircut)
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Hey! I bought a couch and a chair from him! What a great store, what a shame.
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4.3.2002
When we went to the beach yesterday, these things were all over the place. I think that they might be some sort of mussel. They're rubbery to the touch. But I'm utterly clueless as to what, exactly, they are. Anyone know?
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I took the same quiz Rob did, and I actually did pretty well. I got the majority of the questions right. But I was still demed "not geeky enough." Too bad my knowledge of current artists isn't up to snuff ( I flunked questions on Jay-Z, Britney, The Bac