Stumbling the Walk

Julia's Big Mention!

2009-07-14T09:43:00.002-06:00

Congrats to our friends at Betty's Divine on winning 3 categories in the Independent's 2009 Best of Missoula issue! What's cool is Julia gets a mention in the little blurb that accompanies it!

Fashion and Beauty

Best Boutique
Best Men’s Clothing
Best Women’s Clothing: Betty’s Divine

According to the Indy’s readers, Betty’s Divine has solved the problem of shopping as a couple, serving the fashion savvy of both sexes. The lady wants a stylish, locally made bag from Donkeygirl to go with her Free People top? Betty’s has it. The dude’s neglected his laundry too long and needs some choice UZI tees ASAP? Betty’s has it. Forget traipsing from store to store catering to individual tastes. Betty’s is Missoula’s one-stop choice for clothing, and takes both categories for the second year in a row.

We're Heading Out to the Highway, We Got Nothin' to Lose at All

2009-07-09T12:42:00.004-06:00

Haven't talked much lately about goings-on in LAZERWOLFS land, mainly because we've been busy with other things. This afternoon, though, we are loading up the gear and heading out for a couple shows; one in Fargo, ND and the other in Morris, MN. Should be fun! This is a bit farther than we would normally choose for a weekend run (driving home Sunday in one shot will be brutal), but at least we are getting paid enough to about make it a wash. That's always a bonus. I've had a major chip on my shoulder lately concerning Rock; hopefully this will be a good opportunity to sweat some of that off.

Ah, gee, Saph. Any elemental freak with metamorphic powers and a crush on you woulda done the same!

2009-07-08T16:34:00.005-06:00

Today saw the launch of a new project from DC COMICS that has been buzzing for a few months now. It is called WEDNESDAY COMICS, and it will be appearing every Wednesday (that being the day that new comics are released every week, just like music and videos are released on Tuesdays) for the next 12 weeks. Here's a simple description from their own press release:

WEDNESDAY COMICS is unique in modern comics history: Reinventing the classic weekly newspaper comics section, it is a 16-page weekly that unfolds to a sprawling 28" x 20" tabloid-sized reading experience bursting with mind-blowing color, action and excitement, with each feature on its own 14" x 20" page.

I was eager to pick it up and check it out. My thoughts? In a word: AWESOME!

What you get for your $3.99 are 15 separate strips, each getting a page of their own, written and drawn by some of the best names in comics today (dig the list here). We're talking Batman, Superman, Kamandi -- The Last Boy on Earth (a Jack Kirby creation), Metamorpho . . . the list goes on. The stories are pulpy and fun, and they all end on a cliffhanger. It's just great stuff! Hell, I like how comics have gotten darker and more adult, but it is also a blast to hearken back to something a little more innocent and fun. Kudos to DC for going out on this limb the way they are. I hope it succeeds stupendously. Given a lot of the coverage in many places, the buzz so far is high. It's even getting a run in USA Today. It is well deserved.

One thing I love is how the comics look on this newsprint. Fantastic. Go to your local comic shop and pick it up, while supplies last!

Turok Land

Sid is back making movies again. What a dork. But this kills me. The scene where the "monster" is shown retreating into his lair literally almost had me fall off my chair laughing so hard. For the uninitiated, while originally a comic book, Turok is now most recognized as a first person shooter video game where you blast dinosaurs and stuff.

Finally, I wish I'd seen this on the 4th. This kills me too. God, I love a lot of stupid shit!

Drums, Beasts, and Crime Scenes

2009-07-08T10:45:00.024-06:00

111th Annual Arlee Celebration

Last weekend for the 4th of July, at the last minute Julia and I changed our original plans and decided to head up to Arlee for the Powwow instead, with plans to just find a place to camp somewhere in the Mission Valley. We left late afternoon/early evening and headed straight for Arlee. We got there some time after 5:00; the road construction on 93 sucks! We went through the front gate and asked the attendant there -- after assuring him we had no weapons, drugs, alcohol or fireworks -- where we had to register if we wanted to camp there. "You don't hafta register," he said. "Just find a spot and camp wherever you want." So that's what we did. I loved the fact that there was no bureaucratic bullshit involved in staking out a spot to sleep. Huzzahs for rural America!

We watched a little basketball, a lot of dancing, crowds of people, browsed through the vendors, ate some fry bread . . . it was a gas.

I even shot a short video of part of the 7:00 PM Grand Entry, which I uploaded to YouTube:

Julia was marveling at the clothes and costumes, of course -- particularly the beadwork. The artistic level to create these costumes is high. And then she pointed out one image that made me cringe -- the Nike Swoosh embroidered into this young woman's costume.

This was troubling to me. As much as I enjoyed the experience, I have a lot of mixed feelings whenever I visit the rez. I lived there for 5 or 6 years, and those mixed feelings have only grown. I'm kind of kicking them around in my brain as something to write more of an essay about. Suffice to say I totally understand what moved those young radicals to start AIM back in the 70s. I think we need a little more of that.

We did camp out right in the middle of a big field with other tents and teepees all around. It was great falling asleep to drumming, watching the sky, and feeling a cool breeze. And no mosquitos (which are thick in Missoula this year)!

The Bison Range

We got up in the morning and headed north to cruise through the Bison Range before it got too hot out. I try to go at least once or twice a year -- it is one of my favorite spots on the planet.

Here are a couple looks at the Flathead River Valley from the top of Red Sleep Mountain.

It wasn't long before we got into some bison.

Lots of pronghorn too.

Got a picture of a cow elk. We also saw a big bull on our way up Red Sleep, but he was moving into the trees so I didn't get a picture of him.

This grasshopper hopped on board for a while as well.

We also saw plenty of deer and lots of birds too. No bighorn sheep, bears or rattlesnakes, though, all of which I've seen various times over the years. I love going there. I'll be back for sure in the fall, when the bulls will be bugling.

McDonald Lake

I wanted to stop by McDonald Lake in the Missions for a little recon, as I just wrote a scene in a chapter I am working on in my novel workshop that takes place there. I've been there several times. It's a beautiful spot, and if you drive up beyond it there is great hiking too. In my story a couple assholes get gunned down here too!

We wrapped things up with a stop at Lynn's 2 drive-in in St. Ignatius (Lynn's 1 being in Ronan, of course) for milkshakes. I had a pizza burger too.

It was great to get away, even if for less than 24 hours. Whenever I get away like this, then come home to chores and responsibilities and all that bullshit, I am reminded of this quote:

"I like it here fine. Maybe that's part of it. I just didn't want to come back and fall into the same old way of living a life that I know has got to change. Maybe it was a taste of freedom." -- John Francis from Planet Walker

It was a good weekend.

406 Writing, Freaks, Angels, Death . . . and Nudity!

2009-06-26T15:44:00.012-06:00

It was a little bittersweet last Monday evening, as the first writing workshop I've ever done -- a course on short fiction writing through The 406 Writers Workshop -- wrapped up. It was 6 weeks, and I have to say it was one of the best creative endeavors I've ever undertaken. I went into it a little nervous, a little skeptical, and probably with a little bit of an attitude . . . but it was fantastic. The people were great, I learned a ton, and I feel like it threw a big switch in my brain both as a creative person and as a person who just loves books and writing. The discussions we had were probably even more valuable then the act of sitting down and writing, though that was important too.

We each were responsible for two pieces over the course of the six weeks. My first one was the first chapter of what I intend to put online in serial format -- I hope to have that functioning by the end of the summer. It is kind of a pulp-styled quasi-superhero story (surprise, surprise). I chose that idea because I wanted something that I felt I could hit the ground running on, because I don't really consider myself a fiction writer -- mainly because I haven't done it in an age.

My second piece was better, I think. It was more straight ahead fiction, but still with elements of mysticism and myth. I'm going to rework it a bit and might even submit it a couple places. Either way I'll post it when I'm happy (enough) with it. It was a great experience.

I'm pleased because I won't be missing a beat, as the novel workshop starts on Monday. It is being taught by Michael FitzGerald, who was also in the workshop just completed. He's a good guy; I'm looking forward to this session as well. After that is another short fiction workshop at the end of July, then a nonfiction one in August. I'm going to try and keep taking them until they get sick of me!

FreakAngels

I'm a big fan of Warren Ellis. His book Crooked Little Vein, while not the greatest thing he's ever written, lit some lamps in my brain for things I think I could do with my own writing. He is writing an online comic called FreakAngels, with artist Paul Duffield. It is being published online for free, in weekly 6-page installments. In addition, it is being collected an published in graphic novel form, with the first two installments available for purchase. It's kind of a post-apocalyptic thing, set in England, featuring a group of people with some very special powers.

So far there are 60 episodes, and I like the story. What I like best is the model. I have read about other writers who release their writings for free as electronic downloads or books, and the testimonials indicate that, rather than hurt their hard copy sales, it has actually improved them. I find that fascinating. I have big plans for my own serial project to kind of experiment with this idea as well. I think this could be a look at the future, or one future anyway, of books and publishing. I know I will probably spring for the hard copies of this story as well, so Warren (and the folks at Avatar Press) have definitely hooked me. I might even spring for a t-shirt or book bag.

I've been reading a ton of comics lately. What I love best about them is the mechanics of telling a good story. You only have so much space, and so many images, to get the job done. That takes some skill to pull off. I am definitely a fan of "less is more" so I pay close attention to what I think works and doesn't. To be able to tell a compelling story in that format takes real skill. Scoff all you want, oh ye who think comics are dumb. Soon as you can turn off your fucking TV, we'll talk.

Celebrity Death

I'm mentioning Farrah first because I think her death bums me out more than MJ's. Not that I'm that bummed, necessarily. Yeah, it sucks when people die before their time, and it sucks that she suffered for so long with cancer, and it sucks for the family . . . but it's not like she was a part of my life or anything. Still, I'm glad at least that her suffering is over. What a horrible way to go.

I remember when she hit it big. Everyone, I mean everyone, seemed to have, or want to have, her famous poster. It was either Farrah, or the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders.

I was more into Jacqueline Smith from the Charlie's Angels cast, myself. And for cheescake, neither one of them could hold a candle in my book to Lynda Carter!

I didn't have the Farrah poster on my wall. I had one of Morgan Fairchild instead. I think I won it at the fair throwing darts at balloons, come to think of it. This is the one I had; it cracks me up to remember that thing hanging on my closet door among all the KISS and IRON MAIDEN pictures.

Michael Jackson

The uproar over this guy's death really, really surprises me. Yeah, he was an artistic genius, yes it is tragic that he has died so young, and yes his life has always been something of a tragedy (train wreck?) despite his huge success. But tragedy (train wreck?) or not, he was also a guy who basically bought his way out of a couple bigtime convictions over being, allegedly, a freakin' pedophile. All these people getting weepy over his death seem to want to re-write history about the guy. I mean, if one of the people who have meant a lot to me since I was young -- say, Paul Stanley from KISS, or Steve Harris or Bruce Dickinson from Iron Maiden -- were suddenly charged with that kind of thing, with plenty of evidence to back it up, I think they would fall rapidly from those lofty heights. And believe me, those guys have all been a biiiiiig part of sections of my life that I have really loved. I'm curious how one reconciles that kind of thing. I mean, OJ Simpson wasn't convicted of his high profile crime either, yet that hasn't stopped anyone from throwing him under the bus (and rightfully so). Two weeks ago Michael Jackson was little more than the butt of a bunch of vile jokes, and most would have likely called him a has been. In death he has reclaimed his "King of Pop" title, though. That is just really weird to me. I'm sorry you died young, man, but if you were a pedophile or some other kind of freak whose money saved you from having to be held accountable, then I hope somewhere you are being held accountable now.

When I think of Michael Jackson, honestly I don't even think of his music. I think of the video to the song "Thriller." And I don't think about the zombies or the dancing (which has been awesomely recreated by a dance group during the Dia de los Muertos parade in Missoula the last couple years), I think of Ola Ray. Ola Ray is the girl who was Michael's date in that video.

Ola Ray was Playboy "Playmate of the Month" for June of 1980. This is significant because that issue was first "girlie" magazine I ever acquired on my own. I was in 7th or 8th grade, I guess. I don't remember if I bought it, or if I stole it. I know I had it stashed in my closet, and then after cleaning out the closet my dad went through what I was throwing away and found it. I think I told him it wasn't mine, that a friend had given it to me. It remains to this day one of the most embarassing episodes of my life.

What is also significant about this issue is that it is the "Playmate of the Year" issue featuring Dorothy Stratten, who is a tragic story as well. A couple months after this issue came out she was murdered by her estranged husband, Paul Snider. A couple films were made about the story; the one you are most likely to have seen was Star 80.

And I know you perverts want to see Ola's centerfold shot. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Sometimes Miracles Do Happen

2009-06-21T19:21:00.004-06:00

I hope you didn't miss The Big News that came out this past Wednesday. The world will absolutely be a better place because of it.

I've been lame about updating this thing lately. I was out of town all last week and feeling under the weather, so when I wasn't working I was pretty much vegetating. I was counting on band practice not happening tonight to get all caught up, but it looks like <gasp!> practice is actually going to happen after all.

So as a stopgap, since I exerted a ton of brain power thinking this up, I am going to post a list of books that I've loved over the years, per the email to The 406 Writers' Workshop I've been attending (and really digging -- one of the best creative things I've ever been part of) over the last 7 weeks.

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From: Chris La Tray Subject: Re: Favorite Books To: "Mike Emmons", "Lydia Brown", "C. Tran", "Michael A. FitzGerald", "Brian Buckbee", "joy morris" Date: Wednesday, June 10, 2009, 12:02 PM

This was actually very hard, because I really haven't read much fiction over the last 10 years or so. So my list is a combination of stuff I have read in the last couple years, plus some of what I consider "classics" based on my own experience.

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole (hilarious, charming, and a post-suicide Pulitzer winner)

A Good Man is Hard to Find and Other Stories by Flannery O'Connor (great, dark stories with not-necessarily happy endings)

The Terror by Dan Simmons (just read this last year and loved it; a combination of historical fiction and horror, it is about the ill-fated expedition to the arctic led by Sir John Franklin that no one really knows for sure what happened -- 2 ships full of men in 1845 set out and are basically never heard from again. Simmons takes the idea and knocks it out of the park, weaving what is known with stuff he made up. I really loved it)

Walden by Henry David Thoreau (not a novel, but one of my all time favorite books. Thoreau's language can be pretty dense, but the thoughts he puts down on the page bring me back time and again)

The Falcon by John Tanner (this is Tanner's autobiography of his time living as an adopted Ojibwa in the early 1800s; the portrait of the life he paints is both beautiful and just brutally harsh)

The Call of the Wild by Jack London (it's been an age since I read this, but as a kid I loved it; I've been meaning to revisit Jack London and have The Sea Wolf in my current queue)

The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian by Robert E. Howard (I was torn between listing this and The Lord of the Rings; I chose Conan/REH because he probably was a bigger influence; let's just say I'd rather trod the earth beneath my sandalled feet than sit in a tree all elf-like wanking on a harp. Anyway, I think REH was brilliant, and it is tragedy that he committed suicide at the age of 30 because who knows how great he'd have become. This is a newish edition, collected to celebrate his 75 year anniversary -- it collects not only his Conan stories in the order he published them in the great pulp magazines of the early 30s, but also shows early drafts, letters between he and his contemporary, H.P. Lovecraft, etc. Many other authors have written Conan as part of the estate's license, or written stories to fill in the time spaces between stories, but none of them touch Howard's writing. His is dark, creepy, and just electric. I will be reading and re-reading Howard's work for the rest of my life; I don't know how many other writers I can say that about)

Dune by Frank Herbert (a classic of science fiction that I think everyone should read. Magnificent.)

On the Black Hill by Bruce Chatwin. He's probably better known for his nonfiction, travel-type stuff (On Patagonia is awesome) but I really loved this book. I wonder what I would think if I read it now, but at the time it had a pretty strong impact on me.

I chose two graphic novels for my list as well.

Watchmen by Alan Moore (yeah it has been hyped because of the movie that just came out, but the book is so far beyond the movie that it needs to be read. Moore touches on so many levels here -- emotional, political, societal -- that anyone who smugly dismisses it as "just a comic book" should have their head examined)

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller (if I had to recommend one or the other, as good as Watchmen is I think this one is better. It is set in the future, Batman has disappeared and Superman has become an agent of the state. Society has crumbled, and an aged Bruce Wayne comes out of retirement to make a few changes. This book is dark and just flatout awesome. Miller raised the bar for graphic storytelling with this one, and its effects have been felt ever since. If words like "Batman" and "Superman" make you chuckle, then you really need to check this out -- this is great stuff)

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Sid gave me a great Father's Day gift. Double vinyl picture disc. You know you're jealous.

Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death Metal

2009-06-12T14:50:00.014-06:00

On August 31st, 2007 we played with a band from Athens, OH, called SKELETONWITCH. They had just been signed to Prosthetic Records at the time, and their first record, Beyond the Permafrost, had not come out yet; I believe it came out something like the following October.

(note: the artwork for that record was done by one John Baizley. Why does that matter? Well, John happens to sing and play guitar for the band BARONESS, who are coming to Missoula in July opening for the magnificent CLUTCH.)

Since then, these guys have literally been on the road virtually non-stop, except for about a month or so. They've crisscrossed the USA on various tours, been to Europe . . . just all over. They play an extremely fast, heavy form of metal usually outside my comfort zone; basically death metal. But they do it very well, and they are just great, great guys. It is one of those situations where one would easily make assumptions about the band members based on the imagery, but the reality is I don't think I've spent time hanging out with a more enjoyable group of guys from any band we've played with.

Sid told me they were coming back to Missoula to play The Palace. Rather than get the 'wolfs on board, though, I was able to get HELLIANA on the bill. I would have liked to do the show, but this was the first opportunity for Sid to have his band open for a band he really loves, and that is a Big Deal. He was pretty ecstatic. Last night is when it all went down, Sid & Co. went on first.

I hadn't seen these guys play since . . . man, I don't remember. But they flat brought the rock, and people really seemed to dig them. It is very gratifying to see them get better and better. I know they have some little internal gripes now and again, but that always happens when you are idle for a while. They impressed a lot of people with their energy and their material. I was quite pleased.

UNDUN, a local metal band that has been around a while but I had never seen before, were up next. I have to confess that I really didn't catch their show, even though I was in the room. I was too busy catching up with the Skeletonwitch guys, telling road stories, talking about our formative years as rockers, etc. They thought Helliana were awesome, and thought it was cool that they got to open given that Sid is such a big fan. That led us to tell stories about our own experiences playing with bands we love, most of which have turned out positive. That is a great thing about this underground scene, is there is an instant comraderie based on shared experiences, venue comparisons in different cities, etc. I enjoy the hell out of that.

Undun did a skateboard giveaway, which I thought was pretty cool. Everyone who paid to get in got a raffle ticket, then they drew a number out of a cup before the 'witch went on.

I've never met this girl before, but while she was clearly in the Undun "crew" she was equally enthusiastic and appreciative of all the bands. I like to see that. So many are standoff-ish in these types of events, so I like it when I see people giving credit where credit is due.

Skeletonwitch went on next, and they flat ripped . . . it . . . up. I planted myself at the front of the stage and did not budge, and that was a blast. A good metal show is so cathartic -- it is very primal in the energy and the physical nature of people just hurling themselves against you. I loved it. It helps when you know a band's material and they are ripping the roof off the place too. It was just a blast. I didn't get many pictures because it was too wild, but here are a couple. What a great band!

After it was over, Sid and some of his friends wanted to do a group photo with the band. They were happy to oblige.

It was a great night, and while I only got a little sleep I still feel kind of renewed today. I was happy that the Skeletonwitch guys were so cool to Sid and his band, and even imparted some words of wisdom that, while no different than things I've told them, still carry more weight from someone unknown to them. It restored my faith that rock isn't just a total bullshit scene, even though so often it seems to be.

When we were driving home, Sid commented, "Man, I don't even see how anyone can get as good as a band like Skeletonwitch is." I said, "Well, for one thing they did over 200 shows last year alone. Think of how good you got after just 6 or 7 in a row playing with Lazerwolfs last summer!" He definitely understood.

Julia and I talk about that quite a bit. It is the time one puts in that makes one great. Yeah, some people are just full of natural talent, which helps, but they still have to work at it. It usually doesn't take that long to get competent at the mechanics of something, whether it is playing an instrument, wielding a paint brush, whatever. It is the hours you put in doing it over and over again where you get good, get creative, etc. Even that is no guarantee of traditional "success", but it sure doesn't hurt. It's pretty simple, but it never hurts me to remind myself of that.

Skeletonwitch are headed to Seattle, where they are going to spend the next three weeks recording their new album with the mighty Jack Endino at the helm. I can't wait to hear it when it's wrapped up! I hope they get huge and filthy stinkin' rich.

Nuggets? Any herb!

2009-06-09T11:27:00.017-06:00

Last weekend was stuffed with more music than I really imagined it would be. It started out Saturday with a LAZERWOLFS trip to Great Falls. We get up there once or twice a year, and it always seems to be in the middle of a stretch of really shitty weather when it should be nice out. We rolled out of town around 6 PM or so and hit the venue around 8:30, I guess.

We thought there would be two other bands, but anticipated there might be only 1 besides us on account of the other band from Missoula -- Sid's band HELLIANA -- couldn't make the trip. Turns out there weren't any locals on the bill either, so it was just us. Which made it interesting, as we had not played a full night in several years. Not only that, but we'd only had one practice since we'd devoted our lives to the Judas Priest thing, so even our own material was rusty. So, first things first, we set up our gear.

That's where the magic happens. Unless it's Missoula, where we can't seem to buy a show. Got snubbed by the Total Fest folks again this year, so I'm feeling pretty bitter about our home friggin' town. The Total Fest thing could be, in fact, the nail in the coffin as far as I'm concerned. I've really been on the fence about continuing beyond the shows we have booked. Scheduling makes it tough to do much, and the simple reality that after 10 years as a band, 3+ applications, and we STILL can't get on a local festival like this, makes me realize that our home town -- the place one would assume would be the best place for us -- really couldn't give two shits about us. But this GF show may have put a little gas back in the tank, I don't know. We'll see.

Anyway, we walked across the street to a Mexican restaurant that Jimmy chose based on it being "the worst Mexican food I've ever had." I don't remember the name of the joint, but I do remember that they billed themselves as "home of the puffy taco." That sounds kinda dirty, if you ask me. It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either. At least none of us got sick.

While there we put a list together of songs we thought we could play -- there was literally material on there we hadn't played in 2 or 3 years. We divided it into two long sets, walked back over to the venue and let it rip.

It was pretty fun, actually. There weren't a lot of people there, but it was a good time. We were just kind of in our own little zone, almost like circling the wagons, but we nailed it. I felt good about the band and what we can do because we've been playing together so long. I was happy I was able to sing all night and not lose my voice.

We drove all night to get home; when we left Great Falls it was raining hard, which turned to snow about halfway up Rogers Pass, and finally damn near a whiteout for a stretch. Once we started down the other side, it was fine. We just ate sunflower seeds and listened to more loud rock to get home alive. By the time we got back to the rock office and unloaded the gear, then I ran Bubba home to Frenchtown, then back to my house and unloaded MY gear, it was about 6:30 AM. A long night, but it felt like an accomplishment.

Love Your Mother Earth Festival

Julia had scheduled to help out with a bellydance workshop at this festival at Lolo Hot Springs, then participate in a performance. I went along to play the doumbek. When we got there, of course it was utter chaos with no one knowing what was going on, but eventually we got it sorted out. Who knew that loving your Mother Earth meant beer cans all over the ground, plastic water bottles, and pizza boxes? I think their heart is in the right place, so I'm not going to gripe just because probably 70% of the crowd are probably the same idiots you find staggering around puking downtown whenever some remotely enebriating event is taking place.

It was cold, but I had a great time. We met two wonderful people from Utah, Cara and Wade.

They are travelers (6 months in Turkey, for example) and musicians. They had a bunch of Middle Eastern musical instruments, and we played music with them for a couple hours. I played with them for a dance that Geneva did, then also for a big group dance at the end of the performance. It was one of the most thrilling musical things I've ever done. It felt great to be part of something like this. Meet a couple people, and 2 hours later be on stage performing with them. It was fantastic. I really admire these two people for living a life that I hope to pursue, in some fashion, before I call it a life.

Here are a few more pictures; I hope someone hooks me up of pictures with the live music and dancing! My friend Charles was there, but he wandered off to photograph some annoying jam band he's probably seen 100 times already rather than stick around for the good stuff. His loss! I guarantee he will have fantastic shots from the entire event, just not this part. I'll make sure and update this blog when those are online, because it really did seem to be a cool event. For now, the best I can do with documentation of our own little red-headed stepchild part of the goings-on is via my own (crushingly) amateur photography.

You know what I love best about Julia's performing? Her facial expressions. She really looks like she is having fun when she does it. I like that. I know this particular craft takes a lot of concentration, but I think facial expression is as critical as the hand and body movements. My girl has it going on, and I'm proud when I watch her.

Geneva's enthusiasm really helped. She recruited Cara and Wade to play music for one of her dances, and got me on board on the drum. We worked out a piece that we played that didn't go quite as planned but still came off pretty cool. Then it was her idea to have us play another song while she brought all the dancers on stage for one big piece. That was great. Like Julia says, Geneva is totally a "yes" person; no idea is too risky. I like that. That's how I want to be.

We'll definitely do something again next year, only this time we will plan ahead a little bit; camp out, play some music for lovely women to dance to around the camp fire, oh yeah. Hopefully in the next couple years we can join Cara and Wade as part of a traveling troupe across Central Asia! Now that is what I'm talking about. . . .

Would You Like to See My "Laser"

2009-06-05T12:17:00.006-06:00

Saw this article earlier this week linked from David Sirota's new pop culture page, Nerdivore. Here's a slice from the original article:

A US weapons lab on Friday pulled back the curtain on a super laser with the power to burn as hot as a star.

The National Ignition Facility's main purpose is to serve as a tool for gauging the reliability and safety of the US nuclear weapons arsenal but scientists say it could deliver breakthroughs in safe fusion power.

"We have invented the world's largest laser system," actor-turned-governor Arnold Schwarzenegger said during a dedication ceremony attended by thousands including state and national officials.

"We can create the stars right here on earth. And I can see already my friends in Hollywood being very upset that their stuff that they show on the big screen is obsolete. We have the real stuff right here."

NIF is touted as the world's highest-energy laser system. It is located inside the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory about an hour's drive from San Francisco.

Equipment connected to a house-sized sphere can focus 192 laser beams on a small point, generating temperatures and pressures that exist at cores of stars or giant planets.

I can say that I worked on this project, though so far removed from the actual purpose that it doesn't count. These guys were using an ERP system that had contracted my employer to provide a barcode interface to their basic software. When LLNL (Lawrence Livermore National Labs) decided they wanted to barcode all of the materials that come into their warehouse for tracking purposes, we went on site to evaluate their needs and make some recommendations -- software, hardware, etc. This was actually several years ago, and was one of the first projects I was involved with. I traveled out to Livermore with Chris, the president of the company I work for.

First we had to undergo a security clearance check. There were forms to fill out and send in, etc. before they would even allow us on site. Once we got to Livermore, we had to meet our contact there just to get through the gates. This was some James Bond type stuff, because the guards at the gate were heavily armed, and one would position himself off to the side of the car with his hand on his weapon while the other would check the IDs of everyone in the car, all the while keeping his hand on his weapon as well.

That's where the Bond-level coolness ends, for the most part. You would expect that such a high tech installation would look high tech, but it didn't. The main campus was a hodge podge of temporary buildings, like portable classrooms or trailers, not unlike this:

I think the maze of roads and dead ends was enough of a deterrent for criminals bent on espionage -- who the hell would know how to find anything important? We asked why it was like this, and our guide told us that it "takes an act of Congress" to allocate funds to budget constructing an actual building, but as the installation grew they were allowed to throw up the temporary structures as needed -- and they had obviously done so, all higgeldy piggeldy. That's your government in top form, ladies and gentlemen!

We were shown through a couple warehouses, talked to some people, then went back to a conference room to sit down with a bunch of managers and their IT guy (the security level on the IT side was ridiculous in the way the IP traffic was handled; well beyond my understanding of this stuff, with "green zones" and "red zones" and all this mumbo jumbo keeping addresses segmented away from certain security levels; what a nightmare it would be as an admin for that stuff).

We didn't get to see the actual inside of where they were doing all their laser development -- at the time they had 1 of the 192 lasers operational -- but we drove by it. It just looked like a sports arena, not unlike the field house here in Missoula.

We got to hear the whole story of the project during our meeting. The main project manager was one of the people in the meeting, and he seemed like just a normal guy, clearly in love with the challenge -- which was touted as a Department of Energy project to explore nuclear fusion as a potential source of energy for powering the national grid.

The word "laser" kept coming up, and I kinda smirked as I was taking notes. My boss said, "What are you laughing at?" because I'm sure he knew what I was thinking. So all these guys are looking at me, and I said, "Did any of you guys ever see Austin Powers? Every time you mention the 'laser' I think of that movie." They thought that was pretty hilarious. So from that point forward, every time anyone mentioned the "laser" they held their fingers up to make the double-quotes sign. It was amusing. Stupid, but amusing.

Anyway, that's my story about the LLNL project. I think they have since changed ERP software, I don't know. They bought all the tools from us that would enable them to do all their customizations and stuff themselves anyway -- I know I haven't talked to them in at least a couple years. But it was fun. And my first opportunity to see the Bay Area as well -- we spent an evening in San Francisco. That was memorable.

Speaking of Rocket Science

Who knew Nascar was really a front for Star Wars?!?

Building Food

2009-06-02T14:32:00.018-06:00

I uploaded the rest of the pictures from the Memorial Weekend trip we took to Oregon. I'm not going to write about it, but if you care you can see the images via this flickr photostream (clicking the image will show any commentary that goes with it). It was a blast.

Gardening

Last year I built a couple raised beds, but it was too late in the year to get any planting in. This year, though, we are ready . . . this past weekend we got them ready to start producing some food. In total there are three beds we will plant in; each took about a yard of earth to fill.

You can see we have some smaller boxes there too; those are potato boxes. They are starting to grow as well (and since this picture was taken they've gone nuts!)

Before I filled the boxes with dirt, I unloaded a year's worth of household composting and mixed it into the straw base. After the top layer, our compost can was full of the blackest, wettest, stinkiest compost you've ever seen.

I got the soil from Marchie's Nursery here in Missoula. I was going to get just one big load delivered, but not knowing exactly how much I would need, I decided to just take the canopy off the truck and haul it myself. Julia was teaching a dance class, so I did the first load/box myself. Here's what happens when you set the camera down to do some real work and you have an obnoxious teenager that takes a bit much after his grandpa watching over your shoulder:

Didn't take long and I had box #1 full of dirt. It's a bit full, but it has settled quite a bit.

About this time Julia got home so we went after load #2. It's weird seeing my truck without the canopy, since it's been on there for about 10 years!

A couple trips later and we had all three boxes filled. It went a lot faster with a real helper!

Once all the dirt was in, I started spreading that material on the ground around them to block grass and weeds from growing through it.

After that, it was one more trip to the nursery for bark, a little more shoveling and spreading, and it was complete!

It was hot, dirty, sweaty work but I enjoyed the hell out of it. I think I am going to fill in the spaces where the shape isn't square so it is easier to enclose. We can't decide if we are going to just figure out a way to cover the boxes vs. deer or just fence the whole space. I have a little while before that decision needs to be made. Now, we just have to accept that we have introduced the neighborhood's premium catbox facility for all the local felines, the little bastards. . . .

Call Me Wilton

2009-05-29T12:18:00.004-06:00

I get punch-someone-in-the-face mad whenever I see our stupid government give some inept new bureaucrat the title of "Czar." As in this ludicrous headline:

Obama Plans To Name Czar For Cybersecurity

Czar? Please. Since Obama is the Greatest Man in the World, can't he see how dumb that is? Besides the bright glow of asinine, it makes America look like morons. How about something like . . . Kingpin. I know if it were me, in charge, I'd feel a lot cooler if I lurched to my feet in the middle of a meeting, slammed my fist on the desk, and bellowed, "You'll do what I say because I am the goddamn KINGpin!"

You can't beat that hard "K" for making people jump through their assholes.

The Action is Intricate and Exuberant

2009-05-27T13:18:00.011-06:00

I'm taking a break from bashing my skull against the wall for an important announcement. If you are in Missoula, you should come to the Big Bellydance Event Thursday night (May 28th) at the Crystal Theater. Julia has been working her ass off to make this happen, and I know it is going to be cool. My efforts to promote it via Facebook and stupid places like that have been pretty yawn-inducing, but what the hell. Hopefully a few people will come out and see something genuinely cool and unique. I'm even going to accompany Julia on my trusty doumbek (which I've been playing for all of about a week) during her sword dance. Yes, I said sword dance!

Oregon

We spent last weekend in Oregon. We visited Julia's brother Mike in Portland on Friday, did a little bit of shopping (Powell's? Check. Oregon Leather? Check. Anthropologie? Check. Patagonia store? Check.), then headed to Eugene for a couple days to see our friends Angela and Mike Davis and their kids. It was a good time. We got to hear a lot of great rock n' roll stories from their days on the road as manager and bass player (respectively) for the MC5, eat some of Angela's great cooking, and otherwise get in some much needed r&r. Spent a day on the coast as well, which was phenomenal. Don't have time for a lot of detailed travelogue stuff this time around, but here are a couple pretty pictures (I'll follow up with more later, maybe).

The 406 Writers' Workshop

I'm stressing because I talked myself into joining the 406 Writers Workshop. I've never done anything like this before, and haven't taken any kind of "formal" writing instruction since high school, which was a hell of a long time ago. 2 sessions in and it's obvious to me that the project I wanted to do is a form of fiction that is clearly the red headed stepchild I was nervous it might be viewed as. As in, "if it's good and says something beyond what the reader is being bludgeoned with, then it is literary; if it isn't, then it is genre." I disagree with that so much that, frankly, I want to quit. That and the fact that I've kind of lost faith in my story idea, at least as it relates to this workshop, that it is making it very, very difficult to write. And it is due tomorrow. But I'm going to do it anyway, because the people all seem to be really cool. I don't know, maybe I'm just intimidated because all the stories so far have been great, and I never really intended to write a short story in the first place and it's pretty clear that that is what this is about. Oh well, if it bombs I'll just drown my sorrows reading comic books over a gigantic pizza I will down solo, then use pages torn from this Denis Johnson book to sop up the aftermath.

I love what I love, though. I don't know if this is what I always want to write fiction-wise, but it's damn sure where I want to start. This little section, from The Great Pulp Heroes by Don Hutchinson, about the lady friend of Richard Wentworth, the millionaire secret identity of pulp hero The Spider (May '33 - December '43), illustrates the type of laugh-out-loud awesomeness I love about the pulps:

Despite Wentworth's vigilance, lovely Nita was herself the subject of uncounted injuries, tortures, and emotional upheavals. In her efforts to aid the Spider in his battle against the ungodly, she was turned into a gibbering drug addict in "Slaves of the Crime Master," threatened with rape by an orangutan in "The Red Death Rain," had some of her brain cells suctioned out by The Scarlet Doctor, and in "Rule of the Monster Men" was transformed into a surgically altered cripple by that crazed practitioner, The Wreck. She was a spunky gal, though, and occasionally, when the Spider was either wounded, crippled, infected with rabies, blinded, dying, or sentenced to death row in Sing Sing, she'd don his old cape and fright mask and off a few bad guys on her own.

That just resounds with magnificence.

We'll see how it goes. I'm one page into my story and one dude has already been knocked prone by a guy throwing a jukebox at him, so suck it, Philip Roth. Maybe if I end things here with a couple pictures I surreptiously snapped last weekend of a pretty girl who refuses to be photographed, I can get back to it with a clearer mind.

Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. That's the girl I married three years ago today. You can suck that, Dave Eggers.

Yes.

2009-05-20T08:40:00.001-06:00

The Most Trifling Incident Can Make You Snarl With Rage

2009-05-19T14:29:00.014-06:00

Which is why you need to add HEMO RAGE to your workout routine, so that the ass you kick will be copious.

Wicked pumps. Boo-friggin'-YEAH.

Vintage Guitar

The short version of the article I wrote about the Travis Bean documentary arrived on newsstands via Vintage Guitar Magazine this week. Or last week, I guess. Hell, I don't know -- what week is it anyway? It's pretty cool to be in there, though. Even though they spelled my name sorta wrong. And took a sentence out of a paragraph that changed the entire meaning. And left a word out of that paragraph so it makes me look like a moron. Or that they credited the picture I took to Hank. But what the hell, if you buy Vintage Guitar in Indianola, FL, you can see my writing and Hank's glowing mug (playing the Badlander show that earned _pollen the "loudest band to ever play" there reward)(by the way, I was obviously there; whomever reached that conclusion about their volume was either really drunk, or really stoned, or, most likely, both. They weren't that loud; you don't take a 100 watt Rivera Knucklehead and 2 4x12 cabinets out of the backline -- as they did for that show -- and get louder):

As edits go, these aren't too bad. Clearly they were made for space, and I can deal with that. It's not necessarily about making the piece better, it's about making it fit. Hopefully it will get Hank & Co some attention (and some donations). I'm generally okay with editors and making changes, as long as they don't seem to make a change just for the sake of changing. I once had a review of a record where I described it as being "deceptively heavy" but when it hit print it had been changed to "deceptively light." That's only 100% opposite of what I meant. That kind of thing will throw me into, you guessed it, HEMO RAGE!

Live at the Zebra Lounge, Bozeman, May 15th, 2009

Speaking of my friend Hank and his Travis Bean axe, he wrapped up his stint as a Lazerwolfs when we performed our Judas Priest Tribute in Bozeman the other night. It was a lot of fun, hopefully we will do something like that again. If you wonder about the rowdy times kept back stage at a rough-and-tumble rock club, here are Hank and Jimmy, pre-show. I'm sure if there was a window and TV to throw out of it, they would have preferred to do that.

Here's Bubba reading the walls of the "Green Room." Green rooms are never green. He got so settled into that couch that, rather than go out to the truck where he'd left his "rock clothes" he played the set instead in his fleece pullover. I don't see how he didn't die. He also used the drumsticks I keep in my road case for emergencies rather than go out and get his own out of the truck. What a lazy bastard. And people wonder why more often than not I'd rather not be in a rock band?

The Zebra is cool enough, with a decent (low) stage and great sound, especially on stage. The monitors were melting my face, which is rare. I'm usually lucky if I can just barely hear my vocals, especially in this configuration with all the instruments basically aimed at me in the center of the stage. The stage is in one room, then another room off that is where the bar is (there are 2 or 3 more rooms back in this maze too, actually). The bar has a bunch of art in it. From the stage, directly in front of me was a big pole, which sucked, but off in the back of the room I had a clear sight of this painting through the doorway; when I think of this show, I'm sure I'll remember this image forever.

Didn't get any pictures of us playing. In fact, I don't have any from any of our Priest shows other than the couple Hank's wife took the first night we did it. That's unfortunate. Good thing is the soundguy at the Zebra recorded our set, and it came out pretty decent. Here are a couple tunes for your listening pleasure:

Grinder

Steeler

It was a lot of fun. We have a show in Great Falls in June, I think (the booking agent there is kind of inconsistent, and we wouldn't be the first ones to get tangled in some kind of scheduling snafu), then we are playing a festival out in Minnesota in July, then after that I don't know. It is so hard to make things happen anymore that I'm pretty burned out, but we'll see.

30 Inches of Fighting Metal

I love independent, vinyl-only labels. Miskatonic just put this sucker out; I bought the triple-pack, which included all three 10" records + a 7" single from The Lamp of Thoth. These are all fantastic, old school English rock/metal bands, and I love them. Releases like this are what keep me interested in music these days. I like a lot of different types of music these days, but this stuff hits me right in the sweet spot.

You Look Like You Hitchhiked Here

2009-05-18T10:34:00.016-06:00

So I've been trying to wrap this thing up since last Friday, but it was one of those weeks last week. Returned from Ohio just long enough to throw some crap in an overnight bag and head for Bozeman for a rock show. So it's been a labor of catching up.

Yellow Springs

First order of business when I got in on Monday was to drive out to Yellow Springs, since it was only about an hour away. Getting in later than planned, plus traffic, meant that I didn't get to spend as much time there as I'd hoped to. I used to visit Yellow Springs frequently when I lived in Ohio; it has a liberal/hippy vibe to it that reminded me of Missoula, mainly because of Antioch College, which I learned has since closed. The Little Art Theater was still there, though, which is where I saw Winged Migration. It's a cool little indie theater that reminds me a bit of The Loft in Tucson.

Just down from the Little Art was Dark Star Books. I can't believe I'd forgotten about them, I picked up some good stuff there a few years ago. I got in barely before closing time, so I couldn't linger long. Lots of good used books, and while their comics section seemed much reduced, they still had a lot of graphic noves and stuff. A good supply of Allan Eckert books too, historical fiction set in the Ohio Valley that is very popular over there (I read The Frontiersman when I first moved to OH; I liked it).

After wandering up and down the street and looking into all the shops with "Closed" signs on the doors, I happened into the Garden of the Goddess shop, kind of a cross between the Peace Center in Missoula and a head shop; I didn't take these next two shots, but found them online.

I spent some time out front talking to the proprietor of the place, who was definitely a trippy dude. He said Montana seems to him like another planet; I said Ohio is another planet. He talked about being in SoCal during the hippie years, doing LSD when he was 15 and seeing his past 5 birth mothers (which is why he named his shop Garden of the Goddess), spending time with the seers and visionaries in Eden, AZ, etc. Hey, at least he wasn't wearing a backwards ball cap. When I left he gave me his card so I could check out his website.

I hoped to make it back there on Thursday so I could hike John Bryan State Park. Time and weather ultimately worked against me on that, unfortunately. I suspect I will be back in the area in a month or so when this customer has me back out for the installation. I'll make it happen then for sure!

Joseph-Beth Booksellers

I didn't do much my second day there, just stayed relatively close to my hotel. I did a search for "cincinnati independent bookstore" and came up with Joseph-Beth Booksellers. Apparently this is a regional chain with a couple stores in Ohio, one in Pittsburgh, and one in Charlotte, NC. I went and checked it out -- it was pretty cool. They were having a panel discussion with some local NPR folks in a side nook, plus I had plenty of time to browse around. It wasn't the greatest indie store I've ever been in -- if I didn't know better, based on the layout I could have been in any Barnes & Noble or Borders -- but it was cool to know it wasn't some corporate behemoth.

My final day there I wrapped up early at the customer site and headed north to the home office. I hadn't been there in over 3 years, I think. The office has been totally reconfigured, a couple people work there I hadn't ever met, etc. It was good to check in. I learned one thing though: I can't imagine ever working in a stinkin' office again. The last couple years have ruined me.

On my way out of town, I snapped this picture while driving; we don't get thunder and rain out here like they do in Ohio. It was all I could do to see, even with the wipers going full-out.

Also drove by the Dixie Drive-In in Dayton. There aren't enough of these in the world anymore.

All in all it was a good trip, the flights were uneventful, no delays or other random bullshit. I'm almost looking forward to going back in a month. I might head south into Kentucky and check out Big Bone Lick, if the opportunity presents itself. Or maybe go looking for more sideshow people.

Ohio Gothic

2009-05-12T21:00:00.007-06:00

Yesterday I got on a plane to fly to Cincinnati for work. It is always weird coming out this way, as I lived the better part of three years just a couple hours up I-75 from here, and would sometimes fly in and out of the airport (which is actually on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River). It's been a couple years since I was here, and I haven't actually visited the home office in over 3 years, if memory serves. That's kind of crazy, really.

Flying in on a beautiful day, I was reminded how green Ohio is. Of course this shot (a horrible picture, I know) is Kentucky as we flew in; Kentucky was a frontiersman's paradise back in the day.

I drove to my hotel, a lovely Holiday Inn Express that sits just off I-75 in Northern Cincinnati. I mean it is literally right off the damn highway. Here's the view out my window.

Ohio is a weird place. In Sidney, where I lived, you can have a street where in one house the family, who has lived there their entire lives, have thick, unintelligible accents that sound like they just rolled out of the mountains of Tennessee, while next door another family, also lifelong Ohioans, have just the slightest tinge of Midwestern twang. Everyone also has little animal statues in their yards. I mean everyone does. If the family doesn't have a dog to keep in the yard, then I shit you not they will put a statue of one out there. Dogs, deer, gnomes, lawn jockeys; if you can think of something, someone has a whimsical version all painted up on their freakin' lawn, guaranteed.

Ohioans pronounce the town of "Versailles" Ver-Sales (rhymes with Her Sales). "Bellfontaine" is pronounced Bell Fountain (rhymes with Hell Fountain). And "Russia" is something like Roosie (would rhyme with Ruthie if you said it with a lisp). It's like they decided them foreign-lookin' town names weren't 'Merican enough, so they'd pronounce them however they wanted to. It took me forever to figure out what they were talking about when towns like this were mentioned that I couldn't find on the goddamn map.

One of my first trips here I asked a manager at a movie theater if there was a Mexican restaurant nearby, and he said there was one right across the street; "It's real authentic," he said. "It's even run by authentic Mexican people."

So during the course of today's work-related activities, the woman essentially managing the project from the customer side of things asked where I was staying. When I told her, her face crumpled in horror. "That's not where you're staying tonight, is it?" Well, yeah. "That's a horrible part of town!" She went on to relate all the horrors that have been visited by folks upon other folks in this neck of the woods. The White Castle right next door (now featuring Pulled Pork Sliders!) was the scene of an infamous beating death of a guy courtesy of Cincinnati's Finest. Down the street is a Shell station that has been the scene of a couple other murders in the past few years, apparently. It's not like any of this freaks me out too much, since I laugh at death; it simply underscores not only the continued luxury of my accomodations but the real glamour of the biz travel lifestyle! Eat your hearts out, homebodies!

Still, it got me thinking about a couple people I've seen in this vicinity that kind of shows why this part of the country is featured in movies like Gummo, or why filmmakers like David Lynch mine the heartland for bizarre shit. I don't really consider Ohio the heartland; it's too far to the east, but still not possessing that high-nose East Coast snobbery. Down here in Cincinnati we may as well be in Kentucky, or West Virginia, and once you get that far south, the Middle South I'd call it, shit starts getting weird. Only two places have I ever been where I just didn't feel like people wanted me there; once was stopping for gas in West Virginia, and another was browsing through a sporting goods store in South Carolina. The vibe was just creepy, man, and I follow my gut when I get those feelings. I've traveled enough to know that anyone who shrugs and says, "People are people" just flatout hasn't gotten out much.

Anyway. I first got creeped out when I checked into my hotel yesterday. The guy working the desk, an Indian guy (not Indian as in from Browning, but Indian as in from Bhopal), had the most fucked up hand I've ever seen. His right hand was otherwise normal -- four fingers and a thumb -- except he has a miniature, clawlike thumb growing off of his regular thumb. It was so hard not to stare just to wrap my brain around it. I know that isn't very PC, but deformities freak me out. I mean, the guy is right downstairs this moment, and I'm tempted to get a little liquor in me so I wouldn't be afraid to ask to take a picture of it. I'm not enough of a prick sober to do that, unfortunately. And since I've already barricaded myself in for the night, I won't be going anywhere.

The woman I saw this afternoon really set me on edge, though; remember I was already a little freaked out by entering my neighborhood-for-the-week with the newfound knowledge of the criminal proclivities of my neighbors. I was pulling off the highway at my hotel exit, and the ramp ended at a stoplight. Just to my left was a woman sitting in a chair, sun beating down on her, with a cardboard sign that had "POOR" written on it. As I approached, I thought she had some kind of little yarmulke on that looked almost exactly like this; same color and everything:

That's not what it was, though. Most of the top of her skull was cut away; I could clearly see the edge of the bone, though skin-covered. What I thought was the yarmulke I almost thought had to be just the top of her brain, and that is about what it was, with maybe only the thinnest layer of bone, or skin, or something, covering it. The entire edge had big stitches tying it to the lip of bone that circled her crown. I'm not over exaggerating or being flippant at all, that was exactly what it looked like. She looked to be maybe in her 50s, and her face looked like it had undergone some surgery as well. Goddess knows what the hell happened to this poor woman. At her feet was a really ugly reddish-blonde wig. I think that just added to the creepiness of it -- this horrific injury, and the cheap, shapeless wig that looked like it crawled out of the 70s. I felt sorry, and ashamed, and all that . . . we kept casting furtive glances at one another. If I'd had cash on me, I would have given her some, but all I have in my wallet right now are a bunch of goddamn receipts.

Even now reflecting on it makes me kind of uneasy, like -- as Julia suggested and nailed the feeling -- a bad dream that, upon waking up, kind of follows you around all day. There has to be a tragic story there that I'm not so sure I would even want to hear.

In closing tonight's chuckle-fest, I realize we can't have American Gothic stories like this without religion, and there are all manners of awesome old churches, strip mall churches, and imposing mega-churches in the vicinity. Then there is the Solid Rock Church, just up the highway from here. I mean, get a load of the size of their fucking saviour:

If that doesn't make you feel The Lord, Sinner, then nothing will. I see they have a gift shop. If I drive by there tomorrow, I am totally stopping by.

We Need More Police, Har Har Har

2009-05-07T14:48:00.002-06:00

This is disgusting. Is this "change" in action? Remember when Cheney had his Energy Task Force or whatever it was, and everyone was in a tizzy because he wouldn't reveal who was involved? How is this different? Sure, it's out in the open, but representatives of single payer health insurance are not even being allowed at the table. It is disgusting, considering the level of support for single payer in the country. For Baucus to sit there and lie that the purpose of the meeting is to discuss options, yet not include members promoting an option so widely supported, is reprehensible.

I like Baucus's nervous little chuckle at around 3'40 when he is challenged about it being "pay to play" health care, especially considering he takes more money from the health lobby than damn near anyone else. And he's in charge? Jesus! This whole fiasco is corruption in action, period.

This is an excerpt from Ralph Nader's Single Payer Action site; (follow the link to see the whole article):

Yesterday morning, eight doctors, lawyers and other activists stood up to Senator Max Baucus.

And the private health insurance industry.

And the corporate liberals in Congress.

The eight activists demanded that single payer - everybody in, nobody out, free choice of doctor and hospital - be put on the table.

And as a result they were arrested.

And charged with a so-called “disruption of Congress.”

The Associated Press, Wall Street Journal, Politico, Democracy Now and National Public Radio all carried stories about the protest.

C-Span carried it live.

And it was widely disseminated on the Internet.

Baucus crafted a hearing to kick off the health care debate in the Senate yesterday where 15 witnesses would be at the table to discuss health care reform.

The insurance industry was at the table.

The Business Roundtable was at the table.

The U.S. Chamber of Commerce was at the table.

Blue Cross Blue Shield was at the table.

The Heritage Foundation was at the table.

And corporate liberals like Andy Stern, Ron Pollack, and AARP were at the table.

But not one person who stood for what the majority of Americans, doctors, nurses, and health economists want - single payer - was at the table.

Not one.

How is this fair? Where is Obama in all this? Where are his pre-election claims of being in favor of single payer? Who are these assholes representing besides the shitheads who write the big checks? Phah. Obama isn't going to do shit. He'll come on the TV and spout his rhetoric and everyone will swoon all over again about "how great it is to have a president who talks real good."

This is from Kevin Zeese, who was one of the protestors:

Chairman Baucus, invited his major donors to the table: the health insurance industry was there, so were the Chamber of Commerce, the right wing Heritage Foundation, the Business Roundtable, Blue Cross Blue Shield and corporate liberals who have sold out the people like Andy Stern, Ron Pollack and AARP.

But the most popular and efficient health care reform was not at the table. It was not mentioned even though it is the one favored by a majority of doctors, nurses, economists and the American people. Only those who paid to play were included.

For the last few weeks people have been calling and emailing Senator Baucus and other Finance Committee members urging them to include single payer advocates. We were told – no, no one for single payer would be allowed to speak.

Is single payer best? Can it work? How will we know if it isn't seriously considered among all the other options? Don't these idiotic Democrats realize they are playing the very game that got their opposition thrown out of power? Morons, all of them.

Baucus is a scumbag. All those jowly white faces sitting at that table are scumbags. It is pathetic. Big business owns our government, period.

Bacon Will Have Its Revenge on the World

2009-04-27T09:31:00.009-06:00

The only problem with weekends is they are too short. Hell, even a shitty weekend tends to be too short, never mind a good one. As spring has flirted with us, it has been fantastic to get outside and start doing some clean-up around the house, planting stuff, and generally acting like an urban homesteader. A few hours outside getting hands and knees dirty is time well spent, if you ask me. Joe Bageant touches on this in an essay he wrote called "On Native Ground":

My next book is partly about the value of hard physical manual labor. Physical work that directly provides sustenance deepens the practitioner. It allows for contemplation while working. And develops the inner self in dozens of ways that simply performing a single task for a single purpose, money, does not.

I couldn't agree with that statement more. I'm not talking about hard labor like busting up rocks for the State, but clearing out a flower bed or herb bin is sure satisfying when you know you're going to be eating the fruits of that down the road.

Speaking of which, our primitive little corner 'o growing stuff is starting to get wild. We have 60+ tomato plants coming up, and the peppers are finally starting to poke their lazy shoots through the soil too.

I'm just glad I've cultivated an appreciation for yogurt. Hell, even Little D seems pretty excited about sampling all the tasty vittles we're going to harvest this year.

Put in a lot of time outside this weekend, got in some music, and even a little writing. Can't complain about that productivity! And the trusty Blackspots continue their transition from fashion statement to work shoe. That seems entirely appropriate.

Speaking of Adbusters, this cartoon is in the latest issue. I about fell off my chair when I read it. This guy Phil Selby has many great cartoons; you should check them out.

As part of spring cleaning, I culled my bookshelf and took a bunch to The Book Exchange. This place about makes my head explode because they often have a lot of great old stuff you really can't get anymore; sure, you can go out and get some new edition of Dune, but what about a battered copy from the 70s with really cheezy artwork on the cover? Yeah, I have one, and I got it there a while back. This time around, while I was waiting for them to tally my current stack (they pay cash for hardbacks and graphic novels, and give credit for paperbacks) I discovered a stack of old Conan paperbacks that I had back when I was in high school (okay, a couple of them are newer than that, but a good half of them are the vintage, Frazetta-covered ones). Shelf space be damned, I had to grab them! All this magical barbarity for a little over $40, and that wasn't even real money because I have more credit there than I will probably ever use! I told Julia, "What a great time to be alive!" and she laughed . . . but I was damn serious, people!

If You Weren't a Jewish Man Like Myself, I Would Have a Problem With You.

2009-04-25T20:52:00.004-06:00

In case you missed it, the other night Sean Hannity told Charles Grodin he would submit to waterboarding (for charity, of course, or to help the troops' families), as he doesn't believe it's torture. Here's the video:

The next night, Keith Olbermann called his bluff, offering $1000 for every second Hannity endured. A website has even been created where you too can get it on the act of donating money for Hannity's big event (as if it will actually happen). Of course you read commentary around the blogosphere, and everyone is full of suggestions for other people who should be waterboarded as well, and while I don't really want to get into that, I think O'Reilly ought to be targeted for this kind of shit he vomits forth on a regular basis.

I'm sure the networks behind all this grandstanding are eating it up, and that makes me sick too, and pretty much all these assholes make me want to puke. Besides, this "waterboard a 'journalist'"(a word which is a stretch when any of these blowhards are involved) thing has already been done. Christopher Hitchens did it for Vanity Fair last summer; he wrote an article called "Believe Me, It's Torture" that ran in the August '08 issue. I urge you to read it; Hitchens is a fantastic writer. Here is an excerpt:

You may have read by now the official lie about this treatment, which is that it “simulates” the feeling of drowning. This is not the case. You feel that you are drowning because you are drowning—or, rather, being drowned, albeit slowly and under controlled conditions and at the mercy (or otherwise) of those who are applying the pressure. The “board” is the instrument, not the method. You are not being boarded. You are being watered. This was very rapidly brought home to me when, on top of the hood, which still admitted a few flashes of random and worrying strobe light to my vision, three layers of enveloping towel were added. In this pregnant darkness, head downward, I waited for a while until I abruptly felt a slow cascade of water going up my nose. Determined to resist if only for the honor of my navy ancestors who had so often been in peril on the sea, I held my breath for a while and then had to exhale and—as you might expect—inhale in turn. The inhalation brought the damp cloths tight against my nostrils, as if a huge, wet paw had been suddenly and annihilatingly clamped over my face. Unable to determine whether I was breathing in or out, and flooded more with sheer panic than with mere water, I triggered the pre-arranged signal and felt the unbelievable relief of being pulled upright and having the soaking and stifling layers pulled off me. I find I don’t want to tell you how little time I lasted.

Sounds like a gas, eh? Here's the video:

I'll be curious to see a) if Hannity actually does it, b) what his excuse will be if he doesn't, and c) what he'll say about it afterward. I suspect that if we get to "c" he won't change his tune, because he has his image to protect. And he should be called on it, but I think Olbermann being involved just makes any chance that Hannity would be honest about null. Too much ego and pride involved among these haircuts.

What a lot of these "my ass it's torture!" types fail to realize is that it isn't necessarily any single one of these things that is torture in the same sense as something medievel like having your thumbs screwed or rocks piled on you, or hot pokers slipped into any part of your body. It is the combination of all the little things that cause the shock. The sensory deprivation, the isolation, the fear, all of it in combination. It works to achieve pure overload; Naomi Klein touches on it brilliantly in the first 50 pages or so of her magnificent work, Shock Doctrine, and it is friggin' harrowing. Anyone who can look at these tactics and not see torture is psychotic and should probably be put in a padded cell. Their attitude is more deeply offensive to me than just about anything I can really imagine.

Note: the music playing during the Hitchens waterboarding trial/torture segment sounds suspiciously like Enigma, a musical entity that was often played by the yoga instructor I tortured myself with a couple years ago. Coincidence? I think not. . . .

Where Did all the Weight Come From?

2009-04-23T17:05:00.002-06:00

Earth Day Unplugged

2009-04-23T09:00:00.011-06:00

Still doing the unplugged thing in the evenings this week. Here are last night's inane ramblings; and you probably don't need to be reminded to click the picture to see it BIG.

This is my bike helmet. Nutcase makes a bunch of awesome ones.

I like it because it looks like something a superhero might wear. Julia says I should wear a cape with it. I think I need to get some lycra instead.

Stumbling Unplugged

2009-04-21T13:45:00.016-06:00

Seeing as how I'm spending my evenings unplugged, last night I took a foray into journaling land. The timing was perfect, having just read an inspiring little book called How to Make a Journal of Your Life by Dan Price. A book I actually won as a result of entering a journal entry contest, actually. Not that my entry won anything, I think just by entering I was automatically entered into a drawing or something. I don't know. But here are the scans of last night's exercise, plus some photos from the trip (to enhance your experience, you see); as always, clicking on an image will show you a larger version.

If you care to see all the shots from the trip with additional commentary, well knock yourself out -- you can dig them on my flickr page!

I <3 Naomi Klein

2009-04-21T11:45:00.006-06:00

I hadn't read anything from Naomi Klein recently, but lo and behold she has two great pieces out.

HERE she makes her case, via the Washington Post, for getting rid of Larry Summers, Obama's chief economic adviser.

For all his appeals to absolute truths, he has been spectacularly wrong again and again. He was wrong about not regulating derivatives. Wrong when he helped kill Depression-era banking laws, turning banks into too-big-to-fail welfare monsters. And as he helps devise ever more complex tricks and spends ever more taxpayer dollars to keep the financial casino running, he remains wrong today.

Writing in The Nation, she addresses disappointment in Obama via various hope-related maladies.

Hopesick. Like the homesick, hopesick individuals are intensely nostalgic. They miss the rush of optimism from the campaign trail and are forever trying to recapture that warm, hopey feeling--usually by exaggerating the significance of relatively minor acts of Obama decency. Sample sentences: "I was feeling really hopesick about the escalation in Afghanistan, but then I watched a YouTube video of Michelle in her organic garden and it felt like inauguration day all over again. A few hours later, when I heard that the Obama administration was boycotting a major UN racism conference, the hopesickness came back hard. So I watched slideshows of Michelle wearing clothes made by ethnically diverse independent fashion designers, and that sort of helped."

UPDATE

HERE is a good rebuttal to Naomi's piece by Katha Pollitt.

I know a lot of people who supported Obama, and every time I see them I ask how they think he's doing. The only people I've found who've given up on him, who feel betrayed, misled, and foolish, are those leftists who didn't like him in the first place and voted for him in a weak moment as the lesser evil. They, predictably, went back to their cabins on Mt. Disdain before Obama had even been inaugurated. Obama will never satisfy the left because no president could. FDR didn't satisfy the left either.

I'm with Katha. I don't know of any Obama supporters who have given up on him; hell, I can't say I've given up on him, though I was never "for" him either; I certainly don't feel "betrayed, misled or foolish." I hope he succeeds in a way that is favorable to average people, and not just to the people who bankroll our government. I think that success requires people taking shots at his missteps outside of the kneejerk reactions we would expect from the Fox crowd.

Speaking of kickass, take-no-bullshit women journalist/writers. . . .

We have tickets to see Amy Goodman in Missoula tonight. We saw her in Tucson several years ago, and it was great. I'm looking forward to it!

If you aren't familiar with Amy's work at Democracy Now!, you should be.

420 Follow-up

2009-04-21T11:03:00.004-06:00

NPR had a great program I listened to last night on my way to hiking the M called What If Marijuana Were Legal?

NPR came up with a hypothetical scenario and asked experts to play along, commenting on their imagined outcomes. The scenario: Marijuana has been legal for two years throughout the U.S. It is treated, in the eyes of the law, similar to alcohol. It is taxed and regulated, and users must be 21 or older. Pot smokers can buy it by the gram at licensed dispensaries. Predictably, the law change would make some people very happy — and others deeply concerned.

It is well worth checking out. I thought it was balanced and fair, and very interesting. Well worth your time (plus it kept me off that goddamn mountain an extra 15 minutes or so)!

Happy Wink-and-a-Nudge Day

2009-04-20T14:15:00.006-06:00

Apparently April 20th is officially "Pot Day." Ryan Grim over at The Huffington Post has an interesting article about the origins of the whole "420" thing that, from its position as something of a cultural phenomenon, is worth reading. Hell, there are articles today all over the place about pot smoking, medical marijuana, the status of the legalization movement, etc. Also over at Huffington Post, former Seattle police chief Norm Stamper has a post about why members of LEAP (Law Enforcement Against Prohibition) feel pot, among other drugs, should be legalized. I recently read an article from The Economist that compared statistics from prohibition countries vs. non-prohibition countries that debunked a lot of the myths about it. There is also a case to be made that a lot of the violence, particularly in Mexico, would be eliminated if we put an end to this ludicrous "War on Drugs." A statistic I heard on the radio was that 70% of the multi-billion dollar drug trade in Mexico is comprised of marijuana being shipped to the USA. So it seems to me that if you are a pot smoker in this country, unless you grow it yourself there is probably a pretty fair chance there is some drug cartel blood on your hands when you fire up.

I have mixed feelings about prohibition. On the one hand, I think it's ridiculous that alcohol is legal and pot is not; the Stamper piece elucidates why quite succinctly. I say legalize all this shit and tax the bejeezus out of it; prohibition really isn't stopping the people who want to do it from doing so. I was disappointed that President Obama was so flippant when asked about the effect that legalization might have vis-a-vis our economic woes.

Personally, I think he's dead wrong. Not only would the taxation of pot and other drugs generate tons of revenue, but eliminating the asinine ban on growing hemp for its multitude of uses would also be an avenue for generating income. It's ridiculous.

All that said, I am no fan of marijuana. I've never tried it myself (I've never taken any illicit drugs at all, for that matter). I've never had any interest, nor do I now. When I was younger, I was pretty judgemental about it, and I have to admit that, to a degree, after some years of not feeling that way it is starting to creep back into my psyche. Probably because I have a teenager facing the hurdles of growing up in what seems a cloud of it everywhere but home. There seems to be a glorification of it everywhere I look now -- on TV, in music, the "loveable stoner" archetype that dominates pop culture. It scares me the roads he could take, because I know many, many people who have turned their lives upside down with something as simple as pot smoking. If it weren't illegal, a lot of that would change . . . but I don't care what anyone says, the habitual smokers I've known have been every bit as addicted to it as anything else, and as unwilling to give it up in the face of their best interests (even if that best interest is called "probation"). I don't like being around people who are stoned. I don't dislike it as much as I dislike being around people who are utterly wasted on alcohol (and I have been there myself, once), but it still adjusts a personality such that the person I am face to face with isn't the one I probably became friends with in the first place. I don't like that. I have had, and currently have, co-workers who were/are regular stoners outside of work who are difficult to work with because they just can't seem to remember shit. Coincidence? Perhaps, and I'm willing to accept a charge that they are being judged by my own bias, but usually my exasperation in these situations has already been tweaked long before I learn of their proclivity for getting stoned. The last all ages show we did was the last simply because of the steady stream of kids coming in that reeked of weed. I hate standing in line at the video store behind some kid in a stained hoodie, baked and reeking, renting a stack of video games and a couple boxes of candy. It breaks my heart, to be honest.

It's an adult thing, and I think adults should be allowed to do what they want provided no one is getting hurt. I wouldn't partake even if it was legal. But to deny the risks of people getting hooked on pot and coming up short as productive members of a society is, to me, every bit as ludicrous as making it illegal in the first place. Some people can deal with it. A lot can't. I'm not saying people shouldn't have the choice, but to try and paint it as some beautiful, earthy thing that "connects one to nature" is a crock. Maybe that's your experience, but it ain't everyone's.

The Digital Detox Challenge

This from Adbusters:

Computer screens, iPods, TVs, phones and the dozens of other devices we’re cybernetically attached to are so pervasive that we can’t escape them. We live them, we breath them, we need them ... Or do we?

On Monday, April 20, Adbusters challenges you to do the unthinkable: unplug. Say good-bye to Twitter and Facebook. Turn off your TV, iPhone and Xbox. Reconnect with the natural world and the people around you. You’ll be amazed at how the magic creeps back into your life.

Go to www.adbusters.org for inspiration, articles, videos, posters and more. Next Monday, don't be afraid and don't find excuses ... take the plunge and see what happens.

After a weekend out of town with no email, no computer, no TV, no iPod, and very little phone (Sid called me twice), I am more convinced than ever that I am going to do this. Coming back, even after being in a city, and even though I was only gone a couple days, was a shock. So since I can't unplug during the day because my (current) job requires a lot of plug-in, I am going to practice this little exercise outside of the hours of 7:00 AM (when work starts) to 4:30 PM (when it ends). After that, no electronic bullshit. We'll see how it goes.

I think I'll journal old school, then scan what I wrote and upload it to my blog while I'm at work. Or not. We'll see.

Here's a picture of an obnoxious seagull demanding potato chips: