Recovery
In a few minutes I will purchase what I intend to be my last hit of crack. I quit for two months last winter, but fell off the wagon after things started to get crazy. It shouldn't be so bad this time. I can't say for certain whether my will is going to hold up to the DTs (although I've been through them before) let alone the added stresses of clean living. From tomorrow on it's nothing but distilled water and pure grain alcohol for me. I'll be away for a few days, but in the mean time, if you see a red-bearded man wearing stockings and a bustier strung out on the street covered in his own filth, avoid him at all costs; it probably won't be me, but you really don't want anything to do with someone like that anyway.
The Little Man In My Head is playing "Barbie Girl" by Aqua. Seriously, someone needs to put a stop to this shit.
The Little Man In My Head is playing "Barbie Girl" by Aqua. Seriously, someone needs to put a stop to this shit.
Rationalization
I figure I'm on the clock from the time my alarm goes off until I'm back at home with a few beers in me. Everything in between is a deviation from my natural state. So I figure between all the time screwing off on the computer, sleeping in the can, and sneaking off to the bar in the middle of the day, I'm pretty much breaking even at 40 hours a week.
It's the American™ Way.
TLMIMHIP: The old Caruso Band Miller Beer jingle. That little fucker acheived a trifecta! A shitty jingle about a shitty beer, based on a shitty Oak Ridge Boys song.
It's the American™ Way.
TLMIMHIP: The old Caruso Band Miller Beer jingle. That little fucker acheived a trifecta! A shitty jingle about a shitty beer, based on a shitty Oak Ridge Boys song.
Digression
I have a colleague, Jon, who is getting shots before he leaves on a Presbyterian peacemaking trip to Colombia next week. We may differ greatly in our philosophies on many things, except that this town sells itself short when it comes to decent architecture and planning, but I admire the fact that he tries to live his life in a manner which makes the world a better place.
Now back to my usual anarchist ravings, tourettesque outbursts of obscenities, and updates on the ongoing musical battle with The Little Man In My Head.
TLMIMHIP: "Road to Nowhere" by the Talking Heads but sung by Bob Mould with his nasaly grinding Minnesotan "O" sounds. WTF? Do you understand the shit I have to deal with?
Now back to my usual anarchist ravings, tourettesque outbursts of obscenities, and updates on the ongoing musical battle with The Little Man In My Head.
TLMIMHIP: "Road to Nowhere" by the Talking Heads but sung by Bob Mould with his nasaly grinding Minnesotan "O" sounds. WTF? Do you understand the shit I have to deal with?
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Free Radicals
It is my observation that whenever several radical thinkers start to agree on too many things, they start revolutions and form governments. This is where it all goes to shit. Let us continue to disagree.
TLMIMHIP: "More Than a Feeling" - Boston. Thanks B, thanks a lot.
TLMIMHIP: "More Than a Feeling" - Boston. Thanks B, thanks a lot.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Price of Greatness
A couple days ago was the boy's first birthday. He's really figured out the whole wrapping paper thing, but I fear that after a week straight of opening presents daily he's going to be disappointed when the orgy of concealed consumption ceases after tomorrow. But I digress.
After the festivities were over and the boy was in bed, I settled in to watch "My Architect" about Louis Kahn, directed by the son he barely knew. After a few minutes of the movie Joanna (not her real name, if you didn't already know) turned to me and said "If this is the price of becoming a greatness, I'd chose mediocrity." This struck me on several levels. Who wouldn't want that level genius? Kahn achieved what followers of every major religion strive for, immortality. Long after his friends and family and everyone who knew him are long dead and forgotten, he will continue to live through his works.
He designed on such a timeless level that his buildings still look fresh decades later, yet seem as if they've been standing for two thousand years.
His buildings are true to their materials and their function in a way that surpassed most other modernists, with the possible exception of Alvar Aalto.
(Not that Aalto holds a candle to Kahn's monumentality, but certainly has him beat on the human scale.)
Then again, what's the joy in having a wife and two mistresses, and a child with each, yet sleeping alone on a bench in the studio? Where's the satisfaction in reshaping modern architectural theory yet dying unidentified and penniless on the toilet in Penn Station? The guy worked like a dog and alienated those around him his whole life and only recieved recognition very late in life. He never even got to see his masterpiece completed.
or...
TLMIMHIP: "Dead" - They Might Be Giants
Now it's over I'm dead and I haven't done anything that I want
Or, I'm still alive and there's nothing I want to do
(Steve Burns cover)
After the festivities were over and the boy was in bed, I settled in to watch "My Architect" about Louis Kahn, directed by the son he barely knew. After a few minutes of the movie Joanna (not her real name, if you didn't already know) turned to me and said "If this is the price of becoming a greatness, I'd chose mediocrity." This struck me on several levels. Who wouldn't want that level genius? Kahn achieved what followers of every major religion strive for, immortality. Long after his friends and family and everyone who knew him are long dead and forgotten, he will continue to live through his works.
He designed on such a timeless level that his buildings still look fresh decades later, yet seem as if they've been standing for two thousand years.
His buildings are true to their materials and their function in a way that surpassed most other modernists, with the possible exception of Alvar Aalto.
(Not that Aalto holds a candle to Kahn's monumentality, but certainly has him beat on the human scale.)Then again, what's the joy in having a wife and two mistresses, and a child with each, yet sleeping alone on a bench in the studio? Where's the satisfaction in reshaping modern architectural theory yet dying unidentified and penniless on the toilet in Penn Station? The guy worked like a dog and alienated those around him his whole life and only recieved recognition very late in life. He never even got to see his masterpiece completed.
or...
TLMIMHIP: "Dead" - They Might Be GiantsNow it's over I'm dead and I haven't done anything that I want
Or, I'm still alive and there's nothing I want to do
(Steve Burns cover)
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Penance and Pensiveness
I wrote some pretty pathetic shit this morning and I deeply apologize. There ain't no excuse for that. It's a happy thing to know that despite the low clouds and sparse light of December north of the 47th parallel, all it takes to brighten one's mood is drinking several pints during lunch and stumbling back in to work. If one's problems can be solved by a half gallon of fermented barley, then there's really not much to bitch about.
The little man in my head is playing: "Feliz Navidad" by Jose Feliciano. The guy in the next cube was singing that this morning in blatent violation of company policy. I'd care, but I just keep drinking.
The little man in my head is playing: "Feliz Navidad" by Jose Feliciano. The guy in the next cube was singing that this morning in blatent violation of company policy. I'd care, but I just keep drinking.
The Rains Have Come
[edited]
The rains started Monday, and Tuesday morning after freezing over night I found my self skidding sideways toward a parked car. Fortunately all those Minnesota teenage nights of doing donuts in frozen parking lots coupled with some refresher courses on the abandoned streets in the warehouse district east of downtown during the recent cold snap paid off. I turned into the skid, gave it just enough gas to grip, and straightened right out. Fuck ABS and four wheel drive, that shit won't save your sorry ass once you're sideways on black ice.
TLMIMHIP: "Damn Good Times" - They Might Be Giants
The rains started Monday, and Tuesday morning after freezing over night I found my self skidding sideways toward a parked car. Fortunately all those Minnesota teenage nights of doing donuts in frozen parking lots coupled with some refresher courses on the abandoned streets in the warehouse district east of downtown during the recent cold snap paid off. I turned into the skid, gave it just enough gas to grip, and straightened right out. Fuck ABS and four wheel drive, that shit won't save your sorry ass once you're sideways on black ice.
TLMIMHIP: "Damn Good Times" - They Might Be Giants
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Miscellany
If you still need an indication of what the United Sates of America have become, Texas Senator John Cornyn stated this week "None of your civil liberties matter much after you're dead." Compare this to Patrick Henry's words "Give me liberty or give me death." I'm happy that a senator from my adopted home state is leading a filibuster against the unintentionally hilariously named PATRIOT Act. I'm not saying I'll vote for him (or vote at all), nor do I think it will do any good in the long run. I just like the word "filibuster."
In news that I actually have any influence over, I have set up a camera for iChat so theoretically you can watch me mincing about in go-go boots, a feather boa and a platinum blonde wig. However, you probably wouldn't want to see that, and if you do, I don't want you watching me, you sick fuck. Besides, while I may have opened a digital door to the world after a long period of relative seclusion, I'm not quite ready to comb the mats out of my beard and leave my virtual windowless mountain shack just yet.
TLMIMHIP: The Hammond organ solo from "I Got You" by the Splint Enz
In news that I actually have any influence over, I have set up a camera for iChat so theoretically you can watch me mincing about in go-go boots, a feather boa and a platinum blonde wig. However, you probably wouldn't want to see that, and if you do, I don't want you watching me, you sick fuck. Besides, while I may have opened a digital door to the world after a long period of relative seclusion, I'm not quite ready to comb the mats out of my beard and leave my virtual windowless mountain shack just yet.
TLMIMHIP: The Hammond organ solo from "I Got You" by the Splint Enz
Thursday, December 15, 2005
You Are All Individuals. We Are All Individuals.
In response to Jake and Knight of Pan's polite conversation. I think that despite talk of "diversity" we live in a society where people think differences have to be settled by an election, court or war. Nobody is simply allowed to mind their own business and live the way the way they want to. Every issue is simplified to two opposing viewpoints defined by the puppets on TV with no thought of the infinite possible angles. People shout at eachother for a while, count the votes or count the bodies, one side is victorious, and the others have to give up and begrudgingly go along with the outcome. Of course this scenario never solves anything as the fight never really ends. While differences of opinion are tolerated to a point, attempts to live outside the bounds of convention are not. As Reagan's Secretary of State Alexander Haig said of protestors "Let them march all they want, as long as they pay their taxes."
TLMIMHIP: "Can't Get Away With That" - Stiff Little Fingers
Took us for this (Took us for this)
Took us for that (Took us for that)
Took us for granted
You can't get away with that
That refrain woke me up at 3:30 am.
TLMIMHIP: "Can't Get Away With That" - Stiff Little Fingers
Took us for this (Took us for this)
Took us for that (Took us for that)
Took us for granted
You can't get away with that
That refrain woke me up at 3:30 am.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Decemb(e)rists
On this day 180 years ago Russian intellectuals and officers attempted to revolt against Tsar Nicholas I. Complete failure. Now we have even more Tsars: Drug Tsar, Terrorism Tsar, Energy Tsar, Faith-Based-Action Tsar, Sticking-Their-Big-Nose-In-Other-People’s-Business Tsar, etc. Yeah, but keep voting folks; you’re making a big difference.
On Sunday after, yet again, nearly breaking my neck on the icy stoop. I went to buy supplies to put up gutters on the on porch and back deck (galvanized steel baby, no vinyl crap on my house). The sound system at the lumber yard was pumping out lethal doses of Xmas cheer, and something in me just died. It was all I could do to hang the gutters without hanging myself.
Last night a Decemberists CD I had ordered at the Long Ear came in. I cracked it open this morning completely unaware of the synchronistic date. As I listened I realized that it was not exactly helping to counteract the combined effects of solar deprivation and canned holiday music. Then I realized the date. Fortunately, I have an old friend in the refrigerator to help. Thanks Pinky, you’ve always been there for me!
TLMIMHIP: “Cocaine Blues” Bob Dylan
On Sunday after, yet again, nearly breaking my neck on the icy stoop. I went to buy supplies to put up gutters on the on porch and back deck (galvanized steel baby, no vinyl crap on my house). The sound system at the lumber yard was pumping out lethal doses of Xmas cheer, and something in me just died. It was all I could do to hang the gutters without hanging myself.
Last night a Decemberists CD I had ordered at the Long Ear came in. I cracked it open this morning completely unaware of the synchronistic date. As I listened I realized that it was not exactly helping to counteract the combined effects of solar deprivation and canned holiday music. Then I realized the date. Fortunately, I have an old friend in the refrigerator to help. Thanks Pinky, you’ve always been there for me!
TLMIMHIP: “Cocaine Blues” Bob Dylan
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Crap
Don't make me start using winky smiley faces.
TLMIMHIP: "Happy Birthday To You" as performed by the Ramones.
TLMIMHIP: "Happy Birthday To You" as performed by the Ramones.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
It Happened Again
For whatever reason I'll be talking with a young woman in her twenties.
Young woman: So what do you do?
X: I'm an architect.
Young woman: Oh, Really? (and she smiles)
I'm actually quite flattered each time this happens, but I can't help but think of all the times over a decade ago when I was trying to pick up on girls, and they would ask me what I did. I'd say janitor or dishwasher or busboy or whatever shit job I had at the time, and they'd often look down their noses at me. Then I think of the young woman who didn't care that I was a dishwasher when she met me. All she cared about was the fact that I am a brilliant genius with a thick mane of wavy hair, deep blue-gray eyes, lucious full lips, broad shoulders and a nice ass.
Young woman: So what do you do?
X: I'm an architect.
Young woman: Oh, Really? (and she smiles)
I'm actually quite flattered each time this happens, but I can't help but think of all the times over a decade ago when I was trying to pick up on girls, and they would ask me what I did. I'd say janitor or dishwasher or busboy or whatever shit job I had at the time, and they'd often look down their noses at me. Then I think of the young woman who didn't care that I was a dishwasher when she met me. All she cared about was the fact that I am a brilliant genius with a thick mane of wavy hair, deep blue-gray eyes, lucious full lips, broad shoulders and a nice ass.
Sitemeter
This thing is addictive. I'm getting enough hits from people looking for all manner of transvestites that it doesn't phase me. some still stick out to me, like the Texan looking for "Erotic milking" (I've spent much of my life around all manner of lactation, and while it is a beautiful thing, "erotic" it ain't) or the Iranian looking for "milking Women". Well today I got a hit with a rather mundane sexual search string, but it came from Hallibuton.com. Halliburton!
Friday, December 09, 2005
And The Colored Girls Go...
Britt posted about having a wierd name. I've got a common first name which I've always had to share with several classmates or coworkers everywhere I go so it's no picnic either. But my last name caused me no end of grief as a kid. I've come to terms with it and am quite proud of it these days, but I will not hesitate to inform you that you are not, in fact, clever if you quote the following songs to me: Wild Thing, (Take a Ride on the) Wild Side, Born to be Wild, Wild One, or Walk on the Wild Side.
TLMIMHIP: "Wild in the Streets" - Circle Jerks
TLMIMHIP: "Wild in the Streets" - Circle Jerks
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Minnesota is not "Back East"
Twelve degrees is not cold, and you do not need four wheel drive or studded snow tires.
Just so you know.
TLMIMHIP: "I'm the Only Gay Eskimo"
Just so you know.
TLMIMHIP: "I'm the Only Gay Eskimo"
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Mythology and Folklore
I’ve always had an interest in ancient folklore, despite a more than a little agnostic when it comes to literal interpretations. Embellishment, exageration and outright fabrication may make a story entertaining, but in order to have much staying power it must have a central kernel of truth. The way I see it, if a fable has managed to last hundreds or thousands of years, there must be some important lesson to be learned from it. It seems that the scientific community has finally recognized this font of information. Maybe now if some more folks likethese could spend less time and energy obsessing about a few short passages and more time on all the love and forgiveness stuff (note the source) that comprises the bulk of their stories, maybe society will get somewhere. Wait, who the hell am I kidding?
TLMIMHIP: "I Wanna Be Sedated" as covered by Shonen Knife.
TLMIMHIP: "I Wanna Be Sedated" as covered by Shonen Knife.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Aluminum Foil Hats Are a Conspiracy
Researchers at MIT have tested the effectiveness of aluminum foil hats in reducing radio signals at various points in the brain. Their results show that not only do they not work, but actually increase the strength of signals coinciding with the Federal government communications bands, 1.2-1.4 Ghz, and the mobile telephone band, 2.6 Ghz. Their conclusion, "It requires no stretch of the imagination to conclude that the current helmet craze is likely to have been propagated by the Government, possibly with the involvement of the FCC. We hope this report will encourage the paranoid community to develop improved helmet designs to avoid falling prey to these shortcomings."
TLMIMHIP: "Cemetary Polka" Tom Waits.
That'll teach me.
TLMIMHIP: "Cemetary Polka" Tom Waits.
That'll teach me.
Response to Knight of Pan
As Ben Franklin replied when asked about what form of government was to be created under the Constitution, "A republic, if you can keep it." It's clear to me that the republic has not been kept. However, this is not news. No piece of paper can constrain power. Right from the start politicians started violating the Bill of Rights and haven't stopped since. Don't get me wrong, they were a great idea at least in theory, but a freedom minded individual can't simply pine for a past that never was. One must consider the possibilities that the future holds and how to exercise Will in a way that advances liberty. As a different kind of founding father, Gibby Haynes, said "Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going weren't never there..." (Nod to Jake)
Impending Sense of Doom
I'm basking in the light of an oncoming train right now. They call it Seasonal Affective Disorder, but is it really a disorder? I think anyone who goes to work in the dark, goes home in the dark and spends the 8 hours in between trying to peer over the cubicle wall, around the filing cabinets, past some fat guy wagging his jaw about college basketball and through the conference room window just to catch a glimpse of daylight, and doesn't want to blow his head off is the one with the disorder. However, as the effects of a month of solar deprivation begin to take their toll (my work situation is not as bad as the one described above as I have not one but two windows in my fourth floor office and try to spend a couple hours a day out on job sites) I am still benefiting from the residual mania of autumn. Each year around the end of September as the heat and laziness of summer wears off, a manic drive kicks in. Perhaps the fleeting daylight signals something in my Swedish genetics telling me to change out of my pumps and hot pants into boots and jeans to bring in the firewood, harvest the crops and pickle the herring before the Scandinavian sun rises and sets for the last time until late January. Once December kicks in I can tell that my will to live will soon be fleeting and will not return until sometime before St. Patrick's Day but after St. Groundhog's Day. This weekend will probably be my last hurrah before I spend the next three months curled up in front of the fireplace in a housecoat and pink fuzzy slippers. I'll try and finish up a few projects, go skiing again and celebrate the fact that I've managed to live as long as Karen Carpenter did.
Note: I originally wrote the following yesterday morning. I only post it now so you can see how quickly the tide is turning.
Pretty scary, huh? Don’t you just want to slap me for writing that shit?
TLMIMHIP: "Holiday Road" - Lindsey Buckingham (from National Lampoon's Vacation)
There, now that'll be stuck in your head the rest of the day.
Note: I originally wrote the following yesterday morning. I only post it now so you can see how quickly the tide is turning.
- Every time I'm about to pull up stakes and move the whole famn damily to The Coast (Note: "The Coast" in Inland Northwestspeak refers not to Aberdeen or Astoria but to the Puget Sound or Willamette Valley regions, which are in reality over an hour's drive from open water) something happens that makes me realize why I live here. We've had snow dumped on us for the last week and now everything looks like this:
This weekend they opened up the back side of Lookout Pass. I spent Sunday carving deep powder in the clear mile-high sunshine. The reptilian ridge of Stevens Peak loomed over the head of the valley, it’s blanket of fog slipping occasionally to expose a bony spine. I loaded up the Shuffle with some surf tunes (and some Abba, of course) and put on my Glen-Plake-circa-1986 red goggles. Totally awesome, dude. Lookout is without question my favorite ski area. Not a whole lot of vertical or much technical terrain, but no lines, no condos, no quad+ chairs, no yuppies wearing $5K worth of gear, just bums and locals, and my season pass cost less than two day tickets at most resorts.
Pretty scary, huh? Don’t you just want to slap me for writing that shit?
TLMIMHIP: "Holiday Road" - Lindsey Buckingham (from National Lampoon's Vacation)
There, now that'll be stuck in your head the rest of the day.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Sensitive Artist / Dirty Whore
Probably due to my upbringing, I've always perceived art and poverty as two parts of the same equation. As a result I've sought to find a balance between free expression and financial stability, with mixed results. On my journey I chose a rather conventional path of schooling and apprenticeship in an ancient profession (no, not that ancient profession) with occasional forays into art school (worth every minute) and real estate classes (I'd rather scrub public toilets again).
What I never expected is that as much as I enjoy the design process and dislike the whole managing contractors, engineers and paperwork bit, I often feel better about the latter than the former. Frankly my favorite projects have been educational and other civic projects. These projects are usually light on form and heavy on fuction, but I know I my work has made life better for the users. On the other hand, the slick designs I've come up with have usually been for developers and business owners for whom I have little respect. I won't lie; it's a helluva lotta fun to sketch up designs, build models and do renderings, but I often feel like I'm painting myself up to work East Sprague Avenue, sometimes quite literally.
Out of this I've come to a realization: Architects are like prostitutes, except we're not in it for the money. At least I'm in good company. And there's always a chance that my Sugar Mama's gonna set me up in a nice studio near the beach when she hits the big time.
TLMIMHIP: "Detatchable Penis" King Missile
What I never expected is that as much as I enjoy the design process and dislike the whole managing contractors, engineers and paperwork bit, I often feel better about the latter than the former. Frankly my favorite projects have been educational and other civic projects. These projects are usually light on form and heavy on fuction, but I know I my work has made life better for the users. On the other hand, the slick designs I've come up with have usually been for developers and business owners for whom I have little respect. I won't lie; it's a helluva lotta fun to sketch up designs, build models and do renderings, but I often feel like I'm painting myself up to work East Sprague Avenue, sometimes quite literally.
Out of this I've come to a realization: Architects are like prostitutes, except we're not in it for the money. At least I'm in good company. And there's always a chance that my Sugar Mama's gonna set me up in a nice studio near the beach when she hits the big time.
TLMIMHIP: "Detatchable Penis" King Missile
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Two Pieces of Good News
Janitors in Houston have voted to unionize. While this is by no means a panacea, it’s good to see some very hardworking, underappreciated professionals organizing freely in order to negotiate on a more level playing field with their corporate employers.Also, scientists in Manchester (where else?) have finally come up with an equation to quantify the “beer goggles” effect. Good news for nerds looking to increase their probability of gettin some luvin.
The Little Man In My Head is spinning the Abba vinyl old-school disco style: “Mama Mia” with backup vocals from “Super Trouper” over the bass line from “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” and throwing in the occasional “if I” from the chorus of “Money Money Money”.
