« May 2005 | Main | July 2005 »
Deep Throat is no longer a mystery. He's a pleasant-seeming old man suffering from dementia.
Don't get me wrong, I think he did a great serviece to this country, risking god knows what to get information about government corruption to the press. I just had a dark, sinister trenchcoated cloak-and-dagger kind of thing in my head. That's all.
Possibly The Greatest Video Ever. Or Not.
A bit NSFW.
Thanks Wonkette! You little pundit hottie you.
About damn time. Judd Apatow's follow-up to Freaks and Geeks. Also snubbed by morons.
I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen. It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and children collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diphtheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing would save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit because they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference. Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand propping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentery which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated. It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it; it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tattooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.
From the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was among the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945.
Seriously. You've got that to work with, and you come up with this? Jeez.
According to the Newshour, Christina Aguilera's music is used as a, well, coercion technique at Gitmo.
Maybe a hint for her to switch to singing jazz standards, like I keep saying. Just a suggestion. Really pretty voice, mostly crappy music.
Well, I went to the dentist today. I've been needing to go forever, but I just haven't had the cash.
Just haven't had the cash. Wow. I totally thought I knew what that meant.
Example. The cleaning I need before I actually get any work done: $200 plus. Per quad. A quad is 1/4 of your teeth. Four appointments. $800+ total. Yikes.
I am so screwed.
If you’re new to the whole System of a Down phenomenon, a quick primer might be helpful. Imagine the “mamma mia” section of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” set to a Bulgarian wedding dance as played by Slayer and punctuated with a gaggle of vocal personal ads ranging from TV pitchmen to agitprop hucksters to death-metal growlers to a muezzin calling the faithful to prayer—basically, Gilbert and Sullivan at Ozzfest. Weird, right? Now imagine it selling five million copies.
Chris Norris, "Armenian Rhapsody"
The Faint's "Southern Belles in London Sing" is the best song I've heard in about a month. Get to yout iTunes.
Addendum: Motown Remixed is a pretty darn good record as well.
For those of you who don't know me personally, I work for a PBS/NPR station as operations manager. One of my offices is in the basement of a recently vacated science building (they moved to new, fancier, asbestos-free digs). One of the benifits of the recent move is that I got lots of free stuff. Gear to eBay, my TV, etc. Stuff they were just gonna junk.
Anyway, there's this one huge room near my office that's always locked, and it's been open recently, to facilitate moving more crap to the science building. So I think "Whee! More free stuff," and I take a peek.
A quarter million dead things.
No kidding. This room (essentially one really long hallway) is shadowed by a storage room, running its entire length, filled floor to ceiling with jars full of dead things. A quarter million dead things. Snakes, fish, fetal this, deformed that, pickled the other. We're talking an eighth of a mile of dead flesh and formaldehyde.
This explains so much about my job. Lotta bad juju.
Deloitte & Touche USA LLP needs a forensic asscountant. Really.
Seriously. Go to the dentist every six months. No matter what.
I am a full grown 270 pound man, and my ass was just on the floor, legs crossed, rocking back and forth and humming, in the hopes that it would ease the horrifying fucking pain in my mouth, while I waited for the six Advil I crushed with a spoon in a comic book polybag (it was the closest usable thing to hold the pills) to take effect.
13 more days to my first appointment! Ow.
Addendum: Vicodin sucks. All it does is make you feel unfoucused and crappy, and does nothing for pain. Vicodin and Advil, however...
Communism doesn't work because people like to own stuff.
Frank Zappa
The first EP from my band FunkaFeltaFish is now apparently being sold in Hong Kong by 2580 Club, who specialize in "Hip Hiop," "Pop," "R&B" and "Bock."
I'm very confused.
Are you the kind of person that says "Hey! There's just not enough remixed classic video game music out there! I need something to ease my suffering!"
I just spent 10 minutes watching George Neumayr (American Spectator) go off on the Newshour about how the "Liberal Monopoly" of public broadcasting has to be stopped. He spent a good half of his time on screen railing about Bill Moyers and Postcards from Buster, and how they're destroying America.
First of all, Moyers retired. Granted, Now (his show) has morphed into a new program with the same general driving ideas (at half the length), but no Moyers. On top of that, Now is half an hour out of 21 hours of PBS primetime.
Secondly, Postcards from Buster is not a lesbian sexfest. One episode out of the entire series has a kid on it, and that kid happened to have two mommies. So what. By the way, about 95% of PBS stations chose to not air it, after the stink that was raised (btw, most who were doing the stinking never saw it). Of course, it's not like 95% of PBS stations went off the air, as they had about a billion other episodes to pick from.
That's it. Moyers and an animated rabbit. That was his argument.
A couple of things:
Arthur - One of the best written children's shows anywhere.
Between the Lions - A close second.
Teletubbies - Yes it's stupid, but two year olds think it's awesome.
Cyberchase - Teaching math. Ooo. That's pure evil.
Zoom - It's Zoom.
Jakers, Dragon Tales, Berenstain Bears, Caillou, Maya & Miguel.
Sesame Street. Sesame. Street.
Nova
Nature
Frontline - The best documentary series in the history of television.
Independent Lens
Newshour
Great Performances
Mystery
American Masters
Religion & Ethics Newsweekly
Washington Week
Lawrence Welk
Wall Street Week with Fortune
McLaughlin Group
This Old House
Rick Steves' Europe
Austin City Limits
Mister Rogers' Neighborhood.
You heartless bastards.
Public broadcasting isn't one guy and one animated rabbit curious to learn about alternative lifestyles. Public broadcasting is something in the heart of generations of Americans in that little compartment that still remembers childhood. It's a family's chance to encourage one another to learn, without forcing it. It's a night at the Met for an old woman who doesn't have the money to fly to New York. It's fixing the shower a little better this time, having something different to eat at dinner, a song you just can't get out of your head.
It's a good thing, and I'm damn proud that I'm a part of it.
George Neumayr is cordially invited to wear my ass as a hat.
Le Building is a short awesome extremely manic little film. A must see.
Note: NSFW due to a tiny little part.
"A little baby bird fell out of a bird's nest nest he had," remembers [Specialist] Jesse [Dawson]. Saddam [Hussein] picked it up and threw it straight in the air. The guys all thought it was going to fall back down and go splat. But it spread its wings. "That was kinda neat."
Lisa DePaulo, "Tuesdays with Saddam"
1 military pace [double time] = 1,728 iron
1 milha [Portuguese] = 4,174.6 kind
1 city block [Midwest U.S.] = 3,516.9230769 kerat
1 royal foot = 0.1908806 smoot
1 X unit = 100,207,220,000.00002 yoctometer
Convert anything to anything at Online Conversion.
I didn't even know there was such a thing as a smoot.
Reading GQ (I know, I know, a great place to get government journalism), I ran across this:
"Alaska is set to recieve 2.2 Billion from the 2004 highway bill to build two bridges - one leading to a town of fifty people and a tiny airport (where there's already regular ferry service), and the other to a port housing just one guy."
What the fuck.
Brian McCarty's toy photos rock your lame ass. Make sure to check out Master Shake.
Found via the damnably good Boing Boing.
Edison Hate Future. NSFW.
Little boy #1: Hey! You get McDonald’s for breakfast too!
Little boy #2: Yeah! I’m getting pancakes! I thought I was never going to get pancakes again.
Little boy #1: How come? Your mom doesn’t make pancakes at home?
Little boy #2: No. I only get them here. And I didn’t think I was ever going to taste them again.
Little boy #1: How come?
Little boy #2*: Because after my little brother’s birthday party, my Mom said she’d rather take it up the ass than eat here ever again.
*Who, as he was being led back to a booth by his hysterically laughing mother, was fussing, “BUT I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!”
Get this: Bush plugged AmericaSupportsYou.mil on TV tonight. If you click "Order Lapel Pins," then click the pin, it takes you to a store. Under "Search," select "$0.00-$0.50" and click "GO." You will find the "Made in the USA Gift Store" for sale for $0.00. You can add it to your cart, check out, charge it, everything.
According to the site, "The Made in the USA Gift Store offers a brand new line of fine American keepsakes from C. Forbes Inc. An extensive collection of jewelry, fine china, books, framed art, and writing instruments and accessories - All Made in the U.S.A."
Not bad for $5.00 shipping.
This page contains all entries posted to LO2 in June 2005. They are listed from oldest to newest.
May 2005 is the previous archive.
July 2005 is the next archive.
Many more can be found on the main index page or by looking through the archives.
