Good Time

Thu.03.30.00.23.12

I've been listening to Brokeback , Tortoise, Beck, Handsome Boy Modeling School, Mogwai, and my friend David Fox's new disc, soon to be available from Ion Records. I'll type more about his music in the future.

Today I was in Boston playing pool and skee ball at a giant arcade-bar-Keno-greasy-spoon-dive. It was in Charlestown, actually, and chock full of townies, high school students and trashy women looking to pick up dates. Unfortunately, I neglected to bring my camera. It's too bad, too, because the guy working the front register had one hell of a mullet. Impressive. I mean, Yowza! The place was a wicked huge warehouse, and while I was inside I forgot about daylight. Boston looked great, moving and shaking with the usual midweek spring-time traffic and construction. They just don't know how to build cities out west, I tell you. Now that I'm a worldy gentleman, I can say these sorts of things.

While we're on the subject, what the fuck am I doing? What's the plan, kiddo? I love visiting and staying with my wonderful generous friends--I wish I could travel around forever. Who doesn't? But I'm poor. And who isn't? I have friends and family, small accomplishments and possessions to keep me happy.... I'm in control, and very stable. No mistakes, no regrets. Believe you me. And boy, do I know a lot of stuff. I know about the English language, and music, and drama, and Fine Literature, and physics, and comedy, and photography, and love. I know so much, in fact, that sometimes I just sit around and feel superior to people. Even people that I'm close to. I'll read some of a friend's prose, or listen to an original song, and I'll actually sit and take a moment of pride in the fact that I know I can do better. I disgust myself. Because I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING. I HAVE LITTLE OR NOTHING TO SHOW FOR ALL OF THESE SMARTS AND TRAVELS. I have words and some pretty pictures. But I want to do something large.

Today, I received the following message from a man named Jeffery Barbee Bernhard, as submitted to the to the Reverse page of the Project Omni site:

i work as a equities trader on the stock exchange in ny. this is the funniest site on the net. we, the traders cannot believe the talent put into this site and this guy could be designing web sites for a major company and this is what he puts his talents toward. the traders and i read this story during the crash today and laughed so hard we cried. we would like to donate a large bread truck or old military vehicle to you so you guys can come back together for a reunion...

Finally, the Omni crashes into Wall Street.
You better believe it, baby: we're going corporate.

Coffee and Crayons.

Fri.03.31.00.11.18

It's a Friday Morning with fine weather and I took a drive downtown and visited the post office and bought a cup of coffee and drove back. The cozy main street area of Plymouth has shops and pretty historic buidings and a big cemetary, and a rather large stone church, one of the oldest in the country. This church has a small marquee in front of it, and every couple of weeks the message changes. Today it read:

We are like plants who have the one choice to be in or out of the light.

That got me thinking the usual thoughts that I think when I see an overtly Christian statement, but then I started to get curious about the specifics of Christian doctrine. Is it necessary to make a formal declaration of belief and faith in Christ in order to be Christian? Is it possible to enter heaven without ever praying to God or Jesus? Perhaps individual sects would respond differently to these questions. If I'm living the life a good Christian might live, full of selfless giving, good works, and moral behavior, will I be saved? Christianity and mysticism don't seem to mix well; western religions generally require awe of great forces, all or nothing. But I wonder if undying faith in the power of life, in the breadth of the world around us, and in goodness itself qualifies as "light" in the passage above. I at least ought to know the Catholic position on this stuff. If anyone can offer a response or suggest a place to look, please let me know. Does a Christian have to actively love Christ? Is it impossible to follow the teachings without knowing the teacher? Questions.

I know that Constructor has been blogged like crazy in the past couple of weeks, but I can't resist, because it's dope beyond belief. I had no idea that web sites could do stuff like this. I can't even figure out how to animate my own constructions, but I'm perfectly satisfied playing with the pre-fabbed creatures. And the Soda Homepage itself has the coolest navigation menu I have ever seen, with its crazy circular orbits. Wow.

I'll be listening to My Bloody Valentine for a long, long time.

Who Stole the Soul?

Tue.03.28.00.14.51

All right, I'm offically and formally back. Put me back on your daily hit list. It's been kinda cold and dark and wet out today, but now it's brighter and I've been listening to Public Enemy and an energetic local Boston band called Babaloo. I'm feeling strong. I'm eating cornbread that I made last night. I'm slipping back into home life and I'm regrouping my thoughts and my wants and making plans. Schematics. Blueprints on file. I can't wait for April. I think I might publish a little list of the reasons April kicks so much ass. I also have some photographs of my Caribbean vacation and of my little cross-country drive to package and post. I think I'll just couple a few of the best with scribblings of memories caption-commentary. There's a couple pictures from that drive on the side bar right now.

So much to do. So little rhyme. It was refreshing, in a way, to take a three week break from the world of web logging, because it gave me a chance to catch my breath and remind meself about the beauty and community out in the real world. But I regret missing all the fun at SXSW and losing touch with some of the blogs. I need to get me one of those new Blogger tee shirts. And I need to get me a job. I'm getting the feeling that a career is about to fall into my lap, like it's sitting right next to me. Life sure was easier before I graduated college. Did I tell you? I'm going gray. The hair behind my ears is quickly losing hue. It's actually changing color. I'm truly wise beyond my years. This isn't a joke. But it is funny. I've never been scared to grow old, though.

According to today's Yahoo Chart, only 9.7 percent of those polled felt that sexual fulfillment could be found online. Hey, if the other 90 percent of you aint interested, fine. More porn for me, suckers!

Spring Forward.

Mon.03.27.02.36

I spent plenty of time with my good friend and longtime next-door-neighbor Erik today. We raked his lawn in the evening sun. I'm a sucker for good lighting. When the Oscars began, we drove downtown, picked up some coffee at Dunkies, and took a little stroll around the Plymouth waterfront, talking about racism and cultural identity. The air was cool, and the town was empty. We drove back to his house as the discussion turned toward education and politics. It was one of those multiple cigarette talks. The TV kept making noise in th next room, but I wasn't listening.

Home. Sweet Home.

Sat.03.25.00.12.12

It's good to be back in Massachusetts where spring is in the air and my swing is in the backyard, swaying surrounded soft-lit sentiment chasing so long miles and miles people to see. I need you. Phoenix Flagstaff Albuquerque this Motel 6 that motel sixfoot straight shot empty, hip-hop desert dusting of transcontentment skin head shake leaving arriving Oklahomeward canyoning via McDonalds unattached smoke love go I gas it up cold-coming archway gate Indianapolis Chad tape-recorded supple fingers stare zone nap got a speeding ticket stop coming to get you stop can you believe it's still me stop I miss meatspace stop her family is wonderful stop. Brown eyes. Sigh. Yes, just like that.

I was in Times Square on Tuesday at 3 pm, just in time to see thousands of screaming and crying teenagers standing behind barriers hoping to catch a glimpse of 'NSYNC up in MTV studios, on Total Request Live, and I stood in the middle of it all listening to Modest Mouse on my cd player and I started laughcrying out one of those big, unclassifiable feelings, and I sat down with my legs crossed until a cop asked me to "keep moving".

As if I wasn't already going a thousand feet per second.
my goodness there sure is plenty for me to type be patient with me

Girl, Potato Salad, Mid-day Sun.

Mon.03.13.00.22.23

My Caribbean getaway was simply fabulous, as a vacation ought to be when daddy lays down something like 5,000 dollars. And after a ferry ride, a taxi ride, and two flights featuring The Bachelor, possibly the worst movie of ALL TIME, I arrived back in sunny honey Phoenix to the warm welcome of Joshua. We went to Hooters. Don't ask.

That was Saturday. Yesterday I picked up Kariann from the airport, and we've been having a ball of a time ever since. I've been packing up the car, and tomorrow we're heading north towards the Grand Canyon and then making our casual way back to the northeast. No more of this hell-for-leather cross-country in 48 hours jive. My only regret is that I wont be able to reach Austin in time to meet all of my weblogging friends in the real world. Hopefully I'll get to SXSW next year. In the meantime, I've been looking at all of Matt's photos from the festival, which are making me sad and jealous. Everyone I've been wanting to meet is there. But luckily, I have a wonderful girl with me. We made potato salad today. Hoo-dog. So I will be on the road for the next week, with no updates until I settle down back home in Massachusetts. Punk rock.

I'm Back.

Sun.03.12.00.02.12

Did you miss me? I didn't. And tomorrow I'm leaving again.

Tall Boy Takes Trip.

Fri.03.03.00.20.20

The Return of Bush: The light of God, or the light of the mothership?
You be the judge.

Congratulations to Cassandra, who solved the Secret Riddle of The Day that I posted about, like, two weeks ago. Indeed, I broke into my own car by tying a piece of a plastic bag into a slipknot, attaching it to the metal from a hanging file, and looping it around the door lock post. Cassandra wins her own personal website, which I will pack full of fabricated biographical info and lame links using a long outdated version of Netscape Composer. That is, when I get around to it.

In three hours I will be on a plane, (albeit a plane operated by "America West") far, far away from here. I worked my last day of work at the office today, and I'm ready for a Sex on The Beach with one of those little paper umbrellas. I love Those Things! I'll be back next Saturday. And while I'm walking across the warm sands of the Virgin Islands, I will reflect on this past month and try to remember what my life was like before sixfoot6 took over. I seem to remember nice people around a bunch of the time... sometimes we would "go outside" together. Talk about stuff. There was someone named "Mom". Yeah, it sounds weird to me too.

Oh, and please accept my going away present: here are thirty-six photographs of Phoenix, taken during the past two months. And not a snapshot among them.

Begin The Begin.

Thu.03.02.00.00.29

Congratulations. You made it all the way through Februray, mostly unscathed. Even with that crazy extra day, you survived, and for that, I applaud you. It's a good thing you were following my advice, eh?

Ninety-year-old Doris "Granny D" Haddock just finished walking from California to Washington D.C. to raise awarenes and support for campign finance reform. Her site is worth a visit; particularly, I found the words she spoke yesterday on the steps of the U.S. Capitol building to be both convincing and emotionally moving. For a long time, I haven't considered policy-making very important, for some reason. Somehow, I've always imagined that art and literature will save the world. But it's going to take more than ideas to change the role that finance has in contemporary politics. We need legal limitations. And I'll do whatever Granny D wants, because she just walked across the continent.

I'm glad to see that my homeboy Jack Saturn and I are on the same wavelength when it comes to content. I think that because so many of the people who post to theri sites regularly are web designers, it's not surprising that stuff like the recent Amazon patent thing gets so much attention. I think Amazon sucks, too, but I'd rather talk about other things that really affect our lives--or at least, that affect my life and the lives of pretty fashion models. Jack's right: chatting about the process is getting lame. It's hard to avoid, though, because of the way things catch on, and the way technology changes quickly.

I received two emails in response to yesterday's post from the owners of two brand new weblogs. Raza of High Industrial made a breif mention of yesterday's elementary school shooting in one of his first posts. And Luke's Site O' Stuff promises to deal with religion, because it appears to be the first self-declared Christian blog. I hope these boys will hop on the Content Train and show us something fresh.

On the way home from work today I stopped by the Metro Center mall, and walked around looking for a bookstore. I fellt uncomfortable and out of place, and suddenly I realized that the mall visit was my first dose of popular consumer culture in a whole month. Joshua and I don't own a television, and I'd like to keep it that way, because it's scary out there. And besides, I don't have much money to spend.

Oh, Bollocks.

Thu.03.02.00.18.53

I exeeded my disk quota again, so things have been a bit messed up around here, but not to worry, not to worry--I have solved the problem. I had to temporarily take down some of the Photos section, but I left up most of the good stuff. My apologies to anyone who emailed me and got their message shoved back in their face. Everything should be behaving now. Some day I'll pay Dreamhost for some more space. To make up for my sins, I offer you connections to the following stuff:

My friend Andrew sent me over to Hessian Love, a page which documents the true efforts of real metaldudes answering a fake metal-chick classified ad.. It is both hilarious and sad. You can also find some of these unkempt fellows over at Mullets Galore, an exceedingly comprehensive look at the world of hockey-hair. It's good for both amusement and research.

Zannah is brilliant when it comes to mocking Microsoft,
but in contrast, The Onion really isn't funny at all.

I'm leaving for a week's vacation with my family in the U.S. Virgin Islands tomorrow night, so I'm preparing a going away present for you all. Don't think I've fallen off of the Content Caboose, or anything.

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