breakup letter to iMesh

Dear iMesh,


I wrote this to you to tell you that this just isn't working out. I know we got off to a great start, and before we even knew it, we got to the peak of our relationship. I would ask for a song, you would get it, and you wouldn't give me the bullshit "COPYRIGHT" warning that you did with certain, obviously illegal, copies of songs. It didn't take long for us to completely forget about that pesky pirating thing and things were perfect. But, baby, things change.

When you made all of the awesome songs that I had inaccessible because of "License Required", I felt hurt. No longer can I hear "Oh I Think Dey Like Me Remix Ft. Jermaine Dupri" without popups and skipping to the next song. What happened to us? It's like you don't even know me anymore, God knows I don't know you. It seems like you only listen to that bastard, RIAA now. You don't even hear me. You're not listening right now, are you?! What happened to the application that I love. If I were an unrealistic, profit-oriented agency, then would you listen to me? Well maybe you can get the RIAA to make you breakfast, you son of a bitch. Shit.

OK, I'm sorry, let me finish. I just want to say, don't be mad. Don't hate me for doing this. Someday you'll find someone else, somebody you can fuck over just like you did me, and you're gonna be happy. You're gonna be just fine, OK? We can still be friends and soon you're gonna forget about silly ol' me. Heck, I hear about you all the time! What choice do I have? Ha ha! See? You're smiling. Hey. HEY. Look at me. . . There you go.

Well, thanks for what we had. It was beautiful once, but it's time to move on.

Sincerely,

Hank

your input, whoever you are.

Is it relatively safe to use these "release candidates" for Firefox? I don't see how much improvement could be done to the application, but I do know that I'm hesitant to put anything to further destabilize my computer, so if you know anything about this, please post a comment.

band review: Blasticus S.S. Blastica

A friend of mine, Wes, is a person who is instinctively a rock star. He intrinsically throws out the air guitar and screams things like "FREEEOW YOW YEAH!" So what choice did I have when he told me that his band would be playing the day after Thanksgiving? A person of this calibur of rockingness is, without a doubt, a show in himself.

Before them was a band with some name like EverFold or EverKind or some shit like that. The lead singer was stocky and tried desperately to sound like Green Day. Oh, and he tried to rock and failed. These people did not rock and brought shame to the verb.

Then Blasticus S.S. Blastica showed up and things were different. People actually approached the stage and danced when they came up. Even through they were projecting DVD extras from "Titan A.E." behind the band, they still played some pretty cool stuff. Their sound wasn't unlike Primus, not silly but somewhat unorthodox. They were instrumental, so the songs were continuously occupied by some kind of solo or well-pressed line of musical dialogue.

Their solos were really pretty good too. Their bassist seemed well versed in his trade, and Wes rocked pretty hard too. The production guy sucked and fucked up the frequencies between Wes's transitions from distortions and regular (sorry, I don't know the terms. so sue me.), making some of his lower range non-discernable to the ear. That and one could tell he sucked at life otherwise by all of the recorded between-band music. He'd play something like Limp Bizkit and walk in beat with it, making his oh-fuck-yeah-this-shit-is-awesome kind of thug face. What a bitch.

They played a song called The Pirate Song which was terrific. I wish I could put a soundbyte of it up here, but the gist is that it reminds one of pirates going around on a creaky boat, pillaging and kicking ass. It is unpredictable, fun, and cool. You'd like it.

In short, I'm going to get one of their t-shirts because that is what I consider my greatest compliment to a band. The only other bands which I would get t-shirts for are Boards of Canada, Radiohead, Morcheeba, Beck, and Necrosatanica*, so Blasticus S.S. Blastica is joining a worthy crew. Check them out.





*The death metal band I was in during high school. We rocked six hundered and sixty six times harder than any other band in existence. I played electric triangle (I think), but never really showed up for practice much, so I just sort of beat-boxed and fell into sync with the others. Our first release, Neopentagramiticon, was quite delightful. Since then, there have been a few reunions including one very prolific one, so if any former band members are out there we should arrange another one soon.

food glorious food

People will go to great lengths to get food. They will go to even further lengths to get cheap, slightly tainted food at discount prices. This demand for bargains and price blowouts is as innate as our protective and sexual instincts, something that anthropologists have documented since man's origins. I like to think it is synonomous with scavenging. Some may consider this the action of an "omega" personality (opposite of "alpha", where one would be picking up leftovers of others in the group or foraging and barely getting by), but I think it is the action of awesomeness.

This is why I love the UGO. Not read "You, go!", it stands for the United Grocery Outlet found in Crossville, Tennessee. Wonder what happens to the food in the back of those wrecked trucks on the interstate? Wonder what happens to those runt cattle or the dogs that never shut up? Wonder what happens to all of those kids they can't get anybody to adopt? How about all of the conditioner that people never buy or that was stolen to sell for cocaine? Well wonder no more.

Their meat is cheap. It most certainly comes from the previously mentioned sources, or is black market god knows what. This place is one, at most two steps above dumpster diving, which I am not above trying. Organic food is expensive but worth it when you can get it. The organic food store in Knoxville is supposed to be a pretty good place to dumpster dive, because they throw away excess dried legumes and other stuff that is non-perishable, therein remaining pretty safe. I'm afraid it isn't already someone's turf. So if any of them motherfuckin' hobos want to rumble again, I'm bout it bout it.

With discount meat, cereal, frozen shrimp, generic anything (yes even cheaper than before), loud Mexican children, and more stale chips than you can shake a stick at, the UGO has it all. They even have a kid in the front of the store who depressingly plays fiddle for money*. What more could you ask for? Really, answer me that. I dare you.






*The kid plays Rocky Top like a pro and avoids gospel music. This is cool because he isn't selling out to the Christian ethos and getting cash for playing certain hymns/religious songs. Also, Rocky Top is cool because, um, it just is.

i need help

finding out more about teaching English abroad. If there is a way to do this for a 6-7 month term, that's the one I need, and if I can do it without spending $5,000, that'd be cool, too.

shaba daba hoo ha dibby bibby bop

The other day I got the inclination to look for the best trip-hop albums that there were, because

1. All of the new music I was listening to that I really liked was stuff that I found out later to be labeled "trip-hop" and
2. I figured that somebody else, whose opinions were accessible via the Internet, was a greater authority on the subject and could point me to some sources of aural contentment.

Jesus Christ, was that a good idea.

But before I go on, I need to clarify something. "Trip-hop" is a pretty lame moniker, but is the one that the powers-at-be (possibly some stoner German DJs from 1994) have labeled it. I'd say it's something more suitable, a word that sounded like "oogashamanow" or "boppitydamnskip". Naming things in a manner similar to singing in skat is pretty fun, I should do that more often. Hey! How about the title? Whee!

Moving on...Since then I have found a multitude of the best music I've heard. Putting on my headphones, I fit into this music like a glove (why yes, I am poetic, thank you). It is right-brained, groovy, creative and chill. An aspect that is nearly required for the genre is a sultry female vocalist, which turns up the sex level to 11. Some groups sample more than others, some incorporate hip-hoppy beats than others, some are minimalist, some suck. Hank wouldn't lie about this, so here are some that do not suck:

Morcheeba
Portishead
Thievery Corporation
Massive Attack

Finally, though they aren't described by the formentioned genre, Boards of Canada is the most right-brained assembly of music you will ever hear. If circadian rhythms had a sound, it would be Boards of Canada. They rule so hard that I'm going to get their t-shirt. There are other groups that are decent, but that I'm not convinced of yet, so I'm not mentioning them. Why? Only the best for my readers. My helpings are hefty, not hasty.

wherein i exercise my right to use asterisks and cross references to neurostimulants

Today I picked up a highly recommended book from the library. It took a long time, since the English Literature section had been recently reorganized, but it looks like it will be worth it nonetheless. I searched and searched through the stacks, moving around people "studying" in groups and in carrels.* Amid other stupids who can't write their way out of a paper bag was the Wodehouse, all grajillion things he wrote. And slightly pulled out from the rest, standing a little taller, and with a bright blue cover, was Cocktail Time. I opened it and found that the pages were well worn and dog-eared, and knew that this copy had been enjoyed by someone . It even had the classic book smell which made me smile. Books do not easily attain an ethos, at least as far as I know, but this book had one.

Other books that I know have such a quality are ones that I already know the history of and know for sure how terrific they are. They are mainly Richard Scarry and Where's Waldo books from when I was a kid, as well as some one hit wonders like Wind in the Willows, Millions of Cats, Dinotopia (the others weren't as good as the first, accept it), the Childcraft Encyclopedia volume about bigfoot and other mysterious UFOs and stuff, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark 1-3, Garfield, Calvin and Hobbes, and anything else I could find to freak myself out or pacify myself. Looking back, I had good taste in literature as a kid.

So I step down and yield the soapbox to you: what's your favorite childhood book?



*Hodges library is pretty stupid, for the most part. Accomplishing anything in there is like studying in a WWE arena complete with lasers, fog, and rockem' sockem' extravaganzas. People ignore any rules regarding respect and noise pollution. The only thing it is good for is stopping through to check your e-mail, getting Starbucks coffee**, or meeting for a group presentation. I like to people-watch and know the spots around town to do this. They also happen to be the best places to meet women. They are the park and the coffee shop. Go now, because if you don't I will.


** (*) Starbucks is brewed by Lucifer himself. On top of being a highly prolific, caramel glazed, cream covered conglomerate, it also chocks its coffee full of caffiene. How much you ask? A "grande" (ooh, Italian! Mama mia!) cup of coffee has roughly 600 mg of caffeine in it. I know what you're thinking: "Awesome". But that's too much because it quickly desensitizes your nervous system to the substance so you have to have more to have the same effect. Moderation makes it work, National Geographic doesn't lie. So fuck you, Starbucks.

(*) Can you asterisk under another asterisk? I'm not sure, nor do I know that even this reference is down with the MLA. Tough shit because I'm a rebel who don't take too kindly to rules, whores.

random

1. When I went into a bathroom stall today, I noticed the usual territorial markers, senseless insults, and offers for sexual satisfaction on the walls. But on the toilet was the brand name "AMERICAN STANDARD" written in gray near the handle. When I pressed the handle, it flushed with an excess of noise and water, a ten second vortex of obnoxious stupidness. Does this say that we Americans suck at making toilets, or is it trying to pay homage to our internationally recognized and immutably loathsome personality and culture?

2. Nascar's big man gets a huge suspension for a traffic infraction, while it took a congressional kick in the ass to get baseball to actually do something to big galoots who do drugs and give a bad name to role models in this country. I say: yay, nascar; I might get around to being interested in you some day, after a lobotomy or something. Sure you just drive cars, but you have some kind of solid ethics system that apparently doesn't fuck around.

3. The songs I find stuck in my head every day are best described as "stupid". Examples being the Stella theme song, Message To You Rudie, and Camel Walk. Am I stupid? That or maybe my brain is just so big that I have to purge it throughout the day with random bullshit.

4. Idealogues plagued campus today, spreading faster than the avian bird flu through a crowd of chinks. Dick Cheney came to dedicate something that politicians would dedicate, and one of UT's finest street preachers was out in a plaza. Both men drew impressive crowds and impressive jeers from the people. When people did this to Cheney, they got kicked out. When people did it to the street preacher, it was because his analogy involving an extension cord had gone wrong and he forgot his line. I felt kind of the sorry for the guy (the preacher, not the VP), but then I remembered he was telling me what to think and I pointed and laughed. Dick.

Congratulations to those of you who have just been accepted to medical school (you know who you are).

somebody smack Nathan Lane

I opened up the NY Times webpage and the first thing I saw was this picture:



Nathan Lane is so goddamned annoying I can hardly stand it. When he isn't prancing around, he has a simply precocious little grin all the time, as if to say "Oh posh, what mischief shall I get into next?"





Nathan, I bid you a big Hakuna Matata (that's "no worries" in case you've forgotten), because you'll have plenty of worries when your schmucky flamboyance loses its popularity. But hopefully you will have taken up as a dominatrix or transvestite by then. Good luck, buddy.

you don't get this in molecular biology

I'm currently taking a class called Writing Fiction Workshop. In it, we all write short stories, and then everybody else workshops it and tells stuff that could be done to make it better. So far, I've been pretty impressed with some of them, especially compared to my last English writing workshop course. Most of the stories in it read as follows:


Josh and I went out behind the shed and smoked some pot. It was awesome. Then, the cops came by and we ran into the woods. That night, Chris and Matt showed up with some beer, and we drank it in the high school parking lot. It was awesome.


So you can see how it isn't hard to improve upon this. My current class, as good as it is, has included some real stinkeroos as of late. The stinkiest of the stinkerellis is one called "Him", which was a ghost story (the only one for a reason) about a kid going to a haunted mental hospital and contracting a ghost that makes him kill everybody. It uses lots of exclamation marks! and makes obvious that the ghost is shouting at everything! and leaves nothing to the imagination! It features characters named Officer Dave and Officer Marty, police who do nothing at all besides get in the way of the killer's mysterious rampage.



The story finishes in a foreshadowing tone wherein the murderous ghost moves into the useless narrator. Is this a sequel I smell?

I got up and looked around. No face, Yes! Then I heard it, "I am here with you know Maggie! Your brother was bad; will you listen?"