Really? There's drugs that make you skinny? Or people who take certain ones sometimes ignore, say, for example... food? And [gasp!] there's people in Hollywood taking drugs? Golly, I'd have never guessed.
The irony is that the two magazines were right next to each other in the checkout, just waiting for me to take a picture.
Somebody fetch me my Pulitzer.
Yet another reason we loves the bike.
And the reckless girls.
And the outcast women.
Well, I fixed that squeaky cleat/pedal problem... not with skill or style or crafty solutions. Oh no, I fixed it by using the flat and flexible tool: the credit card.
I'm not sayin' that entry-level Look circa 1994 has anything wrong with it, but the cleats was gettin' a little wore out, some chunks busted out o' dem, and I swear thems was rattlin' a bit. (Damn, I've already got Kentucky creepin' in tuh me)
So I went for a ride, and golly if the SpeedCookie lollipops aren't a little more snug on the snap-in than the worn-out cleats I'd been riding on (why didn't I do this a year or two ago? Fucking hell, I must be lazy.) Positions might need a little tweaking (duh), but in general they work just fine. Hooray for SpeedPlay. Of course, the only color they had at the LBS was blue, and now I'm a little too blue on the bike for comfort. Blue frame, blue bar tape, blue pedals, blue helmet, blue jersey today, blue long-sleeves. I swear, I'm not fashion-focused... really, I'm not. But the blue thing has to stop.
Oh... and thank you Mr. Sunshine and Mrs. Blue Skies for being 62 degrees today. We will be happy to see you more and more in the coming months. Don't be a stranger. We likes you. We likes you lots.
I just decided this week that I need to get out of town.
Just for a while, a little bit, a jaunt.
Somewhere warm, please. Maybe some camping, take the bike, do some riding... find somewhere hilly and warm. Where is it warm? Somewhere close, somewhere I can drive. Somewhere I don't need to plan too much. I can sleep in my car if I need to, camp when I can, hotel if I must.
The weather people are telling me Kentucky. My National Parks annual pass is still good... what's in Kentucky? (other than moonshine stills, baseball bat factories, and inbred toothless wonders).
Mammoth Cave. So that's where I'm going. But I figured I should plan a little bit, and stopped by the library to look for guidebooks and the like. What I found is that I couldn't find the Kentucky section. It should be right *here*, dammit... so I look at the catalog, and lo and behold EVERY single travel book about Kentucky is checked out, and judging by the due date, checked out by the same person. Damn you, fellow Kentucky traveler. Don't you know that I don't plan ahead and you're messin' with my last-minute spur-of-the-moment plans? Grr.
Also known as "today's installment of Notable Quotables" - in this case from Stranger In A Strange Land... which was kind of a good thing to read. I'm a little aggravated with all the dystopic science fiction out there with post-apocalyptic whachamajiggers. SIASL isn't exactly utopia, but there's a utopian imagining to it.
On Art:
"Because the world has gone nutty and art always paints the spirit of the time. Rodin died about the time the world started flipping its lid. His successors... failed to see was that the master [Rodin] told stories that laid bare the human heart. They became contemptuous of painting of sculpture that told stories - they dubbed such work 'literary'. The went for all out abstractions."On Sex:
Jubal shrugged. "Abstract design is all right - for wallpaper or linoleum. But art is the process of evoking pity or terror. What modern artists do is pseudo-intellectual masturbation. Creative art is intercourse, in which the artist renders emotional his audience. These laddies who won't deign to do that - or can't - lost the public. The ordinary bloke will not buy 'art' that leaves him unmoved. If he does pay, the money is conned out of him, by taxes or such."
"Jubal, I've always wondered why I didn't give a hoot for art. I thought it was something missing in me."
"Mmm, one does have to learn to look at art. But it's up to the artist to use language that can be understood. Most of these jokers don't want to use language you and I can learn; they would rather sneer because we 'fail' to see what they are driving at. If anything, Obscurity is the refuge of incompetence."
"...the ethics of sex is a thorny problem. Each of us is forced to grope for a solution he can live with - in the face of a preposterous, unworkable, and evil code of so-called 'Morals.' Most of us know the code is wrong, almost everybody breaks it. But we pay Danegeld by feeling guilty and giving lip service. Willy-nilly, the code rides us, dead and stinking, an albatross around the neck."
"You too, Ben. You fancy yourself a free soul - and break that evil code. But faced with a problem in sexual ethics new to you, you tested it against that same Judeo-Christian code... so automatically your stomach did flip-flops... and you think that proves you're right and they're wrong... Sex should be a means of happiness. Ben, the worst thing about sex is that we use it to hurt each other. It ought never to hurt; it should bring happiness, or at least, pleasure."
"The code says, 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.' The result? Reluctant chastity, adultery, jealousy, bitterness, blows and sometimes murder, broken homes and twisted children - and furtive little passes degrading to woman and man. Is this Commandment ever obeyed? If a man swore on his own Bible that he refrained from coveting his neighbor's wife because the code forbade it, I would suspect either self-deception or subnormal sexuality. Any male virile enough to sire a child has coveted many women, whether he acts or not."
... I just footnoted¹ an email.
And this was just a friendly email to a friend. Granted, it was about legal ideas, but still. My parenthetical speaking/writing style has reached a certain level of horror now. Especially since i kind of like the idea of footnoting².
¹ ok, technically, they might be endnotes, but whatever.
² you can have clarifications, thus being accurate or complete, without destroying the rhythm of the sentence/argument/idea.
I have a rule about movies, and since I'm here, I'll be happy to share it with you, kind reader. It's called the Roth Rule. It all started when I noticed that there are some actors that just never seem to disappoint - no matter what the movie is about, and even if it's not in your preferred genre, if that actor has a significant role in the flick, it's usually pretty good. I'm talkin' Tim Roth, Edward Norton, Naomi Watts, Anthony Hopkins, etc... Either they're so skillful that they can buoy a movie up by their sheer genius, or that they somehow manage to choose to work only on films that are really good and turn out well.
Perhaps you see where this is going... I caught a stinker today. Tim Roth in Invincible. Sure, I'll accept that Zishe Breitbart was a hero to Polish Jews ever since his career as a strongman in pre-war Germany and Poland... but for cryin' out loud, the movie sucked. Terribly, terribly. Not a single person other than Roth could act worth a damn. You know how one bad actor can screw a scene up so badly that it pooches the whole movie? Imagine a cast of dozens, screwing it up constantly. Maybe it just shouldn't have been an english-language script. Maybe it just should have been in Polish or German. Then they wouldn't be as crappy on-screen. Nevertheless, you can safely ignore this movie, and I'll start re-constructing the Roth Rule to accomodate outliers. Thanks, and have a nice day.
I swear, I was not planning to get goofy yesterday. Really, I swear.
It all started so sedately... a little jaunt up to Brighton to hang out with Jake and Colleen and Tim and Mary up at Pete's brewery/bottling plant (what the hell is the place, anyway? it's not Local Color anymore, but the brands remain...). Knowing they were gonna be starting at 8:00 am, I took my time getting there and caught the down-slide late in the afternoon after all the gonzo fuck-yeahs would be blotto and passed out in corners (why doesn't urban dictionary have an entry for "fuck-yeahs"? not like I care enough to make one myself...). Hung around for a while, drank some beers, made some chitty-chat, took a survey and corrected my long-standing statistic that ~1/3 of people know their blood type (apparently just about everyone that goes to Pete's parties seems to know their blood type) had a difference of opinion with Col about the notion of a "couple", got beat down in some beery ping pong, yadda yadda... but ultimately wasn't exactly feelin' it, knowwhahumsayn?
So back to AA/Ypsi and to TC's to see a bunch o' bands and drink some chewier beer. (Sorry Pete, but ya needs ta work on making fuller beers... rounder on the tongue) Caught up with a buncha buncha folks there - the other Pete and Laura, Matt, Dave and Laura, (there's lots of Petes, lots of Lauras, lots of Jeffs on the roster these days), Andre, Stacey, Gerry, Georgina, Shannon... and had quite the fun time. The Ragbirds played, and damn if they ain't fun. For the record, and contrary to G's protestations, I am NOT a closeted hippie. Nor do I plan to embrace the "hippie within" or any such thing. I am all about the punkrockmusic, dude. Can't a boy just like a funky beat or a wheely boppy jig every now and then? (FWIW, since The Drovers ain't around no more, The Ragbirds are welcome to move into that empty musical spot I've had vacant in my ears for a while. Part of it might be the joy of the live show, but that's more than OK with me)
So yeah, in the bar, and some blond overly-happy smiley woman who needed group hugs all the time while we were over on the band side of the bar was kinda distracting (in a bad way) - I'm thinking she's another personal example to me why I keep my personal drugs limited to caffeine and alcohol. I can only imagine the horror I would sow if I was into x and started getting really friendly and aggressively huggy with random people - I get misinterpreted enough and a big dude like me grabbing people I don't know... just might get me a trip to the pokey. And the beer in lockup is really really bad (or so I hear). So yeah, and there was this other really REALLY yummy woman with the curly light-brown hair and the half-tattoo poking out under her shirt sleeve, boppin' and movin' around right there in front of the sound board, and I just couldn't take my eyes off her... ugh, I am SO kicking myself for not making a point of at least telling her how cute she is. And the tragedy of it is that she was there with/left with this dude who was so incredibly boring all night (yes, when one is locked-on and staring at pretty people, it's hard not to notice people they're with too). Fucking hell, I'm such a wuss.
So the bar's "please go home now" lights come on, and everybody goes over to Andre's house, where much hilarity and fun ensues. I never would have thought 5 people would have fit on that smallish couch... but if ya stack 'em right, anything's possible. ;) And Gerry got out the guitar and played some tunes, and Dave joined in, trading the guitar back and forth every couple songs with another guy (Sean? Steve?) until about 4:00. Quite the good time, what with the wine, the women, the song... a fine, fine time.
... until this morning when I woke up at 9:00 dehydrated like crazy. And so in a bizarro-groundhog-day type way, I showed to the MI DNR stewardship workday late, hungover, and a little grumpy from lack of sleep. But the fresh air and sunshine be good for me, and I'm all fresh and bubbly now. I just don't really understand why it is I manage to drink that little bit too much, and it's always on the nights before going out to work in the parks. Weird.
Anthony Bourdain guest blogs and tells us about Rachel Ray:
Complain all you want. It’s like railing against the pounding surf. She only grows stronger and more powerful. Her ear-shattering tones louder and louder. We KNOW she can’t cook. She shrewdly tells us so. So...what is she selling us? Really? She’s selling us satisfaction, the smug reassurance that mediocrity is quite enough. She’s a friendly, familiar face who appears regularly on our screens to tell us that “Even your dumb, lazy ass can cook this!” ... Where the saintly Julia Child sought to raise expectations... Rachael uses her strange and terrible powers to narcotize her public with her hypnotic mantra of Yummo and Evoo and Sammys. “You’re doing just fine. You don’t even have to chop an onion--you can buy it already chopped. Aspire to nothing…Just sit there. Have another Triscuit…Sleep….sleep….And along the same lines from this guy named (dis)pencer up in MSP:
you have to be one of cyclings "hardmen" to win the big spring classics.... looks like I'm in an unforgiving mood this afternoon, and ain't havin' none o' dat mediocrity goin' on.
you can't expect to survive if you are prone to falling down, or if you really enjoy disappointment and making excuses.
I just got out of a public forum/panel discussion at the library about the issue of HPV vaccine and legislation in Michigan for mandatory vaccination for 6th grade (11-12 year old) girls. While I respect that opinions, personal beliefs differ about vaccination, we're talking about literally A CURE FOR CANCER. (ok, a prevention, but still...)
The anti-science factions (and thanks to Dr. Timothy Johnson for specifically calling it what it is - which is a supernatural anti-science, anti-reason movement) that oppose vaccination neglect to notice that Polio is not longer an epidemic, and tetanus is no longer prevalent in the US. Some will ask "what's Merck's motivation, and aren't they just profiteering?" Yes, they are a company, and yes they need to make money. But I ask - what is the motivation of the anti-vaccine, anti-science crowd? To build a theocracy? I will be more than happy to deal with opposing a company - that's not scary. A country run by religious believers in the supernatural and lacking even the pretense of reason? That would DEFINITELY be scary.
They make their arguments about a vaccine that teenagers would get which might promote sexual activity... Hey, guess what - 77% of teenage girls under the age of 19 have had vaginal sex. And even if they're a virgin until their wedding night and maintain a monogamous relationship with their husband forever and ever, that doesn't mean that he hasn't been infected with HPV and could give it to her (resulting in her cervical cancer). Another applicable statistic: 80% of Americans, by the age of 50, are carrying some form of HPV around in their bodies. You, me, and those boys and girls over there. Think about that for a second. Oh yeah, and then there's the developing world, where even access to a pap smear is an issue. How many people are dying there that could be saved by a vaccine?
Starting off with my stellar move on Monday crashing on the ice rink and bashing my shoulder into the ice (which, it appears was not just going to hurt for a day - I'm grumpy in multiple little sessions every day this week when I do something that makes it hurt)... all the way to today when I showed up for the friday MatSE colloquium when it wasn't even scheduled for this week. (in my defense, it only took a couple of minutes, after being uncharacteristically early, of sitting in an empty hall to realize that no one else was coming). Oh yeah, and earlier today? What was I thinking... I went to a seminar in the physics department because it was titled "LHC Physics". You know, the LHC - that nifty thing at CERN. Uhm, I love Big Science, but post-graduate level high-energy particle physics? I was pretty much out of my depth by the second slide. Amazing how difficult some of those problems are by the sheer numbers - trying to detect one event in 10,000,000,000,000.
In between those events I'll include admitting to picking some stinkers at the Blow Out in Hamtramck on Thursday. The results of wanderings:
Harwell - uh, we were 2 people in an audience of 4 in this tiny bar. The other two were the sound guy and a girlfriend of band member. Seemed like a good idea when I was shopping for bands. The singer had issues though, and the music just wasn't as interesting as I originally thought.
Johnny No Stars - timing is everything... they're only doing 45 minute sets, so by the time we left Harwell and got to the other bar, they were done. Whoops.
The Red Shift - thought it would be some straight-ahead punk, but they were far more concerned with their punk cred and having the right punk/ska accessories (ties, spikey belts, Vans, etc.)
Broken Sunday - I wouldn't buy an album of theirs, but would probably see them live again. Their frontman had presence and charisma on stage, even though he was just this tiny little dude. Band had it together and the sound didn't suck, so the show was good, but the music could stand to be more interesting.
Heroic Villian - ah... this would be the straight-ahead punk I was looking for. Not something I can listen to for hours, but fun show. Lack of pretense on the band's part, and they seemed to be having a whole lot of fun. Bassist dude was pretty much over-the-top on his stage antic jumping around, so fun to watch too. Poorly-quoted Quote of the Evening would be from G: "so, how do you dance to this?" ... this, of course, is what you get when you take a jam-band-loving hippie to a punk rock show. :)
Wildcatting - Sort of a heavy rock version of an instrumental jam band...think of it as early-Rush/Yes meets Phish/Dead. Might have listened longer, but put getting tired with the smokiest bar, and it's a recipe for "hey, you want to get going?"
Been a while since I've watched Wallace & Gromit, but this afternoon was a screening of The Holey Trinity at the Michigan Theater with a preview cheese-tasting on your way into the theater. The cheese tasting was disappointing (really just a cheese-teasing, in my opinion). Nevertheless, I was there with Jeff & Jill & kids, and it was kinda cool that, for Aiden and Sadie's first-ever movie theater experience, they went to a theater that has a real live organist that plays before the movies, and an opera pit too. Of course, every movie after this for their entire lives will be cheap and tawdry after being introduced to the gilt ceilings and red velvet curtain of that historic building. Warren might have issues with the audio there, but luckily I've managed to see past that and my joy at the grandeur of the place is undiminished.
I'd make some sort of snide comment hassling people who are making snide comments (uh, that'd be me too) vs. people who work for change (i.e., if you think the audio sucks so bad... what are YOUR great ideas, hmm?), but I'm above that. Ok, no I'm not. I guess I shouldn't be too rude to the guy who educated me about three-point lighting (or "hair lighting" as it may be known in da biz) on Saturday. But yeah, I'm just gonna go ahead and be hassle-y.
Back to the toons... If you haven't seen the original Creature Comforts, it's available on YouTube here. Damn great stuff - the jaguar from Brazil being my favorite, but the turtle interview with the other turtle on the hamster wheel in the background is pretty funny too. There's a new Creature Comforts apparently coming to CBS (as a series?). And back to YouTube, there's another one with the comedy that is the tragedy of politicans here.
Let's not forget Shaun the Sheep, either.
In the interest of committing to something simply by the act of saying it, writing it down - here it is, a plan for the bike for 2007
It starts with a single event: the California Death Ride. 125 miles, 15,000 ft climbing 5 mountain passes. Hurrah. If Fred's thoughts on it aren't just manly bluster, there's a suggestion of doing it back-to-back the Sunday after... for a 250 mile 30,000 ft 10 pass weekend. That'd be pretty wacky. And along the way to that are the "training" events - Godzulla and some sort of cabin-camping, riding, training camp week long thingie in Wisconsin.
So those are the events - but the year long project-to-be (and I'm going out on a limb here) is to get licensed, and after doing time in races over the summer, get myself from a Cat 5 to a Cat 4. I've been in a few races over the years, I'm a competitive kind of guy, and so the only real challenge here (aside from those silly details like intentional instead of incidental fitness, skill refreshing, and staying away from crashfests in the 5 races) is getting organized and following the calendar I make for myself.
OK, there it is. The plan for 2007. Not much detail, but some high points to hit. Along the way I'll work on how it's shaped on a finer scale.
Haven't posted in a while - I guess there just hasn't been a whole lot going on that I want to post about. I didn't post a review of Beer Fest, but I'll get to that and just backdate the post (feels like cheating, but if I can bend time, that will lessen my pseudo-guilt about my perpetual tardiness). Went skating Wed. at lunch, thinking about going today... One thing on my wish list: how do you do a hockey stop? I'm not from "skating stock" - it's not part of my DNA. (but I'm a quick learner). It's just that there's something I feel I'm missing - do you curve into the stop like a french curve, jump into it, disconnecting from the ice and then chiseling, or do you skew off one foot and then bring the other around? Ah, one of these days I'll commit enough attention to it.
In the meantime, blah-dy-blah, whatever.
