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Showing posts from November, 2008

Notes on Seattle, November 28, 2008, Part I - The Eel & Chelz' Path to Enlightenment

One thing I forgot to mention yesterday: the relations did ply me with drink, as they did the same to themselves, though each to his/her own particular taste, and so I went to bed groggy Thanksgiving night from something else besides mere fatigue and the mythic (and silly) mega-dose of tryptophan. My brother Chris, who often goes by the self-given appellation "Eel," knows well of my predilection for the ol' gin and tonic, and when I arrived, I found that having such items on reserve coincided neatly with the fact that we would not be leaving the environs in any way for the evening. Such fortuity was not to be believed, but so it happened to be, and thus I did make way with a couple of rounds of my favorite spiritual mix.

Not surprisingly, given the way things tend to work for me, I woke up at my normal time Friday morning, or slightly before that "normal" time, really. And my head was fine. A little too much so it seemed, as I immediately began my usual course o…

Notes on Thanksgiving in Seattle, November 27, 2008 Pt. II

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Chris met me at the airport in a new disguise to my eyes: a full beard jutted out from his face, and it came equipped with a mustache almost dandily curled upward. I told him he looked a bit like Doug Martsch from Built to Spill (not really the mustache though, just the beard combined with my brother's overall features), and Chris says that Martsch hasn't had a beard for a while. Such trivial blather works as a comfort saying between us, not as any form of code but just the way we converse. Unlike with many families or siblings separated by distance, there is no awkward "getting to know you again" stuff between Mark and Chris and I when we get back together again. I cannot speak for the other two, but I know that I am my most at ease around either of them, even more so than with Jen, and especially more so than with any of my quartet of parents (but "no disrespect though," as Jon Stewart would say in a mock Bronxian tone).

Within minutes, we are in Chris'…

Notes on Thanksgiving in Seattle, November 27, 2008 Pt. I

Left on a jet plane (please cue my favorite song by PP&M -- written by Mr. Denver -- from when I was five) at noon to see Chris and Chelsea for Thanksgiving dinner later in the afternoon. They told me previously they were extremely excited to cook their first attempt at a Turkey day soiree -- at least they seemed excited on the phone. I don't really care what the result is... seeing them again is the important thing. I have decided that beginning next year, I am going to try to make two trips a year to see both Mark and Chris. Mark is easier because he is so much closer, but Seattle is close enough to not make it a difficult undertaking. The trick in taking multiple trips is getting Dad and Joann to understand how important it is to me to see my brothers, both emotionally and artistically. I do want to get up and see the parentals once a year as well, but all of this needs to come with the understanding that the other parties need to make the attempt to come down and see us i…

Why I Am Heading Out of Town for Thanksgiving Day...

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I thought Big G was done eating Steve on Halloween, but apparently it is a tradition in his family, and Steve's it seems, that extends across all holidays.

Just not safe at work sometimes, and I live pretty close to the office as well. Best to get out of town. Seattle, here I come!

The Bohemian Artifact Wing #2: Boog & Bear's Friday the 13th Marathon, Part 1

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It started as what seemed like a joke to me: “Hey, we should watch all of the Friday the 13th films in a row, back to back, all the way through!”

A long-running joke, that is... The statement above would bounce back and forth between myself (who, in this particular section of the Pylon, will usually referred to by my Bohemian alias “Boogieman” or, most often, “Boog” – nobody in Alaska calls me “Rik” or “Rik Tod”, not even in formal settings… alas…) and my pal of long standing, Robear (again, known as Robert to the general populace, but every Bohemian goes mainly by nicknames, sometimes piles of them). I thought for a while that it was mainly one of those time-filling “we should do this” sort of statements that friends toss about while lounging about on a dull afternoon, but of which none of the parties are ever truly concerned of committing and following through. I had always considered the Friday the 13th statement to be along those lines. But Robear was actually deadly serious about…

Dylan Goes Select-Rik: Shuffle Mode, Friday Morning 11.21.08

Isn’t the whole point of shuffle mode that you get a decently mixed selection of the music on your iPod, regardless of how many songs you actually have on your iPod? I understand if you have an iPod Shuffle with only enough room for a few dozen tunes and you end up the same artists (assuming you have multiple songs from the same artist on your Shuffle) over and over again. But I have 16,000-plus tunes, and possibly about a thousand full albums, jammed onto Ymir (the name of my particular iPod). So you'd think that my little metal monster would have no problem throwing down clear lines of division between similar artists. 

But… well... apparently not.

As you can see on the list below, in the space of seven songs, I end up with two each from the Davies brothers and the Johns – F. and L., respectively – and the iPod goes on like it had done its job properly and all that. Wait a minute, Ymir… didn’t I hit shuffle mode? And please don’t use the excuse that it's because I have so man…

Dylan Goes Select-Rik: Shuffle Mode, Thursday Morning 11.20.08

Normally, the aural pathway on which I tread is paved solely with albums, and generally those of a single artist, but every once in a while, contrary to my nature, I need a little variety on the headphones. So it goes occasionally on my morning walks to work, on those rare days when I just can’t decide which album to give a listen. So I hit the ol’ Shuffle Mode, and roll with whatever hits the ears. Sure, sometimes I get a little shocked by what I hear: “Do I really have that on my iPod, let alone my collection?” or “What the hell is this???” When you have crammed over 16,000 songs onto an iPod (and it will get worse when I jump up to 160 gigs from a mere 80), you can often get lost in the mass of artists and albums. Especially when you drop on compilations or soundtracks, which you probably purchased for three or four songs at most, and you have never really become all that acquainted with the rest. Sometimes these surprises are grand, and sometimes they are a sign that you have a li…

Kir, Keeper of the Histories, presents - The Bohemian Artifact Wing #1: The Scribblings of the Nuncle

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Know, O Polliwogs, that there once existed a time, long before you wasted away your own lives in misplaced worry and fruitless excess, from whence there sprang a race of beings known (somewhat ironically, in some cases) as the Bohemians. Clad in armor forged from the freezing winds of the remote Alaskan frontier, these Bohemians thrived in a time which, coincidentally, ran concurrently in the same general area as a certain recent vice-presidential loser. Whether their paths crossed hers at any given time is lost to the mists of time, and perhaps because of this, it was a time of youthful frivolity, though the blitheness of their manner was balanced overall with a passionate love and extraordinarily strong work ethic regarding the theatre. It was a time of staging fights in malls, skipping school in costume, and swiping towering piles of Pennysavers for no decent reason except to just do it. It was a time of hiding from people nicknamed Larry. It was a time of waving pots and pans at p…

"Their world crumbled. The cities exploded. A whirlwind of looting, a firestorm of fear. Men began to feed upon men..."

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UPDATED TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2008 (See note at bottom of post*)

We should all wake up to a blue sky. Or at least the prospect of a blue sky dawning, should the sky happen to be dark with clouds on that day.

I thought the sky was just dark with clouds on Saturday.

I had looked out of our living room window on sporadic occasions throughout Saturday morning, and had just thought it was going to rain at some point. I noticed the wind was whipping up to enormous gusts here and there, and figured we were in for a crazy storm. Into the afternoon, with Jen arising for the day, we configured a plan to take the recycling out and then head to the Cinema City Theatres for a hopefully comedic double feature of Kevin Smith's Zack and Miri Make A Porno (you'll see no pussyfooting around that title here, pun intended) and Paul Rudd's Role Models. And then some light shopping for household necessities.

And then I stepped outside. There was an acrid taste to the air, and I noticed that the sid…

Crawling From the Wreckage: Tape #779

Commander USA's Groovie Movies
featuring:
Doctor Dracula (1978)
2 hours, 1989, USA Network w/ads

The movie on this tape is not important. In fact, I was seriously toying with just throwing away Tape #779 because I had no interest in keeping Al Adamson's Doctor Dracula in my collection, and absolutely no attempt to even look up the film for potential DVD purchase had been considered on my part. Certainly the film is such a trainwreck that there is a certain fascination regarding it, as there is with most truly pathetic films, and I will own up that this is why it is in my collection. But paying money for it? Unless there were something else built around it to make it worthwhile, like on an Elvira or MST3K disc, I doubt that I would.

But while I was going through my tapes, I started to wonder why I taped Doctor Dracula in the first place. It was so long ago, and such a while since I had watched Tape #779, that I had quite forgotten its origins. And then I started to wonder if perhap…

REVIEW... REVIEW... REVIEW... REVIEW... REVIEW... Spout Mavens Disc #15 (and likely, the last): More Shoes... REVIEW... REVIEW... REVIEW... REVIEW...

More Shoes
Director: Lee Kazimir
Cinema 4 Rating: 6

I've been asked to recommend a film either at the top or bottom of this post, which isn't actually a review, though many people still insist on referring to these pieces I construct as reviews. All the same, I have also been asked to place the word "review" into the title. It was rough going, trying to find the exact spot to place that (used erroneously here) noun, but I hope I have at least been able to follow through properly by some small measure on that count.

As for that recommendation... well... let me ask you one small question: Do I know you? Apart from one other person here on Spout, The Working Dead, I don’t personally know any of you. Yes, a handful of people on here have left some very nice comments regarding my writing, and I am sure some of them would make great friends, but I still can’t know someone from just a quick comment or two. It makes it hard to recommend anything if one does not personally know t…

Crawling from the Wreckage: Prepending a Prologue?

You will find below, my friends, the contents of a post that I wrote just shy of a year ago, which I was using as a prologue to a new project, which I was then supposedly undertaking as part of my attempt to go through the massive pile of garbage that had been dumped into our abode just a month before. The attempt has continued through the year that followed, but the project went astray. The point was to go through what remained of my old VHS collection, cherry-pick a handful of interesting tapes that I had recorded years ago, and then re-watch them, sometimes for the first time in eons.

Circumstances have changed, the pile has lessened somewhat, and it just happens to turn out that I am now at that juncture where it is imperative that I do such a project. I am currently going through each tape and determining that which is now on disc since I moved three years ago, and that which stubbornly remains obscure or missing to this erstwhile DVD aficionado. We would like to get a few more o…

Chapter 427: In which our hero whines and whines about something that no one put a gun to his head to do (it may have been a better option, though...)

For two of the last three Halloweens – the count of said holiday celebrations, up until last Friday, since I moved here in 2005 – I have spent my evening hours in the comforting arms of Disneyland. Not having my old network of friends here has greatly reduced my chances of hitting a Halloween party, and thus, costuming has become a non-factor and I have fallen into merely going to some appropriately decorated environs and enjoying the evening riding some rides, watching the parade, looking at pumpkins and getting a kick out of the variety of costumes on display from the younger denizens of the park. I usually make a goal of riding a full set of what I call “the skeleton rides” – Pirates of the Caribbean, Indiana Jones, the Jungle Cruise, the Haunted Mansion and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad – any ride that has a skeleton or at least a skull on display, of the three-dimensional variety only, somewhere in the attraction (Peter Pan’s Flight does not count, even though the ol’ skull-and-c…

Parallax