1.31.2001

Lest We are Accused of Slacking

In Lieu of updates, today we break from lengthy posts to bring you two (count 'em!) new perma-links:
  • Look to the left, there, in the lovely midnight blue sidebar, for something called Reruns, where we're keeping all of those lovely blogs formerly highlighted in these pages. Figured we'd spare you (and us, for that matter) the trouble of having to scroll through these posts to find stuff you liked. You're welcome!

  • Also to the left, there, find a Message Board of Our Very Own, where you may now send your thoughts, comments, criticisms and suggestions. The Band looks forward to hearing from you. Have fun, and remember to play nice.

1.30.2001

RTI: Remember the "Millenium Bug"??

[If you've been following along, Dear Reader, you'll recall that RTI is a New Feature in these here pages -- short for "real-time interruption," this periodic feature will be some reality-based essay, rant or ramble. -- Ed.]

So, I'm hanging out at Kevin Whited's Reductio Ad Absurdum site, as I do fairly regularly (Kevin's got an ear for tunes and an eye for news), and I occasionally visit his journal there, thought voyeur that I am. Kevin recently (26 January 2001) wrote:
    I was psyched at 7 am (okay, as psyched as one can be that early) for a productive day at work, but that was thwarted by the fact that someone in the IT Department screwed with the logon scripts for about half the people in our office, and essentially disabled our ability to boot to the network (necessary for email, file sharing, and internet). This took over two hours to straighten out. The incompetence of that place amazes me sometimes....Of course, the IT people did manage to change the firewall to block any realaudio/windows media/chat access, because, heaven forbid, anyone have any pleasure while they are in the workplace. No, by gawd, we'll stamp out any pleasure at all. Work will be shitty, by gawd, say the powers that be. And so it is. And so are they, for that matter.
This got me thinking about my own checkered involvement with those of IT Ilk. Them. Techies. Now, TBH doesn't like to jump to conclusions. Nor do we enjoy making broad generalizations, or falling victim to stereotypical thinking. We hate being pigeonholed, and we Strongly Agree in Spirit and Deed with the Primary Christian Datum of Do Unto Others. Nonetheless, We Hold The Following Truth to be Self-Evident: Techies, in general, suck.

Why is this? The Band will postulate that there are a few reasons. First, techies are support people. And they hate to hear this, because they hate to think of themselves in these terms, because they much prefer to see themselves in (stereotypical geek) ubermensch terms. If you remember nothing else about techies, remember this: For the most part, they derive their sense of Power and Self-Worth from a Contrived Environment of Control. In other words, they much prefer to think of themselves as holding the reigns of The Great Society's ability to make any progress, or do any worthwhile work -- from communicating electronically to spitting out last month's revenue totals on an Excel worksheet. This Super-Hero self-image is much more palatable to Typical Ted Techie than, say, the one in which s/he realizes that, basically, they install operating systems and do soft/hard/ware upgrades. And they do this work primarily as needed or requested. And if they're really Living in TechnoLaLaland, they also get to mess with end-users (they refer to us as bottom-feeders, incidentally) by denying them "Admin" privileges and forcing them to rely on their services right down to specifying which network printer you'd like to print to. Which we'd all agree is certainly a very High-Level Decision. Uh-huh.

If you ever really want to see What Evil Lies in the Hearts of Men -- just grant them "Admin" privileges. It's like instant asshole mix, or something. Honest. Try it!

We ask again -- why is this?? Well, consider how our economy has evolved. Used to be industrial, now we're service-oriented. Who comprised the predominant labor force of the Industrial Age? -- Why, blue-collar males, of course! Unskilled labor requires brawn, not brains, and the industrial economy required unskilled laborers, not neurosurgeons, to grow. It really was a win-win situation at one point. That point is past. Now, we'd be silly, irresponsible and otherwise insulting if we were to imply that you don't need brains to be a good techie. This is not so. Nonetheless, many techies seems to exhibit a particularly virulent strain of old-time-Tammany-Hall-blue-collar-not-my-job-Union-ism which can easily be mistaken by Us Bottom-Feeders as any one of the following: Arrogance, insolence, laziness, cover-your-ass behavior, passive-agressive disorder, etc. You get the picture. In short, the people who comprise the lower levels of tech support in the modern-day work hierarchy are the Blue Collar Workers of the New Millenium. And with those collars comes a long, healthy tradition of Kiss-My-Ass Attitude.

So -- let's jump ahead here, and out of fairness to The Other Side, let's go ahead and ask The Hundred Thousand Dollar Question which, right at this very minute, is virtually burning a hole in the mouths of our Otherwise Incommunicative Techies: "Ok, smart-ass (that's me) -- you like to sit there and condemn me and what I do very minute -- up until you try to boot up on a Monday and you get the blue screen of death! -- whattayagonna do then, smart-ass?! huh?!?! huh??!?!!?" Why, I'd call tech support, of course -- if I was in the office.

What the Great Techie Gods-Among-Mortal-Men forget is this: If, however, I (or you) were at home, I'd prolly just curse and reinstall the OS. Uh, yeah guys -- we do that kind of thing.

How many people own their own home computers these days?? How many are PCs? How many times a day does Windows, Nestscape, Explorer and just about every other commonly used application need to be upgraded, and who does the upgrades? Does every one of us individual home PC users have a staff of technical experts who mantain our home boxes?? No. No. No. No. No.

Why not? Because, more often than not, almost *everything* comes down to "Click OK," the exception being setting up networking, or determining server resources, but those are *exceptions.* Upgrading to the latest browser is not rocket science.

So, if we don't have our own Tech Support staffs, who maintains all of these home boxes? Ummmm, we do. What's the difference between upgrading RealPlayer on a home machine and upgrading it on the office machine, assuming the office box is already running the app? Ummm, nothing. Who does it harm if the Errant Bottom-Feeder wants to load some dumb CPU intensive screensaver on their work box, slowing down all of their other critical apps?? Ummmm, the bottom feeder. Right! But, do you tell the Errant Screensaver Nut that their PC is sluggish because of the screensaver they think is so dandy?? No. Why not? Because that would require the Imparting of Information to the Uninformed -- which is strictly verboten for the committed control-freak techie. Why? Because to the control-freak psyche an educated user base translates into that much less of a need for their services. But don't call them "services," call it "support." But don't call it "support," call it control.

Back to Kevin:
    In contrast, my home network does not suffer from limitations imposed by idiots....Tonight, I put a network card in the computer...It popped onto my network beautifully, I tweaked a few things and updated some software, and it's good to go. And it sure as hell didn't take me two hours to get it all working!...

    Not to brag, but I rather like the fact that whatever I do, I tend to do it competently. This is not an accident, and it's not because I'm any more "talented" than most. It's because I have personal and professional integrity. There is no reason to do things half-ass. There is no reason for IT people, for example, not to check their work to make sure the productivity of an entire office won't go to zero because of their screw ups....There's no reason for lots of nonsense. Yet it persists.
Well said, Kevin -- feel free to brag a little. Competency is Bragworthy. While this brings us perilously close to some Thoughts on Mediocrity, that would be a completely separate rant from this one, called Remember the "Millenium Bug"??

Do you remember it? That Y2K thing. The short-sightedness of 1st-generation techies coming home to roost. Do you remember it? Did your computer crash? Did the world end? Did you lose power? heat? Did your car not start? (See above, where we wrote: "No. No. No. No. No.) What was most funny about the whole thing was that -- as soon as 1999 waxed 2000 -- why, didn't all the air just leak right out of that little hype balloon?? A bunch of techies and consultants basically got left in the lurch, because, as so often happens on This Planet Called Earth, doomsayers are wrong, and their Nostradamus-like predictions are for naught.

Trouble is -- if we let them -- they'll try to pull off another stunt like this.

Seeds of Hope

"Radioactive Seeds May Offer Treatment Option for Breast Cancer" -- Interesting article at WebMD about brachytherapy, which is a "common" form of radiation treatment for prostrate cancer, but not for breast cancer. And why is that?

Further Fantasies of the Sun-Impaired

"Readers build their cases for structures they want to tear down." Because it's such a forward-thinking city. Well, some people would like to think it is...

1.26.2001

B Sides

The Band continues to evolve its set list as the new virtual musical work-in-progress takes further shape -- more cuts:
  • "Can't Escape the Rat Race" -- Catchy, catchy, self-explanatory catchy!

  • "The Right Tool for the Job" -- Further evidence of The Dangers of Sun Deprivation. As if we needed any more.

  • "Tipper & the Professor" -- Al Gore's got a brand new gig.

  • "Everybody's Makin' Out" -- The Band attempts to answer the question, "What the heck *is* emo anyway?!?!?" Ask them, and they'll hafta kick yer ass.

1.25.2001

The Incredible Lightness of Posting

Apologies for that -- perhaps the prior two posts were overly ambitious, or perhaps the...whatever....I'll spare you the excuses.....just haven't been able to get 'em up lately. Had hoped in these pages of late to have launched a new feature -- RTI -- on the surface, an acronym for Real Time Interruption, itself a bit of web-speak, generally used to refer to times when cyber activities must suddenly cease, due to some encroachment by the so-called real world. For instance, you're happily blogging away, on a Veritable Run of Undeniable Brilliance -- and your boss pops in, unannounced, per usual, and you have to Cease & Desist. In these pages, however, RTI will appear to set off some real world-based rant or essay, which we hope our Dear Readers will enjoy.

Today's RTI: Liberation is Only Skin Deep

[The first one of these is meant to be here, but we haven't gotten around to it yet. Bear with us. - Mr. Ed.]

On the Town

The Muse and I had the opportunity to see Martin Sexton live at Rosebud, hosted by our friends at WYEP. We'd describe him as kind of Jeff Buckley-meets-John Gorka-meets-Chris Whitley -- but he's actually totally original. Llots of acoustic jamming, with strong blues and jazz influences. Really amazing vocal range and ability -- sounded at times like a violin, a horn, a sax, a tenor, a baritone. Good show, nice crowd -- the first set kinda dragged, imo, but after a short break, Sexton returned and had the joint really jumpin'. Nothin' like live music.

1.19.2001

The Church has Already Burnt. . .

Supposing you need to leave the planet in a hurry -- let's say the world's on fire, and you need to bolt -- what would you take with you?

The Band's suggestions:
  • As much Bach, Mozart and Beethoven as you can afford to carry. All of the Well-Tempered Clavier, with Glenn Gould playing, if possible, plus the smaller chamber works. And, for the young'n's, not just the symphonies, but all of the chamber works (quartets, quintets, duets), plus the overtures, operas, sonatas and Wolferl's Requiem.
  • The Brahms Third.
  • Some Shostakovich, some Stravinsky and some Prokofiev -- prolly whatever you have will be fine.
  • A copy of Citizen Kane
  • Franz Schubert's "Unfinished" symphony, plus all of his songs (preferably with Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau singing), and his piano compositions.
  • All of Frederic Chopin's Etudes
  • Copies of All the King's Men, Nineteen Eighty-Four, Crime and Punishment, Les Miserables, Eugene Onegin, Anna Karenina, War and Peace, Farenheit 451, A Separate Peace, Lord of the Flies, Heart of Darkness, The Metamorphosis, The Trial, The Stranger, The Great Gatsby, A Farewell to Arms, The Sun Also Rises and Jitterbug Perfume. Also, everything by Tom McGuane and Raymond Carver.
  • Thirteen, Tuesday, The Elfabet, The Math Curse, the complete Seuss, Shel Silverstein, all of Richard Scary's books, The Little Prince, The Velveteen Rabbit, Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, Goodnight Moon, Oscar the Otter, and the complete unabridged Grimm's Faery Tales.
  • The Rachmaninoff 3rd. Horowitz.
  • Verdi's Requiem
  • Carl Orff's Carmina Burana
  • Dry socks and a few changes of underwear.


That oughtta get you through the first long winter.

Homage to the Masters

People The Band have studied under -- a few select teachers, influences and mentors who made The Acquisition of Knowledge less than the stale and stodgy chore that it can often become in the wrong hands. These following individuals rise far above the norm, and leave the mediocre in their dust.
  • Lee K. Abbott, writer
    Quotation: "For an instant, and for another, I imagined the hole to heaven, which was small and tight and already closing fast on my tail." -- from the short story, "All Things, All at Once"
  • William M. Marling, writer
    Quotation: "In the real world, everything is typed."
  • Mary Oliver, poet
    Quotation: "You only have to let the soft animal of your body/love what it loves./ Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine./ Meanwhile the world goes on." -- from Wild Geese
  • Robert Ornstein, Shakespeare scholar and Oviatt Professor Emeritus of English at Case Western Reserve University
  • Kenneth W. Grundy, director (former?) of CWRU's Center for Policy Studies
    Quotation: "When you bet your money on the wrong horse, well, you lose."
  • Peter Salm, modern language and literature
  • Walter A. Strauss, modern language and literature (Emeritus, Humanities)
  • Thomas Esper, history


Emergence from the Prehistory of Daily Life

Flash: TBH announces that work on their latest masterpiece is nearly complete. The album, to be called Fecundity and Collusion in the Lower 48, is sure to be controversial. Tracks will include:
  • "Death is Not the End" -- An experimental nod to Jim Morrison and Stalin, inspired by the Newseum's The Commissar Vanishes exhibit, which Yahoo! describes as a sobering collection of "Before and After" photographs from the Stalin era, when Mr. Moostache broke new ground in spin control, and set the standard for years of Ogilvy & Mather ads for Procter & Gamble cleaning products -- here today, gone tomorrow! No more hours of scrubbing by hand!!

  • "Rosie's World" -- Speaking of propaganda, check out Posters American Style, a selection of The National Museum of American Art's traveling exhibit of poster designs, including Rosie the Riveter, snake oil ads, psychedelic stuff and Hitchcock film promotions.


....more on this later......

1.17.2001

Every Fraud and Swindle. . .

Yet More Food for Thought from those prototypical performance artistes, the Situationists:

    The church has already burnt the so-called witches to repress the primitive ludic tendencies conserved in popular festivities. Under the existing dominant society, which produces the miserable pseudo-games of non-participation, a true artistic activity is necessarily classed as criminality. It is semi-clandestine. It appears in the form of scandal.

    So what really is the situation? It's the realisation of a better game, which more exactly is provoked by the human presence. The revolutionary gamesters of all countries can be united in the S.I. to commence the emergence from the prehistory of daily life.


In the mood?


Whistle Whilste You Work

A situation without a theme song is no situation atoll. The Band is listening to:
  • Ornette Coleman's Ornette Coleman Double Quartet Free Jazz
  • Frank Zappa, Apostrophe
  • and some funky little ditty called "Aguas de Marco" by Cibo Matto off the album, Super Relax. Dunno. Sounds Brazilian to me.


Your Humble Chronicler made the mistake of offhandedly commenting on the eclectic flavor of these selections, and was promptly greeted with the following Handwritten Musical Demands:
    Louis Armstrong : Hot Fives Vol. 1 (CD)
    Miles Davis : Kind Of Blue (CD)
    Miles Davis : Birth Of The Cool (CD)
    Dave Brubeck : Time Out (CD)
    Joe Jackson : Vol. 2-Night & Day (CD)
    John Coltrane : Giant Steps (CD)
    Thelonious Monk : Brilliant Corners (CD)
    Bill Evans : Original Jazz Classic Jazz (CD)
    Pat Metheny : Still Life (Talking) (CD)
    Monk/Coltrane : Thelonious With John (CD)
    Dexter Gordon : Quartet: 1955-1967 (CD)


....sounds like somebody's been watching Ken Burns videos..........

1.16.2001

And Another Thing. . .

While we're on the topic of Who Said What Where First -- these things are mine:
  • First referred to the worldwide web as The Fourth Estate.
  • Conceived of a new video game, targeted at young-to-middling adults, wherein your character is beseiged with obligations, and struggles to put them off indefinitely. Game to be called "Intendo."
While You Were Sleeping.....Gone.....Sucking?

It occurs to us that a little background is in order. This whole blog thing really began with Suck, launched roughly five lo years ago by self-styled web pundits Joey Anuff and Carl Steadman. Suck was, and, in The Band's opinion, remains the blog archetype. Today, you can find Joey working on Plastic, and you can check on Carl's day at his freedonia! site. (Your Chronicler will contend that Carl is no less than a frustrated modern-day Situationist. Really -- go see Carl's Kid A In Alphabet Land -- kind of détournement meets The Elfabet: An ABC of Elves, (1990). Check out Carl's work, and then take a peek at some Situationist images. Neato, eh? (See also Guy Debord and the Lettrists -- which, come to think of it, wouldn't make a half-bad name for the punk-zydeco-rockabilly-swing band comprised of TBH's half cousins.) If you hunger for yet more, read Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century (9/90), by Greil Marcus.)

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch. . .

No, it's not another George Dubya story (your relieved sighs are audible, btw). Instead, some simple questions:

1) Are you in a cult? Find out!

2) What is IT?? (Also, read Netslaves author Steve Gilliard's commentary on The Flying Scooter)

3) Feeling conspiratorial? Plan your next world takeover, or just hang out with the beautiful people.

Tell 'em The Band sentcha. Yee-ha.

We leave you with this line from Lipstick Traces (p. 80):

    The shock of punk is no longer in its thuggery, misogyny, racism, homophobia, its yearning for final solutions to questions it barely asked, in negation's empowerment of every fraud and swindle.


[ The Band suggests that you wash that down with some Flaming Lips. Of particular interest may be Zaireeka (1997), a 4-CD set designed to be -- get this -- played simultaneously! - Ed. ]

1.15.2001


Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

Other b-days commemorated this week:


Deaths?
Mohandas K. Gandhi, Anais Nin, Vladimir Lenin, Lewis Carroll, Humphrey Bogart, and Rudyard Kipling.

Accomplishments?
Elizabeth Tudor is crowned as Elizabeth I; Captain James Cook crosses the Antarctic Circle on the Resolution; Indira Gandhi is elected Prime Minister of India; Louis XVI loses his head; Giacomo Puccini's Tosca premieres in Rome; Pytor Ilyich Tchaikowski's Swan Lake premieres in St. Petersburg; and Henry Ford launches the assembly line concept.

Don't Give Up Hope

That people are stupid at least as much as they aren't is not in dispute. But, are they dumber in Paris? Perhaps if, say, Wm Tell and Penn & Teller were to breed, you might get these yo-yo's.

A tough act to follow, but Oklahoma gives it a good shot.

Well, humans may be dumb, but at least they're brave.

Sometimes.

1.13.2001

Saturday Morning Cartoons

Your Humble Chronicler here sits, cross-legged, Japanese-style, posting from the floor of the TBH pad, currently devoid of furniture, which is being replaced this morning, barring any catastrophic acts of god. Figures this appointment would coincide with one of the first sunny, above-30-degree days here in the Bleary City. But, we wait. Patience is a virtue.

While we're waiting, we partake of Cartoons for Grown-Ups:
  • You gotta check out heavy.com. Make sure you click on the American Suck Countdown at some point.

  • It'd be perverse if it weren't so blatantly silly -- JibJab, where you can send e-cards, visit Godzillary, do the Dubya and even download screensavers. One-stop shopping for your twisted inner child.

  • So, you've wasted too much time at the Shockwave site watching the latest episodes of Radiskull and Stainman. We've all been there. Now you need a last minute gift for a birthday party. No problem -- pick up a 10" Devil Doll before you sign out. $11.95. Can't beat that with a stick.


If you've got one of those rare cartoon phobias, don't despair. More eye candy below. . .
  • Find a seat in the screening room at the Digital Film Festival.

  • Like sitting in the dark? Try the Sync Festival, the only place The Band knows of where you can find Nosferatu (1922), The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) and Reefer Madness (1936) all on the same marquee. (Bring your own popcorn.)

  • Still haven't had enough? Try IFILM. Spike and Mike. Mr. Bill. Topless women draped in American flags. They're all there, plus Rupert Wainright's seminal net classic, The Sadness of Sex.

1.12.2001

A Public Service Announcement
Memorize this:
A before E, except after C,
or when sounded like "ay,"
as in "neighbor" or "weigh."
Or caffeine. Or protein.


The previous has been a Public Service Announcement provided by Trudy's Bitchin' Hats.

The Greatest Thing to Be Thankful for Since September 29, 2000
It has been 105 days since Big Brother ended.

Not the real Big Brother, of course -- that one's still going on. But the other one one, that voyeuristic excuse-for-some-kind-of-modern-day-socio-cultural experiment. You know the one we mean.

The Price is Right

Interesting note -- I had to do a search to find that bit of information, and in the course of clicking on one of the results, I was greeted by Our Friends at AOL, who launched a lovely pop-up ad on my screen, touting up to 700 -- count 'em! -- free hours! Interesting that they no longer even have to explain what they're talking about, so ominpresent have then become. More interesting to The Band, however, is that they continue to do this. We remember back when they offered a whopping 10 free hours to get you hooked. Unless we're wrong (and we, of course, are not), today you don't have to pay a dime for your ISP, unless you really, really want to, or you make your living off of something that involves a connection.

But, by all means -- keep sending those free installation/registration CDs, 'cuz they continue to make bitchin' coasters. And, in this not-Napster era, The Band predicts that, as a decorating accessory, they're well on the way to attaining "Retro" status.

If you don't, you oughtta be happy with NetZero. They've been around long enough to know better, sure, but they still do it, and have outlasted most of the other free ISP players. And they even provide an option where you can pay for it, if that's your thing. The catch? -- you have to use over 40 hours/month to be billed. (Shouldn't be a stretch for any self-respecting blogger.)

TBH's Testimonial: Recently, The Band had a few questions about some recent service changes at NetZero. So we sent e-mail to the company's Chrmn-CEO, Mark R. Goldston. Did we receive a reply the next day? The next week? No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o.

Actually, we sent the mail at 9:04 OST (Our Server Time) this morning. And we got a thorough response at 9:08 OST. This morning.

A four minute turn-around. Not bad, gang....not bad atoll.........

Friday Night Brain Poison

So, have you seen this show, CSI?? It's a tried-and-true formula: Couple overacting with spectacularly dumb dialogue -- and give it a well-known theme song that, while making sense on paper, is too dated to make any sense in practice (we presume another one of our influences, The Who, must be hurtin' for royalties, or worrying about their retirement funds -- is there a difference?) -- and you've got the makings of an hour of TV that can be, at its best, mildly amusing (read: Dumb enough to earn a nomination for a Golden Globe Award). The Band is confused by how a show of such questionable intent ends up with great color and snazzy editing, all the same. Must be a glut of techies in The Biz.

G'night.

1.11.2001

So, The Band's all up in arms because I neglected to post on New Year's day and yesterday, thus losing the opportunity to see those dates automatically generated as, respectively:

01.01.01
and
01.10.01


So, there.....~sheesh~........no one ever said they weren't a bunch of obessive compulsives..........we'll blame this outburst on their new diet.......

Aplogies for the lack of activity yesterday -- busy with the mundanities of RT. But we have gotten very nice mail from Kevin Whited and the soup goddess, without whose support this site would be impossible. (Seriously, at this point, they're bigger supporters than the Pew Charitable Trusts and the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation combined!)

1.09.2001

Latest Stupid Mailbox Items:

Stupid Item #1 -- Category: E-mail
***************************************************************
ONLINE CHAT EVENTS - THIS WEEK AT TALK CITY
January 8, 2001 - January 15, 2001

Learn How to Kiss
***************************************************************
The Band's Handwritten Reply on high-quality fine vellum paper:

I'll ride my bike, thanks.
Sincerely, TBH


Stupid Item #2 -- Category: Snail-mail
The Band yesterday received a plain white envelope, postmarked Santa Ana, CA, addressed to Yours Truly. Upon opening, we find a page torn from some publication (?) called Executive Focus. The page is designed to resemble a magazine article -- complete with life-like jagged edge on one side, as if it were actually torn from a real magazine. (Maybe it was. Who knows.)

Anyway, this article, titled, "Catapult Yourself to the Top -- Become an Electrifying Public Speaker!" (yes, Virginia, there is an exclamation point), is actually an ad for something called American Speaker. The gist is that you can order it now, for a mere $297. And -- if you order it now -- receive a FREE Bonus -- "100 Best Quotes for 2001." Most intriguing is the hand-printed post-it note stuck on the article, which says, simply: "Try this. It's really good! -- J." Then, today, we receive another piece of mail, same postmark -- this one entitled "Add an Hour to Your Day: How to Get Organized...and Get a Life" -- even the same content on the sticky note, albeit scrawled in a different more feminine hand. No bonus offer with this one, but the opportunity to subscribe to The Organized Executive for only $97 is tough to resist... Cursory web searches (on Metacrawler, of course) for "Executive Focus" and "American Speaker" turned up no hits, though further examination of the ad reveals, in fine print, this phrase: "Personalized promotion by Briefings Publishing Group." Go there, and you'll find that, "By seeking out this site, you've taken a big step toward making your work life easier." Still waiting for that effect to kick in....

The Band's Handwritten Reply on high-quality fine vellum paper:

Please accept this submission for inclusion in your 'Best Quotes' compilation: Bite me.
Sincerely, TBH


On Other Fronts: You think you have it bad -- nothing is easy for baby elephant seals.

Heard: A pundit on the radio this morning used the phrase "giant sucking sound," which Rang A Bell and prompted The Band to search its memory banks for the origin of the phrase in the media vernacular. We can't be certain, but we're fairly sure it harks back to the Halcyon Days of H. Ross Perot, founder of the Reform Party. Say what you will about his politics, but Perot is undeniably amusing at times. Plus, he holds the distinction of having a name which, like The Band's, converts nicely to a TLA -- in this case, "HRP." And we still love the story about how this former IBM employee, after selling his quota for the year in one month, proposed a new business idea to his employer, only to have it rejected. So Perot moved to Texas with $1,000 he borrowed from his wife and founded Electronic Data Systems. His motto then was reportedly, "We have to succeed, therefore we will." And he did, becoming independently wealthy and quite influential. (EDS was later acquired by General Motors, I think, which then decided they knew how to run EDS better than Perot did. So he resigned from the board. Spunky little fellow, this guy. TBH approves.)

Note: Speaking of reform, the term is "pundit." Yes, that's right -- "pun-DIT" -- not "pun-DINT," as we too often hear these days. As my dad used to say, look it up -- it's pun-DIT -- pun-dit, DIT, DIT*&@#&@*&$@~!!!!!!! Note that there is no alternative pronunciation. So, when did broadcasters decide that they could butcher the language like so many lay people? TBH is not amused. The next time you overhear a professional radio or tv broadcaster incorrectly pronounce this simple word, we encourage you, dear reader, to change the channel in protest.

Last But Not Least: Way back in the early days of this TBH blog, reference was made to contemporary singer/songwriter Tori Amos, and Your Narrator felt that it was High Time to revisit the topic of musical influences on Trudy's Bitchin' Hats. Ms. Amos came into The Band's life during a dark and somewhat melodramatic period which required a certain healing musical vibe. Certain frequencies of this vibe came were provided by Tori's music and lyrics. Her incredible debut, Little Earthquakes, remains one of those albums that TBH can still listen to and hear new things; I swear, we listened to "Silent All These Years" almost every day for nearly a year before we understood the meaning of the lyrics, "but what if I'm a mermaid / in these jeans of his / with her name still on it." Wow.

Along these lines, check out these folks, which TBH sometimes irreverently refers to as "The Pain Chicks":
  • Mystical, lyrical, Celtic -- however you describe it, Loreena McKennit (her site, Warner Bros site) writes some beautiful music.
  • More beauty from Sarah McLachlan.
  • The incredible Shawn Colvin
  • They started as October Project, but now they're November Project -- full-blown orchestral waves of sound, very melodic if somewhat overproduced. Lovely if you're in the right mood.

Other Great Artists with Great Sites:
  • You've recognized the musical stylings of the Dynamic Duo of the Hollywood upscale Lounge Lizard scene for decades -- now you can join Donald Fagen and Walter Becker at their expectedly irreverant and surprisingly self-deprecating Steely Dan site -- good stuff!

  • All you need to know about the Dave Matthews Band at The Warehouse.

  • Former Hüsker Dü frontman Bob Mould keeps you in the loop on his comings and goings, plus gives you the straight stuff on the demise of his band Sugar, and why he has chosen "to move toward something that doesn't disrupt my attempt at having a life, separate from my career, for chunks of 4 months of time." A true artist and a truly comprehensive site.

  • If the music and words of former Throwing Muse and, later, Belly sister Kristin Hersh do not make you laugh, cry and want to scream -- then TBH is afraid there's something terribly wrong with your emotional motherboard. (And if that sentence structure gave you a headache, I understand why, and offer my apologies. Thanks for sticking with us.) She Who Brought Us Hips and Makers rocks on. :)

  • From an old Addicted to Noise article:

    Former lead Muse Kristen Hersch remembers it well. "I remember walking up to the bar at the Rat," says Hersch, referring to Boston's legendary Kenmore Square club. "And a friend of mine was just staring at the stage, waiting for the opening band. And that was strange, because there was always a ton of opening bands there. But he told me this one was good -- that they were called the Pixies. And I thought that was a really goofy name for a band. But then all of a sudden, I was blown away," she said. "They all wore eyeliner, and Charles [Thompson] was soft, with a shaved head and a creamsickle-colored shirt. Actually... I actually thought they were all a bunch of lesbians."

    (Kristen, we love you.) And they took the stage and may very well have played this tune:
    "I was talking to peachy-peach about / kissy-kiss..."

    Yes, they called themselves The Pixies and they were arguably one of The Best Bands Ever. Next to TBH, of course.

    But, life so goes on. Today, if you look you will find Black Francis [b. 1965, Charles Michael Kitteridge Thompson], formerly Pixies frontman, reincarnated as Frank Black and the Catholics.

  • This Family Tree would completely incomplete without more than a mention of The Breeders ("I'll be the bong in your reggae song"), where you find Kristen's Muse sister, Tanya Donelly in unholy cahoots with Pixie Kim Deal, later joined by twin sister Kelley Deal (who in true Muses fashion has emerged from what she calls her "12-step thingy" at Minnesota's Hazelden Foundation like a Phoenix from the ashes, and now keeps busy with her own band, The Kelley Deal 6000, or TKD6K, for short). You see, back in the day (1990), Tanya, Kim and Kelley formed The Breeders as -- get this -- "a little side project." (We're talking creativity to fucking burn with these grrrlz. Boy bands eat your hearts out.) Kim, along with Breeders bassist Jim Macpherson, now fronts a group called The Amps, play/sing/ing under the stage name of Tammy Ampersand (!). Cute. And they're based in Dayton, Ohio. Oh my. (Yes, Virginia, wonders will never cease.)

  • Further proof that Life Goes On is offered by former Camper van Beethoven helmsman, David Lowery, himself reconstituted with additives as Cracker -- nice site and well worth visiting.

  • Another great and personal site belongs to Jane Siberry. After hearing Jane, if you don't completely adore her work, get thee soon some serious professional help.


Lest We Forget the Labels: When you need a source for the music mentioned above, plus tons of other great shit, here are two damned good starts:


Enjoy!

Now, back to blogland -- more peoples to visit when you can:
  • Young kaycee nicole has put together a site she calls Living Colours which is not only inspiring but proves we think that you don't need to be old to be wise. Fight on, kaycee.
  • Find a different brand of wisdom here.
  • Much writing of merit here at Crushing Krisis and The Band likes the background.
  • The Band's liking the style over at twenty-seven dreams.
  • We like michelle's sapphireblue site lots.
  • What the naked eye can discern in the a v a i l a b l e l i g h t will not dissappoint.
  • Charles Bukowski wrote, love is a dog from hell, and here's one blogger's variation on that theme.
  • Hungry? If you can't find what you're looking for here, TBH recommends Lola's Soups of Insanity at Cheating Death Once Again. Lola's cool -- take The Band's word for it. And she's looking for work, so hire her, already. (some adult content)
  • Got mail from monde over at thraam transmissions, discorporate, where TBH was indoctrinated with a good deal of fanfare into the oddbloggers web ring. In the wake of Y2K, our ranking as the nineteenth blog to be granted oddblogger status appeals to our sense of the retro.....19.....19.....19......we like it....could be a mantra....or the title of our next album....might have to rename the site. We are honoured.
  • You've seen him on TV, now visit The Horny Goat, who apparently resides right here in the 'burgh.
  • If you enjoy the stylings of the Goat-man, he points us to speechtherapy, here expressing valid opinions on the Mind-Numbing Brain Death that is Television. (...but we're not biased....*grin*...)
  • TBH has no idea what to make of this one, except that it's called Burble and it's odd. Good luck.
With That We Leave You With This:

She put the oil in the chain for a ride today, /
no boloney /
Ride around on my bicycle like a pony /
I'm wavin hi hi hi hi hi...

- The Pixies -
{~sigh~}

1.08.2001

Ok. It's Monday, again. And you know what that means, boyz and grrrlz -- time for a little escapism...

Where I want to be today: Psychointegrator Plants, Visionary Art, Ethnobotany and Psychotherapy
Where I want to be next week: Palenque 2001-- Visionary Ethnobotany (looks like A. and A. will be there!)
Where I want to be in May, 2001: Entheobotany 2
Where I want to be in late-August, 2001: Telluride Mushroom Festival

For reference, Where I Am Now it is Like This Today:
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Current Temperature: 30° F; Wind Speed: 6 mph; Feels Like: 25° F; Visibility: 1.00 mi; Sunshine: None whatsoever; Sunrise: Irrelevant; Current Conditions: Light Snow; Sunset: Irrelevant; Humidity: 91%

Or, for Those Days When You're Really Bored, try Fielding's Dangerfinder! An excerpt from the Intro:
    If you decide to wax up your Discover card and actually go to some of the locations described in this book, please remember that visiting these places may likely get you killed or earn you the nickname Stumpy.


Still up for it? If you're beginning to lose your nerve, just go back up and re-read that weather forecast.....

1.05.2001

So, I'm sifting through The Band's archives, here, and I find this, which is no less than Evidence of Why You Should Keep Copies of Old Letters to Close Friends (excerpt from letter dated 12/19/95):
_____________

Keep the faith. One last inspirational (I think) thought -- I've been pondering this concept lately.....in light of my statement that I am more comfortable with the poets than the philosophers....I have never understood, in all my days -- from being an undergrad and studying religion/theology to current day philosophical discussions/debates -- the reason that, whenever a discussion waxes philosophical, the notion of "Is there a God?" and "How can we prove that there is a God?" comes up. Seemed then and still does, to me, to be totally irrelevant.

Scripture was not written as philosophy, so why is it analyzed by philosophers in philosophical language? Do biologists use philosophical terms to talk about the body?? (Certainly, John Lilly does.) Do lawyers use iambic pentameter to discuss law?? I just don't get it. It isn't that I find no value in philosophy, or in philosophical thinking; it is a good thing to be able to think critically, and precisely and analytically -- I would be, at best, silly to deny or attempt to dispute this in any way.

But I think it's fair to say that it's equally silly to deny that, after a certain point, it all becomes moot. Take the notion that a "thought" or "opinion" can be peeled like an onion -- well, if you think this, what makes you think it?....and if you think that, what makes you think that?....and on and on, ad infinitum. Like, think of the onion. You can peel it, again and again, and again, and again....and eventually have nothing left. Does that mean that there isn't really anything there??

....furthermore, why does this so annoy me?? I think of the image of the burning bush......and a discussion among philosophers as to whether or not the bush is really burning, or is it only burning because we think it is, or perceive it to be on fire, or whatever. The Easterns seem to so clearly cut through all of this mental masturbation......if one questions whether or not the bush is truly burning, the roshi would very likely respond, "Jump in!" Certain things are real, and certain things are not. Why is this so difficult for people to understand?? Or, rather, why is it so "easy" for me to "understand," or "know" or "grasp" -- and in such an unwavering manner? Why would anyone pose the question "Is there a God?" except to pose it to themselves, and how could one person ever determine that they are in any way qualified to determine whether or not there is one??

Me, I'm a critter......that's how I look at myself, anyway, in the large scale structure of the universe. I want a warm nest to retreat to, after I'm done scurrying around. The universe does not revolve around me -- I am a part of it -- and I'm happy with that. There are things that I cannot "know," and I'm comfortable with that, and I really don't understand how anyone could be presumptuous enough to think that they could figure everything out! I mean, HOW?!?!??! There are things which I can only experience, and there are things which I can only respond to by embodying the voice of "Wow!" And I don't feel any less alive or aware than anyone I know who requires more. And, it seems, that most people who I know who do require more are not happy. Perhaps they are so frightened by the chaos of life that they choose to compartmentalize it into "ideas" that they can analyze and trick themselves into thinking that they understand, thereby deriving some fabricated sense of control over themselves, or at least their place in the universe.

There is no control, [my good friend]. The universe is out of control. Out of our's, at least.

Do we have a place in the universe?? Why is it that I am perfectly happy with the following answer:
"Maybe we do. Maybe we don't. Who cares, and what does it really matter, anyway?? You're here, is all. So be here."

Really, I think if everyone felt this the way I do, people would be a damned sight happier with their existence. And subscribing to these notions do not mean likewise adopting a totally deterministic view of life....we are now and remain free to make choices.....and our choices will determine the paths of our futures......and life is very much, it seems to me, about making choices. Because, if you don't make them, who will? I mean, what else is there to do here????

Ya know, my friend, you either dance, or you watch other people dance, or you talk about other people who watch other people dance. What's the attraction of this twice-thrice-twenty-times removed existence, except that it's probably safe and flat and predictable??

It would bore me to tears, I'm afraid. I need to touch things, get dirty, get rained on -- through experience, that's how I understand things. And I like it....the slight sting of ice crystals on my face -- not pleasant, but it is something that I know.....the sadness of a child who thought he was going to get a super sundae and wound up with an ordinary ice cream cone....that sense of loss......the warmth and safety of a woman and the soft yet undeniable desire to be with her.....knowing that someone you loved, or didn't love, maybe even didn't even get to know but wondered about knowing, is gone, from life, your's and everyone else's.....how can anyone "explain" such things in terms of reason and analysis???? Life is color, and thrash and energy and sound. And mystery.

And I'm pretty annoyed by any philosophical venture that attempts to in any way diminish its awesome and sacred beauty.
_____________

Later.

1.04.2001

Christmas hath come and gone, and with it The Band's winter break -- not to mention blogger's stability, apparently......{a big ~sheesh~ with a capital "S" to that...}.... So, I'm gonna post this and get out -- alive, hopefully. Happy New Year, and welcome back to --

The Grind That is Daily

TBH spent it's break in the manner most befitting A Band of This Magnitude -- touring! Topping The Band's agenda this year-end was a road trip to this beautiful place, which is supposedly home, at least part-time, to both Colin Powell (not Quinn) and Lynda Carter (not Barry), though TBH's attempts to arrange a group luncheon to discuss the electoral college, campaign finance reform and, of course, Whitewater, were unsuccessful, leading us to question the veracity of this intelligence, which as things turned out was delivered to us by a young country gentleman who toured us around the resort in his circa-1990 Honda Accord in a gentle albeit ineffective attempt to sell us a time-share paradise resort vacation property. It just wasn't our thing, I guess.

While in the area, though, TBH left its mark in many places. We:

  • Visited Dream Lake and the Saracen's Tent, home to the World's Largest Naturally Occurring Organ;
  • Bought a 6-pack and a couple bottles of Virginia merlot (the Muse's treat!) at a Food Lion, as much because we could as because we wanted it;
  • Ate Mexican food at a restaurant called El Charro in Harrisonburg, VA (no relation to this Queen of Kitsch);
  • Drove across the top of some of the Shenandoah Mountain range, where we would love to go spend some time hiking, though you have to be careful out there, as one Happy Camper describes;
  • Stopped in a neat little antique store called Foothills, where Our Muse purchased a modest selection of treasures;
  • And tooled around a cold, empty and windy battlefield in Gettysburg before returning home. (Incidentally, for those Historical Purists in the audience, of whom I'm sure there are many, the battle took place in July, not at the tail-end of December.)


Update:I stopped with the happy happy joy joy pills. I read a bit more about them, and -- though nothing of great concern -- it turns out they contain a substance that is known to cause photosensitivity. I'd also read that the herb's proponent, Pete McWilliams, commented that he takes the herb in the evening (Pete apparently uses Effexor during the day -- such a drug fiend!), and I'd noticed that after having taken the pills for about 3 days (at a level of about 900 mg/d PO) my face was feeling slightly irritated -- be it from exposure to dry forced heat, my recent bout with a cold, or use of the forementioned herb while driving with my sunroof slid open, I don't know -- but it seemed that two and two were adding up, on some level at least, so I decided to give it a rest. As it turned out, not having to work over the break put me in fine enough spirits, as did the Shenandoah Valley junket. But, as stated below/before/previously/whatever, further experimentation really is needed before any solid conclusions are drawn. Later.