Maria Tallchief

U.S.'s first prima ballerina.

I ain't know...

Finished Product

(for now)


The little b@st@rd$ in the middle of the handlebar gave me hell all the way until the wee hours of this morning. First I couldn't get any tension after I installed the one for the front brake, then realized that I needed a longer cable for the rear (a realization that only took 'til 5:27am Sunday morning to sink in). After managing to get some brake functionality... and losing it as I coasted into the ferry terminal... and precarious tip-toe-riding through the LES... I proceeded to the only bike shop in the LES that's open on Sunday (that I know of). After an initial condescension at my attempt, it was suggested that I try again with new cables (an additional $8 to go with the other $80*).

I eventually made it back to the abode and after a nap of epic proportions I started at it again. I got the front to work nigh on immediately. Now the rear refused to tension properly, meaning another all night/morning-er. Sometime around the arrival of this previous day's dawn I made the great-ape level realization that where the cable was positioned inside the top tube had an effect on the tension. I fiddled with that until it was worked sufficiently and went to wrap the bars.

Of course, in the glee of achieving working brakes (read: stupor), I neglected to 1) properly match the wrapping on both sides of the bar near the inlines, 2) forgot to go back and level the brake hoods with each other before wrapping. You may note that the inline levers aren't level either, that however is on purpose. They are actually a little too close to each other for the cable movement necessary. Just to give them a little space for the cables to flex, and angled them off a little. The rest is goof. I'm not completely happy with my job of it, but I'm very satisfied with the idea of wrapping the brake hoods; wish I'd done it last year.

Things I've learned about bikes this weekend:

• messing with brake cables sucks; but I knew that already
• if you've got your bike set up in any way out of the ordinary, make sure you let the bike know in advance to LEAVE IT THAT WAY; otherwise there'll be some surprise conventionality upon it's return
• if you can change a shifter, you can do the $40-$60 bike shop tuneup yourself; eschew laziness and do it
• if, like me you despise any one part of the process (truing, for example) or there's something that genuinely requires a special tool you don't have, take it in and have them do JUST that one thing
  
• I want $40 of my $80 dollars* back...I'd chalk it up to not specifying, but I could've sworn I asked to be called before anything involving extra cost was involved...ask me before doing extra work! [growl*]
  

*although they did seem like a nice crew. and I do support the cause. perhaps it was due to the season rush. ..

oh, and at that other store, I left the bike in the condition it was in when I was grasping at straws, so I had to show her how it was set up when done "correctly", at which point the condescension left....mostly (wink).

The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo

hbo.com
thefledglingfund

I guess I'd feel that Iraq is warranted if I heard stories like this coming from Iraq.

But I don't. Certainly not before the invasion.

These women don't deserve a strike force?

The most beautiful girl-child that I've ever seen on this tv just looked at me and told how they raped her;
the child held up her child.

4 year old rape victim.

Children so traumatized by the sight of men with guns, that somebody pointing a video camera terrifies them.

Soldier admitting to rape wearing a tee shirt bearing the image of Robert Marley, smiling;

Men trying to repair the bodies of women burned, torn apart by men.

(exhale)

(amin)

(imp grin)

This finally came today.
Hm....
Am going to have to study the rules to see how we can get away with having not wearing this bib like a bib.

My current best idea is to turn into a super hero cape. I was planning on some sort of tribute to Capt. Bike anyway.

I ended up not having to do the after school thing today. Wish I would have known sooner so I could have planned a ride. Decided to come home and start the frame wrapping project instead and go ahead and put the dread knobbies back on the Schwinn.

I feel pretty good about the wrapping, but I still think I should have gone for no overlap. Still a nice , if completely cosmetic (for now) change.

Before:



After:



I'd originally planned to wrap the head tube (you know, where the badge is) and the forks....but I'm not sure now. Wasn't sure about what to do with the current handlebar wrap either, but I just had an idea to use the remaining black cloth tape and try some kinda harlequin design.

At any rate, I finished this much and then put the knobby tires on the Mesa. Ever since I've gotten more into efficiency I've despised the knobby tires more and more. Funny thing is, once I got out with them, not only was riding not a chore, it was actually quite fun. When you don't have to ride them every day, the mid-low buzz-roar the make going downhill on pavement is actually quite enchanting.

Now I understand how those two car people feel.

(rich bastards)

My intent was to tear up and down the hills at Silver Lake for about an hour, but I realized about 10 minutes in that the wheels on that bike are quite un-true. Decided to bring it back in rather than paint my rim black with my brake pad. There were even some decent little muck puddles forming, too.

Alas...there is always the morrow.

{inshallah}

More Bwaha

bwahahahaha

(and such)

More dreamtime

Have you ever had a dream about somebody,
and there were ethnically divergent from their
real-life self?

Then there's that adultery thing...

Ah, noni. how I miss thee.

Low Road

While walking into SI terminal, having just disembarked from the boat,

got a full double-one-finger from adolescent mugging behind the glass doors -

Returned fire with a sly-waist-high.

Now, I'm sure I should've waited and asked the young person what the purpose was, instructed him on the impropriety of the act.
Afterward it occurred to me that I should've taken his picture and posted it around the island in hopes it would get back to his parental unit.

But I always seem to think of what I "should've done/said".
But that ain't nothing new, right?

Yet more proof of a distinct lack of super-humanity.

I should've stayed in theory.

(howl)

Don't tell me a beat can't make you cry.

Hell, made me moan some.

Funny how making a certain sound can well one up.

Well.

Wail.

Wail one up.

(p.s.: keep clickin' the backgrounds! It's the jawn!!)

Hm.

Girls and Cars

more specifically, a grown-ass woman and what may be the first electric car produced by an American, traditionally ICE car co.

Interesting pic, no?

although, the speech is pretty standard/corporate.

Prolly not quite

Yunusian, but interesting nonetheless.

and while I'm pissed off about the game,

chicken and okra and whatever else was in there is the jawn.

Did you know they had brownie Jiffy Mix?

Diabetes is of the devil.

Through her what?

I didn't even know you could get there from there.

Perhaps I needed that high school sex ed class after all.

The Vapors

To keep you from the evil woman,
From the flattering tongue of a seductress,
Do not lust after her beauty in your heart,
Nor let her allure you with her eyelids.
For by means of a harlot, a man is reduced to
a crust of bread;
And an adultress will prey upon his precious life. (NKJV)

To keep you from ___ evil____,
From the flattering tongue of _ seduct(ion),
Do not lust after ___ beauty in your heart,
Nor let (it) allure you ____ ___ _______,
For by means of a harlot, (one's worth) is reduced to a
crust of bread*;
And an adult(erer) will prey upon ___ precious life. (hisi**)

* both the harlot and the harlotee
** how i see it***

*** (for what it's worth)

Training

(wrote a post about how I have not been riding as much as I should've been the past couple weeks,
yanked power cord out of computer while heading to kitchen for second helping of Jiffy Mix (c) Bran and Date murfin, for some reason blogger didn't autosave a draft.

so eff it)

(sigh)

It is new information for me that Dr. King's mother was murdered as well.

(fwiw)

"You can't stop pain,
you can only bear it until it's gone.
Then, it will make you a stronger person"

JS Foster - Losing the Light

Carl Nacht's Ghost Bike

Gothamist
BikeBlog








'07 NYC Marathon Medal. He'd run in every one from '06 back for 29 years. I guess somebody ran for him this year.

Random Crap

that would be on MySpace if I was ever silly enough to think Myspace was worthy of my phone's camera:




Political grafitti.



A Black History Month Poster in Harlem



One of the new fish tanks in the SI ferry terminal



How published poets get exposure in NYC



The dogs after a several blocks of walking the bike (stupid flat tire...)



Note: "Best of" does necessarily mean "good"
(SWV Video Soul interview - official classic)



Al Green wearing eyeliner



And how many high school bands do you know that have an album?
Rep, dammit.



Mr. Mohandas strolling in Union Square



Is treating a Ferrari like a pair of shoes proof
the inconsequence of money or tackiness?



Well......

A vs A-A

One wonders how much has changed in 10 years...

And this is why

you should always have a stage manager.

(preferably one that's awake)

Sheldon Brown's Blog

I'd never looked at this before.

What blog do you know of that goes all the way back to '75?

Strange thing to see somebody's thoughts up until their last day.

Hm.

Was only able to sleep 3 hrs. Guess I'll go for a ride.

I just registered

for the tour.

Now I need to get my wack ass back out on the bike.

I just realized I only have 5 weeks to get in the right shape.

The longest ride I've done included some pretty strong thigh cramps.

And that was under 40 miles, though I doubt I'll be pushing as hard as I did that day.

Sheldon Brown

Sheldon Brown is, for better or worse, the internet guru of bicycling. Feel free to run all over the internet for cycling info if you like, but all that will probably just lead back to his site (or links that lay therein).

So, by the time I came across this gentleman, he was being pelted daily with e-mail q's from, like, all of internet-dom. Back in '06 (remember when gas only cost $2.20/gal) I took to trolling eBay for cheap bikes to sell in the city/look for a road bike to keep. I finally came across a good deal that came with Shimano Biopace chainwheels - significant because they are slightly oblong. I read a few things about them and they supposedly gave you a some mechanical advantage at the top of the pedal revolution, thereby providing potential relief for those with tender knees.
Having already been made acquainted with Mr. Brown's site, I looked around there for more info and found that he, in fact still rode using these long-discontinued components. At long last I finally had a legitimate question to ask the master (not that I'd been looking). I sent him an inquiry (more than likely convoluted in its wording) asking if there was a particular technique he used when pedaling the Biopace.
His response:

"Just ride".

Well, I'd been blessed with a response by the master. Although I'm pretty sure I took some time wondering if the brevity of the response was an indication the depth of his consideration - or the level of dumb inherent in the question....

Well, while looking up info on tires, I came across a reference to Mr. Brown that made it seem as though he was no longer with us.

In fact, he passed in Febuary. Heart attack. He was only 63. I had no idea that he'd been diagnosed with multiple schlerosis.

This information makes me that much more determined to participate in this year's 5 Boro Bike Tour.

I think I've finally become accustomed to the idea that I've been here long enough for people I know leaving this plane of existence to not be an entirely unique experience.

One thing I can certainly say it's teaching me is that

there is NEVER
anytime
likethepresent.

So why not now?

Thanks for the help, Mr. Brown.

Peace.

I am increasingly

aware of my fetishes.

And, I think,

progressively less subject to them.

Revision a:

One's dreams and one's skills don't always lie in the same bed.

Revision a:b

One's dreams and one's skills don't always rest in the same bed.

(I'm trying to find the right fulfillment of the metaphor...)

I am currently in a play

that I don't exactly like,
that I'm technically not supposed to be doing,
with a backstage that doesn't quite jibe with my personal philosophy
and a stage crew that is fairly non-existent,
(although, we found out this past weekend that things seem to happen better
with fewer people back there anyway),
in a space where I have to compete with weekend birthday parties,
(at what point will multi-use spaces start scheduling events so they don't interfere with
each other?),

but I look forward to it.

The play no longer feels like it takes 3 days to finish.
I actually seem to enjoy figuring out how to work around the audience participation.
(it's also nice to have been the one in the cast who knew what to expect from the Black Theatre Audience Experience).

I decided to try the after-school program and a gig at the same time to see if I could maintain the energy. I expected to learn more working with the kids. Well, to this point I feel like the most I've learned is that I may actually have the need to act that elder actors have spoken of. I think this is the first time I've ever been in the middle of a project - the beginning to me, really, since previews first started last week - and I'm already hungry to work after this project is over.

I've felt the need, but I never expected it to grow.

All this when I was very resigned to going back south - and comfortable in that resignation.

Being here requires justification. If you're not here and actively doing something, it wears on you.

There's a part of me that doesn't want to be one of those people who exist in New York just so they can act, be a part of the "community"; but I can't deny that is part of the draw.

Whenever I leave here, it will be one of the things I miss. Maybe I'll be fortunate enough to find it elsewhere. I'd want it to be born out of the creation of something that was necessary -

Not just because I missed having people clap.

(shrug)

[ramblerambleramble]

I need a hug.

There. I said it.

........what?

Though I'm suspicious of the precision of this report,
I will nonetheless use it's prospect to propose substantiation
of my position on the over-sexualization of today's youth.

(well, American society in general, really)

(or something like that)

Sex is used to sell EVERYTHING to us,
then we're told it's wrong,
(but get as much as you can *wink*)

Now you got a bunch of confused gals with the clap.

politico-pseudo-prudism isn't the answer
porn-osity isn't the answer.

For something that seems like it should be so easy to come by,
normal sure is hard to find.

I am not your

nigger
nigga
niggah
nigguh
nigg
nagga
nyuhka
nyooka
nooka

or other current/future spelling varied for justification's sake...

I have no appreciation of the pimp...

And any possibility of being a player has been undermined by my inability to wield any 'semblence of game.

Now, if I would ever become brave enough to say the above to people of the same sex and similar anthropology as me,

I might actually believe it.

Forgot to mention,

Ralph Carter came to the opening Saturday night. He appears to intend to nominate it for an Audelco.

Because I despise those words,

I submit these:

Don't hate the hater,
Hate the shame.

Posting in Ingles

Has the number of non-english Blogspot bloggers increased this much, or did all the english-typers just go to Facebook and Myspace?

Who actually reads blogs on Myspace?

Dreamtime Is a Mutha

Strange dream just now.

Current FF, who I've suspected of being desirous of more than that, is staying over at house - parents house for some reason.

(skipping ahead)

Attempts an oral act - at which point I fall asleep (in the dream)

I wake up, and of the acted-upon member has been removed* (though healed and still capable of being acted upon).

(skipping ahead)

I confront FF and end up slamming FF face-first into certain fairly stationary objects like the wall, floor.

I leave FF upside down where she appears deceased.

Time shifts to the late 19th, very early 20th century. FF reappears talking to (a woman who is apparently runs the house as my family is apparently wealthy in this dream). I take from what I see that this was all just an attempt by FF to get a raise.

(shrug)

*I checked, it's still there.

In celebration of

Black I-Hope-You-Learned-Something-Now-What-? Month,

I present the only one of these that has mattered. (thusfar)

And the text...
(certain musical elements have been removed for the sake of clarity)


Well, today's topic, self destruction
It really ain't the rap audience that's buggin
It's one or two suckas, ignorant brothers
Trying to rob and steal from one another
You get caught in the mid
So to crush the stereotype here's what we did
We got ourselves together so that you could unite
and fight for what's right
Not negative 'cause the way we live is positive
We don't kill our relatives



Pop pop pop when it's shot who's to blame?
Headlines, front page, and rap's the name
MC Delight's here to state the bottom line
That black on black crime was way before our time


Took a brother's life with a knife as his wife
Cried cause he died a trifling death
When he left his very last breath
Was I slept so watch your step
Back in the sixties our brothers and sisters were hanged
How could you gang bang?
I never ever ran from the Ku Klux Klan
and I shouldn't have to run from a black man cause that's



Funky Fresh dressed to impress ready to party
Money in your pocket, dying to move your body
To get inside you paid the whole ten dollars
Scotch taped with a razor blade taped to your collar
Leave the guns and the crack and the knives alone
MC Lyte's on the microphone
Bum rushin and crushin, snatchin and taxin
I cram to understand why brother's don't be maxin
There's only one disco, they'll close one more
You ain't guarding the door so what you got a gun for?
Do you rob the rich and give to the poor?
Yo Daddy-O, school em some more 



Straight from the mouth of Wise and Daddy-O
Do a crime end up in jail and gotta go
Cause you could do crime and get paid
today And tomorrow you're behind bars in the worst way
Far from your family, cause you're locked away
Now tell me, do you really think crime pays?
Scheming on taking what your brother has?
You little suckers.. you talkin' all that jazz.



It's time to stand together in a unity
Cause if not then we're soon to be
Self destroyed, unemployed
The rap race will be lost without a trace
Or a clue but what to do
Is stop the violence and kick the science
Down the road that we call eternity
Where knowledge is formed and you'll learn to be
Self-sufficient, independent
To teach to each is what rap intended
But society wants to invade So do not walk this path they laid.



Ms. Melodie
I'm Ms. Melodie and I'm a born again rebel
The violence in rap must cease and settle
If we want to develop and grow to another level
We can't be guinea pigs for the devil
The enemy knows, they're no fools
Because everyone knows that hip-hop rules
So we gotta get a grip and grab what's wrong T
he opposition is weak and rap is strong


Doug E. Fresh
This is all about, no doubt, to stop violence
But first let's have a moment of silence
...
swing Things been stated re-educated,
evaluated THoughts of the past have faded
The only thing left is the memories
of our belated and I hate it, when
Someone dies and gets all hurt up
For a silly gold chain by a chump;
Word up
It doesn't make you a big man,
and to want to go out and dis your brother man,
and you don't know that's part of the plan
Why? Cause rap music is in full demand.
Understand


My name is Just-Ice a man not a prankster
I was known... as the gangster
But believe me that is no fun
The time is now to unite everyone
You don't have to be soft to be for peace
Robbin' and killin'and muderin is the least
You don't have to be chained by the beast
But party people it's time I release!


Aaayyyo here's the situation:
Idiocy Nonsense, violence,
not a good policy
Therefore we must ignore, fightin and fussin
Hev is at the door so there'll be no bum rushin
Let's get together so we don't be fallin apart
I heard a brother shot another. It broke my heart
I don't understand the difficulty, people
Love your brother, treat him as an equal
They call us animals uhnn uhnn I don't agree with them
I'll prove them wrong,
but right is what your proving them
Take heed before I lead to what I'm sayin
Or we'll all be on our knees, prayin



Yo Heavy D, deep in the heart of the matter
The self destruction is served on a platter
Makin a date not failing to aniticipate
They got greedy so they fell for the bait
That makes them a victim, picked then plucked
New jack in jail, but to the vets they're a duck
There's no one to rob, cause in jail you're a number
They never took the time to wonder about




Yes we urge to merge we live for the love
Of our people the hope that they get along
(Yeah, so we did a song)
Getting the point to our brothers and sisters
Who don't know the time (boyyyee, so we wrote a rhyme)
It's dead in your head, you know,
I'll drive to build And collect
ourselves with intellect,
come on To revolve to evolve to self respect
Cause we got to keep ourselves in check
Or else it's...

Self Destruction, ya headed for Self Destruction
Self Destruction, ya headed for Self Destruction

Africana

You mean BETJ has an entire show dedicated to films from the continent?

I didn't even know I got BETJ.

In other news: pork really does suck. I thought I was getting shredded chicken...guess I know what "carnitas" means now....

(ack)

Ayo

Perhaps this is what Lena Horne would look like if she'd been born half-a-century later.

Maybe not.

edit!

Watch this....okay, now see that thing she did with her mouth right at 5 seconds in.....

I'm sayin', tho, right?? I'm sayin'!!! Like, sassy-but-completely-innocent??!

Ya'll 'scuse me, I think I need time alone.....

I wonder if I'll

be this ready to get out of NY once Spring springs.

I wonder I'd be this ready if I'd gotten home (or somewhere) for Christmas.

(shrug)

Brandie Bailey's Ghost Bike

Ghost bikes below 14th can become fairly permanent installations. The ones around Times Square seem to disappear after a time (as much pun intended as necessary).

To Brandie....

Frank Scorcia's Ghost Bike

At the corner of Broadway & 40th.


12/6/07.

Note to Harris County Pedestrians:

STOP TRYING TO CROSS THE DAMN FREEWAY

(or beltway, or anything else with no traffic lights)

Resolved

IF a heart must be broken in 2008:


well...


don't.

"Yeah,

but why he do the same dunk, tho?"

Magic funny.

At 2:50a, on what is now

the day AFTER dia de los be$os, my apartment-lord and his girlfriend are conspiring to drive me batty with their cuteness. All I need now is some sounds of passion and one will certainly be better advised to check for me near the big red splat on the pavement 'neath my window rather than at either of my appointments for the day.

Well...

what do you think?

(u big hater, u.)

3rd day

Seemed like we had them.... and they went stupider than they ever have before.

Had to yell to break a "you a bitch" battle. Made myself hoarse in 30 seconds.

(which prolly don't speak well what I'm trying to sell to them about efficient voice use)

Scary part is, I think I can go louder. Imagine if I'd supported myself!

There are ones there who really want to be there. After seeing them so disappointed at having to leave, then come back and have the class break down again was...I guess "heartbreaking" is the word, but it seems trite in context...

...
......
........

(shrug)

For me, the problem

with the metaphor is that it's the "building" that's in the bag, not the cookies. The misdirected elements "building" and "bag" in their poor use weaken the usefulness of "cookies" as a symbol.

...not that he and great writing are traditionally associated.

Other news:
Just so we're clear, the Giants have officially overplayed the "underdog, 18-1 giant-killer, nobody believed us" thing with that goofy stomp performed in front of city hall. From this point on, it's whining - trophy or no trophy.

And shouldn't we have known that the Patriots were doomed the second it was obvious that Brady'd begun enjoying the media's brie*?

(* in the event you wanted to see what a metaphor looks like that requires thought, but maintains relation)

Like red tape?

You'd love P.A.L.

Too many people.

Too little communication.

Piled on top of kids who being place in after school activities they didn't choose.

(funkyasseyeroll)

First Day

Group leader had no (apparent) idea that we had the kids for 3:30p.

Started 10-15mins late due to trying to figure out whe no-one was there at 3:30p.

Felt under-prepared.

Good news:

Only one group of 10/11

In other news:

Boys start being assholes early.

Carry on...

As of Jan 18, 2008,

nobody's read my blog!

I blame the writer's strike!

Ha!

addendum 2/11/08:
Forgot to add statcounter tag back to template after change. You remember stuff like that when you do it the hard way. Damn the automation.

All Full Force, All the Time

no, I'm not kidding.

And I wanted my dad's Nova.

And he's only 16.

A Quote About Cats

found on the LPSG forum:

The only thing on a cat's mind when it is with people is: "if you were smaller, I could eat you." No, I wasn't looking for support when I found this page.

"Just let it slide..."

yesterday I had my first raw oyster.

I lived.

Wasn't quite brave enough for that "juice", though.

For the record, I elected to go with the chew method.

Methinks I'd like to try geoduck now,

cooked, however.

8O

I just took a job assistant-teaching the youth....


(....)


ho-lee-shite

.

:)

(hee hee)

How funny is it

that, during a halftime show sponsored by Sprint, Dan Marino's phone rings twice...

with the T-Mobile trademark chime.

(yummy)

Although one's surprised that Marino wouldn't be classy enough to use his own ring.

Hm.

viva la GIMP

For those who need Photoshop,

but don't want to pay for Photoshop,

consider the free alternative:

(for windows)

(for mac)

There are free versions of most major software.

See what happens when you try GNU things?

concernation

This morning, I awoke, realizing that I'd fallen asleep with the TV on; thinking that I'd only been asleep for two hours...

But it was closer to 6.

At first this was a pleasant thought. I've been wanting to get on a more regular sleep schedule.

Then I remembered that I was purposely trying not to fall asleep because I has something COOKING on the range.

I got up, went to the kitchen - no burning smell, the pan I was using was in the sink and the bowl I'd taken out was gone. I assumed the roommate had intervened in my attempt to make a bonfire of the building. However, there were no remnants in the trash indicative of the event. I checked to see if he'd put the evidence in the fridge to microwave - nope.

Feeling MUCH like an ass, I assumed that he'd bagged it separately and thrown it down the chute, came back into the room

It was at this point that I saw the bowl I'd taken out sitting on my computer chair containing residue of what I'd had on the stove and believed myself to have fallen asleep making.

I thought that it might have been something I made earlier that day, but I remember this being the specific bowl I took out due to the chip on the rim and the ringing sound it makes when placed down due to a crack long hairline crack. I even specifically remember the one whole and two halves of bay leaf that I put in the pan that were in the bowl.

So, now, instead of being more relieved that I didn't put the building in danger, I'm seriously concerned that I have no recollection of getting up, putting this food in a bowl, returning to the room and eating it.

I've admitted to half-sleep eating before, but I usually have some cloudy memory of it. I have completely NO RECOLLECTION of this event. I even started considering the possibility of missing time...

or maybe this body is just getting old....wasted motion finally caught up....

hope there's no precipitation today. desperately need bike ride

Chi McBride,

on the other hand, deserves to be awarded for his work in
Let's Go to Prison.

Thank you, Cinemax

for introducing me to the worst, most sexually gratuitous, exploitive,

yet poorly acted

bit of tripe thus far committed to film.

And, of course, somebody of color eats it first.

Shall'nt grant it the pleasure of a plug.

MAN,

I wish I could record in an e-mail the scent coming from the oven right now.

There's something almost sweet potato about it, but there's nothing in there that's tuber-ish...

I swear I smell nutmeg, but I know ain't in there. Then again, I guess I should check the Jiffy Mix box.

More Random Info

I did a reading of the Changeling with this actor.

For the record, I read the part of the changeling.

Of course, the story isn't really about that character....

Hoo-ray

for that choklit moka chile conducting the Georgia marching band on the tel-e-vision right now!.

Progress

During a conversation with my sister yesterday, she used the words

"love him to death"

in reference to my father.


(eyebrows)

More Guffawing at Consumerism

Why does this continue to be excessively funny to me?

Papa Smurf!

For real!

But how did they know what he had

on his hard drive?

I have officially switched to the side of those who'd rather buy digital and burn their own.

Pretty cover and liner notes be damned.

(ahem)

BWAAAAAAHAAHAHAAAA!!!

And I get to keep the stuff; the store don't sell it, so the can't say it's theirs?

Man, please....

(hee, hee)

David Smith's Ghost Bike

at the corner of 6th and 36th.

(explanation of a ghost bike)

I saw the bike while on my way to a print casting. A while back I'd thought of taking pic of all the ghost bikes that I saw in the city, but I didn't make a habit of carrying a camera and my list of unfulfilled intentions is long and broad.

The other night/morning, while doing a (ridiculous 35 degree, not including the wind and light-rain) ride on the West Side Bikeway, I saw a ghost bike near the entrance to the NYPD impound yard. The bikeway itself is the safest bike lane in the city, but the places where there are intersects with traffic - particularly at that intersection - seem to be deadly (<- not hyperbole). While reading about Smith's collision, it occurred to me

1. that I typically ride in traffic
2. how unconsciously nervous I am of doors opening when riding in bike lane

Manhattan is fairly narrow, so I'll generally make my way over to the WSB if there's not another stop I plan to make. Riding in traffic is, for me a challenge thing - it feels good to realize that you're keeping up with or making better progress than traffic.

However, I don't do this that often. And I have definitely felt the places where it feels more scary than thrilling/enjoyable to ride and typically avoid them. I also tend to not ride inside the city during rush hours - so I won't encounter the problem as much as people who are true bicycle commuters.

That said, these are my observations as someone who has been a cyclists, driver and pedestrian in the city:

Pedestrians are oblivious to everything.
Drivers are oblivious to everything but cops.
I find myself the most aware of my surroundings as a cyclist -
but cyclists AIN'T perfect.

It seems like riders tend to be listening to audio devices less,
and talking on cellphones less (though I've seen it happen)
and fumbling with items less.

And for those who are trying to admonish a dead man for not wearing a helmet,
you should just as well be chastising him for not wearing a suit of armor - though it would have done just as well as a helmet to protect him from internal injuries. Remember: pedestrians have sidewalks; cyclists, even where there are painted bike lanes, are in the street.

It just so happens that I noticed the bike the day of the memorial ride - I wish I would've known about it before it happened.

A central non-automobile corridor in this city would be nice. Regardless, as long as people, bikes and cars are allowed to share the same thoroughfares, there has got to be better commuter education.

blessings to the those who orbited in Mr. Smith's universe;
honesty and peace to the mind of the driver & passenger of the car,
and to the driver of the truck.

One person eating a 7 Layer

chocolate cake (that takes 200 eggs to make), should not only be NOT comp'ed. They should be charged extra.


Gluttony should be discouraged.


(eyeroll)

(rouge)

So, I'm looking at this script, and I get to this part where I have to be embarrassed -

I'm thinking I want to try it more innocent, test my ability to bring color to the cheeks,

And I find a place/sensation that I think is what I'm feeling for;

And, of course somebody walks by and my eye shoots over to watch said body,

Catching me genuinely in the moment I just discovered somewhat sense memory-aly.

Preparation is fun. Shame I don't do it more.

I just realized

that the E70 that I'm currently using - that I said I was going to sell - can recognize the contacts spoken to it. My old 6360 and 6560 did voice tags, but you had to speak it and assign your own voice tag to each contact. They matched the sound of your voice to the sound of your recorded voice.

This one recognizes unrecorded speech.

Cool.

Hell, for all I know this is, by now, passe'.

But I like it.

Every time I'm ready to get out, it pulls me back in.

And why is it

still ONLY 10:53.

You know what?

Eff it.

This chile thass serving as today's supervisor?

(yeah, back at that place again)

Yeah...I wanna bite her booty. Iss pritty and says stuff to me when she pass by.

Granted, she was prolly still pushing through elementary while I was giving people the false impression I was earning my scholarship...

(wait, I don't think I fooled anybody then)

-- ok, that was the second time she came over here and I had to switch windows -- I Spy secret *ish. Ha!

Nevertheless, such is the state of life.

Ok. I got that out of my fingers.

God, make me a healer.

Okay.......

last hour.

If they your "friends",

then you can call them and tell them to come to the front and get you. I don't know where their office is. I'm not supposed to let you wander around and, frankly, did you a favor in letting you upstairs without them having called to get you on the visitor list first. I've been calling their office for some time now and nobody's answering. Nobody left word with me that they can be reached in another office. This, to me, indicates that they are either not here OR have no desire to be bothered.

Again, you have their number. Feel free to leave what you have and contact them yourself.

Peace,
A Dude with at Least One college degree that don't mean much who don't mind telling you I put nearly no importance in the self-importance you take from your place in the "fashion" "industry".

**Update**

Irate lawyer complaining about calls going to his house.

Office contact (read: supervisor-of-the-day)

1) apparently doesn't listen to me TELL her that the man is getting calls forwarded to his home phone.

2) Scapegoats me while I'm sitting right next to her as though I didn't tell her that he was getting calls forwarded to his home phone.

(the ability to absorb blame is a temp job skill -
once you figure that out, it keeps you hired)

(when thumbs twiddle)

At a temp job for the day, first time back in an office in 3 months.
First time in 3 years and change working on wall street.
First time in a building with "Trump" on its edifice.
First time using tel. system connected to a PC.
First time wearing this tie.

"I was expecting a woman"

(no *ish)

Four hours of sleep from 8p - 12a last night
(lemme alone, I got distracted)

It's STILL not 10a yet.

I move by the strength of God -
by the grace of God, go i.

{Hey, look 10 o'clock! }

3 hours 'til halftime.

(twiddle)

At this point, I prefer (twiddle) to the alternative.

funny *ish* that's been said about me

From MySpace:

What the hell play are you in?!?! I've never met a professional actor who's a closet actor...how does that work?

Via the grapevine, paraphrased statement made about me and somebody else by a same-sex loving male,:

those are two biggest straight queens I've ever seen.

If you don't have anything useful to say,

take the opportunity to listen.


Is it possible to preach with your ears?

Experiment:

1) Stand

2) turn your head

3) cup your lobe

4) let me know if somebody says "amen".

:#

Just so we're clear:

CRACK killed Applejack.

He jumped in, but he couldn't

(what?)

jump back.

(cuzsee, now)

DEATH

lives in the rock house. ~~~~~~

kcarc.

Theorem: Social Science Edition

I think I think that:

how poor people exist now has changed.

I remember a time when it seemed like the poorest people were the ones who exhibited the most faith in a/the higher power. They had very little that was tangible, so their capital consisted mostly of the intangible and that was typically where they had the most invested.

Now, it seems like the only people who can afford/afford to have time to believe in God are the middle class and up (peepyourlocalneighborhoodmegachurchandtellmeifyouthinksomebodypoorwouldbecomfortablegoingthere).

Simplified,

(g/God) = hope

In the past, po' folks, if nothing else, had God.

Now,
after the foreclosure on their faith by the specter of survival in daily life,

maybe folks can no longer afford to hope.



So, how to you convince somebody to

spend

some

time

praying?


(shrug)

Award Shows

I've been to my first (as a nominant).

I've been to my last ( as a nominant ).

It seems sensless to me to put oneself in a competitive environment, when that which is being graded was not created for the purpose of the competition.

(and of course, it could be, maybe it was - but not by me)

If I can't genuinely clap for yo sh!t, I really would prefer to not burden you with the poison of my presence.

At least not unless I think I deserve a little stomach distress.

{shrug}


*although, it did afford me the opportunity to be hit with a line. Well, when women do it it seems much less like one;

"you look lost"

"I'll give you this...but you have to promise to use it"

(eyebrow)

...

I wonder

how many people born on the continent of Africa,

typically along the central western coast and somewhat central inland,

have asked the questions they weren't supposed to ask
of the people who refused to answer
and searched for a barely-to-non-existant paper trail

in order to find their distant blood relatives on the other side of the water....

who really aren't distant by so long ago.

If there are 360 degrees in a circle, why do there seem to be an infinite amount of perspectives?

hm.

Same-Sex Rape Justice in Dubai

courtesy of the NY Times (who FINALLY made their web content free)

In Rape Case, a French Youth Takes On Dubai

Correction Appended

DUBAI, United Arab Emirates, Oct. 31 — Alexandre Robert, a French 15-year-old, was having a fine summer in this tourist paradise on the Persian Gulf. It was Bastille Day and he and a classmate had escaped the July heat at the beach for an air-conditioned arcade.

Just after sunset, Alex says he was rushing to meet his father for dinner when he bumped into an acquaintance, a 17-year-old, who said he and his cousin could drop Alex off at home.

There were, in fact, three Emirati men in the car, including a pair of former convicts ages 35 and 18, according to Alex. He says they drove him past his house and into a dark patch of desert, between a row of new villas and a power plant, took away his cellphone, threatened him with a knife and a club, and told him they would kill his family if he ever reported them.

Then they stripped off his pants and one by one sodomized him in the back seat of the car. They dumped Alex across from one of Dubai’s luxury hotel towers.

Alex and his family were about to learn that despite Dubai’s status as the Arab world’s paragon of modernity and wealth, and its well-earned reputation for protecting foreign investors, its criminal legal system remains a perilous gantlet when it comes to homosexuality and protection of foreigners.

The authorities not only discouraged Alex from pressing charges, he, his family and French diplomats say; they raised the possibility of charging him with criminal homosexual activity, and neglected for weeks to inform him or his parents that one of his attackers had tested H.I.V. positive while in prison four years earlier.

“They tried to smother this story,” Alex said by phone from Switzerland, where he fled a month into his 10th-grade school year, fearing a jail term in Dubai if charged with homosexual activity. “Dubai, they say we build the highest towers, they have the best hotels. But all the news, they hide it. They don’t want the world to know that Dubai still lives in the Middle Ages.”

Alex and his parents say they chose to go public with his case in the hope that it would press the authorities to prosecute the men.

United Arab Emirates law does not recognize rape of males, only a crime called “forced homosexuality.” The two adult men charged with sexually assaulting Alex have pleaded not guilty, although sperm from all three were found in Alex. The two adults appeared in court on Wednesday and were appointed a lawyer. They face trial before a three-judge panel on Nov. 7. The third, a minor, will be tried in juvenile court. Legal experts here say that men convicted of sexually assaulting other men usually serve sentences ranging from a few months to two years.

Dubai is a bustling financial and tourist center, one of seven states that form the United Arab Emirates. At least 90 percent of the residents of Dubai are not Emirati citizens and many say that Alex’s Kafkaesque legal journey brings into sharp relief questions about unequal treatment of foreigners here that have long been quietly raised among the expatriate majority. The case is getting coverage in the local press.

It also highlights the taboos surrounding H.I.V. and homosexuality that Dubai residents say have allowed rampant harassment of gays and have encouraged the health system to treat H.I.V. virtually in secret. (Under Emirates law, foreigners with H.I.V., or those convicted of homosexual activity, are deported.)

Prosecutors here reject such accusations. “The legal and judicial system in the United Arab Emirates makes no distinction between nationals and non-nationals,” said Khalifa Rashid Bin Demas, head of the Dubai attorney general’s technical office, in an interview. “All residents are treated equally.”

Dubai’s economic miracle — decades of double-digit growth spurred by investors, foreign companies, and workers drawn to the tax-free Emirates — depends on millions of foreigners, working jobs from construction to senior positions in finance. Even many of the criminal court lawyers are foreigners.

Alex’s case has raised diplomatic tensions between the Emirates and France, which has lodged official complaints about the apparent cover-up of one assailant’s H.I.V. status and other irregularities. The tension and growing publicity over the case seem to have prompted the authorities to take action.

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Correction: November 10, 2007

A front-page article on Nov. 2 about the accusation that a French boy was raped in Dubai referred incorrectly, using information from a police report, to the American School in Dubai and a 17-year-old suspect in the case. The suspect is not a student at the American School, and the school says it has no Emiratis enrolled.

Power Lines

Today at a print casting for a mobile phone/technology company:

Lady from the agency seemed hesitant since my hair won't "'fro out".

Photographer says to take it anyway and let "them" decide because "his smile is electric".


If only the Piano Lesson audition had gone as well.

Hell, maybe it did.

(shrug to the past)

Time to read Topdog!

Shirley Chislolm

and her entirely too and therefore perfectly west African nose
and her gapped on the side(?!!) teeth

{there is that part of me that wishes they were still that way,}

With that lisp that's filled with ev-er-y bit and more
of the knowledge necessary to, oh, I don't know

be president?....

was and is...

wow.



Go, Brooklyn.

Electr(on)ic Commerce-zation

One down.

8 to go.

thass they Grammar; let it be...

Somebody just sent me an e-mail containing the following phrase:

"I drug myself out of the bed"

My first instinct was to reply with a humorous correction,

but I thought about it...

and in the milli-moment it took to do so,

the parad'oxymoro/niceness of it felt good like
somebody taking some cocoa butter on their
forefinger and rubbing gently my tragus.

(so i let it be)

Breakfast

greenappl
ehoney&al
mondbutte
ronArnold
sNaturalW
heat&Flax
isthejawn

Sick Sux

n/m

Et'mology

Peep post #184, 3rd word from end of first sentence/stanza.

Click here a definition via example (and to know what that excessively long thread is about, anyway).

On the Way Up the Hill...

Why do we age/deteriorate?

Given human propensity for self-inducing death

• war
• folly
• what-have-you

is it biologically necessary?

We certainly don't need it to thin the herd.

Why does nature need for cells to decrease in function until there is seizure?

Perpetual existence would seem to be a better choice given the amount of energy that goes into procreation/rearing.

.
..

Maybe...

The reason for age, is so we have a reason to try. Because, if you had forever, procrastination is much more a convenience.

So, maybe we need the prospect of an impending end to drive is to reach such that we might attain within the amount of time we have.

The concept of time itself, I would argue, is a result of a society's preoccupation with death (avoiding it).

Without aging(-->death), we are the Eloi,

maybe.

(shrug)

Mikey Simon Quotes of the Day

1. "A script is just a prison made of words."


2. "A boss is just a prison made of skin."

The Sissy Duckling

Currently running on HBO, title character voiced by Harvey Firestein.

If you haven't figured out the plot of this re-visioned fable, well, I sure hope it doesn't get too cool underneath that rock.

Kokujin

One gentleman's experience of being (a) in a (b) world.

Nina Got Something

HeeHee

(she sed "boobie")

I wonder if she knew she was gawjuss

>ay, mis pezóns!<

Kwamé Shows Me His Ass

This morning's recollected dream (I'm not kidding):

Apparently, I'm a music producer in this one.

Big Daddy Kane is doing a new album, it's produced by Kwamé. We're discussing what this new sound will be like. I bring up Kwamé's New Jack sound, whether he's going for that again. His response is incredulously "not". He seems to think "I got jokes". Kwamé, his ego having reared itself, leaves.

There was some reference to ass, so, on his way out Kwamé sets forth to show me his - literally. I avoid having my eyes make contact with it.

Having Mr. Kane's full attention, I set forth to begin a dialogue about current styles and play him "Oh"* from the ARE's Dem Damb Jacksons EP.

Having "won", dream state drifts into awakeness.

-

Though it wasn't a truly lucid dream experience, I did feel in control - it didn't feel as things were happening around me. It was unaware lucidity**.

* the beat for which I find to be quite nearly replete with butterynipplegoodness

** the phrase "subconscious lucidity" tweaks my fancy more, but it feels too similar to "lucid dream". I hate ambiguous terminology.

(raised eyebrow, upturned lower lip)

This past Thursday, while on the S67, I saw an individual with both an iPod le Touche and an iPhone.



amuse us with your feeble attempts to explain how this fails to defeat the purpose.

Martin Short Is That Dude!

The Misadventures of Ed Grimley is on Boomerang!

Ha!!

I should be asleep !

HA!!