Friday, March 31, 2006

Howdy. Irrelevance reigns as the sky pours. Beer is good. Writing shit down is invaluable for record keeping and the tracks of time not withering said unspoken words into the dust of the incinerator of history. Or something like that.

I’ve rarely felt this powerful and this useless at the same time. In so many sections of my quadrant, whatever the fuck that means. Useless sentences are my mask from reality, both for you & myself. Steering the wheel of a vast ship, pondering significances, while paradoxically never doubting. Maybe only in the middle of the night when I wake up and stare at that ceiling, counting the nonexistent pixels of drywall. Which I don’t. if you know what the fuck any of this balderdash means send me a telegram, attention jurk storr. I won't get it. It's the thought that counts.

Feh. Anyway. Oh yeah, it’s raymi’s birthday. Go tell her she’s the best at what she does and what she does is fill in the blank. Canadian not so pseudo celebrity, if apparencies can be trusted. One of the few bloggers to successfully match wits & swords with that pringles backup dancer. check your local listings for further updates. The future will be now when vogue cover models are wearing helmets made of frozen german beer and pop divas do the polka while listening to ultramagnetic tracks dubbed over liberace chords.

I have to start working on my horror movie screen play. I think the idea is solid. It’s a story about a boy and his dog, except the boy is all grown up and the dog is dead. And the boy, now a man, is pissed, and his dad didn’t help matters. Oh and there’s this other dude that kills everyone. And the beach. And William Randolph Hearst’s house as a backdrop for a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Except the cat is like this guy that drives a tractor that’s possessed by the devil. Except there are no tractors in this story.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

hey, wuddup, this is a metaphorical news break. Well, notch down & make note of the first mention on the innernet of the book. Gracias to Annika for kicking peeps over to the shop for me to wile and dazzle with footwork.

I’ll go ahead and reprint here what she said so you don’t think I’m trying to be bashful or some shit:

Literary News
Ultrablognetic, the book. By fellow Cal Bear, longtime blogroll denizen, comic lover, and one of the coolest practitioners of the art of free association: Alfred Pennyworth (or whatever name he's going by these days). Congratulations dude.

Thanks again, Annika, thou art too kind.

Speaking of people talking about me on the innernet, Natalia made a mention of me a couple weeks ago, but it wasn’t in such a pleasant light:

Alfred used to link to me, but he doesn't anymore. Link swaps are not a requirement, of course, but ever since he took me down, I've felt sad when I click on him. And the clicks have become rare. He's got a brilliant blog that I just don't read anymore. I used to get it, but not anymore. Goodbye for now.

As you know, it’s all about me. Sorry you don't get my shit anymore, Natalia, hey, join the club, neither do I most of the time. Har har. No, really, though. Kind of a funny story, there. Or not. If you recall, and there’s really no way that you do, I ixnayed all the links like, a year ago? 2? Anyway, as I was rebuilding there were many people forgotten, sadly she among them. Not to say she doesn’t have a great blog. Glob. She does. Check it out, current news in fact, she’s a dukie (not to be confused with a dookie, har har) and has the scoops metaphorically or literally, not sure which, on this whole lacrosse team rape dillio.

And, in other news? Well, I’m reading this bukowski book. Fucking great. Factotum. Did you know they made a movie out of it, starring matt Dillon? The trailer is well worth the 3 minutes of your life it will take to check it out. The book is just unbelievably good (so far at least), which I guess is kind of a synonym of "fucking great." In any event, I gotta take a piss, so be safe, America, or Uzbekistan, or wherever the hell you are. Aloha mahalo nui loa plus etcetera.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Hello. This is the first document I am writing on our new macintosh computer. I have never had a macintosh computer before. The last apple I had was an apple IIC. That’s right, the one that looks like a little suitcase typewriter, you know the one, the one that that guy across the street threw into his garbage can in 1993 after finally realizing that pong was dead. Ok I made that part up. But I must say I enjoy and like, even though those words don’t mean the exact same thing but are still startlingly (!) similar, this apple macintosh computer. It is an eMac. They have been discontinued. I’m glad I was able to be a part of this line of fine computers (if fine they indeed are, time will tell) alive. I feel that throwing things into the deadwood of opposite of popular culture, well, not really opposite, but, you know, like the voidal side dish? Of that which is known and unknown, is not only despicable but should not be popular. Which leads to the whole argument of whether you should hate something or love something or intentionally be ambivalent about something because it is popular. When it comes to this topic I will admit that I have been in all three camps at various times in my life. The funny thing about such a concept as that is that you can think you are being one, yet are in actuality, especially when seen from the perspectives of others, definitely being another. It is fascinating while at the same time being quite boring. I really must sit down and analyze my predisposition to having to present both if not three or more sides to every story, or at least every concept, that falls from my fingers on this keyboard, up onto the screen, and eventually into your mind, whoever you are. It’s really quite efficient yet inefficient at the same time. And there I go again. Let me explain. Efficient in that it allows me to cover the bases of an argument, within myself, and thereby see other perspectives and fully (at least more than would otherwise be the case) invest myself in not just one side but the possibility of other angles. It is incredibly (ok, maybe not so) inefficient in that it wastes my time and yours by veering off into various tangents, when quite often interesting and informative writing is to the point and doesn’t dilly dally trying to sell you the farm and the cow, it just gets to the point and throws the weather stripping in your face, future weather patterns and corn prices in the stock index be damned. It pushes me into predicaments wherein I am neither definitively answering nor necessarily avoiding questions nor their answers, but simply presenting some mystic puzzle whereby the reader needs to go back in and find it, nay, or, as well, the writer, cuz I don’t know what the hell kind of answer, shit, I don’t know the question, to what the hell I was elucidating, and, you see, well, therein may really lie the problem. In any event, enjoy the rest of your (fill in time of day here) and don’t forget the ovaltine, cuz you always need a catch line to sneak out of painted dead end logical hallways of doom, whether by doom you mean the actual literal danger and fear, or something more cheery like boom and shaking the room but with a different letter. Please forget that last sentence. Yes, just focus on the ovaltine. That’s better. Gracias.