Printscreen: Simultaneous Headlines

I don't actually have anything to say at the moment. I just thought the blog needed a little more green.

I saw an advertisement on the bus: "You've found a cure for cancer; now take it to market." I got a better idea: "You've found a cure for cancer; now CURE SOME &%@#ING CANCER PATIENTS!!!!!!

*sigh* Another one for the "Good ol' Fashioned Stupidity" tag

I should get a laptop.

That way, when I'm out at the record stores, I can instantly look at my other blog and make sure I don't already have something before I buy it again.

High definition: Like......maaaan....it's when, like......everything just seems so CLEAR....and REAL, man........you gotta try this!

A lot of people's allergies are acting up this time of year. 'Tis the sneezin'.

Creepy is....

....Thinking, while supposedly asleep, that you hear your father whispering to you about doing stuff before your mother gets home if he were you.



It must have been the rain or something......

I was thinking.....you know how inbreeding produces, um, messed-up offspring? Well, if all the theories about the origin of the universe are true, it would explain a lot........

Suppose a tornado came around here at 10 AM on the first Tuesday of the month. Would anyone realize it?


(If this makes no sense to you, then I explain: 10 AM on the first Tuesday of the month is when they test the sirens.)

I dreamt I was snuggling Lucy, and when I woke up, my head was ridiculously buried in my pillow......

I miss Google-bombs.

I couldn't afford to see Springsteen, 'cos times is rough.

Writing from work....

...Because my home Internet connection is out. Apparently the earliest they can get out to look at it is Thursday (when I'm likely to be in class). So if you miss me, that's why. Cheers.

Headline that I, for one, would have thought twice about

Senator Kennedy, liberal giant, buried

—Reuters

Phrase heard in local car dealer ad

"...brand new used car..."

Latest story idea......

Husband kills wife out of frustration over her failure to pay attention to him because she's wholly engrossed in "Law & Order"-type television shows.

Questions/Answers/Advice about home recording with Audacity?

Feel free to join the technical discussion in the comments of my It's Psych song post. Cheers!

There are few things so annoying as people who ask questions of you and immediately answer them for you.

What the HELL are those new parking machines on the streets of Chicago? Only quarters, dollar coins, and credit cards? What's wrong with dimes and nickels? Or dollar bills, for that matter? Can't these things make change? And what's wrong with individual meters? Was the perk of finding a meter with time on it from the previous car too much of a strain on the economy? (Hey, it's possible...) I suppose I could Google it, but I'm not going to....

True Brilliance is....

...A toaster, the lever of which will not get pushed all the way into toasting position unless the thing is plugged in.

We have one of those at home.

We don't have one of those where I am now.

First Christmas ad of the season! August FIRST this year!

Idea

Vehicles powered by human waste.

Can it be done?

How awesome would that be? We create our own fuel for our vehicles while finding a practical use for our own "waste."

And, for cryin' out loud, don't tell the suits!

Christ, there's that headline again: "World's Oldest Man Dies." STOP IT! The world's oldest people are always dying! It's not news!

The powers that be realized the error of their ways when they heard Jackson Browne's "The Pretender." So they did away with ice cream vendors.

My Wholly Bizarre and Incredible Excuse For Today

Usually, when I'm here, I dream about a variation of my aunt's house, and when I'm at my aunt's, I dream about a variation of here. So when I dreamt of here when I was here and then woke up here, I got confused and went back to sleep, expecting to wake up at my aunt's.

The Mandrake Memorial - s/t (a quick review by ~C.A.~)

A wonderfully odd mixture of pop and baroque sounds with just a slight dash of rock. Many of the songs feature a pseudo-harpsichord sound. Me, well, though my favorite song on here is the well-paced "Dark Lady," I think that, overall, the softer sounds on this album are the ones that work the best. The vocalist's voice seems especially well-suited to soft sounds. Some of the musical themes seem to reappear throughout the album, as though the whole album were a Beethoven-esque symphony. All said and done, though, this is a nice album. Some soft moments, some odd moments, some songs that run right into each other, and a proper psychedelic ending with voices and a sound effect. Good stuff.

What exactly is "passion fruit"? It's all over the friggin' supermarket now.

Dead Celebrity Round-Up

Bad time for celebrities these days. It only seems like my humble duty as a blogger to face it. When three of them depart on the same day that I see the largest real rainbow I've seen in a long, long time, it's rather difficult to ignore. And I know it's probably coincidence, but it still lingers in the mind like the smell of curry. (These are not designed to be jokes in poor taste. I'm just telling it like I perceive it. I turned 23 this past Friday.)

Ed McMahon: My generation might remember him as the Publisher's Clearing House guy. I'm only vaguely aware of who Johnny Carson was.

Sky Saxon: Does the Seeds' founder qualify as a celebrity? Well, although I've not had much success getting into the Seeds' brand of garage/psych, this is probably the one of the recent that affects me the most.

Farrah Fawcett: Never really known much about her. I may recall the occasional headline about her battle with cancer. I caught an episode or two of "Charlie's Angels" a couple nights ago; she does have a nice smile.....

Michael Jackson: All due respect to Michael Jackson (however much that may be), I was never a fan. Don't much care for the music; in my life, he's mainly been a tabloid and media favorite, not unlike Paris Hilton or the "Octomom." And you know how much I care about tabloid and media favorites......

Billy Mays: All I can say about Billy Mays is: Advertisements will seem quiet without him.

A Scene I'd Like to Enact

Two guys, one of which is me, at a bus stop. I'm in yellow; other guy's in cyan (or light blue, if you prefer).

Hey.

How ya doin'.

Eh, not too bad. I'd be a lot better if the coffee machine were fixed, but I should be able to have everything done on time.

Ah, you dig that whole "deadlines" thing, huh?

Hang on a sec....I'm not talking to you; I'm on the phone.

....Ah.

....Yeah, I'll CC the whole HR department. Shouldn't be a problem. .......Talk to you later. Bye. .....Haven't you learned to tell when someone's talking on the phone yet?!

Hang on a sec....I'm not talking to you; I'm talking to the voices in my head. .......Yeah, nevermind that stuff, why don't you just throttle him by the neck? Let him know you're not a &$@# robot! .....Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about! Catch you later. ........Anything else I can do for you?

Anyone else ever feel like they've pulled a muscle yawning? I've done it a few times now. It's really weird and unpleasant.

Honing My Nonexistent Stand-Up Routine

WARNING: This post contains language and imagery that some may find crude and perhaps even offensive. If such material upsets you, you may wish to scroll down to the next post. (Look for a change in color.) It's a lot easier than ignoring this warning, reading this post, getting upset and taking me to court in the hopes that the Patriot Act completely reversed the first amendment of the U.S. Constitution. You've been warned. I am not an ATM.

I heard an ad during the Cubs game for one of those cars that responds to spoken commands, except, for this one, you maintain a normal, casual speech pattern. Wouldn't that make it difficult to have a normal conversation with someone while in the car? Suppose you're on the speakerphone (no hand-held phones, please), and you tell someone at home to "pick up milk on the way home." Will the car think you're talking to it, automatically drive to a place with milk and then make its own way to your house? Or maybe it'll consider the dealership or the factory where it was assembled "home" and go there? If you tell the kids in the back to "be quiet," will the car again assume that you're talking to it, and shut itself down so it doesn't make any noise? How about if you tell someone to "go fuck yourself"? What kind of tricks might the car perform? Suppose you're frustrated about something and utter an exasperated "Fuck me!" Could the car accommodate this request? Suppose it's not willing. Can you be legally charged with attempted rape of an automobile?

I don't need a "Transformers"-type car that's actually a pseudo-living intelligent being. My sense of direction is great. If I wanted live transportation, I'd get a horse.

Keep it simple.

Message to David Letterman (and possibly others)

Please, please, on bended knees, with a cherry on top, or two cherries, or even a whole watermelon if you want, but please — let Sarah Palin fade into obscurity, I am begging you......

We'll be right back to "male enhancement" commercials right after this fraction of a movie on AMC.

What is the purpose of only partially slicing bagels? They do it at Panera, they do it at the grocery. Either slice the bagel or don't! Preferably don't, because once it's sliced, it can't be un-sliced. At least the bagel place on Touhy near Cicero Ave. knows enough to leave the bagels whole. (They got great chive cream cheese, too!)

You never hear about an "ugly cat" contest.

You ever try to randomly refer to "Audi"s, the cars, in casual conversation? It sounds like you're talking about "outies," like belly buttons. It's weird and confusing.

(edit: Recently saw this in an old "Family Guy" episode....)

On the New McDonald's Campaign

Terriblé.

(edit: I think they've realized it. I haven't seen those ads in a while now.)

(edit 2: Oops...maybe not. They've revived it. Damn.)

The "best" of something ain't necessarily good.

Can somebody please explain to me the logic of allowing the broadcast of certain programming on terrestrial radio but not on streaming online radio? First it was the Cubs, now it's Dr. Demento. And I suppose I should have expected MLB to be greedy like that, but the good doctor? Something is not right about this.

Transpormer

"Transformers" and "Transporter" apparently got popular at about the same time, and I'm always getting them mixed up.

Jason Statham getting medieval on some humongous robots? How 'bout it?

Dairy Queen's "lips" advertising icon needs to die.

A Comic Strip Without the Strip

"Hey, man, we heard you next door. You're pretty good at Guitar Hero, dude!"

(guy opens the door, and is revealed to be holding an actual electric guitar with strings, plugged into an amplifier) "'Guitar Hero'? What's that?"

I know....it sounds clichéd.....

There is nothing....no entity, no concept, no dessert, nothing....that can evoke quite the same feelings, the same psychological "high," as being at a Dead concert in person.

Maybe it helps that I was basically raised in such a way that I "frequented" these things at an early age, so I'm more accustomed to the atmosphere of peace, love, smoke and alcohol than other people may be.....but you get used to that, you know most of the songs, you have a
far
out
time. Sometimes they play a song I don't know so well....still sounds cool, though. I still don't know which song it was, but I have my eye on a website that has all the set lists so far on this Spring '09 tour, so I'll find out soon. Whatever it was, it was a great-sounding bit of fun, quick-paced rock and roll.

They picked out, among others, two of my favorite studio songs: "Weather Report Suite" and "Unbroken Chain", the latter of which our previously uninitiated companion agreed was "beautiful." I swear, I was on the verge of crying my eyes out, overcome by the sheer beauty and surreality of the experience, while hearing these songs, as well as the encore, "Brokedown Palace". Again, maybe I'm biased, having been raised on this music, but it truly is a wonderful experience, sharing and soaking up the groovy vibrations with thousands of kindred spirits.

It must be experienced in person. Watching a DVD recording or just listening to a bootleg on a computer or tape deck is NOT the same. Unless you can somehow get thousands to gather around a giant amplifier through which a concert recording is played and behave the same way as they do when the Dead are actually there. I don't think that's happened yet, though, so even that is somewhat doubtful.

A few selections they played that I can remember (neither the complete set list nor in order):

Dancing in the Street
Tennessee Jed
Mister Charlie
They Love Each Other
Truckin
Throwing Stones
Touch of Grey
Drums > Space > Come Together
Hell in a Bucket
I Know You Rider

And I finally figured out what the other song was through a bit of Googling: The Golden Road (to Unlimited Devotion)

(I know.....I'm not the biggest Deadhead ever. Still not totally evil, though.)

Peace and grooviness.

Freezer-burn.

What an odd concept.

Driving through hills is cool. At times, you can see the road on which you're traveling going up while you're going down. Psychedelic.

Suburbia.......

It seems the perfect opportunity to have a nice rest and feel the groovy spring weather..........and the #%♦&£@$ in this neighborhood all have to rev up their lawn mowers. And they're always spread out throughout the morning, too. They can't just all do it at once. I think we should have a special time set aside for everyone who cares how their lawn looks to all come out and use their mowers. Preferably on the other side of noon.


(edit, a short while later) And car alarms. Please put these things in the history books next to powdered wigs, typewriters, and telephone cords. They accomplish nothing. It's noise pollution. Nothing more. Name one person whose car alarm was the main reason for a happy ending. See? I couldn't do it, either. Car alarms are nothing more than an obstacle between reasonable people and blissful slumber.

Peace.

One last entry for tonight.......

Does anyone know who, or what, OnlineGuardian is, and who bestows upon them the power to "ban" websites? There's not much information that Google could find. I have a suspicion that it was created by an independent, severely disturbed individual or three.....I can find no connection to any other entities.

Please clue us blogospherians in.

Anyone else just get into states of mind like this where they have to find a place to just let the waters of catharsis rush out to sea?

Would anyone else dearly like to see the people grab control of the analog television waves that apparently are, or soon will be, vacated?

Why are they called "buildings"? Shouldn't they be called "builts"?

Where's that Phillipe Debarge CD I ordered a'ready?!? Why won't Steve respond to my e-mail? I don't have a photo like that! Honest! Anything you find online was put up by someone else!

Progress! (Part Two)

The old, manually operated paper-towel dispenser at work has been replaced by a sensor-activated paper-towel dispenser.

What has this invention accomplished? If they couldn't install an air drier, couldn't they have just put up one or two of those old-fashioned metal things where the janitor or whoever's around puts the stack of paper towels in and closes it, and then people can just pick the paper towels they desire right through the widened slot at the bottom? You'd probably have to refill those more often, but so what? Makes more sense than replacing a simple push-handle with (what's probably) an expensive thing that's likely to spend more time on the fritz than......well, than me trying to think of something funny to compare that to. To me, anyway.

C'est la Feline

Perhaps it was just some odd psychological fluke; perhaps he had some ancient Egyptian heritage of which he was unaware; all Richard knew was that he loved cats. Their appearances, their textures, their lack of odors, their mostly calm yet skeptical attitudes, and their relative independence — everything about them struck a euphonious chord in his mind. But although he occasionally had the opportunity to visit other people and their cats, he never had a cat that he could call his own...or maybe he could never be called any particular cat’s own. That, after all, is how cats seem to work, as it were.

At least, that’s the impression he had gotten. Of his two parents, one was allergic, and the other was simply stubborn, closed-minded, and not at all fond, or indeed tolerant, of anything feline. They had no problem with certain types of dogs, though. They had two pets of the canine persuasion, but, as amicable as they were, they were clearly not at all the same to Richard. Noisy, stinky creatures that sometimes have to go out in the mud and cold, pouring rain just to relieve themselves. Who needs this? Richard thought. Eventually, though, after spending enough time with the dogs...hey, they may have some cons, but they’re not totally despicable...Richard became mostly numb to his previous desires and carried on with his life as nearly any human would do.

Richard found himself pursuing reading and writing in college. He worked a few ordinary, menial jobs throughout his studies, and he seldom thought of the future. Of course, few could have foreseen the economic depression that lay not far from his graduation.

Despite being armed with a college degree, nobody seemed interested in his potential services. No employers in any fields that held his interest were hiring, and he wasn’t about to pursue a job he knew he wouldn’t enjoy. He held on to his old job at the dry-cleaners on Western for a while, but the income from that would not grant him independence. He was able to stay with an old classmate from one of his earlier poetry classes. Jimmy was a nice guy, but sometimes his wildly eclectic musical tastes would drive even the most radical hippie totally batty. The headphones may have been the one thing that preserved their relative friendliness.

Richard started to approach “totally batty” himself when he was informed that the dry-cleaners would be closing. Where would he go now? No one was hiring, and he clearly could not stay anywhere. Damn this world, he thought. The worlds my head creates in my dreams are so much better. I should just sleep all the time, so I can spend my time there instead of in this hell.

After much pleading and reasoning with his family, his aunt finally agreed to take him in. She was not so keen on the arrangement given the circumstances, but she was essentially kind-hearted, and she decided that a little bit of company would do her good; her husband had been killed in a freak accident on the Kennedy a number of years ago, and her only son had moved to Denver. So, Richard would remain on the dole and with his aunt. He would wander the city on weekday mornings and afternoons in search of work, and he would spend most of the rest of his time either asleep or vacantly nibbling on cheap food. In fact, as the days wore on, he would put less and less effort into his search, and sometimes he would simply stay home and let it all blow away in the wind. He had largely ceased to care about much of anything, even letting his hair and beard grow long and scraggly.

One day, Richard got up at around noon. He headed down to the kitchen and served himself a can of tuna and a glass of cool tap water. He ate quite intently, seldom noticing any of his surroundings. Not that there was much worth paying attention to, of course; the house was otherwise quiet and unoccupied for the time being, and nothing beyond the windows could bring him peace of mind. He ate and drank his fill, then walked back upstairs.

As he passed the mirror, he caught sight of his reflection. Just for a brief moment, an odd thought struck him as he gazed at his hairy body with its long whiskers and fairly simple mind. This quickly subsided, though. He didn’t care. As long as he was fed and could retreat into his own dreamworld, everything was fine.

He hopped onto the bed, curled up, and went back to sleep.

One of the things I miss about childhood: Baby wipes.

Dreams from Chicago

The lecture hall had been terminally conquered by severly disturbed, numerous, and narcissistic vandals. All over every wall, every step, every table side, there were repulsive, creepy photographs of strange people.....alien life forms, as far as I was concerned. How about the floor? Could there be a safe escape route down there somewhere? I was about halfway down when I was suddenly greeted by a bright, black, shiny diamond in a cave of coal. She was beautiful—an adorable little nose and the most perfect pair of eyes, eyes that screamed sanity and reason. We greeted each other with open paws, and she raised a paw and cast aside the scary apparitions.

Crowded tables. What the hell were all those kids doing at a meeting like this? I bid a not unkind farewell to my mother's coworker, hopped in the old red car that died two years ago, and plopped onto my bed, which was resplendent in its big blue blanket and adjacent to the old bookshelf which featured books with curiously colored spines.....books that, oddly enough, I don't remember either buying or inheriting.

Wait a minute.....I thought I was in Chicago. What am I doing back in my bed already? Is Spring Break over? I haven't even seen Lily, gone to Margie's Candies, or gotten the new Pretty Things "Phillipe Debarge" CD. Okay, I know time flies, but not at the speed of Zeppelin. I'm bloody well in Chicago, and I'm going to get that CD.

I could feel myself slipping on something. It felt like my bed.........well, it felt like a bed. Maybe I was slipping through a wormhole back to my hometown. Any moment now, I should see the morning light shining through the little window with the brown curtains around it.

Ah, much better. Morning light......the sound of someone showering.....that's more like it. Come to think of it, it sounds and looks like both of the showers are running. I thought there were only two of us. Is someone downstairs? I hear noises that suggest it. Is something happening here? Am I missing something?

No. Nothing is happening. I know this because the morning light is once again shining through the little window with the brown curtains around it. Only this time, it is real. Or at least as close to real as anything else I could perceive. The sounds of water had subsided, and now the only sound that remained was a faint thing that sounded like a cross between a child learning to speak and......and......someone.......singing. You know who that is......

I guess they're called "soap operas" because they make me want to take a shower.....

Feeling Better When I'm Feeling No Pain

Okay, so there is still some decent ice cream in town. What I think it is is a series of stores masquerading as independent entities but still obviously (by looking at the flavors) one company. Nevertheless, that "Birthday Cake" flavor really hit the spot for me yesterday afternoon. And the chocolate with brownie bits in it, whatever that one was called, was pretty good too. Not exactly my beloved Chocolate Fudge, but I doubt there will ever again be anything quite like that one.........

.......Anyway, I saw Gordon Lightfoot in concert last night. He had four guys accompany him on lead guitar, bass, percussion and keyboard. He seemed to be fairly comfortable, tossing in just a little bit of casual talk with the audience between songs. And, of course, the songs themselves were nice and varied, a mixture of old and new, soft and relatively upbeat, and a couple "back-to-nature" songs. On the whole, a fine show, with some quite beautiful sounds on some of the songs, and a few songs I hadn't heard in a looooooong time.......you know that feeling you get when you hear a song you haven't heard in years? Such a great feeling, isn't it?

Yeah, I gotta listen to those records that are on my shelf........

Progress! (Part One)

(Yeah, I retitled this one.......)

Simple billboards are being replaced by expensive electronic things that change the displayed image every few seconds so that, I'm guessing, the average American doesn't have enough time to process any given image.

Just Some Ordinary Blog Stuff

Some time ago, for about four years, I worked at a stand-alone Baskin & Robbins. They always had the widest variety of distinct, quality flavors, and making an ice cream cake without the cake (called a "fudge nut," even if the nuts were replaced by sprinkles) was NOT a big deal; we had it done the next day, usually without fail. In fact, some of them were ready-made and proudly displayed in the cake freezer.

Of course, that stand-alone Baskin & Robbins is now as ancient history as Caesar or Napoleon. As is the other stand-alone Baskin & Robbins that once graced the east side of town.

The two B&Rs left in this town are both sort of halves of Siamese twins, the other halves of which are Dunkin' Donuts stores. Having worked at a B&R for four years, I know full well how things are supposed to work there.

I went to one of the B&Rs today; it was like entering the Twilight Zone. I asked for a fudge nut cake, and they asked me what it was. I explained, quite clearly, I thought, what it was and how to make it. Just use the cutter, shear off two notches' worth of a Mint Chocolate Chip tub (that's my father's preferred flavor; it's his birthday on Thursday), put it on a round white cardboard thing, remove the bit of tub that surrounds the ice cream, smooth some fudge on top with a thick swirl near the edges, sprinkle some sprinkles (or nuts) on the sides and the thick swirl, write a message on top in your favorite color (red always looks nice) with the proper frosting, and put the whole thing in a 9" box. That's all there is to it.

They refused to make it.

I didn't bother to count the small number of flavors that they had there; it would have hurt too much. It's a lovely day today, and I can really do without such pain. Back at the one where and when I worked, we had a maximum of forty-seven flavors, and, with the possible exception of the occasional "sugar free" flavor (and that "chocolate ribbon" thing, which, thankfully, didn't last), they were real, intense flavors that you could taste and savor. Most of the flavors that remain now are the most boring things imaginable, and I can't help but wonder if any of the seasonal flavors still exist. Love Potion #31, Egg Nog, Pumpkin Pie......those were frickin' awesome flavors. And, of course, my beloved Chocolate Fudge.......rich, dark, gooey.......the way chocolate should be. It's not really any of the "seasons" right now, so I can't tell right away, but my beloved Chocolate Fudge, a year-round flavor where I worked, seems to be totally extinct in my town now. Last time I saw Chocolate Fudge was when I took a drive out to Springfield....was it, two years ago now? I don't remember.......but somewhere on MacArthur Boulevard in Springfield, a little ways north of Penny Lane (the main, and perhaps only, reason anyone would want to go to Springfield*), a stand-alone Baskin & Robbins remains. Hopefully.

I don't know just how interesting this is to anyone, but I could go on and on and on about ice cream........

Anyway, I have a ticket to see Gordon Lightfoot in concert tomorrow.

Peace...........


*The Lincoln Museum is okay, but that and Penny Lane aside, Springfield seems very much a wasteland, with empty parking lots and chain stores, and very few signs of life. And since I just discovered while creating this post that Penny Lane does indeed do business online, you can just take advantage of that and not waste time driving through an endless lack of scenery to a largely empty ghost town.

Poem (not a very imaginative title, I know; I'll come up with something)

Beautiful flower
So smooth and red
It holds my eye hostage
And plays with my head
Yet were I to touch it
I'd probably crush it
Beautiful flower........

I think my anti-virus software uninstalled Word!

Gates bless System Restore......

Me Dealing With People

I was hungry.......

.....Yeah, classic humor right there, right?.......

.....so, for the first time ever, I decided to try ordering delivery over the internet. Luckily, the particular place I was ordering from gave me the option to pay with cash, since I don't have a credit card......but that's beside the point. I was at work, and, apparently, I needed something else to have enough of a charge to have it delivered, so I offered, and one co-worker went ahead and added her order of choice to the bill.

Again, I don't have much experience with this sort of thing.

When the guy arrived, the two of us discussed our respective parts of the payment. She mentioned tip.......an ancient custom about which I had totally forgotten. I said something along the lines of "Oh.....yeah. Sorry.....I'm still getting used to this modern world." The guy's response to this was "What, were you born yesterday?"

"Basically, yes," I instinctively responded. I have my own ideas of spirituality and who-knows-what, into which I won't go here. Anyway, before he left, I told him, "It's all right; you don't know me."

I think, perhaps, it is much to his pleasure that I'm not ordering from them again anytime soon.

IGNORE THIS POST (This isn't the answer either...)

A while ago, I posted this question on here, and, naturally, got no response....well, no matter....I have a theory.....

When I leave the house, I leave the computer logged on under someone else's name. When I get to work, I log on as me and just kick off the other "user". The audio has worked every time so far since I started doing that.

Of course, I usually fail to do consecutive Remote Desktop sessions; I just do one at work and then come back home. But I may try, perhaps the next time I head into the city, to enable a remote connection for another user on this computer and then just keep kicking the other user or myself off as necessary.

Again, this is just a theory. I still fail to understand the logic of audio not always working the way it ought to via Remote Desktop. But I feel it's worth a shot.

Best of luck to anyone who has had this problem and might somehow stumble upon this obscure blog.....

Are there any text books that have original thoughts these days? I see all these footnotes, references, etc.......I get the feeling that, over time, the whole thing becomes like a game of "Telephone," where each person slightly changes the thoughts of their sources, until the most modern sources have totally garbled and unreliable information.

I work as a "text converter" (i.e. converting textbooks to electronic formats that people with certain disabilities can read/listen to), so I see quite a lot of textbooks........and who knows how many footnotes and references........

As Humane as is Deemed Sanitary

One of my mother's friends wanted to go to the "humane society" (an interesting name, I think, for a place that houses forgotten pets) to look at dogs after his own dog suddenly died last week. I tagged along with him and my mother, and, of course, I went to visit the cats while my mother and her friend went in the back to the dog section (which, I discovered later, has its own, um, "scent"; I suppose that would be inevitable....). They have a couple of sections where we can basically go in and freely mingle with the four or five cats that are in each of the two sections. While I was in one of the "cuddle rooms," I just sat for a moment and gazed at one particular cat who was on the window sill, staring out at the dreary, rainy-day plains with bare trees. I couldn't help but wonder what someone in his (I think it was a "he") position might have been thinking, stuck in a room like that, looking out at a grey sky and a sort of brown-and-yellow ground (Cats probably don't know from "brown" and "yellow," do they...?). Is this the best of all possible worlds? Is there something nice and worthwhile beyond these walls? It reminded me so much of me.....

.....But they were all nice cats there, although a few of them slept through my entire time there. I'm not the sort of person to disturb sleeping cats, although some younger people who patronize the Humane Society apparently are..... Anyway, one black cat cuddled up in my lap for a little while, and shortly thereafter, a much younger cat, about seven months old, I think, who sort of resembled Lily (picture link) but with more black, eagerly grabbed my fingers and gently teethed on them. She was quite adorable.

I could go on and on about cats.......

.....I'll just say that Lucy fails to have a problem with me smelling like other cats.

I am not interested in the octuplets or their mother.

A word of advice....

Do not store tea in one of those port-a-cups with lids for longer than, say, three hours. Man, that smell is going to haunt me for days.......

Nothing kills a good mood like my browser refusing to work.

(Thankfully, a reboot fixed it.....)

Pink Floyd - A Momentary Lapse of Reason (a quick review by ~C.A.~)

This seems to me to generally not be all that appreciated. I think perhaps it's another victim of people's tendencies to compare albums to other albums that bear the same artist name. I happen to think this album is a fine piece of spaced-out rock. I suppose the mid-to-late-Eighties production on this thing can be a bit of a turn-off at times; nevertheless, I think this album does carry a certain, spooky, far-out vibe about it that is especially amplified on days when the weather leaves something to be desired. Try it....some dark afternoon....

Oh, Baby!

Okay, NOW I've felt the fresh air of a spring(like) day. Far out.

On the bus today, I saw a baby. Ordinarily, I don't think much of babies...or children of any age, for that matter...but this was the sort of child that inspired high-quality mainstream records (no, that's not an oxymoron). She had wide eyes that contained separate worlds....galaxies all their own. Everything about her struck a euphonious chord. A kindred spirit.....wanting only to be happy and at peace.

Her parents and I didn't say a word to each other. The smiles said it all.

You ever suddenly feel the fresh air of a lovely day in late spring when the flowers have mostly bloomed and love is in the air, even though you're stuck indoors in the middle of winter?

mp3 host?

I realized yesterday, with Alex's help, that the mp3 host I had been using for my songs, boomp3.com, seems to no longer have any audio capabilities.....or uploading capabilities, for that matter.....meaning that the songs I had posted here are no longer available. Anyone know another good mp3 host that would fit this blog nicely? Or should I just create a MySpace page and be done with it?

Defective Show

Latest idea: "Monk" meets "Life on Mars." What could be better than Adrian Monk working with Gene Hunt in New York in 1973? It's a natural!

I'm as #@&%ed up as the day is short.

I think that, depending on one's appetite, one should be able to choose between either a loss of wisdom teeth or a larger mouth that can accommodate the extra teeth.

(Okay, I'll shut up about the teeth now.)

Last night, I dreamt I was eating large quantities of nuts.

......Not such a good dream to have when you've just had your wisdom teeth out......

Wow..............I don't know what's going on, but everything I'm listening to sounds slooooooowed down.......and I'm not listening to tapes or records......What is this????

Zarquon help me.....I'm still recovering from my loss of wisdom teeth, and all my mother can think of is having me "organize" everything.....

("Organize"....that means I know where everything is now, and will have no idea where it is after it's been organized. We have rather differing opinions on where things belong......)

I'm Okay

......just a little sore on the right side of my mouth. Why just the right side, I don't know. Eating might be a bit of an adventure for a little while......

......But I'm fine.

New Presidency, New Semester, New Supermarket, Same Cheshire

Right. Let's see if I can remember everything I wanted to write about yesterday, or I guess it was now the day before yesterday. Zarquon, I went to bed at midnight and, except for a brief bathroom break, didn't get up until ten at night or something like that. This was the day after I saw, among other sights, a sleep psychologist. I would, I think, have gotten up a little earlier, but American Idol was on in the other room, so I had to bury my head particularly deep under the sheets and the other pillow.

Good starting point, I think: Since maybe November, I've been on Prozac, or at least the generic thereof. Before I started that, I had been on (the generic of) Abilify. At that point, I was going nowhere in life and feeling rather depressed. Now I'm still going nowhere in life, but at least I'm content. And making the occasional joke or six. Two out of three ain't bad.....sadly, it's the other one that's causing my folks to be none of those. And that's the basic setup here. How it will relate to anything else in this entry, I don't know; of course, I've yet to write most of it.......

It's a New Semester!

I did it! I don't know how, but I did it! I got up around six thirty in the morning! On the first day of class! I was actually able to get to my nine thirty class! And I'll quite probably be easily able to make it to that class again today, seeing as I only got up a little while ago, and it's about five now. Rejoice!

Anyway, the teacher of this class seems like she'll be much more helpful than the guy who was in charge when I started the class last semester. And it looks like the requirement this time around is merely two short stories and a revision, rather than three short stories and a revision. I'm still not entirely confident, but I feel a little better. I feel a certain instinctive impulse to blur the line between straight fiction and tripped-out sort of post-modern poetry. I wonder if I'll really be able to get away with this kind of artsy inclination.........I suppose I can ask.......Or I suppose I can just be my radical self and recognize my own genius while being horribly misunderstood and generally held in contempt........

(I'm the most humble person in the world! YES!)

(I've posted that joke before, haven't I?)

After class, I went around to a couple of places searching for a PC with internet. Either all of the supposedly trans-platform computers in the English Building lab have been set to the dreaded Macintosh, or I merely dreamt that whole thing, and there is still hope that the whole university isn't just some anti-Cheshire conspiracy. PCs may not be the greatest thing on this planet, but, in my own experience, they're much better than Macs. I've never really gotten along well with Macs for some reason. Maybe if I can use Remote Desktop on a Mac to access this PC on which I am now, I might get into them more. I highly question whether or not this will be possible. Ever.

It's a New Presidency!

Anyway, I went to the Union to watch the Inauguration. Nice, crowded Courtyard Café, full of people applauding when the time is right, and occasionally giggling for reasons which aren't likely to become apparent anytime soon. The broadcast was shown on some kind of projector, projecting onto the screen at the "front" of the café. It was also shown on the usual televisions that hang from the ceiling in various places around the café. It was one of these that I saw. I heard the audio from the big projection, and I saw the video on the television. They were horribly out of sync; the video must have been a full fifteen seconds ahead of the audio. What were they, on different channels or something?

Nevertheless, I got there I think more or less in time to catch the swearing in of Joe Biden. I think it was after that that Aretha did a bit of singing. (Her glory days are behind her.....) It was then beyond noon, Eastern time, and, according to the voice-over, Biden was president for a few minutes, seeing as he had been sworn in before noon, and then Dubya's term expired. Of course, I heard or read later, I forget which, that the elected Obama should have become president at noon, so I don't know.......anyway, the crowd I was with burst into applause when they heard about Biden being the president. They then did a bit of chuckling during Obama's swearing-in, which was notoriously bungled by both Obama and Chief Justice Roberts (mainly Roberts, I understand). (From what I've read, Obama took the oath again today, just to be sure. I assume they got it right this time.) Obama's inauguration speech, which followed, didn't really feature anything particularly special, but it did draw applause at a few junctures. And that's about all I stuck around for; all in all, I don't feel the inauguration itself was anything special, but everyone seems to insist that it's historic. It is, I feel, still too soon to judge the man; coming into the presidency, my reasoning was that all we knew is that he's a good talker. I think he made a good impression on his first full day, though......I think........

I did vote for him......if only because he knows how to talk.......

.....And possibly because he's simply more, I don't know, likable than McCain.

Anyway, all my best to the man. And good luck...........

It's (Going to Be) a New Cheshire!

At my one o'clock (Central time) appointment, we determined that, this Friday, I'm going to have my "wisdom" teeth out.

(I'm sorry......I couldn't find the right emoticon for this.)

It's a New World Order!

(I do have an emoticon for this one, though: )

I don't go shopping very often these days......I mostly leave the shopping to my mother. This time, though, I accompanied her; there wasn't much point going home between two appointments at the clinic on the other side of town. I had seen this "self checkout" thing before at that store, but the last time I was there, there were only two or three of them. This time there were.....well, I didn't count them exactly, but I'm tempted to say seven or eight of them. And only two or three regular checkout counters with actual employees were open.

Does anyone else see what's happening here? Someone, somewhere, is trying to abolish all kinds of human contact in favor of aggravation-inducing machines that are less likely to accept your wrinkled cash and are probably buggy. It's a way to rob people of job opportunities, and it's a blatant attempt to promote a robotic, characterless society where people are nothing but numbers on credit cards. I, for one, will sooner starve than live in a world where the only way to get processed food is to be processed yourself.

Or I can go in late at night, eat some food right there in the store, and walk right out.

(As you may have guessed, I do not have a credit card. Nor do I have plans to get one.)

Some day.......I picture a small group of real people leading a long, dark revolution against the plastic people. Phone companies......credit card companies......you name it, they're goin' DOWN. These are our own creations. We created them. If they make us unhappy, we can just as well destroy them. I saw in a comic strip once, there is a distinction between the pursuit of happiness and the actual attainment of happiness. I would be delighted to see that officially changed.....nevermind the pursuit.....simply "happiness" will suffice, thank you very much.

****

It looks like I'm starting to meander a bit; I take that as a sure sign that I've done enough writing for now.

See ya later

ungh

I had all kinds of stuff I wanted to write and post here today, and, wouldn't you know it, I'm too tired now. But I'll see if I can remember most of it tomorrow when I have a moment or seven.

Just know that I'm listening to Obama's inauguration speech right now.

Why are those candy-on-a-stick things called "suckers"? Shouldn't they be called "suckees"? The person is the sucker; the candy is the thing being sucked. Who names candy, anyway?

Bruce Springsteen - Born in the U.S.A. (A quick sort of personal account by ~C.A.~)

I guess I was in high school when I first heard this album in its entirety. Man, I was ravaged by hormones then; I was on some kind of bizarre high all the time.......and, wow, did "Born in the U.S.A." intensify that high. I have no idea how to explain it.......most of the lyrics on the album are actually rather a downer......but there was just something about the music that gripped me.....made me feel like some kind of stud or something. All I knew was: Springsteen rules.

These days, I've kind of drifted away from that album; I look more to "Born to Run" to get my Springsteen fix now. But every once in a while, I might feel a strange pulse in me.....and reach for the Bs on my CD shelf (Yes, I organize my CDs by first name; I prefer it that way)......and turn it up.........


I played it this morning.

AAAARGH! I thought I'd have gotten the tickets by now. Trying to get Dead tickets has turned into an eye-clawing nightmare. I'm supposed to be at work by now..........

Eighth Grade Career Day

I just heard something on the television about someone holding an "eighth grade career day." What the hell kind of eighth grader knows what they want to do every single day for the rest of their life? Am I missing something here? I'm twenty-two, some nine years after eighth grade, and I still haven't the faintest idea of what I want to do. Let these kids breathe!


(Can I use the word "hell" without offending someone who reads this?)

xkcd

Every once in a blue moon, I somehow find my way to this site. I don't know how I get there....I just do.

Anyone else find themselves inexplicably sucked in to this site every now and then?

Classy

Right. This semester I'm fully intent on my second attempt at the "Intro to Narrative Writing" class that seems to be the prerequisite for my relatively new major, which is Rhetoric. Apparently, I have no trouble at all being in charge of a blog with nice little short-and-to-the-point messages that are easy to digest. Coming up with ideas for a full-blown "short story," on the other hand, is rather more of a challenge for me. Last semester, I was in the class for maybe three or four weeks before declining mental health at the time dictated that I drop down to one class. Had I stayed with that class, three short stories plus a revision would have been required from me in the space of some fifteen weeks. With the trouble I have coming up with one idea, coming up with three ideas would take me.....geez....a LOT more than a semester, that much I can tell you. Now, I certainly don't expect the structure of the class to change very much, so.....(deep breath).....I'm going to try. I'm going to bloody well try.

But I think I have my first idea now: a young blogger tries to persuade "the establishment" that old-style literature has had its day, and that The Blog is the new form of popular literature—simple blocks of ideas in simple language for a simple-minded public. (No offense.....) Unsuccessful with the mainstream, our hero(ine) goes underground and stirs the boiling cauldron of revolution, or some such metaphor, and sees just a small bit of progress right before his/her untimely demise........

How 'bout it? Worthy of anything?


(Forgive me if this post seems unfocused; listening to Zappa and writing at the same time is a bit of a trick.......)

Is it just me, or has macaroni & cheese gotten more foul-smelling in recent times?

(Gosh, this blogging thing's a gas, ain't it?)

My circadian rhythms were written by Neil Peart.

Someday........I shall clean up my hard drive........

I wonder if Lucy fantasizes about her combing hideous mats out of my hair.......

WARNING!

Chocolate-covered raisins are highly addictive!

Cheshire Adams - Frequent Flyer

I prefer to spell it that way. So there.

Primitively recorded acoustic psych, with a bit of something that sort of resembles reverb added in Audacity. Vocals recorded separately, so that they may be audible. I wrote this just before the fall '08 semester began.

Your comments are welcome.





My blood is flowing
Rushing down
Above my head
Hovers the ground
Just floating
Hanging around

Then suddenly
It revolves
All reasoning
It dissolves
It's a mystery
I cannot solve

Don't know how I got here
Don't know how I'll return
Don't know a goddamned thing
My brain has burned

I feel I've been
Here before
But I just cannot
Place it for sure
Can't help but wonder
What it's all for

Instinct tells me
I must alight
But I'm so distant
And filled with fright
Suspended
In this bright night

Don't want to stay up here
Don't want to go down
I sense it far off looming:
The stone-cold ground...........

Cheshire Adams - It's Psych

One of my first songs here. It's a somewhat outdated ode to one of my favorite hang-out spots in cyberspace:

It's PSYCH



Download

If you feel you're in a wasteland of trash and ennui,
Let me open your eyes to the fact that this need not be...
Just shed all your thoughts.....hop on your White Bike,
And fly into the ports of It's PSYCH!

The spectral spade digs deep through the annals of time....
Each artifact conquers your senses and channels your mind....
Then sets it aflame.....like a match that you strike,
Sending colors.....through the animate skies of It's PSYCH!

Every tiny aspect of life reverberates so loud....
A tangerine sun shines down through babelfish clouds....
A scenic and breathtaking view....we see on this hike
Look! In the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!

It's PSYCH!