New Orleans & the News

I have no photos from my 2.5 hours in the French Quarter, 3.5 years ago. I stood on Canal Street and watched a patchwork group of what seemed like homeless guys play something that sounded right out of the 1910's, and it had banjo and trumpet and trombone and tambourine and a few other things. I want to say they were playing "When the Saints Go Marching In", but that doesn't seem right because it seems way too cliché. I can't remember.

I ate crawfish etouffee and I walked by the Royal Orleans and I stopped in a bar and had a drink and thought about how everyone seemed poor and happy at the same time.


New Orleans is gone. And I don't think I'm being melodramatic when I say that it's not coming back.

A town will be built there, and it will be called New Orleans. But it will not be New Orleans.

It is pretty surreal to see the complete subtraction of a major U.S. city, when I am somewhere far away in my electric lights and air conditioning, watching a television screen. Have you ever witnessed the complete subtraction of a major city, ever?

The television screen makes me want to vomit, though. And not just from the catastrophe, but from these two-bit hacks who claim to be newspeople. I had always heard how terrible cable news has become, but I guess it never struck a chord until now. Who the fuck are these manipulative, pompous pieces of shit with microphones in their hands?

When was it decided that Anderson Cooper and Bill O'Reilly make competent newsmen? My God, I want to pistol-whip them both. Anderson Cooper is such a fucking phony I can hardly stand it. And O'Reilly just interrupts people until he can get at the real issues: people who deserve to be punished and the price of oil. What sells? Sensationalism does!

What ever happened to Walter-Cronkite objectivity and professionalism? I miss Tom and Dan and Pete. Jesus Christ, why Pete?

smash mouth / being wrong

dear lisa & matt,

just to prove that i can be wrong, that it is possible, and that i can admit when it does happen, i found out last night that i was wrong about that discussion a few months ago, where i was arguing fervently that the band that does "hey you're an allstar get your game on go play" (which is a ridiculous title for a pop song) was semisonic.

in reality, the band is called smash mouth. semisonic performs the not-quite-as-annoying song which is called "closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end" (also a ridiculous title).

i was wrong.

i was wrong !

seppuku was one of my immediate thoughts for possible repercussions, but alas, no katana!

oops! shit!

what i meant to say was: "seppuku was one of my immediate thoughts for possible repercussions, but alas, no wakizashi!"

(see, i was wrong again!)

goddamn!

melted/icecubes,insomnia

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lougher cays

this week i went to texas and there is actually a nice part of texas called the woodlands, and it is actually nice enough, because there were trees, and i was surprised.

i made a presentation about new systems that field engineers should use, and afterwards they called me the ice man, because they were insinuating that i did not seem nervous, even though i think i was nervous, except that i have found that i can be nervous and punkrock simultaneously.

erica is 35 and she is married but she still went out with me and dave and dave on monday, and after we were drunk she decided to call her husband on speakerphone and pick a fight and asked us to say hi and i thought it was dumb so i stopped talking to her even though she is attractive and dave stopped talking to her too but the other dave made touches to the leg and arm while talking. i was drinking gins and tonics and i was asked what sort of girl i go for, and i said "girl-next-door", because that is what people like me say, and i said "oh and it helps if she likes me back" because that is what people like me say, too, but for the third year in a row i kept looking out for rachel, who is pale and scrawny with good manners and a good sense of humor, and i guess that is girl-next-door to me, even though rachel is married now with a 2-year-old and likes cowboys.

at a reception i sat with the troublemakers and we made jokes and in my opinion i made some of the better ones and none of us one any awards because every year it is the same and that is: horse shit.

i think it is fucking hilarious that i just used 'one' where i needed to use 'won'. this proves that we grow more stupid and less sophisticated as we age, such is my recent waving flag.

before we went to texas, peter took me to a party where i didn't know anyone but i still seemed to have fun, and now all at once i seem almost annoyingly popular to myself, examining photos of me with a beer in one hand and my other arm around a girl, who knows, and it is enough to make me envious, almost, except that this is quenched because i know that i am taking the stoic's high road, and yes i am talking as if i am two seperate people, and yes if you saw me then, as compared to any other time in history, you would agree.

i think it all happens because i have been running every day, eating much less, i have lost weight and gained muscle, i have cut my hair short, and now i am prettier, and that is all anyone cares about, and that is sickening and cruel.

i miss new zealand. i have a spiral-shaped jade pendant around my neck, and the maori know that it means harmony and new beginnings. it feels like there is something to all of the mysticism, sometimes. i have never worn anything close to jewelry, before.

..

I don't know anything about my Uncle Bob. I think I heard that in the 60's he was the one that had to dress neatly in his uniform and knock on doors and tell the mothers that their sons were dead, but I'm not sure.

Nine times out of ten, when me and my Dad went to breakfast, he was there at the same time, so we would sit together.

That's all I really know. I have to write something into a card.

I had a Jim Beam on the rocks last weekend and made a toast. It was the least or the most I could do, I don't know.

It is stupid to say anything about it just like it is stupid to say nothing about it.

METALLICA (with pointy, pitchfork letters at each end!)

in light of the watching of "some kind of monster", i am reminded of my position as ultimate critic of all things heavy metal, a chair which i had honed and sculpted in my earlier years, and which, i, only, have the right to claim. much like how there is only one guy who could pull excalibur from the rock. or stone. thing.

!

if i were all powerful in my logics, the following shalt have been commanded:

- lars ulrich would be banished to languish among those who suffer.
- bob rock would own a much worse fate.
- cliff burton would be cloned. there is no other way. despite the grimaces, this will require flesh samples to be taken from bus wreckage in a swedish junkyard. for logistics purposes, this was done ahead of time, in the month of december 1986. our subject is not quite nineteen, but has been playing bass since the age of three months. he is ready.
- dave mustaine would be brought back into the fold. he and kirk hammett would proceed to supply a heavy metal harmony of lead guitarists that the world will never again see. a onesheet would be sent to the citizens of the world, reminding them that there is no heavy metal without a proper amount of drug and alcohol abuse. welcome back, dave!
- as mentioned, lars has been banished. anyone could be drumming. for this example, we will take kirk arrington from the label mate and now defunct band metal church (yes, there really was a band called 'metal church', and yes, in 1990 we did enjoy them, but on cassette only). this will be the first time that two dudes named kirk play in a band together.
- bob rock would be burnt on a cross on-stage during a performance of "eye of the beholder"
- kirk hammett would come out of the closet. it would be considered "fucking hardcore".
- "...and justice for all" would be awarded the prize for 'last existing progressive rock masterpiece', per tim m. instructions.
- detectives would be sent out to investigate the fate and whereabouts of fleming rasmussen.
- metallica would release a statement, rescinding the years 1992 through 2004. there is no other way.

- oh, vodka. vodka, which i pronounce with a 'w' and a ridiculous russian accent.

Hemispheres, part II

The only bad part about enjoying the best nine-day string of yr life is the inevitability of what comes afterwards, and that's the dread and pestilences of returning home and living your life of responsibilities. Fucking normality.

My time in New Zealand was incredibly amazing. Adjectives are not enough.

I would like to re-think everything.

Here are some phrases:

• nine days, new zealand south island
• forty-five companions
• backpacks
• new acquaintances & friends
• crushes, fading in & out
• speight's gold medal ale (http://www.speights.co.nz)
• bungy jumps / freewill to jump off of a ledge
• skiing for the first time
• the will to dance, even when sober
• scenery: mountains, rivers, fjords, trees, etc.
• staring out coach windows
• white water rafting, falling into the water, being pulled back in
• walking to queenstown, looking ragged
• recognizing the misty mountains, the river anduin, the pillars of the kings
• lake ohau, tea by the fire
• kayaking at milford
• becoming jenga professionals
• temporary waterfalls
• gins & tonics, gins & tonics, gins & tonics
• hiking upon a glacier in the pouring rain
• dressing up as a "whiter, lamer" p. diddy / duct tape bling-bling
• king of karaoke
• feeling Alive. woah!

You know that feeling you get when you are on vacation and you are yearning to get back home, and get back to normal? Yeah, I never got that.

This summer has been fantastic. At least all of the parts of the summer that I haven't been in Orlando, which, thankfully, has been a lot of it. Before New Zealand, there was Chicago, Kevin, Intonation Festival, Millenium Park, there was New England, Lisa & Matt, camping, Kris & Rebecca, Adam & Manda & Maddie, Mike & Missy, all of these peoples' associated dogs, Maine scenery, a Billy Corgan show, driving to WNY, going on a maybe-date and actually liking the girl, Chad & Erin and associated dog, Jeff & Marcy and associated dog, Linus, family and associated friends, etc. etc.

I should go into details about all of it, but I don't think that I will.

I will be too busy looking into NZ immigration requirements.