Now Its Halloween

Hello,

I wanted to share some pictures. Happy Halloween. Here are the pictures. I've been pretty busy lately. I traveled to Maine with my girlfriend Natalya. I was in Baltimore back in the start of September when it was still just two weeks old for Tarek.

The Greatest Halloween Present

Okay, so I haven't listened to it yet, but come on! It's Boris and Sunn O))) together! Look at them, they're terrifying! They totally took my idea of promo shots in a corn field, though. Fields of Industry will have to do something else, like sunflowers, maybe.

The packaging art is really cool on this one. Graham: you should check it out. It's like a miniaturized LP sleeve with gatefold. There are pictures of Sunn O))) and Boris looking like corn ghosts, monolithic, glacial epitomes of fear, and of course bat-infested caves (though I don't see any bats, but that's the scary thing, they're probably right behind me!).

Happy Halloween everyone!

My zombie plan

I'm listening to "Dig a Hole" at work. It makes me very happy.

"Blasting our way through the boundaries of hell, no one can stop us now."

"Our axes are growing with power and fury, soon there'll be nothing else left."


I've decided that grad school by itself isn't that difficult.

Bear Mountain Picnic has some new songs we recorded in Lucas's basement. If you want to hear them go here.

There are also a bunch of songs from the "bipolar bears," another bear band that I'm aquainted with.


My zombie plan is to own a house with one of those attics where you have to pull the stairs down from the ceiling. That way you could hide out in there and the zombies would have not access. What are your zombie plans?

A capella

Hi all, a few things:

I've been trying to do more New Yorky stuff in the past few weeks. Last weekend I went to see an exibit of chairs designed by David Byrne. It was no "Naive Melody" but pretty cool nevertheless.

On Friday Nicole, Tristan and I went to see the singer Petra Haden. Joshua B. clued me into Haden on a mix he gave me right before we moved. Haden does a capella recordings, and to recreate her music she sang with a choir of eight women. Half of the concert was a capella arrangements of The Who's "The Who Sell Out" the other was mostly her original compositions. It was great, I hadn't seen live music since I got out here. I miss being in a band.

Speaking of music, my uncle Matt digitized a recording of the late Pa Willey singing a bunch of old timey songs, including my favorite Irish chanty, "Carrickfergus." My grandpa played Irish drum in a few bands, but I'd never heard him sing before. It's really haunting to listen to them. He does "Amazing Grace," it makes me sad as hell.

My dad bought a used Subaru Outback. He has often described the Outback as his "dream car."

I won't be coming home for Thanksgiving, we're going to do it in Delaware. I will be around for Xmas break. There's talk of a Field of Industry show, which I think is a great idea. Maybe we can have a New Years Fields of Industry Dance Party? Nic and I have talked about it, and it seems like Ann Arbor is a good location for New Years - maybe at Adam and Stefan's place? Let's start talking about this.

I saw "Mr. Big" from Sex and the City.

There was more but that's enough for now. Miss you guys. I will try to post my directing projects for school via youtube soon.

-Graham

Vincent

What with Halloween coming up and all, I thought people might like to see this short by Tim Burton:



Taquito had this to offer: "i hate how his stuff has became so trendy for all of those 16 year old fucks that think theyre dark or interesting"

Is "whiskey sauce" really optional?

Auntie Tricia's Bread Pudding:

2 tbsp butter, + some for greasing pan
3 c. loosely packed, bite-size bread cubes
1 c. heavy or whipping cream
1/2 c. milk (not skim)
3 large egg yolks
1/3 c. sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract

Lightly grease an 8x8 baking dish and place the bread cubes in it. Melt 4 tbsp butter & drizzle over cubes, tossing them to distribute butter evenly. Set aside.

Combine cream and milk in a small saucepan and bring just to a boil over medium heat. While this mixture is heating, place egg yolks in a small bowl and beat them lightly, as you would an adolescent who stole the last seat on the bus when you were clearly headed directly for it.

When cream mixture comes to a boil, remove from heat. Whisk in sugar and vanilla, then whisk in egg yolks. Pour over bread cubes, covering all of them. Use the back of a spoon to even things out, if necessary.

Cover with foil and refrigerate for at least an hour and up to four hours.

Preheat oven to 325*F. Remove dish from fridge and cut six small vent holes in the foil. Bake, covered with foil, until the pudding is just set: 45 minutes to an hour. When done, remove from oven, uncover, and cool for 10 minutes. Spoon into dessert bowls and top with sauce or whip cream (I used apple butter, which was delicious. Here's a recipe for whiskey sauce).

in Igor's words...

"In these days of malicious anti-Russian propaganda by the Western media, Russians can draw strength from the fact that they are still the greatest people in the world, having invented this, the AK-47-shaped giant bottle of vodka."



http://beigor.blogspot.com

Videos

Clip from "El Santo vs. Blue Demon in Atlantis:"


Villainous man with office debunks Uri Geller:


This is both terrible and occasionally really good. Thought some of you might dig it (Tricia?).


PS. The kiss-both-cheeks thing has hit grad school like a swarm of bats. Also saw a guy kissing a girl's hand to say goodbye. I have taken up eating lox on everything.

Dilettantish poverty

I am sitting at the coffee-house without coffee. I've read a great essay by Nabokov on his translation of Onegin, with occasional jewles such as the following:
"A schoolboy's boner is less of a mockery in regard to the ancient masterpiece than its commercial interpretation and poetization. 'Rhyme' rhymes with 'crime,' when Homer or Hamlet are rhymed. The term free translation smacks of kanvery and tyranny."
Of course, refering to those translators who sacrafice the textual integrity of a work on the altar of doggerel verse and rhyme. But instead of subtleties of translation, I am dogged by another problem--cash. Hence the lack of caffeene in my bloodstream.
I have scrounged the ninety-five cents in my room, but the sixty-four cents in my bank account are beyond my reach. This is because the ATM machine will only let me take out ten dollars at a time, which I am obvioulsy lacking. And the bank, which is open and around the corner, can do this only with a check--which costs a dollar. Another option is to beg, but this is problematic for me, since I have an appearence of a dilettante and a faux aristocratic demeanor, which I intend to maintian at all cost.
The point of all this, if there indeed is one, is that those 32 cents (the coffee costs $1.22) will never be acquired, speaking abastractly and dilettantishly. It is that lack which makes happiness an impossible and thus a futile pursuit. However, this does not stop me from looking at my balance every half hour in order to see if some money from somewhere will magically appear. Plus, I had to take out extra loan, but the bastards at the Financial aid office are slow as hell and don't really understand my present need for caffeene.

Thugs and the Women Who Love Them

Kyra was getting ready to come again. Damn, I should have put on a rubber, he thought. This is definitely jail bait. As much as he wanted to let loose inside her, he knew he couldn't get her pregnant. As she screamed in ecstasy, Marvin had to be still and bite his lip to keep from coming with her. When her young body stopped jerking, he quickly pulled out. Kyra was knocked out again.

Hey Guys,
I got a new truck. Here is a picture of it from a recent trip Adam, Chris, Stefan and I took to Linens-N-Things. We needed to haul a lot of drapes.

A recent thought on the irrelevance of some academic philosophy.

Regarding prescriptive philosophy (that is, those systems that tell us what we ought to do) versus descriptive philosophy (that tell us what we do, and are probably enveloped and commonly referred to as sociology and psychology). The former, I think, are irrelevant and serve no social function except for the positive feelings enjoyed by those practitioners who find themselves regularly cited as correct in their analytical dealings. These are the well-respected ethicists (that are probably not worthy of respect as their profession is basically mental masturbation). The latter of the two systems, though invasive, I think serve a better purpose and are worthy of study insofar as their output is directed toward the betterment of applied purposes, e.g. facilitating expertise in social services, as well as support for social services.

Quoting Bowker and Star from their book Sorting Things Out, "abstract schema that do not take use into account--say, maps that leave out landmarks or altitude or how readers use maps--will simply fail. (That is, common sense will be seen as the precious resource that it is.)"

Software programmers that do not take users or users' behavior into account will create products that only appear useful to themselves. Human resource managers that create overspecified manuals regarding work procedure will eliminate the discretion of employees and the ability of an organization to deal with issues on a case-by-case basis.

Let lives operate as they exist, free from the torture of being forced to conform to the beautiful system constructed by the isolated mind that is likely driven by the compulsion to be correct in argument moreso than any ideal of welfare, individual or social.

Why the hell don't my students turn in their goddamn assignments on time?

CBGBs

For you New Yorkers...

The one time I was in there, my feet were frozen because I was trudging through snow in NYC with jungle boots on. I drank a beer and rubbed my feet.

CBGBs closed down. There's a lot of photos and videos in the New York Times. It's pretty sad, but no one's that surprised. Still, though, over 20 years that bitch was kicking...

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/17/arts/music/17cbgb.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/17/opinion/l17cbgb.html

Mayor Bids Goodbye to CBGB

Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg expressed some wistful sadness yesterday about CBGB, the legendary punk-rock nightclub on the Bowery that closed early Monday morning after nearly 33 years in existence. “We did everything we could to keep CBGB here,” the mayor said yesterday at a news conference with Adrian M. Fenty, a city councilman from Washington who is the Democratic nominee for mayor there. (Mr. Bloomberg, 64, turned to Mr. Fenty, 35, and said, “I’ll explain CBGB afterwards.”) Mr. Bloomberg reiterated that his administration had identified an alternative location for the club, on Essex Street. But the club’s owner and founder, Hilly Kristal, has said that the cost of preparing that space for use by CBGB would have been prohibitive, and that Mr. Bloomberg would not meet with him. Mr. Kristal has been looking at relocating the club to Las Vegas. “I’m disappointed that they’re going,” Mr. Bloomberg said. “It was one of these institutions that had been in this city, I think, for a long time in the grand scheme of things — for some of us who are a little bit older, a shorter period of time.” Mr. Bloomberg added: “We’ll be sad to see CBGB to go. It will be one less thing I could do on a Friday night.” SEWELL CHAN

Diamonds are for never

I was reading an blog post on some website I linked to through another website...you know how it is. Anyway the article is about how DeBeers (the diamond company/cartel) has convinced people that "A Diamond is Forever." He remarks on their current ad campaign:

"Any one of these ads might be amusing, even charming, on its own. But there are dozens of them, all based on these same idiotic, dysfunctional archtypes. 'Carve the turkey any way you damn well please.' Think about the number of assumptions there. A shrill harpie of a wife, so overbearing that she's prone to criticizing her husband's turkey carving, yet so inept that she can't carve the turkey herself because it's a man's job. A henpecked, spineless cad of a husband, so hapless that he accepts her orders to portion the poultry but then holds onto the resentment of her criticisms of his effort. A relationship so broken and twisted that his purchase of a blood-tainted rock from a monopolist cartel would appease her superficiality enough to get her to relent from her sniping at his performance of a trivial act. And this seems like a bargain because this man is so emotionally worthless that he couldn't just say, "Hey, if you want me to carve the turkey, you should probably be less critical of how I do it."

http://www.dashes.com/anil/2003/01/20/diamonds_are_fo

Zeno; Goethe; Leibniz; Pessoa; Leibniz

If there are many things, the things that are, are unlimited; for there are always others [i.e., other things] between things that are, and again others between those. And thus the things that are, are unlimited.

Don't do it! responded the captain, who unhappily crossed-out the convictions of others with his own while he from experience had learned that the views of men are much too multiple for them to be able to be gathered, even through the most rational representations, to one point.

There are no two indiscernable individuals. A nobleman with the spirit of my friends, in speaking with me in the presence of Madame l'Electrice in the garden of Herrenhausen, believed that he could well find two leaves entirely alike. Madame l'Electrice challenged him, and he ran around for a long time searching in vain for them. Two tastes of water, or of milk, seen under the microscope will be found to be discernable. It is an argument against the atoms, which are not less opposed than the void, according to the principles of true Metaphysics.

A row of trees in the distance, toward the slope...
But what is a row of trees? There are just trees.
"Row" and the plural "trees" are names, not things.

Unhappy human beings, who put everything in order,
Draw lines from thing to thing,
Place labels with names on absolutely real trees,
And plot parallels of latitude and longitude
On the innocent earth itself, which is so much greener and full
of flowers!
(7 May, 1914).

INDIVIDUATION, PRINCIPLE OF. "...his doctrine of a complete concept and of the identity of indiscernables. Given that no two individuals are identical, every individual substance has a unique complete concept in which is contained all the predicates that are true of it and which underwrites its identity a priori."

What swagger!

I hope some of you watched the Tigers game last night. Detroit earned their way to the World Series in dramatic fashion. Score tied, bottom of the ninth, two out, and Magglio Ordonez hits a massive home run to win the game. It was simply awesome, and became even more so once I read this in the Free Press:

With Detroit waiting for a hero, Magglio Ordonez turned to Tigers clubhouse assistant Tyson Steele in the dugout.
"You got the champagne on ice?" he asked Steele, before stepping onto the field in the bottom of the ninth inning. "It's over."

I think Magglio's approach is representative of the Jarosonian method. If you live a truly militant life, you will become so focused on your goals and so totally prepared for any possible situation that a positive outcome will be virtually assured. It's this kind of swagger and confidence that we tried to teach to you guys. Many of you, unfortunately, couldn't even summon up the resolve to finish a skinny paperback sci-fi book. Think of Magglio, and reconsider your relationship with the Jarosonian Institute of Knowledge. It's not too late to learn how to hit your own "home runs."

Queen + 50Cent = Q-Unit

Interesting remix, similar to the grey album. It's about a year old so maybe I'm late on this.




http://www.q-unit.net/

Watch out, trolls!

I was amazed to stumble across a blog devoted to one of my primary political concerns - securing the way for the eventual secession of the UP from the State of Michigan. It hasn't been updated since January, but I hope to learn who this enlightened citizen is. Have you seen this, Paul?
http://superiorland.blogspot.com/

Why Bollywood is pretty alright.

Friends,

Months ago my dear housemate Diana sent Claire, Marlowe, and I some Bollywood music videos that she had procured in Indonesia. This event opened my eyes to a whole new world, where 80's dance moves live in perfect harmony with electro-indian music and long-haired boys in spandex. Having just found the soundtrack to the movie Dil to Pagal Hai at an Indian import store (oh the benefits of city living...), I was inspired to look for the music video online so I could share it with you. As far as I can tell from the excerpts on the DVD from Indonesia, the plot has to do with two rock-star dancing babes who are both after the one male rock star singing/dancing babe, who is the actor appearing in almost every single Bollywood blockbuster from the last few years. I also highly recommend "Are Re Are" and the "Medley." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86p8wwltniA

Michigan Walk of Fame

Something wonderful has happened! Just this month the first inductees to the Michigan Walk of Fame were honored with bronze plaques in downtown Lansing! And they are accepting nominations for the next wave until November 1st! Go here to make a nomination:

http://www.michiganwalkoffame.com

There are so many C-list celebrities who deserve the honor, and now the whole world will know they are from Michigan! Pick your favorite: Bruce Campbell, David Alan Grier, Timothy Busfield, Art Clokey, Roger Corman... The list goes on and on! Now the great state of Michigan can properly honor her offspring...

I went with the obvious choice for my nomination:

"Iggy Pop has given an untold number of teenagers around the world a voice through his work in the late-60s proto-punk band The Stooges. A charismatic frontman, his primal energy inspired a whole generation to express themselves through music, and is known globally as a musical icon."

And why would 4th graders be interested in learning about Iggy Pop?

"Because he showed the world that the most important thing is to express yourself, no matter how unpopular your style may be. If you are true to yourself, you will one day be recognized as a unique individual and a visionary."

Radio Show

For those that don't yet know, there is a small piece of the Swim Club/Vailian diaspora on the airwaves and streaming online in the form of my freeform show Monday afternoons from Noon - 2:30 on WCBN. That's 88.3 FM in Ann Arbor and www.wcbn.org online. Call me and tell me to play songs.

Joshua

My weekend update

Lots of good stories popping up on here lately. I don't have as good of one, but here's what I did this weekend:

Fields of Industry played at the DAAC in Grand Rapids on Friday. Our friend Sarah Schaefer played casio and drum, and I accomodated for Joel's absence on bass by running my guitar through an octave pedal and into a bass amp in addition to my own usual setup. Caught up in the moment, I decided to open with "I've Never Been to Spain" (I think that's what it's called) by Three Dog Night--previously covered by the Suppertime Boys.

Saturday night, Eric and I played at the DAAC again, but this time we performed as Krasnoff, the sludge metal band we've been talking about doing for two years, but never actually doing. Krasnoff is a character based on a man of the same name that used to visit the public library branch I worked at. He used the library computers to write outraged letters to public officials on a daily basis and was prone to empassioned and violent outbursts as he chicken-pecked on the keyboard, some of them antagonized by computer illiteracy, but most of them brought on by the angst built up in his soul. The songs we performed are called "Will to Power", "Krasnoff's Rise" and "Betrayal", coinciding with Krasnoff's ambitions, his ascent toward the achievement of his ambitions, and the betrayal he suffers at the hands of his enemies. Upcoming chapters include "Krasnoff's Revenge", and "Take Back the Glory".

Long weekend in Roma.

I found this movie at a library sale yesterday and bought it for 7 cents. I'm excited about it.

I'm In the Buisness of Killin'

What up you pimp ass sleazy-motherfuckers. I'm glad to see that Shit has made it into a major talking point for the blog. The other day I was at a bar with some friends. We had just finished watching Godard's "Contempt" at the Johns Hopkins Film thingy, and decided we'd go have a drink. At the bar, some guys were playing pool, and a friend of mine wanted to play. I suggested to the other dude that we put some money on the game, cuz you know I got that machismo complex, at least in public. The guy sneered at me, and told me to buy him a beer. I laughed and walked away. Later, when I was having a discussion with a friend, the guy came back and started acting up. He said something like, "That's not cool, man...you better watch it next time." I said, "I was joking, relax bro...this isn't the right time." He says, "What's your buisness here anyway?" At this point, I was already quite drunk, and this guy was irritating me, and I felt that impulse of anger rise up, the excessive, the pure hate. I looked at him and said, with sinister eyes, "I'm in the buisness of killin'". I don't think he expected that. I know I didn't. He had a pool-stick in his hands, and could have easily struck me down. But he didn't. He thought I was crazy, and said that I should finish my beer and walked away. I don't know what would have happened had he decided to fight, I guess, at that moment, I was really ready for one, ready to pick up a glass and smash it in his eye.

The saddest thing in the world

Here in Harlem, strands of synthetic hair roll around like the wind-blown tumbleweed of the wild west. It either slips out of hairbraiding shop doors, or it is ripped off of nappy heads in catfights. Either way, it is here in abundance, and I have often had to do a skip-jump to avoid getting a clump caught on my sandal.

Yesterday, having a cigarette outside the post office, I looked down and noticed a pigeon with a mat of pre-or-post-hair-weave hair caught on its feet. The bird was doing a bit of a skip-jump himself, unable to walk like all the other pigeons. This was deeply disturbing, so I got out my Swiss army knife scissors and attempted to lure the bird in. I was getting closer, and put out my half-smoked cigarette for good measure.

Imagining throngs of people (or pigeons) celebrating my good deed, I inched closer and closer to the pigeon, my miniscule scissors at the ready. I was fully prepared to get pecked and shat upon, should I succeed in catching the crippled pigeon. Suddenly I noticed one of his little feet was mangled, slightly deformed, and it occurred to me that this poor pigeon has had a mat of hair weave for shoes all his life.

Just as the pigeon was within my grasp, a MOTHERFUCKIN ASSHOLE cock-walked down the sidewalk, plowing right into my pigeon-rescue zone, without just cause. The pigeon flapped away and a homeless man laughed at me from his post at the trash can, muttering something about futility.

The Dax is Back!

Ignore that previous post. Adam is a shithead.

Yay!! I joined the blog!!! Yay I'm Dax!!!

blood of virgins

dear friends,

while i'm an avid reader of the scsf blog, i've never actually posted anything. i wanted to take this opportunity to tell you all that i'm getting along just fine; grad school is engaging, i'm really into it, especially my libraries through the ages course. allow me to present an excerpt from my "medieval library circulation: practices and policies" textbook:

"for him that steals, or borrows and returns not, a book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. let him languish in pain crying aloud for mercy, and let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. let bookworms gnaw at his entrails in token of the Worm that dieth not. and when at last he goes to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him for ever." obviously librarians have lightened up in the last 1000+ years.

on another library related note, i came across this catalog record while at work: "cursed at birth, the beautiful and ruthless young erzebet becomes obsessed with achieving eternal youth and begins to bathe in the blood of virgin girls in order to preserve her beauty. based on the life of the 'blood countess,' who lived in hungary in the 1500s." and i for one thought goro's lyrics were entirely original. tsk tsk. see - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Báthory_Erzsébet

any whooo, dudes, take care.

yours, justin


+++
_+88
_+880
_++88
_++88
__+880_________________________+++
__+888________________________+888
__++880______________________+888_
__++888_____+++88__________+++8__
__++8888__+++8880++88____+++88___
__+++8888+++8880++8888__++888____
___++888++8888+++888888++888_____
___++88++8888++8888888++888______
___++++++888888888888888888______
____++++++88888888888888888______
____++++++++000888888888888______
_____+++++++000088888888888______
______+++++++00088888888888______
_______+++++++088888888888_______
_______+++++++088888888888_______
________+++++++8888888888________
________+++++++0088888888________
________++++++0088888888_________
________+++++0008888888__________
_________++++++8888888___________

speaking of poo...

This is an excerp form my tranlsation of Krleza's essay on art:

"The great seigneurs received Persian emissaries and envoys of conquered nations while seated on chamber pots, which were given the name “topferl” in Maria-Theresian Vienna, and “chaise percée” at the Versailles of Louis the Sun King; phalanxes of hired drummers, quills, paint brushes, trumpets, flatterers and poet-courtiers stood in circle around this vulgar chair of Versailles, thus creating apotheoses on canvases, pathetic chronicles, legends, dithyrambs and hymns in stone and in words. And in order to hide the difference between the majolica of this apollonian chamber pot and ordinary plebian pots, artist’s hand had to adorn this courtly porcelain with decorative motifs; consequently, le chef d’oeuvre of this digestive throne became a brocaded antependium, a masterpiece of French embroidery, which beautified this all-too-human function in the honor and glory of ludicrous debasement and self-defecation that has lasted in human art even seventy thousand years before Dostoyevsky."

In fact, for an essay that delas with art, "bowels" have a very prominent place, and appear more than a few times.

Poo.

(Article copied from Alternative Library Literature, 1996-1997, p.34)

Ever notice that whenever you go into a library or bookstore, you have to shit? I always thought it was just me, but then I read an interview in the zine “Office Supply Junkie” with a woman who collects office supplies, and she brought it up.

Jeaneen: Buying a lot of office supplies kind of ties in with like, if you go to the library or sometimes a bookstore and you have to go to the bathroom. Tim and I have always talked about it, some of our friends have mentioned that too. Whenever they go into a place where things are organized and collected, especially a library, they have to go really bad.
OSJ: Often the same thing happens when I go to a thrift shop. And it’s not a feeling like “I have to find a bathroom soon.” It comes on real fast.
Jeaneen: Oh, yeah! Yeah!
OSJ: I used to think it’s something with all the banks of fluorescent lights, that the electromagnetic field was affecting my bowels. But it may be tied to this urge for buying filing supplies, or books, and being in this environment of organization, of anality.

That sent me to a library to search through the works of Freud. After a quick trip to the restroom, I found this in “Civilization and its Discontents”:

“The most remarkable of these character traits in an individual is found in the anal eroticism of young human beings. Their original interest in the excretory function, its organs and products, is changed in the course of their growth into a group of traits which are familiar to us as parsimony, a sense of order and cleanliness – qualities which, though valuable and welcome in themselves, may be intensified till they become markedly dominant and produce what is called an anal character.”

Intrigued, I asked some librarian friends about their bowel movements. “Libraries and bathrooms have always been a fascination of mine,” admitted zine curator Billie Aul of the New York State Library. “My study of this problem has led me to think that it hasn’t got anything to do with how anal libraries are. Rather it has to do with standing up for a long time looking at things that are just above your eye-level. It probably only works with people who like books, as I think relaxation has something to do with it.

“This phenomenon has important implications for bookstores,” she added. “Borders recently opened one of their chain stores here. I’ve tried to support the smaller local bookstores, but I always find myself at Borders. Why? I think it’s the bathroom. If the other stores would open their bathrooms to the public, I’m sure much of their business would return.”

Next in line was Jan DeSirey of the Hennepin County Library near Minneapolis. “For me it has to do more with guilt or anxiety,” she says. “I get anxious in bookstores. And the library I use most frequently is the one upstairs from Technical Services, where I work. I always feel rushed and guilty up there, no matter what I’m doing. Would therapy help? Deep breathing?"

Jan pointed me to an article from the September 1994 issue of Esquire in which Jerry Seinfeld reveals that he too has to poo whenever he’s faced with shelves of neatly organized books. The writer of the article describes going into a bookstore on Ventura Boulevard in Los Angeles with Seinfeld, “despite Jerry’s lifelong knowledge that bookstores affect his intestines as would any laxative. ‘I think it’s the quiet. It creates some sort of rectal anxiety, if you’ll pardon the expression.’”

Finally, I contacted Nancy Bonnell-Kangas of the Columbus Metropolitan Library in Ohio and creator of “Nancy’s Magazine.” She suggested I start a zine, “Public Pooping: Libraries, Bookstores, Bodily Functions, Different Peoples’ Experiences, and Possible Explanations.” Don’t tempt me.

Originally printed in Chip’s Closet Cleaner, no.13 (1996), pp.33-4

O, how i shed tears for you, O Diaspora of Vail!

I am in the throes of thesis writing, familiar to some of you of more masochistic nature. Herb, in more than one sense, is helping (If only!).
Dear friends, do not soil your feet by stepping again into Vail. For she is no more...
The Nazi-hippy colonialists have stripped her of her identity, her vulgar idiom, and her future. The picture of Stephen, that brilliant youth with eyes like celestial doves, rots in the shadows, waiting for its redemption. Alas!
Seriously though, those shits have really gone too far. Yet I can't resist alone. Annie said she will be the avant-garde, or the remenant of the old-guard, but truly, has it come to this? Perhaps...
Please think of strategems to freak-out the sqaures that inhabit my and your metaphysical abode.
Otherwise, things to think about (my buudy ol' pal Frankie and I do this all the time at Ol' Town):
Where doe highjinx come from etymologically, especially the jinx part? No dictionaries allowed!
What about rapscalion, that saucy word that needs a codpiece to complete its meaning? (I think I just turned into one of those fat Renaissance fair dweebs, pardon!)
Anayway, that's enough for me. I had no sleep, you see. The dogs are howling from melancholy and the pastures are all mine, being deserted, at this time of night...

Video

This is a directing exersize I acted in over the weekend. Thought it was funny. I didn't have anything to do with the directing or writing, but I'll post some as I do them. Maybe don't watch it with the music?

PS. Dax is tracking down the footage from the "Point of Contention" shoot, and I'm going to edit it at school. Coming soon!

Ross' New Cell Phone Number

My new Address and Cell Phone number is as follows

413 Hoyt Hall
Ypsilanti, MI
48197

New Cell Number
734-218-5891

Give me a call!!!

Peace
Ross

Does anyone remember the McDLT???

I don't. But Jason Alexander sure does:

http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/43/

I can't stop watching this, because the "jingle" is completely nonsensical. I can't detect a pattern or beat or rhythm in any way at all. Plus, at one point, they break into blabber-talk. Watch the woman in the red striped shirt. There's something about her...

Long Live the Queen