Nov

30

Additions to my reading list.

Filed Under Print Media | 1 Comment

So color me impressed. Having barely even thought about the end of the decade from a literature standpoint, I have to say “The A.V. Club’s list is frighteningly similar to what I would have imagined had I bothered to do so. Of those I’ve read–Kavalier & Clay, Blind Assassin, Oscar Wao, Curious Incident, Fortress Of Solitude, Freakonomics, Strange & Norell, Half-Blood Prince, The Tipping Point, Never Let Me Go, and The Road–I’m a big fan of all, with several representing in the all-time upper echelon. Of those I haven’t, well, several (e.g. Middlesex, Time Traveler’s Wife, Fargo Rock City, Bel Canto) have been inhabiting my queue for quite some time. What does that that mean about those about which I’ve never heard? Guess they’re going to inhabit my reading list for the next few months. Ah, lovely.

Nov

29

Lady Gaga.

Filed Under Music | 2 Comments

After being subjected to a couple of music videos by the recording artist–namely “Bad Romance” and “Paparazzi“–I’m starting to understand the appeal. Not only are the songs Madonna-catchy, the imagery in Lady Gaga’s videos is, well, fucked up. I’m actually borderline convinced Lady Gaga, based upon the visuals alone, is a genius worthy of awards, respect, and a dump truck full of critical analysis. What’s significance of the shaved cat in “Bad Romance,” for example? Or the bloody piano interlude in her VMA performance of “Paparazzi”?

Am I wrong in thinking this is worth exploring?

Nov

28

$100.

Filed Under Personal | 4 Comments

Decided to drive around the Olympic peninsula yesterday on a lark. Stopped off at Quinault for lunch, Ruby Beach and La Push’s 1st Beach for beauty, and Poulsbo for dinner. [Yes, I know, I know, if you take the Hood Canal bridge to Kitsap, you're cheating the whole "around Olympic" conceit. But have you ever had to try to find vegetarian fare in those rinky dink towns on the east side of the peninsula?] A problem arose when we arrived at the Narrows going toward Tacoma, which is the “with fare” direction. All I had was a $100 bill. And apparently, against all odds, the toll booth operator refused my cash. Pointed at a sign that indicated the toll booth operator cannot accept bills in denominations larger than fifty. Asked if I had a card. Or a smaller bill. So we paid him in quarters. And gave him a nasty look.

Now, as a former cash register operator, I’m sympathetic to the plight of the small transactioner attempting to use large bills. I intentionally procure a number of $5 bills from the WSECU ATM when I get cash because, well, I don’t think it’s appropriate to pay for a pack of gum with a twenty. At least not if you can help it. But sometimes you just can’t help it. What if I was cardless and changeless? If all the funds I’ve had were wrapped up in this legal tender? Would he still have refused me? Was this him suggesting I be considerate? Because the printed and posted sign didn’t make it seem that way. It seemed as if the toll booth operator was denying that the Franklin I handed him was “legal tender for all debts, public and private.” Odd, no?

Nov

26

“Closer” vs. The B-52s.

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In the grand tradition of the Cash version of “Hurt, may I propose another Nine Inch Nails cover by an aging singer with an unusual voice: Fred Schneider’s Closer. Think about the vocal brilliance of “Rock Lobster” married to the “fuck me like an animal” lyricism of Trent Reznor. Think about Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson chiming in periodically for “help me.” Think about Keith Strickland attempting to adapt the electronic beats to a more go-go style. Think about the new wave guitar stylings of Ricky Wilson incorporating the decaying back room ball gag strumming of the original. Think about the beauty.

Nov

21

Mud flats.

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When D and I moved this past summer, the new digs had, shall we say, a rather low-key garden. A nice flowering tree in the front, a few azaleas and rhododendrons and small conifers to frame the front door, and a lot of grass. So we decided to build some raised beds and fill them with dirt. As it turns out, it is much cheaper, on a per-unit-volume basis, to buy dirt in bulk. So when the man came with five cubic yards, it made rather the dirt pile.

The dirt pile was placed upon the gravel in the front of the house, right alongside the street. The idea being that, when we were done moving what we wanted to move around back or to elsewhere in the front, we’d knock down the pile and plant grass. Or some other ground cover. Great idea, if we’d been speedier.

Unfortunately, we weren’t quick enough. The pile stayed in the front in one form or another for months. Until, two weeks ago, we finally gave up moving anything else and knocked the fucker down. And planted grass seed. In November. The rainy season in Olympia. Needless to say, we now have a mud puddle with a bunch of unsprouted and likely decaying grass seed buried therein in our front yard. Pretty, no?

The thought now is to purchase sod. Or else see if we can get moss to intervene. Any other suggestions?

Nov

21

Cunt vs. nigger.

Filed Under Language | 2 Comments

I have met the occasional easily offended individual that recoils every time I utter one of Carlin’s seven. Well, maybe not “piss.”

But most people seem increasingly comfortable with the taboo vulgarity of the past becoming the mainstream slang of today. “Bitch” has become a term of endearment; “motherfucker” an expression of disbelief (think Marcellus Wallace carrying the box of doughnuts and seeing Butch behind the wheel of Fabienne’s Honda); “shit” an expression of regret; and “fuck”…well, “fuck” has come to mean pretty much anything and everything.

The one exception to the mainstreamization of dirty words is “cunt.” And I say that because I’ve still met an awful lot of otherwise enlightened twenty-first century foxes that hesitate slightly before using “cunt.”

What’s replaced these taboos are the racial and ethnic slurs: “spic,” “kike,” “gook,” and “nigger.” The majority of which, I would admit, I have a problem with. Does that make me “unenlightened”? Or is there a fundamental difference between the objective offensiveness of, say, “cunt” as opposed to “nigger”?

I would submit that there is. The insults I find acceptable, like “dumb cunt,” “sack of shit,” “meathead,” “dumbass,” or “bat-shit-insane motherfucker” all have, at their core, something other than a human. Take “bitch,” for example. Female dog, right? Legitimate word. And essentially what you’re doing when you refer to someone as a “bitch” is characterizing them as similar, in some specified or unspecified way, to a female dog. Perhaps “yappy” is the core characteristic? Or perhaps “vindictive”? Or simply “not very bright”? But the important thing is that the insult is customized to the individual, and highlights negative qualities by reference to something not human.

But, you’re wondering, what about “motherfucker”? Isn’t that a human: a person who has sexual relations with his mother? Well, I think the core of “motherfucker” is the act of motherfucking, not so much the individual involved. I know, I know: it’s a stretch.

So how does that distinguish from racial and ethnic slurs? The core point then becomes, when the word “nigger” is thrown about as an insult, is that the target shares characteristics with “niggers” as a group. And that, on its face, is objectionable. You’re no longer comparing an individual unfavorably to a bucket of feces, a well-worn vagina, or a particularly brainless fanny. Instead, you’re comparing an individual unfavorably to a racial or ethnic group. Big no no. No?

Nov

20

American-flag cake.

Filed Under Humor | 2 Comments

Apparently, The Onion has a new book out. One of headlines. So a couple of editors were interviewed on Morning Edition. Poorly interviewed, I might add. Note to reporters everywhere: repeating jokes without the benefit of a practiced delivery, then laughing, does not make for good news coverage. Repeating the same mistake over and over? Easy fail.

Nevertheless, I found myself tearing up when the 9/11 coverage was mentioned. Specifically, the Not Knowing What Else To Do, Woman Bakes American-Flag Cake story. I don’t know why, but most 9/11-themed media coverage leaves me cold. No significant reaction during “The Daily Show” coverage, or United 93. But The Onion’s “Holy Fucking Shit” pieces, and Howard Stern’s original 9/11 broadcast, fuck me up every time. Whether off-hand and unexpected, or the core focus, I’m Sobby McSobstein when it comes to The Onion and men driving planes into skyscrapers.

Nov

15

Torpedo.

Filed Under Food & Drink, Language | Leave a Comment

Being in the mood for an especially hoppy India Pale Ale, and being at the market with Sierra Nevada products bearing a sale price, I thought I’d purchase a six of Torpedo. Mistake? Perhaps. It isn’t that it’s a bad beer; it has certain charms. But it isn’t an IPA. It’s an extra special bitter. Somewhat disappointing. But more jarring is that the label identifies “Torpedo” as “Extra IPA Ale.” Which, like “ATM machine” and “PIN number” before it, bothers the piss out of the grammarian in me.

Nov

12

Wafer Stick.

Filed Under Food & Drink | 2 Comments

When Y took D and I to Paldo World a few weeks back, we picked up a tub of Flying Elephant-brand “strawberry flavor” “wafer stick.” Essentially cheap Pirouettes, these snack foods are absurdly addictive. One thing about them puzzles me, though: inside the package, there were two wafers that were individually wrapped. What’s up with that?

Nov

11

And then the jury opened up a can of “no.”

Filed Under Law, Olympia | 1 Comment

After yesterday’s disappointing verdict, I get the distinct impression that the sorts of people who respond to jury summons also, by and large, believe law enforcement are scrupulously honest. The testimony contained blatant exaggerations, bat shit insane decrees–one Olympia Police Department officer essentially said, “if I’m aiming for a tertiary target (e.g. a neck) with a baton with a swinging motion, I’m aiming to kill,” turning the whole idea of “deadly force” on its head–contradicted-by-on-the-spot-video oral ejaculates, and a general theme of “if they’re aren’t permanent injuries, the force couldn’t have been excessive.” Nevertheless, the jury of eight concluded in just over three hours that the amount of force each officer used was, well, objectively reasonable. Ouch.

For the future, I do need to polish my “proximity matters” argument regarding First Amendment issues, especially if I’m going to successfully challenge the idea of free speech zones. And I’ll have to be more particular about getting the best quality video possible to the jury. Finally, I’ll have to watch to see whether OPD changes General Order 1.3 to avoid the potential problem that, so long as an officer is able to articulate how a particular instance of “force was reasonable and how it conformed to the law,” that use of force is in accordance with policy.