Joke or No Joke?

Joke:

• I mean, come on. For real?
  
• Candles that look like cock and balls
  
• "To get into heaven, there's no back door"

No Joke:

• Does Christian Rock really use the [other] 'F' word?
  
• Wouldn't put it bast the Christian Fundamentalists...

Joke: "Righteous men, get on your knees"

No Joke: Check out those outfits, with all the pastels

Joke: Check out those outfits, with all the pastels...

No Joke: And the dewey light everywhere...

Joke: And the dewey light everywhere...

No Joke: The website looks legit

Joke: ... except that it lists Cyndi Lauper as a "Safe Band"

No Joke: Maybe Cyndi Lauper is "Safe"

Joke: On her latest album she duets with "Gay Band" Ani DiFranco

No Joke: They probably just didn't do their homework. It also lists both 'Indigo Girls' and 'The Indigo Girls.' I mean, there's a lot of non-Christian Rock in the world...


Verdict

I'm gonna go with a tentative Joke. But there's a lot I just wouldn't put past the Christian Fundamentalists.

Thoughts?

Things that made me happy this weekend

• sitting in the living room with tara enjoying the christmas tree
  
• getting my hair cut (it's not the best ever, but for a growing-it-out cut it is good)
  
• the onion holiday party
  
• 5 orders of steamed juicy pork buns
  
• getting the better part of my christmas shopping done

totally rad

so this past weekend, with the help of mattio, i realized just how non-radical my life got lately. mostly i blame having too much work to have the energy to care about anything. work is crazy because it's advertising. thus, i blame capitalism. it all comes full circle. or... something.

i guess it really started with last week being a crappy one work-wise. so that's where i was coming from.

RudeMO

friday night i went to see the Rude Mechanical Orchestra, NYC's radical street band that i was going to join over the summer. i failed to do so before work became crazy again (hm, i sense a theme), so now the goal is january. but it turns out scarlisle is in the RMO, as is mattio's roommate ricky, whom i'd met at bsom's birthday party, and with whom i'd discussed the RMO, which he was joining at the time (again, full circle. another theme). this makes mattio and myself groupies, apparently. well, that and the part where we went and hung out while they all warmed up. so then we headed over and watched Drunkest Band Ever play the end of their set, then ask where the Infernal Noise Brigade was (speaking of which, did y'alls know they broke up? back in july), before continuing to play so that they had to be cut off so RudeMO could take the stage.

then, they played Bella Ciao! then they played Decepticon, complete with the dance! and awesome new lyrics! about bombs! and motherfucking wargames! i'm so "trying out" for this band as soon as possible.

Freegan Bike Workshop

so then on saturday, mattio showed me the Freegan Bike Workshop. it's this warehouse-type space full of clothes, in the back, and found bike parts in the front. so we set about building me a bike. it was mostly not very successful, but i got my hands all greasy and learned a couple of things about bicycles. one day we'll make it back and finish me one. it'll be pretty awesomely not matching. then i can cover it with stickers and such, perhaps.

so maybe i should ask for a bicycle helmet for christmas (hint hint ::cough:: mom ::cough::), the kind that's safer than my old one as wearing a helmet does increase one's chances of getting hit by a car (but it also increases your chances of surviving said collision, and increases my chances of feeling safe and secure). oh and an NYC-sized lock. but not the kind that could be picked with a bic pen. do they still sell those?


so now i need to do all of my christmas shopping, and i'm not in a very consumerist mood. and, i'm still busy with work (work theme, and full circle theme, making a theme theme, which just caused this post to implode)

Adventures in Showering

So it was a Saturday, not too long ago, when VJR decided to celebrate her birthday. The birthday was also not too long ago, so this made perfect sense.

I had left the same VJR mere hours before after a trip to the knitting store (no, that wasn't supposed to rhyme). Excited about the new project and the fabulously fallish weather, I went out rollerblading. At dusk. So of course, in the fading light, I failed to notice the twig in the road and went right down. Now, I'm scrappy, so of course I got back up and finished the circuit.

Once home, I decided it would unacceptable for TQ to stay late at work. It was Saturday! So I texted her:

Dude, you'd better leave work on time. It's Saturday! I'm showering now, when I get home you'd better be here.

Then I looked at my knee, and texted TQ again:

Um, could you pick up some gauze and band-aids on the way?

I scraped up my knee 9-year-old style. And my elbow a little. I'm hoping for a righteous scar. It's been a week and the elbow is fine and the knee is totally healing. I'll keep ya posted.

So showering took a bit of time.

TQ got home and delivered the medical goods. So I bandaged up the knee before it could ooze on too much, while we watched some Prisoner (see previous post).

TQ needed to rant, so I offered to join her in the shower (ew, get your mind out of there it's dirty. The shower curtain is opaque; I was sitting on the toilet) so that she could rant and clean at the same time (ooh, time-saving!).

So I decided to further time-save, as we were already looking to be rather late, by having dinner (cereal with milk) in the bathroom with the cleaning and the ranting.

This is where the trouble started.

As per usual, there was no hot water. So TQ, covered with soap, was wet and cowering in the corner and ranting. I needed something, so I put the bowl on the top part of the toilet and got it, and when I sat back down I knocked over the bowl, breaking it and spilling cereal and milk all over the floor.

So with the bandaged and painful knee I had to somehow kneel on the floor and reach around behind the toilet to clean up broken porcelean and TQ is trying to rinse off without freezing her arse off. This part goes surprisingly smoothly.

But of course, neither of us has clean clothes. Again, we're scrappy, so this wasn't too big a problem. Bending my knee in jeans wasn't the most fun thing, but we arrived at the party with perfect timing--just as BSom was getting there too! We RULE!

The Prisoner (on DVD!)

So I catsat a couple of weeks ago for Joe, and as it turns out in addition to a shit-ton of records, he has a shit-ton of DVDs, including all of The Prisoner.

The Prisoner is an acid-trip of a mystery/action/spy thriller from 1967 in which a recently-retired secret agent gets drugged and passes out only to wake up in an isolated place called The Villiage in which everyone's name is replaced with a number and there's no indication of who's who and whom to trust. It influenced such shows as Lost, and basically is awesome.

It takes lots of concentration to get what's going on, but for the most part it's episodic and you don't need to watch them in order. In fact, the DVD set I borrowed has a different order than the original air dates.

It's thick with symbolism and sometimes its clues are in the minutest of details.

I definitely recommend.

Snakes and Planes

Ooh, topical!

So I flew to Norway, by way of Iceland, a couple of weeks ago. Iceland Air is the most direct one-stop flight to Norway from the States, with the added bonus of stopping in Iceland. Some may not call this so much of a bonus, considering I certainly wasn't there long enough to stray from Keflavik Airport, but now that Europe is consolidating its immigration duties that means I have an all new stamp on my passport. Woot!

A week after getting home, that whole liquid terror plot thing happened. Had my trip been a week later, or had the Republicans preemmptively exposed the plot by an extra week, those flights home would have sucked. Or they wouldn't have existed for an extra few days, which I can't say I would have minded. Check out bsom for better analysis of the terror plot propaganda.

Then this past week, the Brooklyn Bridge Park film series screened Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, a fine movie featuring planes (complete with propellers and red lines) and snakes ("Why'd it have to be snakes"), and this:

There's a big snake in the plane, Jock.
Oh, that's just my pet snake Reggie.
I hate snakes, Jock. I hate 'em.
C'mon, show a little backbone, will ya?

Possibly the best snake-on-plane dialogue ever, but do please submit your own. Just please don't ruin any new movies for me and my loyal readers until they've been out for at least a couple weeks.

In other movie news, World Trade Center opened a week or so ago, and I don't think I really want to see it. I must say I'm a little angry at Oliver Stone—if he's not careful he's going to give some pretty big ideas to the terrorists.

This is a test

Yes, I'm using my blog for work. Don't ask. but do get excited.

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