Happy Birthday Jesus!


Not a chance in Heaven!

Happy Birthday Candace!


"Oh damn, this rocks!"

then the robots danced.

I've been at home with the flim fam this week, admiring the Christ tree and it's lighty lights. It gets a bit boring here in Lebanonia, what with nobody living around these parts anymore, and no where's really to go. But this house is big and nice and the downstairs is warm.

I realized this holiday season that I don't really have a shine for Christmas music anymore. I was sitting in one of the OSU dorm eating areas working on a project when some of the tunes-in-question came over the radio, and the realization cam to me that I've been hearing the same songs every December my entire life. Sure, these songs may have programmed a Pavlovian Christmas-mood reaction within me, but that doesn't mean I'm not sick of them. I am quite.

What's worse is all these "new" versions of the same old songs. These newer artists have discovered a tried and true way of making more money: Holiday Albums! They require no creative effort, and people are guaranteed to buy them! But I can't imagine who would. Really, who wants to hear Little Drummer Boy sung by Beyonce? Or Usher? Or Timberlake? Or Celine? Or Britney? Or Christina? Or Jahosephat? Or ...Bush? Or random guy on the street who needs a buck so he cut a Christmas record?
I don't. And neither do you.

Sinatra can pull it off. So can Deano and Ray, and maybe the London Symphony Orchestra. But you can only reinterpret these songs so many times before you have to let them go. I was recording my own Christmas-themed songs last weekend, and you know what I did? I wrote my own. I added some heaping bags of Caws-Pobi-craziness. I even started to cover a well known diddy about a baby in a manger, but a third of the way through the song the music stops and begins again with new sounds and words. The only worry I had with these songs is that maybe they are too eccentric, that perhaps Christmas music is a sacred cow that cannot be tipped. But then I figured that it must be tipped, that I create all my music on the basis that there is no such thing as 'too eccentric', and then the only worry I had was whether the songs are wierd enough. As of now my own regards to the songs I'm making are still unsettled. Working within a theme is fun, but it is a limit. Also, I feel that these aren't necessarily the kind of songs I would normally be producing, but the Christmas theme adds a drift towards novelty and sillyness that I didn't bother to correct. In the end I just say - what the hell. Now that Cody's back maybe we can get my dusty music site up and running again, and then you'll all be able to hear what the hell I'm talking about.

Yeah. What was this post about? I can't remember. But here's this:

"holiday" portrait.



And one with Max...


And one with Chad...and an aeroplane...

baroque Giger: the fractured fractal post...

Well, the pretty fractal pictures I had up for a few days have decided they don't want to be up anymore. "Direct linking not allowed" and all that. But I still have what I wrote below. So anyway...

...Fractals! More specifically, visualizations of math equations with infinitesimal solutions. It's intriguing to see math and art come together so beautifully, considering art is one of my greatest loves and math one of my deepest hates. What struck me about this fractal artwork is that the artist seems to be the equation itself. These twisting, pulsing, beautiful and bizarre images come not from the imagination of a human mind but from intricate, complex patterns of numbers and pixels. I can look at the pictures above and my brain automatically draws connections to sea shells, skeletons, 17th century art movements or biomechanical Swiss surrealism. But that is all the fault of my schemas, as I could probably never look at an image created by Utlrafractal (the software used to create the pictures above) and simply see numbers.

Here is a good site for more information on fractals and the applications of, and here is a site with some rad images.

Northern Gumption.



You all must check out my boy Tristan's site Marginalia. His doodles have always been super good cheese, transcending the notebook-paper margins into which they are born. They are so good that I am hereby commissioning Sir Tristan of Goshen to provide arts and designs for my album packaging if I ever get around to finishing that next album.

Now, back to studying.

finals continue...


(make up your own caption...)

"The LORD is God and has given us light. Join in procession with leafy branches up to the horns of the altar."




Still not convinced that Jesus is your savior? Watch this.

the fortress.

I'm drinking strong coffee and writing an essay about Weegee. I guess I didn't post much for this month of November, but I've been busy, you know.

Sometimes in the dark hours of one's life we cope in strange ways. The stress will keep stinging you all over like a bodysuit of bees until something snaps in your mind and you start doing something, building something. A fort! Random things are brought together and wrapped up in blankets, sheets and towels to create a space, one that didn't exist before. And you inhabit that space, which may be small and uncomfortable, but it feels secure. And you sleep in it, and then wake up and perfect it some more. Further fortify it against everything. The fort must be solid and strong! We shall pack some rations for the coming night, and make sure the entrance can be sealed from within. That way the in can stay in and the out can stay out.

But eventually I destroyed the fort. I woke up and made some coffee and looked at the cacoon that filled my living room like Richard Dreyfus's mock mountain, and I knew it couldn't exist anymore. I did not want to inhabit that space. So I dismantled it, returning my apartment to the way it was. Now I look back on the rise and fall of the fort, and I can't help but laugh.

You've gotta ask yourself...

Which David Bowie are you?

My test revealed that I am Berlin-era Bowie, collaborating with Brian Eno and drinking hard liquor with Iggy Pop. Personally I would say I'm more of a pre-Ziggy, post-Man Who Sold the World, Hunky Dory (with a haircut) Bowie.



But what do I know?

Hyper nonsense world tabasco shower.

I've got nothin to write about. I just thought I should post a new post.

Let's see... Oh, I saw Dawn of the Dead the other day. The new one, that is. I've seen the old one, which was better, but the new one is good zombie fun...if your idea of fun is black zombie babies and chainsaw'd people.

Hey, does anyone still eat Pop Tarts? I do. I like them. I should get some. Mmm. I could go for one right now. A big pop tart that I could sleep in, and then wake up and eat it, and then go back to sleep. I'm sure somewhere...

Here's to drinking burning embers.

"the screaming lifestyle of my nightmares."



You know what? Ralph Steadman is one of my favorite living artists. Now you know.

http://www.ralphsteadman.com/

day off from thinking.

So I'm finally giving you a real post. It's been a strange week, really. Or maybe not. Maybe it just seems strange from today's vantage point.

I've been pretty out of it all day today. I don't know why, but my theory is that my brain is giving me the day off. I've been thinking too much this past week- thinking about classes and homework and people and politics and faulty expectations and plenty of other things. And it's probably because of all this troubled thinking that I haven't had a sober night's sleep in 5 days. This morning I woke up at about 10:30 and was not greeted by the usual avalanche of thoughts. Instead everything was simplified.
Get up. Drink some water. Oh look, Joel is still sleeping. Oh that's right, dishes need to be done. Oh well. In the meantime, coffee.

My brain was only concerned with the immediate. I had to make a conscious effort to think about the deeper, more contemplative things. I wasn't even terribly stressed out about my history of photography midterm tomorrow, althought I probably should be. Today was just for being and doing. I do what must be done. Even now, I'm having trouble coming up with sentences.

Maybe you want to hear my thoughts on that election. Was I depressed? Was I shocked? Was I horribly crushed and disappointed? No, not really. So Bush is president again. Sure, I wasn't expecting it, but it's not so surprising. What, you didn't know that America was chock full of idiots? I did. So you can't really say that Mr. Bush is an inapporopriate figurehead of this 'proud nation'. And so what if he is president? He's not president of my immediate environment. He doesn't rule Brettamerica. And look at the bright side- we get to laugh at him for another 4 years.

I'm sure tomorrow my brain will be up and running again, and all the thoughts and troubles will be back to buzz around my head. But right now I have to print out some photographs. Y'all have a good one.

look everyone!

It's nothing but a big train wreck!

join us!

Some new links to associate eblos. The ring of fire is almost complete.

http://www.outhouserat.blogspot.com/

http://www.devilinasuit.blogspot.com/

22 special kids.

So I'm 22 now. I have 1 year of legal drinking experience. I'm an official bar veteran. What did I do this weekend, you ask? With the birthday and the halloween happening stuff and the week with its end? Well, I did some stuff. But you know, I don't feel like writing about it. I just don't. I'd have to hit these keys a bunch of times and type all these words and then I'd have to read it and make sure it makes sense and doesn't offend anyone (too much) and then I'd have to post it and all that... So I'm not going to. Just assume I did something crazy, or make up your own "Brett's 22nd Birthday" story. Cus I'm tired.


I'm a dork for Halloween!

"super sexy razor happy girls"



Well, my post-counter was apparently not working for a few weeks, so I didn't know that my 3ooth post was that one about going to Portland to see the Eagles of Death Metal. Oh well. When I get to 400, I'll be sure to do something special.

So anyway, about that attractive girl doing the ninja kick: When I was down in Ashland, I found a CD called The Fake Fake Sound of Mika Bomb, by the band Mika Bomb. I really wanted to listen to it, but there were no listening stations or anything. Had the CD not been $17.99 I would have bought it, because I'm a sucker for Japanese punk rock girls. Something about those two extremes - cute, modest ultraconformity and mean, loud nihilism - really tickles me. So naturally I wanted to hear this Mika Bomb. Hell, from what I've read they seem to top Lolita No. 18 in glamour and stage presence.

But alas! This internet fails me in providing free downloads of this band's music. Even the 'media' link on their website seems to be out of order. So I suppose I will have to live with their assumed sound that I have in my head, which is fine. ...Because I probably assume them to be better than they actually are.

I don't read NME.

"...If rock music is the British Museum, the NME is the gift shop at the entrance, where you can buy postcards and ingenious little plastic models of the antiquities on view inside." -Momus

On an unrelated note, I added some links to my little eblo. Y'know; scroll waaaay down to the bottom.

blog hoppin', oh isn't it wild.

Well I listened to Joel, and now I've gotten hooked on reading other people's blogs. Just hit that little "next blog" button up there, and you'll be whisked away to some random person's thoughts.

Here are some good one's I've found:

Mary Ann Sucks - I guess we all know who had the last laugh. And it wasn't Mary Ann.

Rev Monkey - I'll be damned if this kid doesn't think like me...

QT's diary - Here's Quentin Tarantino's blog. Can you believe it? The guy writes like he talks.

went poop.

Blog parody is fun.

October 4
Today Angel walked around in circles before licking her butt. Then she ate some food, and later puked the food all over me. I wasn't mad at her, though. Good dog she is. She is doning very well.

October 3
Angel seems a little depressed today. Rather than sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea and telling me about how optimistic she is about her doggy life, she spent the whole day walking around on all fours and sniffing things. Then at one point she licked her butt for 28 minutes, and I couldn't understand why. I worry about her, but she won't talk to me. Why??

October 2
Today my friend came by to tell me I should get out more, and while she was talking to me Angel pooped on the carpet. I sniffed the poop and it smelled like poop, which is good. I put the poop in the fridge so that I can look at it later, and maybe I will show the poop to Angel when she is older and remind her of these difficult times.

October 1
Today I sat down at the table with Angel and put a notepad in front of her so she could write down how she is feeling and any improvements she feels she has made. But instead of writing down anything, she hopped off the chair and urinated on herself. I spent 5 hours trying to figure out what she was trying to tell me, but I don't know. This dog, this beautiful dog, is somehow the most significant figure born into this world since Jesus of Nazereth. I must figure out why she does every single thing that she does, for only then will I be a mystical prophet fit to ride Angel into elysium.

Angel.

"I'm non-stop. I'm a rececar in the fuckin red."

Last night I went up to Portland with Chado and Joel-san where we met up with Aaron-kun and went to see the Eagles of Death Metal. For $5! Can you believe it? They were a good live band, seemingly aware that their time is short so they should have fun while they can. During the musical festivities Joel and I drank a bit, ordering a couple turkey&cokes which prompted the bartender to warn us "this'll burn your faces off." But I think I still have my face.

After the show we got some donuts. "I need a Portland cream" I said to a counter man. Then, back on the street, Aaron's roommate put his shirt in his pants and we all had a hearty chuckle. Later on at Aaron's we witnessed the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' video for "Y Control", which rocked our socks. Little kids playing with a dead dog. Yes, you must watch, kids.

Even later on Joel drank a bunch of beer courtesy of some guy he called 'Tom', and then we sat on the porch like a bunch of old-timers and many an R-rated story were told. Then a certain young man puked and peed on everything.

We returned to Corvallis around 6:30am, and I slept through Japanese. But all was well, for I went to the coffee shop and got free coffee and chocolate cake. I couldn't find any good pictures of the band, so here's this.

I think he's dead. Thanks for reading!

blogjole.

Green Giant and Little Sprout wanted me to inform you of this, Joel's eblo. Joel is that guy who comes out of your sink when you turn the knobs backwards.

oh, sleepy. so sleepy.

I just set a new personal record for falling asleep in class. Not for longevity, but for frequency. I must've had 20 10-second naps during history of photography. I hate that class. History of photography should be fun and interesting, not 'read 8 chapters and write 3 journal entries every damn week with an essay on top and a dash of idiotic group work.'

So Caws Pobi has begun recording again. Sometime last week I said "Dammit, Caws! We gotta make shit happen!" And he crawled out from under a pile of empty beer bottles and said "Yesh. Catywhompous catydids." I'm thinking now that I'm just going to record whatever I feel should be recorded and then compile it all, including old stuff and the scrapped blues-album stuff, into one album. And wouldn't you know, just when I decide this Chad shows up and borrows the Music Generator again. But that's phine. Recently I've been producing little experiments using just my guitar, my voice and lots of Acid effects. The other night a vocal experiment grew into an actual song, the result sounding something like T.Rex and Ween on a sinking sailboat.

And I have the inspiration of some new things going on, like my new roomate and my new classes and new people and new social circles. This term I have all my classes (except Japanese) in the Fairbanks art building. This place is not completely new to me, but going there every day for classes is new.

And here is a new story: This afternoon I wandered into the temporary installation room to find a large wooden sphere with speakers and gizmos all over it which were connected to a computer. When I walked in, a big old bell connected to the computer sounded my entrance. Hung on the walls of the room were sheets of white paper with words written over words written over words, and each mass of words was composed in a keen geometric shape. On one side of the room atop three pedestals were old velvet-interior suitcases, opened to show loafs and slices of bread. In a corner of the room there was a short balding man in a green polo shirt writing a new word-mass. He said to me "I'm just about to leave, otherwise I'd give you the long and short of what this is all about." To him I replied "I don't think I want to know. Right now this is all great because I don't understand any of it. It creates an enclosed atmosphere of confusion, which is awesome." The guy was Sebastian Mendes, and both he and his room were new.

I was accompanied in the machine-bread-bell room by Miki, who is in my aforementioned photography class. Miki is friends with Candace, and they are part of a new circle I have been associating with. New people are good, but as I learned earlier today, old people you haven't seen for a while are also good, especially when that person is a girl you used to have a crush on who is visiting America for a week and now speaks great English and is happy to see you. I knew her before, but her personality today was new.

But aside from the news, last night there was some craziness going on in and around my apartment involving Jose and a fight at Sanchos and some cops and some beer in the bush and Chad and Joel. That kind of stuff is not new, but it's still good.


Rad.

you can't fool me, Braff. your movie sucks.

Last night I saw Garden State at the local movie house. I haven't seen a lot of movies lately, and there are few out that I actually wanted to see. Garden State was one of them. I had heard it was good, enjoyable, thought provoking. So I went. And it sucked.

It's not a completely awful movie, but that may be why I disliked it so much. It tries to fool you. I tries to trick you into thinking you haven't seen a character like this before, a romance like this before, a directing style like this before, or a story like this before. But about a third of the way through the film, I snapped out of it. I blinked and looked around at all the other viewers in the audience, laughing at the jokes and reacting to the characters. I realized that I had seen it all before, and so has the pretentious director, writer and star, Zach Braff.

Okay, Zachary. I'm sure you're thrilled that people are comparing your movie to The Graduate. But You know what? Your movie isn't The Graduate, and you are not Dustin Hoffman, no matter how iciotically aloof you try to appear. That movie was great. Your movie sucks like a thirsty lamprey.

Your movie has a character so disconnected that it isn't believable after a while. I got the impression that this dude is trying his hardest to be a shy, innocent guy just to pick up chicks. But throw in something about his mom dying, and poof! you have to feel sorry for him.

Hey, anyone remember Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Yeah, that movie was teriffic. Remember how Jim Carrey is the shy, innocent guy who meets up with Kate Winslet, the hot young eccentric girl? Well, gee-willikers, those characters turn up in this movie, only they're played by Zachary Braff and Natalie Portman! And their romance does, too! And so does a bunch of ridiculous diologue between them in a movie relationship you can see coming from a billion miles away!

Hey, do you like The Shins? Neither do I! But Zachary sure does, because he wrote a whole scene into the movie that tries to balance on the fact that you like them, even if you think they suck! And another thing, I don't know if The Shits...er, Shins do every song on the soundtrack, but it sure sounds like they do, because every song sounds the same, and after a while they were failing miserably to appeal to my sweet wussy indie-rock side.

I don't have time to rant about this movie all night. I'll just add that there is an obligatory "drug sequence" and a clumsy "slow-motion badass walk scene" that belongs nowhere near this movie. On the bright side, there is a funny scene with a guy dressed like a night. ...Yeah.

Okay, I have to get back to my homework. So go do somethig that doesn't involve seeing that movie I've been talking about. Have a good one.

draw me a sheep, dammit!

I'd like to take this time to talk about my favorite book ever, The Little Prince (Le Petit Prince) by Antoine de Saint Exupery. Here is the official site for the book, complete with a cute little flash animation.

I first read the book a few years ago out of curiosity and a fondness for the cover drawing, and I read it again just a few weeks ago in Ashland. What at first glance appears to be a whimsical children's book is actually a whimsical philosophical look at the worlds we create for ourselves and how we perceive them. I'm sure that sounds very broad and very vague, but The Little Prince is a story told with such simplicity (and few pages) that you are able to identify with it immediately, and then the significance of its message comes to you gently through the innocence of the title character.

I realize that I haven't even mentioned what the book is about, but if you don't know then you will just have to read it. And I'm sure you can find it somewhere for cheap.


Yeah, I wore that to prom. *rim shot!*

countryside putty: yet more fun with web translation.

It's time again to drop in on Emi Necozawa's web diary and see what kind of surreal adventures she's been having:

"With little thing, HipHop boy of black in quarrel. The boy about of 10 years old where it is involved beating, it cries. Pitiful!"

"First, I who am attached to the store can luster the eye right away with the underground. Oh, this it is good! Wooden torso of TOCA."

"You eat the countryside putty the time, mule where I painted the mustard, what it has done is? Cannot be that. With you say, is not. Huh? There is no mustard in the putty? The mustard is at the time of the sausage."

"But, the bean jam ball 'you became tired already. You became tired.'"

"The inside of the body is painful.... And also the jaw is painful. The ballet of yesterday it is to place the body. The jaw is consequence of the sandwich of kayzer."


I ain't no square in my corkscrew hair...

recent journeys and doings.

I know, it's been a while. That's because Brett has been busy. After shingling the roof, I ventured to the magical land of Ashland to chill out in Andy's court. Then I returned to the kingdom of Lebanon to find that the castle needed painting, so I did that for a few days. Then I returned to the valley of Corvallis to kick it with Natsuki's fair sister Chiaki and the maiden Yuki. Then I killed a dragon or something.

Now school has begun again, and for some reason I feel really depressed about that. Hm. Anyway, I will try to start posting regularly again.




records I bought.

fixed and fixled!

Thanks to Tristan Gary Oldman King for telling me the secret of fixshing my special message. Props and cheers, T. GOK!

the bad and the good.

Hey, how about that stupid search bar at the top of my eblo? Not only does it not work, but it blocks the special message I always have in the top left corner. You can bet those Blogger dipshits are going to hear from me this time.

In other news, the roof is virtually done, Luke is moving in, and David's wedding was a blast from the past in the ass. And I watched some more movies.


video pick of the week: Ichi the Killer

what I've been doing.









The roof is near completion. Thank Christ.

"I hate half-assed flakes."

So lately I've been not doing much. Waiting to put a new roof on the house, playing Manhunt, and coming back to Corvallis only for a night only to find out that I'm screwed in the roommate department. If any of you people feel like moving in with me, please don't be shy.

But anyway, I did see a silly little Japanese horror film called Eko Eko Azarak. Here is a review by some guy who liked it way too much. My review would go something like this:
"So this woman's head explodes on the street, and some monks speak in tongues. Then we have a perverted school teacher, an evil school teacher, a kid with a Prince haircut, and an underdeveloped young witch character. Soon the movie become the best comedy of the summer, featuring such knee-slapping scenes as a girl getting killed (somehow) by a toilet, and a kid falling...er, flying down some stairs because his shoelaces are tied together. Haw haw! Throw in a lesbian sex scene and an evil axe, and you have the most accurate portrait of Japanese high school life ever put to film. Parents, grab the kids for some family fun. -BS"


Guess which one's face explodes!

are you a cool cowboy?

behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber

Right now there is a handful of Japanese students wandering about the library's computer area. They are apparently being led on a tour by Shiho, who helped out in my Japanese class for a term. She is a delightfully pale little thing, with long black hair and eyes like Buddha.

...But I'm getting distracted. A few minutes ago I accidentally mistyped the address of The Flying Wheel and was taken to a "mega site of Bible studies". On the homepage I found links like "Jesus desk" and "Satan's voice", and a picture of Israel. I found the link about cults particularly interesting.

Here, see for yourself: http://www.wehatebrett.logspot.com

If you scroll down on the homepage you will find big pink words announcing "THE SOON COMING CLIMAX", followed by a thorough guide to the end of the world and why you should feel bad about it. And if you happen to make it to the bottom of the page, you will be invited to sign their "guestboo".

I just thought I'd share that with you. By the way, what is a winebibber?

"Pop-a-shot basketball at O'Brien's!"

I have some links for you today. First, here is an article about a group in South Africa that stares at criminals as a way of fighting crime.  They just stare, menacingly.  The silliest part is, it's apparently working.  "50 shops and local businesses have re-opened and criminal gangs have moved out of the area."  How is this working??  I figure it's only a matter of time before some genius gang leader realizes that the best way to neutralize the threat of some old geezer glaring at you is to punch him in the face.  Better yet, just give him the "are you lookin' at me?" routine.  Don't they have DeNiro movies in South Africa?  It's called intimidation, people!!

My second link is an essay I found outlining the genius of my favorite commercials ever. Strangely enough, they were Nike commercials, but they were faaan-tastic.


Beware!

the news and the olds.

  I'm back in the Cornvalley. This past weekend has seen much drinking and music playing and good time having and door breaking and La Conga eating and all around good time having. And I got paid $60 last night for something I did months ago. So I guess it's profitable to just hang out here during the summer. 
  I still don't have any adequate recording devices, so yesterday I took a mediocre song of mine on my konpyuter and managed to divide it into two rad songs. I wonder if Hoobastank has ever thought to do that? ...No, I'm pretty sure they never have. I'm pretty sure they suck, too.
  Wildcat was written in a kind of obsolete vernacular. Wildcat. Wild cat...  Scroll down for the Andy birthday creation myth.

Andy creation myth.

Today is Mick Jagger's birthday. But I am not celebrating that. I failed to write about my boy Andy's burthday on the day that the day was a day, so today I will shout out. Andy super day of birth! Thine gods split the heavens and send down an ice cream alcohol cake! 21,000 years ago, the planets aligned and a cosmic force caused the seas of Jupiter to boil! And a man of men doust(?) burst forth from a black hole, much like Jimmy Carter or Ronald McDonald! And he looked like THIS!


Or something liek that. Enjoy 21 things.

 

more stuff.
 
I guess I'll continue with the Japanese theme of yesterday's post (or is it everyday's?) and give you this link to Momus's livejournal. I always read his writings, and I always enjoy them, but these past few days he has been writing about his return to Japan, and his thoughts and feelings of the place are so parallel to mine that I must refer you to them (although he likes tako, and I dislike tako). Reading his posts make me want to go back there even more than usual. I miss it so!
 
In news of me, my summer term of school is over. I got an A- in drawing, which is very kool and the gang. Gender Differences went well I think, and I kicked ass in my presentation with Candace (who was nice enough to comment the other day). Cheers, Can-chan!
 
 

I wanna be a GS dandy.
 

 
Lately I've been reading about a phenomenon known as group sounds, or GS. What is GS, you ask? Well, in the 1960s the Beatles toured that magical land of Japan and left a great impression on the nation's youth. This new interest in western bands like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and The Small Faces led to many young Japanese men starting british-invasionesque rock groups. But since the Japanese have a very difficult time pronouncing "rock and roll", they simply called the bands "group sounds".  And thus, bands such as the Tempters, the Spiders, the Carnabeats, and the Human Beinz(above) were born.  
 
I find it interesting that these bands are almost completely forgotten today. Whereas young westerners are very much in tune with rock bands from yesteryear, most of my Japanese friends don't have any interest in what their parents listened to, even though the GS influence can be seen in modern Japanese bands like Kinmokusei and Teenage Lust (although the latter also give props to a certain Detroit garage band). But I suppose that's just the Japanese way; fake vintage is hipper and cheaper than real vintage. But here at the Flying Wheel, we remember the Carnabeats, and their rad name.
 

camera gargoyle.

I came across this picture on Adi's photo site. It was taken at last month's graduation ceremony. Why do I look so distressed?

my favorite bear.

So I had to give the 4-track back to Chad. You should all know: it's very difficult to record an album when you are borrowing equipment. Anyway, I did get a couple of the stranger songs recorded for my blues album, but it isn't complete yet. I don't know when it will be. Perhaps after I get my own track-recording device in which to plug my devices.

Spider Man 2 is a grand moving picture show. I've seen it twice. So should you.

Natsuki send me a link to the website of my favorite bear. Go and see.

new eblo design.

"What kinda gun is that? A sissy gun?"

That last post is from last week, but I couldn't post it then because Blogger was being a naughty baby.

I went to visit Andy in his habitat, and 'tis a fine habitat. Ashland, the magical land of of unicorns, street musicians and playgrounds. There were cowboy video games and Pictionary. Good times, fun for the whole family!

I'm going home now to finish drawing some boxes. Yes. Boxes.

A line has two sides.

Today I built up the courage to check my grades from last term, and miraculously I passed everything. I think one grade in particular must be a mistake, but God bless it.

Summer classes are happening. Drawing in the morning, psychology in the afternoon time. Tis good good.

You know what? Brian Eno is a genius, and today I am telling you to know that. Here is a picture of him in his prime:


Here is a link to a good website about his zaniness, or just go here for the fun of his his oblique strategies!

new post.

Hey, I just realized that the last post was my 275th post. I'll have to do something special when I get to 300.

In Lebanon. Finals finished. Did pretty bad. Chad graduated. ...In Lebanon. Not doing much. Weather is hot. Summer classes start Monday.

I'll post something else when I have something to post about.


Inside the Cobra recording studio...

momus steals my thunder.

Hey y'all, check this out. Momus recorded a new nonsensical electronic blues song. Cool. ...I mean dammit.

I'll just have plan yet more weirdness.

finals.

Hey everyone, finals are bad! I want you all to break something in honor of finals as traumatic as they are.

By the way, the blues album (working title My Guitar Sings My Troubles) is on indefinite hiatus since I do not have the 4-track or a microphone in my posession at the moment. Any complaints can be emailed to Chad.

Here's a drawing that changes daily.


Yeah, Manet sucks.

maintaining the alligator farm.

I fixed the archives, so now you can go back and read old posts from this eblo. That's what I've been doing. But it's a shame the old templates don't come up anymore. Those retro old days when there was burgundy and dark green and blue...

By the way, here's a link back by popular demand. Behold!

video pic of the week.

Recently I saw the films Elephant and Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. Elephant is good. Very well made. It makes you think, but that seemed to be its weakness; the viewer is left to mentally fill in the holes, and there are a lot. I think the theatrical preview (included on the DVD) gave as much information and story as the entire film itself, and that's not saying that the preview was long or informative. But I did see Kyle Warren. Way to go, Kyle- you're in a movie where you probably get shot.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind is great. I recommend it. Y'all should see it.


Elephant


Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

Oooohh, satellite!

Hey, all you midgets check out Andy's new eblo. It's FRESH. Also, there is a new song on my music page that you should enjoy. More fun with Sesame Street.

Last night I watched Zardoz with Andy and Chad. Quite a movie. The other day we were brainstorming a list of Movies for Us (stupid/genius movies that you must see if you want to be...well, us.) That list went something like this:
Zardoz
Flash Gordon
Bejond the Valley of the Dolls
The Wicker Man
maybe Equinox, and maybe The Dark At the Top of the Stairs

These are movies so bad/confusing/senseless that they are heelarious and worth watching again and again. Check them out from your local library.

fish system: more fun with web translation.

This new blogger design will take some getting used to. In the meantime, let's see what Emi Necozawa has been writing in her web diary:

"How thinking, forgetting the composition of the assignment which the cod sure enough, with special care you do in the house, it attends class."

"When the man where in the underpants your own name have entered with the magic you know each other, whether just a little good impression. (How probably will be?)"

"There being the tomato boiling of the squid in the present menu, you eat. It is tasty? Fish system is tasty after all."

"So when it does, the mummy taking in the mummy. You found with the travelling bag corner of 2 F. Very, you use, the appealing Boston bag of the selfishness."

"Because bean jam ball you are bad, the extent which changed the wallet. Lose 4 time cards at half year and fold, the professional of procedure it became. It is quick, it is quick."

Man, she must lead an interesting life. Thanks, Babelfish!

can't spell "friends" without 'crap'.

I'm not going to write about the last episode of Friends. I'm going to write about a stupid television show which didn't understand that adding heaping amounts of sappy drama to a sitcom completely sucks the comedy out of it. Not that there was much comedy to begin with; every joke could be seen from a mile away, and even through binoculars they were not funny in the least. But now the thing is over, and a whole generation of girls are panicking becouse they have nothing idiotic to talk about with their real-life friends anymore. I never watched the damn show. I heard there was a "plot twist" at the end, probably having to do with a goddam baby or someone else's baby or some baby that they found on the street, and that's not much of a twist because a baby is a classic cliche "twist" to add to any story. I would have only been satisfied if the twist was something like "it turned out Crandler was dead the whole time!" or "it turns out Nomica was the one who bombed the building and sabotaged the train!" or how about "it turns out Jonny realized that his friends were a bunch of annoying retards and so he dawned a predator mask and tore out their skulls and spines!"

In other news, school has been putting me in a clinically bad mood.
I will get you you will pay I hope you know. I am a vampire to you. I will sneak up to you. I am bad bad bad

how to get and stay famous.

Yesterday Joel, Alexio and I attended a multi-cultural free food extravaganza on the OSU campus. The day included eating free tamales, drinking free soda, Alexio playing air guitar on an empty stage, eating more free tamales, crude remarks by all, drinking more free soda, and Alexio entering a bush with his face.

I had an idea for getting famous, inspired by William Hung. Apparently the American recording industry has enough money lying around that they can take some talentless kid and give him a couple thousand dollars to perpetuate his reputation as a national idiot. I know plenty people who actually do have talent who could use that record deal, but I guess they're not as ethnic and easy to ridicule. So here's my new plan: I will go to the next American Idol auditions and sing "Kiss" by Prince through a kazoo while wearing a vintage baseball uniform. I'll have to make them think that I am completely serious about my talents, so I will act really confident and then genuinely confused when the English guy, the fat guy, and the has-been pop star tell me that I suck. Then, to ensure that my failure video will be shown again and again, I will do something completely outrageous like releasing a live hamster and chasing it around the studio with a mallet. Then I'll tell the English guy to change his shirt and get escorted off the premises by security. 3 months later, I will be a star.

jabs at casual homoeroticism, for the sake of journalism.

Today in the forum section of The Barometer there was a drawing of two young men playing frisbee, with one saying "I just had an idea for improving frisbee! Let's take our shirts off!"

The cartoon was drawn by me, as I am now officially a cartoonist for the newspaper. I just went in for a little informal interview yesterday (I submitted a handful of cartoons a week ago), so I was happy to see them using me so soon. I'm $10 richer for every 'work' published, and if the other cartoonists submit crap, I may get published more than once a week. Kaloo kalay!

Now I must go study in vain for a History midterm tomorrow.

"There's a robot there."

That's something I said about a year ago in reference to a barbeque on my neighbor's doorstep. I have the quote on video. It always sounded so awkward.

Everybody go to my music site! Cody has put the new pages up and they match my vision perfectly! He gets a gold star. I still need to upload a new song on the Caws Pobi page, but today my internet did not work AT ALL. Something must be done. Yes indeedee. Related story, Caws is playing with the blues. He is not a blues musician, which makes it all the more fun. A happy blipping blues album would make the babies smile!!

the passion of the clay.

I had a dream that everyone was pressuring me to see The Passion of the Christ. I didn't want to see it because watching extreme violence in a movie theater makes me feel faint, but eventually I ended up in a theater watching the thing. I was surprised to find out that the movie was entirely clay animation, with most of the movie consisting of a clay Jesus, already crucified, being paraded through town on a float while he sprayed clay blood onto the crowd. After seeing the movie I realized that the only reason people were upset over the violence was because it involved Jesus.

I don't know what provoked this dream, as I have not seen The Passion nor have I talked or heard about it lately. My weekend was not about bloody clay Jesuses at all; I went home and practiced/recorded with the (remaining) band, and yesterday we had a barbeque and went to river park. The weather seems to be getting nice, which leads to hot, which will not be nice after a few weeks.

The ice-cream-bike-woman just rode by outside. I wrote before about how adding a megaphone to the bike only made her sound like a jerk, but you know what she's got now? A percussion track on the ice cream music. Now the ice cream tune sounds like it was produced by P.Diddy. I figure next she'll add some hydrolics and make the bike hop.


The Jesus in my dream wasn't doing the splits.

picture book reading rainbow.

"Change for a dollar? Change? Change for the blind?"
I was just thinking of the confused Yoda quote yetserday, and it was making me laugh.

I recently looked at some cool books. First, there is the one I found late last night here at the Valley Library entitled America's Forgotten Folk Arts. It's basically all about the sometimes wierd, sometimes garish, sometimes creepy but always cool folky style of the early 20th century. Think old carousels and hommade toys and clowns with pointy hats and pointy chins and pointy noses.

The other book I found, in the OSU bookstore, was Fashion Illustration Now. I don't care what anyone says, the artists in this book are some of the best in the world today. And wouldn't you know, I can't remember the names of any of my favorites right now, except Kiraz, because he did the artwork for a Fantastic Plastic Machine album.

If you like cool pictures and art things, you should read these buks. *ba-dam bamp!*


Look out, Joes! A Carousel-Viper!

we'll have ourselves a knife fight.

First off, I finally saw Kill Bill Vol. 1, and I urge you all to see it if you haven't. It's good to know that movies like that can be made, and so well. Also, after viewing it we were lucky enough to catch Beyond the Valley of the Dolls on IFC, a film written by Russ Meyer and Roger Ebert. Ha. Ha ha. You have to see it to get the joke.

I hope you all enjoy the Sesame Street/Wu-Tang solution. In case you're wondering, Andy (Captain A) gave me a CD of Sesame Street songs to listen to and play with. I don't know which I will manipulate next, maybe one with Johnny Cash. I've been meaning to do more Caws Pobi stuff, but I've been busy with this damn school. FYI, I hate my Japanese class, and the fact that I keep missing it because of illness or forgetting to turn on my alarm (this morning) doesn't help. Actually, Caws has been working on an interpretation of a song by a local Corvallis musician. I will post it as soon as I have time.

no ideas today.


America the beautiful...

Sesame Street was all about the ghetto.

Sesame Street vs. The Wu-Tang Clan - 8 Pinky Rings
available for download

This Spring's hottest single.

the poem.

Here at Oregon State there is a "student art and literary magazine" called Prism which comes out every term. Needless to say, it isn't very impressive. It is about 80% poetry, because writing poems is cheap and for some reason there is apparently no standard for bad poetry. The rest of the thing is usually photography, with subjects ranging from nature to children to old people to...nature again. Most of the photos are black and white because a color photograph must not count as "art".
As I was wading through the pretentious, awkwardly sexual poetry in last term's Winter issue, I noticed that a couple poets kept popping up again and again. This led me to think "I guess they don't get many submissions." This further led me to think "maybe I should submit something. If they put in five works by this girl, they can put in one work by me."
Seeing as how the Prism peeps loved poetry so much, I decided to play their game and write a poem. My friend pointed out that pretty much every poem in the magazine was about sex, and she was quite right. Page after page of waking up next to someone and admiring their eyes and then feeling their heat from the inside out and oh my god I don't want to know any more. So my poem had to be fresh. None of this sexual symbolism or personal catharsis; my poem had to be whimsical and colorful, a parade of words. The only way to intrigue people these days is to first confuse them, so goes my theory on bad art (which I will discuss on a later date). Somewhat inspired by the speech of disorganized schizophrenics, which I was learning about in abnormal psychology, I wrote my poem and submitted it to Prism to be used in their Fall issue. A few days later they emailed me a rejection. Here is the poem:

Generous, pt. II: the Streams of Formalism

Georgie old boy, hand me the summit
Of Artemis.
Cheeky and flat, radiates feeling that
Solely resides in a crumb.

High above anything bubbly
Here comes the hot rod to sing
"We'll be making our way past the bronze doors,
We'll be making our way without guilt."
Fools
I'll still be drinking my lemonade roller blade scotch.
When the time comes, and the lights go down
Ear-shear party with Bosch!

Later at the bridge she'll drink a Coke
And recite twenty lines of poetry
While he wishes she was stupider.
All of his friends wear space helmets
And we fish down at the streams
And we wade in formal waters
And we sell our vulgarities.

Diamond gardens enjoy fledgling pink trumpets,
A peanut knife hidden in a box of salt.

Let the kids abuse themselves
Let the kids amuse themselves
Let the kids cast off the wet sugar ropes
That you got from your forefathers' attic.
Because when we get crazy we like to be pretty
When we get pretty we wind up in gutters...

...Until we wake up in Tokyo land,
and we wait for the fuzzy plastic beast to
take us back to Laforet in his warm arms.

I can't say I am disappointed. Hell, looking back I can't believe that I actually thought they would accept it. But it is a bit of a shame.

(by the way: Laforet)

reinvention!

Jesus Christ!! What the hell happened to my eblo?? It's all different! This goddamn... Or no, wait. I did it. That's right.

I don't drive.

In America, is that supposed to mean I am inferior? I've already learned that people only trust your age in this country if you can drive ("valid ID"). Do people think I am less of a human because I don't operate a motor vehicle? Discuss.

best blog post ever.

Good morning kids. Today I went to the good ol' Google image search and typed in "best picture ever". What came up was a whole slew of 'best ever' pictures, and here I present to you the best of the best:

best picture ever

(runner-up) best picture ever

best nipples ever (some Russian poster)

best mailbox ever

best sign ever

best graffiti ever

he's gonna smash that head!

Today I found this great little Chris Ware animation on the web. Chris Ware is a damn good comic book artist. I'd like him to design album covers for me someday.

everybody draw!

So yesterday I was in a drawing class for about 15 minutes. I was hoping I would be able to squeeze into the already full class, but when the instructor came in she gave some little spiel about how she can only teach 20 kids and the class had 23 and for some reason there was 26 in the room. So when she went to make some copies I snuck out.

I haven't taken a drawing class in a long time. Hell, I haven't taken a hands-on art class in a long time, not since high school. Frankly, drawing is the only art class I have interest in taking anymore, because drawing is awesome. Painting is highly overrated, and design has become a computer-dominated market. The best designer in the world today? Photoshop!

"Art classes bored me with such projects as making linoleum cuts or doing watercolors of flowers. What I really wanted to do was draw." -Charles Schulz

And Mr. Schulz was right. Art classes suck. Fortunately for him, in his day they offered illustration classes in high school, a concept which probably would have put me in my rightful place if it still existed today. But alas, in high school drawing classes they just have you do a bunch of still lifes. 'Draw this watering can, then draw the person next to you, then draw something else with dynamic shading. Maybe then you'll be ready to start painting, or better yet, take a shop class so you can get a real job someday.'

A lot of you people know I like to draw cartoons, but let me introduce you to some of my favorite cartoonists working today:

Bruce Eric Kaplan - He draws cartoons for The New Yorker, and he's also a co-producer of the show Six Feet Under. Before that, he was a writer for Seinfeld. I like his cartoons because not only are they clever, but the art itself is interesting. He likes to have a lot of negative space. Plus, he still does cartoons by hand, which is great.

David Rees - To my understanding he contributes cartoons to Rolling Stone, but I know him because of his books and his website. When I discovered his book My New Fighting Technique is Unstoppable at the OSU bookstore I felt like telling everybody there to buy it. It does bother me that a lot of cartoonists these days just use computers, but Rees and a few others, which are also on this list, are really making great stuff. Oh yeah; this guy has a new book. Check it out.

Friend Bear! - I don't know the name of the guy, but he makes the best web-cartoons around. And the site is so addicting thanks to the random cartoon button.

Max Cannon - Red Meat is a great comic. That's all I have to say.

Then there are all my old favorites, like Schulz and Thurber and Watterson and Larson and Barsotti. Wait, Larson still makes cartoons, doesn't he? Anyway...

In a related story, I am going to submit some of my stuff to the OSU's newspaper The Barometer. We'll see if they get the joke.

"Don't you lay a bullet on those martians."

Classes and such begin again. That's all I will say about that.

Yesterday was a good day, full of things. Captain A and the Sounds of B took some fantastic pictures for a website that y'all may be seeing soon. Then myself and the Andy made a movie about martians and Snake Eyeses, and a short feature about what the moon astronauts will do all day (featuring me in a helmet).

And last night I saw Liars at the WOW Hall, a band which became one of my very favorites when I saw them perform two years ago. Since then they have lost their bassist and replaced their drummer, and actually sound quite different, but not in a bad way. They're still just a group of guys making great noisy noise. I was also pleased to read that their new album is a concept album about witch folklore, and I love concept albums. I was further pleased to read that lead singer Angus was somewhat inspired by the sounds of Matmos, an electronic group I enjoy, while he was hanging around on the Bjork tour. And I was even further pleased by this quote from Angus about the band's evolution: "It's not like the next record is going to be scary and weird...We could easily make a Japanese pop record next time." I love how everything in my music world ties together so well.
After last night's show I shook Angus's hand and then talked about the city of Eugene with Aaron the guitarist, Chad, some guy in a grey sweatshirt, and a guy who called himself "black unicorn". Yes, we all laughed at him.

"It's called master exploder!"

I finally managed to upload Noah was a Trackstar on my music page. My computer's connection capabilities still SUCK, and I still have no idea why, but I did that. Actually, I had a whole post written today about ice cream bike vendors with megaphones, but when I went to post it - gasp! - my connection up and died. AGAIN. So that post is gone forever.

In other news, I saw School of Rock over the weekend. If you haven't seen it, I recommend renting the Digital Video Disc. If you do that, I further recommend watching the bonus video diary of Jack Black, as well as his plead to Led Zeppelin. Good stuff, that.

finals over.

I thought I'd write about eye-glasses today, and how I love them. I do not wear any kind of prescription glasses, but I've always wanted at least a pair of reading glasses that I could put on every now and then when I wanted to change my look.

Why do I love glasses? I don't know. I guess because they carry so much background. They can be interpreted so many ways, and leave so many different impressions. A pair of glasses can completely alter how someone looks, and change how others percieve them. Just look at Superman - he puts on a pair of glasses and immediately he transforms from a dashing, extroverted hero into a sensitive, introverted businessman.

Glasses have as much subconscious image power as a cigarette, but most would assume that the two have the opposite effect. So what happens when you mix the two seemingly polar symbols? You get the "Luke Wardlaw", a style that is soft-spoken and intelligent yet sharp and rebellious. I recall the image of Max Fischer from Rushmore when he becomes depressed and isolated. His glasses retain the nerdy, attempted-overachiever look, but that look is bent by the cigarette into the image of a nerdy, attempted over-achiever who has been slugged by life.

But I'm not promoting cigarettes here. I'm promoting the glasses. Part of what makes them great is that you can mix them with different fashions and styles and create something new. Take Elvis Costello: put glasses on punk and you get new wave (or use goggles if you're Mark Mothersbaugh). Tom Cruise wore those stylish frames in the first Mission Impossible, and they somehow made him more of a badass. Just imagine, readers at home, putting glasses on a cowboy, or a commando, or a spaceman, or a boxer...which may be a tad unrealistic, but it's still interesting!

Glasses were integral to Elton John's early rock persona, and apparently he actually became nearsighted as a result of wearing his reading glasses too often. I read that he started wearing glasses because he wanted to be like Buddy Holly, whose trademark was his specs and who once told his mother "If people are going to like me, they’re going to have to like me with my glasses on."

Girls look great in glasses. A pair of glasses can give a beautiful girl a sense of modesty, and a charm that comes from a sense of hidden beauty (which isn't really hidden at all- it's just the slight extra prominence given to the girl's eyes). Two of the girls I've dated have worn glasses; another one had a pair of reading glasses, and I literally did a backflip when I found out, but she refused to wear them. When will modern women learn to reject the standards of beauty and love their glasses? I do!

Maybe this post has given those of you who wear glasses a little self-esteem boost, and good for that. As for standard news, my finals are finished and my spring break has officially begun. Not that I have any spans. ...That is a genuine misspelling of 'plans'. .... ..I have nothing more to say.

computers are the worst way to access the internet.

Captain A and the Sounds of B have a new supplemental song that we recorded over the weekend, but I cannot upload it because my modem has become quite catatonic. I didn't know it was possible for modems to simply get old and stop working properly, but that seems to be the problem; if it were something else, I'm SURE my user-friendly PC would let me know, right? Right???

Anyway, as soon as (if) I get it uploaded I will post word.

finals continue.

"Let's go get some tacos."

Last night I watched The Doors with Jose. I doubt the movie would have been anything if Oliver stone hadn't been behind it. Because only Oliver Stone could do that desert sequence, and that desert sequence makes the movie. "Ride the snake."

The weather is nice. Guys wearing flip flops break out the frisbees on the library lawn and see how close they can come to wacking some passerby (me) in the face with them. Yetsreday...yes, yetsreday I saw a couple guys playing a paddle-ball game. Each guy had a big wooden paddle, and they smacked a rubber ball back and forth. You can't get much simpler than that.

Sorry I haven't put up any music for a while. I've been busy with this damn thing called school, and I haven't been having a lot of grand ideas lately. Once I create something that I feel is "single" material, I'll put it up for your consumption.

"the camel that stroke the baw's rack."

That title is something I said today in an attempt to say "straw that broke the camel's back." I corrected myself by saying "I mean the camel that broke the straw's back." I was still laughing after everyone else had stopped.

Finals approach. Some are already here. Tomorrow I have my Japanese oral final, and I think my body has been conditioned to react in a negative way for the 48 hours surrounding the 5-minute conversation. And people wonder why my hair is thinning.

I am thinking of creating a children's book, something about a knight and a dragon and Jesus. Then I'll publish it and get a Caldecott medal. I love children's books, especially ones written by children. I think I talked about this before. But yes, that whole area is my main source inspiration.
Speaking of inspiration, there was a great art exhibit at OSU's Fairbanks hall this past month. I just caught its last day yesterday; Kay French had a series entitled "the plants of paradise", and it was a bunch of field drawings of plants and insects with random lists of numbers, symbols and stamps stuck on the canvases, which were painted in soft blue, brown and green color fields. The artist had written about how it was all inspired by early 20th-century field manuals, and that she was attempting to find the aesthetic of some ideal, utopian garden. I just thought it was a great combination of technical, commercial and fine art. I think technical art, diagrams and graphs and such, has a lot of potential in the fine art world, and it was good to see an artist play with that idea. Unfortunately I couldn't find anything about Kay French on the web, but I did find this:


Mars missions can wait.