frolic or perish

Facebook: Friend or Foe?

2010-06-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Recently, I attended a dinner party where a couple of friends were discussing the possible pros and cons of taking a break from Facebook. This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered this conversation in recent months. In fact, it seems to be downright de rigur these days in Internet savvy circles. The bottom-line is invariably this: while a wonderful tool for sharing stories and insights, staying in touch with friends and family who live far away, and reconnecting with people from one’s past, ultimately Facebook only serves to drive us further apart. Instead of getting together for a night of board games with friends, we play online Scrabble with strangers. Instead of making calls to family members to discuss important life events, we just take the lazy route and post the news as a status update.

I know all of this to be true, and yet I admit that I’ve often scoffed at the idea of a Facebook break. Oh come on, I’ve said, don’t you think the benefits outweigh the drawbacks? Don’t you find that if you really want to see or talk to someone, you still make an effort to do so? I never understood why someone who enjoyed what Facebook has to offer would want to take a break. Lately, though, my position has started to shift. I’ve begun to feel that Facebook might be doing me more harm than good. Here are three recurring scenarios that have made me think twice about the ubersite’s impact on my life:

Wow, I’ve got something really interesting to share! In other news, no one cares.

Countless times I’ve turned to Facebook to post a link to an article that I found interesting, a YouTube video that had me in stitches, or an idea that I wanted to discuss with my peers, only to be met with the virtual-world equivalent of crickets chirping. Hey, I’ve told myself, no big, it happens. But when it happens too many times in a row I’ve started to question myself. Maybe that link wasn’t so interesting, or maybe I’m late to the game and it was already posted by someone savvier weeks ago. Or—oh god—maybe everyone’s hidden me and no one has the heart to tell me. The inherent suckiness of this is made all the more acute by the fact that other people can post that they just sneezed, and receive twenty responses saying, “Wow, you rock! That’s so awesome!” I wish I could be more blasé about it or laugh it off, like a friend of mine who once posted a comment, received no response, and then reposted the comment prefaced by “I SAID…” But lately, it’s not so easy. It stings, and worse, at times makes me wonder if perhaps my friends and I don’t have as much in common as I thought we did.

Check out pictures of this amazing event you weren’t invited to!

Say I’ve recently invited a favorite couple to dinner and been told they’re too busy to socialize at the moment. Or perhaps I’ve repeatedly emailed a friend about hanging out and never received a reply. Then one morning I log on to Facebook and am bombarded with a whole gallery of photos posted by that couple or friend, replete with all of my besties hugging each other, holding drinks, and celebrating some seemingly landmark life event. The captions inevitably say, “Last night was epic, how will we ever top it?!” Or, “You’re the best friends a guy could ever hope for!” Ouch. I can’t help but wonder why I didn’t make the cut.

The funny thing is, in real life it’s likely that I never would’ve heard of this event I wasn’t invited to, and would thus have been spared the indignation and hurt feelings. I’m starting to think it works this way for a reason. Because of course I realize that my friends are allowed to have dinners and parties and BBQs that don’t include me. We have different levels of friendship with everyone we know, and it’s inevitable – and understandable – that I might be invited to a casual friend’s big birthday bash but not her small impromptu Sunday brunch. I know that my friends, family, and acquaintances aren’t out to show me up or hurt my feelings. They’re just posting about what’s going on in their lives. But maybe it’s all a little too much information. Maybe we don’t need to know—aren’t supposed to know—a lot of things that our fellow Facebookers tell us.

Man, I never realized until now that everyone’s life is more fabulous than mine.

Maybe one morning I wake up feeling pretty good about things, despite the endless rain, my sore back, that job I never heard back about. But hey, I’m in a great relationship, I love where I live, my dogs are awesome. Life ain’t so bad. I log on to Facebook and am immediately greeted by photos of a coworker’s recent safari in Africa, or I read a status update about how my friend’s fabulous new husband just took her to dinner at French Laundry, or I learn that a not-terribly-ambitious acquaintance just landed her dream job. Well gee, I felt okay about my life before I went online, but now I see that my existence is entirely pedestrian and fruitless.

Perhaps the hardest part of all this is realizing that it works both ways. If I’ve felt hurt or slighted by others’ Facebook updates, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’ve inflicted some of these experiences on my friends without even thinking.

I was discussing all of this with a friend recently, who made the very salient point that spending a lot of time on Facebook is like reliving high school, a place where we spent five days a week, nine months out of the year interacting with the same group of people. We formed cliques, we joined groups, we made our political affiliations known. We spent so much time together that we all knew way too much about each other. This inevitably led to gossip, fights, allegiances that were quickly formed and just as quickly broken. The popular people got all the attention, regardless of how smart or interesting they actually were, and the geeks and nerds and dorks – the ones with eccentric interests and tastes – got ignored, or worse, openly mocked. When we moved on to college or jobs, all of that changed. We got out into the world and realized that what one relatively small group of people thought or did wasn’t the entire scope of our existence, and we were so thankful that high school was over. But some days, Facebook can make you feel like you never left.

Brando

2007-06-05T11:04:00.001-07:00

If you have Comcast On Demand and three or so hours to kill, check out the TCM documentary about Marlon Brando. Even if you're not a Brando fan - or even a big film buff - I can practically guarantee you'll be fascinated.

Brando was a guy who gave so much to life, and to his craft, that by the time he reached his later years he had all but emptied himself out. And yet, he never stopped being Brando - iconoclastic, mercurial and larger-than-life. Seriously, check it out.

Camera No Longer Obscura

2007-01-23T16:10:00.000-08:00

I finally got a USB cable for my digital camera, which means I am now able to take blurry, off center photos of stupid shit that only I find amuzing and post them here!

Y'know, like this one.

Aaron Sorkin Is a Tool

2007-01-17T15:54:00.000-08:00

I've never watched Studio 60, and now I'm really, really glad. Hey Aaron, how're you liking those sour grapes?

Ohmigod shoes

2007-01-03T11:20:00.000-08:00

These shoes rule. These shoes suck!

Wired's Very Short Stories

2006-10-24T14:26:00.000-07:00

Apparently inspired by a 6-word short story penned by Ernest Hemingway ("For sale: baby shoes, never worn."), Wired Magazine asked a bunch of writers to submit their own 6-word masterpieces. Some of the results are brilliant, others hilarious. Here's a sampling:

From torched skyscrapers, men grew wings.
- Gregory Maguire

Gown Removed Carelessly. Head, less so.
- Joss Whedon

Longed for him. Got him. Shit.
- Margaret Atwood

Wasted Day. Wasted life. Dessert, please.
- Steven Meretzky

It’s behind you! Hurry before it
- Rockne S. O’Bannon

Kirby had never eaten toes before.
- Kevin Smith

TIME MACHINE REACHES FUTURE!!! … nobody there …
- Harry Harrison

Bush told the truth. Hell froze.
- William Gibson

Dinosaurs return. Want their oil back.
- David Brin

Will this do (lazy writer asked)?
- Ken Macloed

Cryonics: Disney thawed. Mickey gnawed. Omigawd.
- Eileen Gunn

Bring On the Horror Flicks!

2006-10-16T15:14:00.000-07:00

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. I love everything about it -- the change of seasons, the sudden crispness of the air, the pumpkin carving, the creative jack ‘o’ lanterns, the scary movies, the limited edition goodies like little candy corn-flavored pumpkins...I could go on. It's just a rockin' good time.

When I was a kid, I loved to go trick or treating. As a teenager it was all about the costume parties and haunted houses. Now I just love to sit around and watch horror films and all those retrospectives like "The Top 100 Scariest Movie Moments." I don’t always love not being able to sleep after a night of bingeing on horror, but overall it’s worth it. Come to think of it, that’s part of the fun.

It’s only mid-October but already some good stuff is starting to pop up on cable, and last night I stumbled across one of my very favorite Dracula flicks -- the 1979 John Badham version starring Frank Langella and Laurence Olivier (!). Now granted, this is not a film for Dracula purists. It's not faithful to the book, the names of the two heroines are switched (god knows why), and Dracula is repurposed from a hideous blood-sucking fiend to a romantic hero of Byronic proportions. Still, the movie really works. Maybe it's the creepy 70s film stock where everything looks really washed out, but damned if the movie doesn't look like it was really filmed in the Victorian era. The score was composed by John Williams (y'know, the Star Wars Theme guy), and it's arguably one of his best -- super dramatic and vampy and over-the-top. Also, the cast is pretty damned inspired. Olivier is the perfect Van Helsing – sad, weary, yet determined. Kate Nelligan is great as the beautiful, headstrong, progressive Lucy that Dracula falls for. Donald Pleasance is excellent as the obligatory man of science and Lucy’s skeptical father. Tony Haygarth is one of the creepiest, bug-eatingest Renfields I’ve ever seen. And, as long as you can get past the disco-era blow-dried hair, Langella is absolutely arresting as Dracula. He’s arrogance, lust and pathos all rolled into one.

Sure the movie is bursting with fromage, especially the “visual effects,” (screeching bat puppets on a wire? Check.) but this is a vampire movie made in the 70s, people! The cheese is part of the charm. If you’ve got cable On Demand, check it out.

Tonight, I’m moving on to “Scream.” Boo!

Maui? Wowee.

2006-09-15T15:52:00.000-07:00

Just returned for a 5-day sojourn on the lovely island of Maui, and I have to say it definitely rates as one of my BEST.TRIPS.EVER.

Despite the fact that I'm still jet-lagged and also seem to have contracted a raging case of tanorexia while abroad (If one more coworker says, "Where'd you get that tan!?" I'm running to the dermatologist), the Aloha Spirit is still coursing through my mai tai-drenched veins.

Last year we went to Kauai, which, while wild and jungly and beautiful, wasn't really the sun, surf and sandy beaches I had envisioned. Maui, however, fit the bill perfectly. It also didn't hurt that we lucked out and got upgraded to a much pricier condo than we could have afforded -- it was the off season and I think our resort had rooms to spare. In fact, the "room" (really more of a condo which included a deck and kitchen) was so nice that we didn't feel much of a need to go out and spend a lot of money at night. We mostly just hung out, pet the feral kitty who suckered us into daily helpings of fresh fish, listened to music, and watched a bunch of YouTube videos (oh yeah, we're that dorky).

I've had some requests for highlights, so here they are, in pretty much random order:

- Snorkeling off the coast of Molokini and seeing a bunch of sea turtles, including one that came up for a breath about 2 feet away from us
- A condo on the beach
- mai tais and lava flows
- sleeping late on the king sized bed
- swimming, swimming, swimming
- the weather - it was perfect
- the beaches - it was like the Hawaii you imagine as a kid

...And a couple of lowlights:
- The fuckin' road to Hana. Half the waterfalls didn't have any water and I felt sick for hours on the windy road.
- Hana itself - what a sad, bedraggled little town. I had the lamest veggie "sandwich" I'd ever had in my life, which consisted of a hamburger bun, half a slice of cheese and some mustard. I wish I'd taken a picture.

I Heart "I Heart Huckabees"

2006-08-16T10:26:00.000-07:00

(*spoilers below*)

Albert Markovski: I'm talking about not covering every square inch with houses and strip malls until you can't remember what happens when you stand in a meadow at dusk.

Bret: What happens in the meadow at dusk?

Albert Markovski: Everything.

Mrs. Hooten: Nothing.

Albert Markovski: Everything.

Mrs. Hooten: Nothing.

Albert Markovski: It's beautiful.

Tommy Corn: It's beautiful.

This movie came out in 2004, and I can't believe I've only now discovered it. That's what I get for relying too much on critics.

It's by no means a perfect movie, this little existential gem. In fact, I recently described it to someone as a lovely but manic mess. The main characters' motivations are a bit unfocused at times, and one narrative thread in particular just sort of unravels into nothingness (which may or may not have been the point). Not perfect, no. But very sweet and loony, very genuine and memorable.

It's funny to me that some people found this film overly philosophical or hard to follow. True, it's somewhat chaotic, but the underlying story is really quite simple. On the one hand we have the Jaffes - our existential detectives - and their happy, sunny philosophy. Just crawl under this blanket and recognize yourself in the infinite and everything will be all right, because everything is connected.("When you get the blanket thing, you can relax, because everything you could ever want or be, you already have and are.")

On the other hand we have Caterine and her dour, fatalistic, very French nihilism. Nothing matters, nothing is connected, life is pain and darkness and suffering. ("Sadness is what you are, do not deny it. The universe is a lonely place, a painful place. This is what we can share between us, period.").

And then we have Albert the depressed environmentalist ("What am I doing? What am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing.") and Tommy the disillusioned firefighter ("I'm not a hero. We'd all be heroes if we quit using petroleum, though."), who are caught between the two extremes and just trying to figure it all out. There's really nothing particularly heavy here. Just some very funny, sharp dialogue, physical humor, and fantastic performances. David O. Russell really knows how to tap into the absurdity of life without his films feeling overly pleased with themselves (I'm lookin' at you, Wes Anderson).

What I love most about this movie is the idea that someone you have nothing in common with, someone you may even hate, can become knowable to you if you find that the two of you share a common experience. I love the idea that you can suddenly see yourself in that person -- even become that person, the moment you are able to glimpse their humanity. And so Albert sees his nemises, shallow, golden boy Brad Stand who secretly fears he has no real identity outside of his corporate image ("How am I not myself? How am I not myself? How am I not myself?")in one moment of suffering, and he instantly relates to him. After all of his searching and confusion and angst, that connection takes Albert out of himself and allows him to see the bigger picture. And, at least for a moment, everything is all right.

Too Beautiful for Me?

2006-07-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

Just a little 'ole list of some famous people whose purported beauty/hunkiness I just flat out don't get. Either I'm seriously out of step with modern notions of beauty, or these folks just pay their publicists really, really well. To wit:

Jessica Alba - Often touted as one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood. Wha-huh? Looks like a tanorexic soccer mom in training.

Jessica Simpson - I'll quote my sister's Brazilian friend Fernanda, who succintly described her brother's girlfriend thusly: "Too stupid. Too Barbie."

Keira Knightly - For god's sake, woman, EAT SOMETHING. I know it's a cliche at this point to talk about the weight of women in Hollywood, but I can't look at her without gasping. You know why her cheekbones look like that? Malnourishment.

Cameron Diaz - Needs a healthy cycle of Proactiv.

Tom Cruise - Short, phony smile, ugly.

Usher - Looks like a homely little kid playing dress up.

Anyone else? I mean, other than everyone else.

Temporary Template

2006-07-18T14:22:00.000-07:00

I just couldn't subject you to my "handmade" (i.e., hideous) template anymore, so I'm using this one as a placeholder.

It's actually surprisingly hard for a non-techie type to create a template on one's own. There are plenty of sites that offer blog skins designed by novices, but half the time there's some design glitch that turns all your images upside down, or you lose posts while trying to apply it, or the template only works when your writing in Sanskrit.

This Blogger template is nice enough, but I'd rather have something unique (According to Roger, that's pronounced "yoo-knee-cue"). Anyone wanna design me purty a template? I'll take you out for drinks or edit your grad school essay or dance at your daughter's wedding, or..or..or...

My Hero

2006-06-30T11:53:00.000-07:00

What's that you say? Oh, heavens no. I have really bad allergies, all those pollens, and...and molds, they make my eyes water. Also, I had something in my eye earlier so it got a little red and irritated. I'm fine, really. Do you have a Kleenex?

Joss Whedon's Equality Now Speech

Depressing.

2006-06-28T15:08:00.000-07:00

List of Republican Celebrities

Dear Comcast DVR: I Hate You.

2006-06-21T12:52:00.000-07:00

When Roger and I moved into our new place earlier this year, we were dismayed to discover that our Tivo had to go. As our apartment resides in a very old building with no phone jack in the living room, Tivo was no longer a viable option. We signed up for Comcast Cable's DVR, which we heard was capable of recording two programs at the same time (a wonderous feat even Tivo couldn't yet perform). We felt pangs when we installed our DVR, as it wasn't nearly as cute or user-friendly as our dear departed T, but we thought it might wind up being an adequate -- maybe even superior -- replacement.

Boy were we wrong. The Comcast DVR, or "Commy," as some call it, is one hot mess.

Commy, here are just a few of the reasons why we hate you:

You're dumb. Even when we program you to record a particular show, you often just forget to do it. It's not that the show isn't high enough in our queue of series recordings; at times it's the number one show. You're just dumb and you forget. So thanks for that.

You're slow. I admit I like to pause a lot during programs. I need to pee, or get some water, or harass the dog, or some such other normal human activity. You don't seem to like this. I'll push "pause" and you won't pause. I'll press "pause" again - still nothing. So then, out of mounting frustration, I randomly start mashing multiple buttons, hoping something will wake you from your stupor. Suddenly, you'll realize you've been sitting on your flat ass, not doing your damn job, and decide to comply with my requests all at once. Pause! Pause! Stop! Play! Exit! Last! Guide! Menu! Delete! DELETE! Mayhem ensues. You're whirring frantically. Aborted commands flash across the screen willy-nilly. Maybe you're contributing to global warming. The debacle usually ends with the deletion of some saved program I was really looking forward to. Fun!

You're a hypochondriac Twice last week you shut off in the middle of a show. No warning - just kaput. I think you were overheating as it was a really hot day, but Tivo survived many a scorcher last summer with nary a complaint. So I missed the last 5 minutes of two shows I was really into, and now I'll never know how they turned out. We actually had to put a mini-fan on top of you to keep you from overheating, which works, but is patently ridiculous. So yeah. Thanks, ComCrash.

You're high maintenance. Every time one of the above problems occurs, the good people at Comcast advise us to unplug and replug you so you can reset your delicate little self. We are advised to leave you alone for 30 seconds so you can unwind.("Walk away, take your shoes off, get a drink of water" was the advice of one perky service gal). Apparently you need to "unplug" and have some quiet time in order to function properly. Who do you think you are, Scarlett O'Hara? Get over yourself.

I hate you, Commy, but right now you're our only option. I think this is one of the most dysfunctional relationships I've ever had. Are you some sort of karmic retribution for our rampant technological consumerism, or just a really sucky, poorly designed product that was rushed to market way too quickly? I'm thinkin' both.

Brazil nut

2006-06-12T09:29:00.000-07:00

Last Monday I returned from a one week trip to Brazil, where my family and I went to visit my sister Jessica. Jess is doing a junior-year-abroad type program and is studying Portuguese in a big, smelly, urban sprall of a city called Belo Horizonte. My sister says that if Rio is like L.A., and Sao Paulo is like New York, then Belo Horizonte is like Pittsburgh. Yes, I visited the Brazilian Pittsburgh. Still, it was an amazing trip. Outdoor markets, sidewalk bars, fantastic food, oh yeah. We also spent a couple of days in a beautiful hillside mountain town called Ouro Preto, which more than made up for the relative fug-factor of B.H.

Here's me in Congonhas, on the way to Ouro Preto.

Jess and mom in O.P.

Panning for gold at an abandoned mine

Best. billboard. ever.

Can You Hear Me Know?

2006-05-04T15:30:00.000-07:00

Apparently Verizon is making a play for that elusive telepathy market now. At any rate, I'm so not buying a phone here.

I suck!

2006-05-02T15:09:00.000-07:00

See, I knew this would happen. I knew if I started a blog that at first I'd be all into it and put up a whole bunch of posts one after the other, but then eventually I'd get lazy and more and more time would elapse between posts, and ultimately my blog would be like one of those lameass personal homepages from the late 90s that had a little stick figure in a construction hat cheerily digging beneath the words "Under Construction, Please Check Back!", except you'd check back, like, 6 months later and the exact same image would be there.

So, here endeth my lameness (at least for now). Please don't hit me. I didn't mean to make you angry. You still love me, right? Right?

The LookSmartest Guys in the Room

2006-03-03T10:31:00.000-08:00

A couple of nights ago the Rog and I watched the documentary “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room.” It was an excellent film—sort of a period piece (is it okay to refer to the Internet boom of the 90s as a “period” yet?), a morality tale, and a psychological study all rolled into one.

Some might find this a little far fetched, but I couldn’t help but be reminded of my 5 ½ year stint at LookSmart, my first and possibly last foray into the World ‘O Web. No, LookSmart didn’t swindle thousands of people out of millions of dollars, or cause utterly unnecessary power outtages in California, or stash unfathomable debt in mock corporations while its stock price went up and up and up—I’m definitely stretching a metaphor here. But there are some similarities. For example:

• Both Enron’s and LookSmart’s top executives were charismatic, visionary and idealistic. They sold their employees a bill of goods without a sustainable business model, and everyone drank the Kool-Aid.
• Employees at both companies became obsessed with the rising stock price and the possibility of becoming rich. (At LookSmart, we were routinely told by managers that we’d all be able to buy houses soon).
• At both companies, the promise of untold riches ultimately served to corrupt the young workforce. Greed, arrogance and outlandish behavior became the order of the day. Social Darwinism thrived.
• Both companies ultimately imploded under the weight of their bloated excesses. (Technically LookSmart is still around, but it’s barely breathing.) Massive layoffs ensued and a lot of people are still in serious debt.
• A handful of former executives of both companies managed to sell their massive shares before the stock made a precipitous nosedive, and then simply disappeared. (I’m looking at you G$$). I’m convinced there’s some unmapped tropical island where thousands of top dog refugees from failed Internet companies are sunning themselves decadently while succumbing to the last stages of cirrhosis of the liver.

I could go on, but I think you get the picture. Now, that’s not to say that there wasn’t a lot of good that came from the LookSmart experience. I, for one, learned a lot, grew up a lot, had a shitload of fun, and met some truly amazing people, several of whom are now some of my dearest friends. But man oh man am I glad it’s over. For a lot of those poor, former Enron employees and their families (I’m not referring to the worst of the day traders here—they can rot in hell), it’ll never really be over. The company simply ruined their lives.

So rejoice, former LookSmartians! We escaped, and we live to tell the tale.

Best. List. Ever.

2006-01-25T12:47:00.000-08:00

So much copious word to this:

The BEAST 50 Most Loathsome People in America, 2005

Some choice tidbits:

On Tom Cruise: "Cruise is a perfect example of a person who is simultaneously in love with and completely unfamiliar with himself, living in perpetual fear of self-actualization, and asserting a legal right to live free of criticism."

On Nancy Grace: "Looks like a camel in drag."

On Michael Brown: "A man of geological indolence, Brown makes lichens seem dynamic."

On Karl Rove: "Rove is decidedly not a genius; he is simply missing the part of his soul that prevents the rest of us from kicking elderly women in the face."

Good times.

TyrantMail

2006-01-20T15:00:00.000-08:00

Lovin' McSweeney's spoof of "Tyra Mail" from America's Next Top Model.

Tyra Banks is a blithering idiot, but she's lucked into a really engaging show. Still, I can't help but think it would be that much more entertaining if the models - or "sticks with tits" as a friend of mine calls them - had to face shark infested waters, prison, and God's wrath instead of the usual gamut of silly challenges.

Got Me Good

2006-01-03T15:36:00.000-08:00

Remember your creative writing teacher who forever admonished you to show, not tell? Well, if you're still trying to silly putty your brain around that one (I know I still am), go see Brokeback Mountain. This isn't melodrama, friends. This is art.

Merry urp Christmas

2005-12-28T08:57:00.000-08:00

You think it's easy being Santa, what with the bitchy elves, the bratty kids, the job stress? Can't really blame the guy for a little post-holiday overindulgence. I only wish he hadn't taken Rudolph down with him.

TV Rules

2005-12-13T09:08:00.000-08:00

See, this is what I've been sayin':

Television, the class act

And as long as we're on the subject, I advise you to check out Project Runway. Immediately. Designers have bigger egos than rock stars, and the challenges are actually cool and inventive. You don't even have to give a crap about design. Trust me on this one!

Aloha!

2005-11-30T11:47:00.000-08:00

I’m back from Hawaii, the land of beautiful, forest covered mountains, breathtaking vistas, fabulous fruity drinks, sparkling beaches, and mosquitos. Lots and lots of mosquitos. Also? Rain. Lots and lots of rain. Itchy red bumps and water-logged Tevas aside, the trip was fantastic. Fun was most definitely had, and my liver is just a little bit more pickled than it was pre-trip. Oh who am I kidding? A lot more pickled. Anyhoo, I will have some pictures up shortly (though not of my liver—you don’t want to see that), but for now, here are some highlights:

• Swimming and snorkeling on the beaches of Kauai
• Hiking in Kauai
• Swimming by a waterfall in Kauai
• Mojitos in the condo hot tub
• The Thanksgiving luau
• Shave ice (it’s not dirty, it’s delicious!)
• Fabulous dinners courtesy of my fabulous friends
• A tour of the USS Arizona Memorial in Honolulu

There’s much more, including one extreme kayaking adventure, one doggie rescue on the aforementioned extreme kayaking adventure, one very trippy hike, quite a bit of public nudity, and a very disturbing condo pole dance, but in the interest of protecting the privacy of the parties involved, I’ll refrain.

Mahalo!

Don't F**k with Lappie

2005-11-11T10:08:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, we get bored.

"Y'all Ain't Ready." No, really.

2005-11-04T13:46:00.000-08:00

I honestly didn't think Hollywood could claim a bigger idiot than the obnoxious cave troll who goes by the name of Tom Cruise. I was wrong. Mea culpa. Mea MAXIMA culpa.

Tara the Turtle

2005-10-28T10:55:00.000-07:00

I've been inspired by all the lovely blogs of friends (and friends of friends) to commence with the picture posting. Here's a photo Roger took of our turtle, Tara. Isn't she a cutie? She's shy but very photogenic. She likes bananas, crickets, sunlight, and frequent water spritzes. She dislikes greens (bad girl), excessive handling, and sudden movements.

Office Waste

2005-10-26T12:50:00.000-07:00

Work is retarded.

Anne Rice Is Crazy

2005-10-25T09:05:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in a red red state, I was a huge Anne Rice fan. I voraciously read every single one of her novels (including her erotica), many more than once. I subscribed to her newsletter. I went to booksignings and stood in line for hours just to get her to sign my dog-eared copies of her books. I visited New Orleans on a regular basis, and during each visit I made a trip to the Garden District to check out her amazingly beautiful home (come to think of it, I wonder what its status is post-Katrina?).

As I got older, I slowly began to lose interest in dear old Anne, partly because I outgrew her, and partly, well, because her novels started to stink. I think maybe the outgrowing and the stinkage kind of happened simultaneously. I still maintain that the first three vampire novels, the Mayfair Witches saga, The Feast of All Saints and a few other early books are quite good, even if the prose tends toward a garish shade of purple. In later years, however, her novels became virtually unreadable; ego-soaked, way-over-the-top, meandering, and in desperate need of an editor.

But even after I stopped reading her novels, I still regarded her rather fondly in spite of myself, mostly because I encountered her books at that awkward, hyperaware age when you're just discovering that your parents won't have you pinned under their thumbs for much longer and your once-miniscule world is about to burst wide open. Her books, especially the early Vampire Chronicles, really moved me, and for better or worse they left their mark (pun really not intended). For me, they were seminal; they represented everything that was not ordinary, not dull, not pedestrian, and not about life in hot, muggy, decidedly un-gothic suburban Houston.

So I was dismayed to discover, just days ago, that after having left the Roman Catholic church at the age of 18, Ms. Rice has up and rejoined the faith. Now, that in and of itself wouldn't necessarily be cause for alarm. Despite my atheistic bent, my hatred of fundamentalism, and my dislike of people who use the guise of religion to achieve their own selfish ends, I don't disdain the institution entirely. I know Anne Rice has had a lot of tragedy in her life (the death of a child, alcoholism, diabetes, the loss of her husband of 41 years) and faith can soothe many a troubled soul. My problem is that Ms. Rice has declared, in no uncertain terms, that she now only intends to write about Jesus. That's right. Little baby Jesus. Novels about baby Jesus. Apparently, the first book, Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt, is narrated by a 7-year-old Christ. Granted, Ms. Rice has always been something of a weirdo, but this takes the cake. Freaky, creepy cake. I'm half hoping religious authorities will take issue with this and speak out against her, much as the Kabbalist rabbis have done with Madonna, but even if they did I doubt it would matter much. Anne Rice sells, even if she's shilling Crap for Christ. Saints be damned.

Do Not Smash the Cheesecake

2005-10-10T10:28:00.000-07:00

This unusual piece of advice was uttered by a very tired looking woman supervising a rambunctious trio of toddlers at the playground near the wildlife sanctuary on Lake Merritt. I didn't see any cheesecake but I did see that the children were cavorting with/tormenting a frightened chihuahua. Anyway, now I can't stop thinking about cheesecake.

Conservative punk?

2005-09-18T09:38:00.000-07:00

I just read in the September 22 edition of Rolling Stone Magazine that the recently deceased Johnny Ramone was a staunch conservative. Johnny Ramone! Man, I knew there was a reason I never really liked that band.
Scary.

Things I learned from TV, part I

2005-09-06T16:25:00.000-07:00

I've always been fascinated with the bubonic plague, or as it's more romantically known, The Black Death. Somehow my Tivo figured this out and recorded an episode of a new PBS series called "Secrets of the Dead." This particular episode focused on a small village in central England called Eyam that's well known because several townspeople mysteriously survived the plague when it arrived in 1665. By order of the town's pastor, no one was aloud to enter or leave Eyam while the plague went about decimating the majority of its citizens, and the only food came from neighboring villagers who kindly left provisions at a well on the outskirts of town.

Oddly, I've been to Eyam. My family and I were in central England last summer and we drove to the small, gray little village one day at my mother's insistance. I remember mom and I tromping resolutely through a graveyard and several soggy pastures in search of the aforementioned well, but the signage was more than a little confusing and eventually we gave up and returned to our rental car, where my stepdad and sister were waiting grumpily (it was well past lunchtime).

While we were searching in vain for Eyam's well, mom related to me the story of the town's legacy as she knew it: the arrival of the plague via an infected bolt of cloth sent to the village's tailor and the fact that the town had quarantined itself in order to stop the spread of the deadly disease. I had no idea until I watched this show, however, that there had been survivors, and that for centuries scientists have been struggling to discover how this could have happened. Even more interesting is the fact that some survivors contracted the deadly bacteria and then recovered, while others never fell ill at all.

I'll leave the details to the experts, but apparently geneticists have only recently discovered that the survivors contained a genetic mutuation called d32 that saved them from the ravages of the plague. They discovered this by testing the DNA of the survivors' direct descendants, many of whom still live in Eyam. They all had one or two copies of the gene. The assumption is that survivors with one copy of d32 contracted the plague and recovered, while those with two copies never fell ill at all.

Now here's the amazing part. Scientists have recently discovered that some American men who are at high risk for AIDS, but never contracted the disease while their friends were dying in droves, also carry one or two copies of d32. It makes sense. Many Americans are the descendants of European plague survivors, and AIDS, our modern plague, is very similar to the Black Death in terms of the way that it attacks the immune system (although the plague is bacterial and AIDS is a virus, both infections enter white blood cells and render them ineffective). Apparently a man named Steve Crohn, whose lover was the 5th victim of AIDS in the U.S., has never contracted the disease. Researchers tested his blood and discovered he has two copies of d32.

Scientists are now trying to create pharmaceuticals that mimic d32 in order to stop the spread of the AIDS virus. And hey, if that doesn't work, there's always crocodile blood.

Error message redux

2005-09-06T09:46:00.000-07:00

I tried to load a website a few days ago and encountered this message:

“The process cannot access the file because it is being used by another process”

Okay then. Glad we cleared that up.

This bewildering little piece of internet prose immediately brought to mind those halcyon days in the late 90s when the Web was rife with files unfound, jenny middle america’s personal homepage was eternally under construction (not that we actually wanted to read about her award-winning collection of tea cozies) and some people really believed that Bill Gates would send them $1000 just for forwarding an email (yes, they really did).

It also reminded me of this article, which still gives me a chuckle.