The Nerd is the Word

This Blog is Moving!

2009-05-31T15:00:00.000-07:00

To you few brave souls who are reading this, and would like to continue to do so, please be aware that I am moving my blog to a new host.

Please update your bookmarks and RSS feed readers to totalnerd.wordpress.com

melvins

2009-05-27T09:36:00.001-07:00

moss in the morning

Tye and I saw the Melvins show at Roseland Theater on Sunday night, on their 25th anniversary/Houdini tour (with Melvins 1983 opening). It was the third time I've seen them (well...the fourth if you count the time I saw them w/Primus in Ft. Lauderdale, ca. 1994, and waited outside during their set because I thought they were boring...the shame), and while it wasn't the best show I've ever seen there were some lovely moments (including "Joan of Arc" which they're just starting in the picture).

Next time I'm borrowing Audrey's new Flip camera so I can record the show and post vids like the one below, from earlier this year in Sydney Australia.

El Masry

2009-05-22T12:41:00.000-07:00

After last month's trip to Vancouver BC, I was complaining about the paucity of kebab places in Portland. The new Egyptian food cart on SW 3rd & Washington, El Masry, isn't just a kebab place, but they do sell a kofta kebab that's really good.

Yum:

The woman in the cart let me try their fresh mango juice, which is super pulpy and delicious. I'll get a cup of it next time I go, when I think I'll also try the Chicken Shawarma.

R.I.P. Timber Howie (1945-2009)

2009-05-15T09:19:00.000-07:00

Howie (right) with Ricky and Timber Jim, at the MLS2PDX rally in downtown Portland, February 28 2009

My friend Hartmut "Howie" Bless died yesterday morning. I met Howie in 2004 when I started attending Portland Timbers games, and he was always one of my favorite people to see whenever there was a game or any other Timbers Army event. I traveled with Howie to many games in Seattle and Vancouver, and he was also part of our group that went to the UK in 2006 to see Sunderland and Hartlepool.

When someone dies, it's sometimes hard to avoid clichés, like "He was such a happy person," and "One could never say a bad word about him." But with Howie, these sentiments are accurate: I never met him when he didn't have a smile on his face, and it was always a pleasure to hang out with him. He was passionate about soccer, and travel, and above all he loved his Portland Timbers.

There was a Timbers game last night, and when I got the news of Howie's passing at about 3pm, my first thought was "I can't go to the game tonight, it'll be too hard." But I did go, and it was hard, but I'm so very glad I went. All of the people with whom I shared Howie's friendship were there; we raised glasses of Howie's favorite imbibe, Bushmill's Irish Whiskey, at the pub before the game, and swapped memories of our friend.

Stepping into PGE Park was also tough. I went to my usual spot at the front of section 107, and when I looked over to where Howie stood at the front of 108, his seat was full of flowers and scarves. When the Timbers won a seemingly phantom penalty call, very late into 2nd half stoppage time, I felt like it was somehow a bit of Howie's beautiful karma, spreading joy and love around for a few thousand of his friends to enjoy. Ryan Pore easily slotted home the game winner with the final touch of the game, making the final score Portland Timbers 2 - 1 Rochester Rhinos; and I felt Howie smile.

It's a beautiful morning today in Portland, with sunny, warm weather forecast for tomorrow's Timbers meet'n'greet BBQ and U23 game. I'm going to enjoy it, because I know Howie would have enjoyed it, immensely. As the man himself wrote 4 years ago: "Every morning I wake up is a great day." I can't imagine a better mantra to live by.

You will be missed, Howie my friend. You're a rare person, who always made me happy to see you, and who always seemed happy to see me. Rest in peace.

Crash

2009-05-12T21:25:00.000-07:00

I went to Lents Park tonight to watch a friend's soccer team, and about 5 minutes after I parked my car, I saw a bicyclist get hit by a car. I was walking toward one of the soccer fields, facing Holgate Blvd, when I heard a crash. I looked up (I was texting my friend to try and locate his field) and saw a bicycle and a person flying through the air; the bicycle had to be between 10 and 15 feet off the ground. It all happened very quickly. Person and bicycle landed violently in the street, and then a car skidded to a stop next to them, obscuring my view from where I stood about 150 feet away. There were two cars and the bicyclist involved in the collision, but I could not determine what had actually happened, I was too far away. I dialed 911 and reported what I'd seen. A crowd immediately gathered and I walked around the end of the soccer field, toward the intersection of Holgate and 92nd Ave. After dialing 911 I texted what had happened to Audrey. A woman was screaming angrily at one of the cars, and had the bicycle in her hand, trying for a moment it looked like to throw it. I stopped about 30 feet away from the crash site and saw the legs of the bicyclist, he was lying face down in the street but half his body was still obscured from me. The angry woman was now howling. I thought the man was dead, and I did not want to see a dead body. An ambulance came in about 2 minutes I think, during which time I did not see the man's legs or feet move.

About five minutes later the bicyclist was sitting up with a neck brace on, talking and gesturing to the EMTs; he appeared dazed but otherwise, amazingly, not seriously injured. The howling woman was being led away by another woman, and her face was red, she was crying uncontrollably. I was very relieved that the bicyclist was not dead, and went to find my friend's game (it was on the other side of the park, but by coincidence some of the soccer players who ran out into the road after the crash were playing for another team that I have friends on).

Epic Fail

2009-03-13T22:36:00.001-07:00

EPIC FAIL
Originally uploaded by totalnerd

March 11, 2009 - Portland City Commissioner Amanda Fritz holds up a Liverpool scarf to demonstrate that she is a soccer fan - I believe, "I have watched more professional soccer than anyone in this room," was what she said - in preparation for voting NAY on 1st division soccer in Portland.

Curiously, later in Commissioner Fritz' NAY speech she spoke about another of her scarves, that of a crappy little Scottish side she supported in college; she explained that the team wasn't as much fun to watch once they started winning. Curious.

An Open Letter to the Portland Trail Blazers

2009-03-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

Last Wednesday during the hearing at Portland City Hall, which culminated in a 3-2 vote in favor of renovating PGE Park for an MLS Timbers soccer team and building a new baseball stadium for the Beavers in the Rose Quarter, one J.E. Isaac, a senior executive with the Portland Trail Blazers, testified to the effect that the Blazers were against the deal. His rationale was that the Beavers stadium, which is to be built where the Memorial Coliseum now stands, will hurt the "24/7 Entertainment District" the Blazers have planned for the Rose Quarter. This is the response I have sent to them:

Subject: It was a dirty trick.

To Whom it May Concern:

I am a Portland Timbers season ticket holder, and I am a Portland Trail Blazers season ticket holder, and I was very saddened and angered to see J.E. Isaac sitting in front of the Portland City Council last Wednesday, attempting to undermine the deal to bring Major League Soccer to Portland. I think you ought to keep in mind that your fanbase has a large overlap with the Timbers' fanbase. I think you ought to keep in mind the current state of your team, vis-a-vis public opinion, compared to where it was a mere 2 or 3 years ago. And I think you ought to be less selfish and think about the needs of the City, rather than just the needs of your owner's greedy fat pockets.

Paul Allen owns the Blazers, the only first division team in Portland. Paul Allen also owns part of the MLS seattle sounders (*spit*). I find it incredibly insulting that you tried this transparent ploy to smother competition for Allen's precious bottom line. If the vote on Wednesday hadn't gone in favor of bringing MLS to Portland (and it won narrowly 3-2, as I'm sure you're aware, despite your desperate machinations), I would have immediately gotten a refund on next year's ticket, which I've been forced to purchase already in order to secure my playoff tickets for this season (which is an entirely different complaint, again a factor of your despicable greed). As it stands I am none too pleased with you all, and I'm far from alone in these sentiments (I suggest you listen to your precious do-boy John Canzano's show these days, even that mindless soccer-hater can smell the rat in the room). Get with the program and stop trying to hurt Portland and Portland's sports fans in an effort to enrich your own seattle-based (*spit*) teams.

To Paul Allen, J.E. Isaac, and anyone else in on this sleazy trick: You should be ashamed of yourselves. The Timbers, Trail Blazers, and a Rose Quarter-based Beavers baseball team, can all coexist in this town, to the mutual benefit of all parties. But if you try to undermine our Portland Timbers again, you ought to know we have a loyal, tireless, and fiercely protective fan base called the Timbers Army, and we will not stand for any more of your dirty tricks. This aggression will not stand!

Sincerely,
Lucas Grzybowski
SE Portland

Vote YES on MLS 2 PDX

2009-03-06T15:40:00.000-08:00

In advance of next week's vote on the plan to refurbish PGE Park for an MLS Timbers expansion team, here is a copy of the letter I just sent to the Portland City Commissioners and Mayor Sam Adams. It's no literary triumph, but I feel it hits the salient points I wanted to hit:

Dear Nick Fish,

My name is Lucas Grzybowski. I have been a Portland resident since 2001, and a sports fan my entire life. Among my earliest memories are the family watching the World Series, and Super Bowl parties with family and friends. My Dad and I used to attend many single-A baseball games in South Florida where I grew up; later, when we got a major league team in Miami, we went to many of those. After Dad died in 1994, a friend of his managed to sneak onto the field before a Marlins game and sprinkle some of his ashes on the grass. Whenever I see a game at Dolphins Stadium now, I think of my Dad, and how special a spot sports held in our relationship.

When my girlfriend and I discovered the Timbers in 2004...well, without overstating things, it changed our lives. We have become avid - I daresay rabid - soccer fans, and have traveled to three different countries to see games of various sorts (including the 2006 World Cup in Germany). A good many of our friends in town are people we have met through going to Timbers games. In short, we are Timbers fanatics. In my lifelong experience as a sports fan, the Timbers have a unique relationship with the fans and city. Being a member of the Timbers Army is like being a part of an extended family. We break bread together, we share one another's lives, we travel together, and naturally we attend games together.

I am writing to urge you to vote in support of the initiative to bring Major League Soccer to our city. Portland is already known around the country and the world as a very passionate soccer town. Our team plays in the second division of soccer, in a country not exactly known for it's fervent soccer support. Yet when I wore my Timbers Army scarf in Germany during the World Cup, or in Columbus last month at the US vs Mexico match, people repeatedly approached me to say they recognized the scarf, that they had seen the Timbers on television, etc. and really loved what they saw of the atmosphere, fans, etc. Portland is a soccer town, and deserves to be in the highest level of soccer in this country.

I am no economist, I do not claim to know the various baroque details of the deal being worked out - but if the city is in fact safe from financial damage as I have been led to believe, and if Merritt Paulson has actually put his family's money up as the guarantor of the bonds - then I can see no reason why we should not move forward with this. MLS is a league on the rise, it is stable and growing. Having a team in the highest division will offer manifold benefits to this town, and not just to the soccer fans; it will bring even more national and international attention and prestige to Portland.

I believe sports are an important facet to any healthy, diverse city; as much as any bookstore, symphony, public transit system, business community or bird watching club. Portland is a town that loves its sports (dozens of consecutive Blazers' sellouts at the Rose Garden can attest to this, not to mention the fever pitch you can see whenever the Ducks and Beavers play one another in football), but we only have one 'major league' team in town. Please help to bring another major league to Portland.

Please do the right thing. Please do not stick your heads in the sand in these troubling economic times. Rather I urge you to thumb your nose at the naysayers and those who would rather climb into a shell and do nothing; and take a proactive step toward further enriching the personality and health of our fantastic city. I urge you to vote in support of bringing an MLS franchise to Portland.

Thank you,
Lucas Grzybowski
SE Portland

Rally to get the Timbers into MLS!

2009-02-27T11:35:00.000-08:00

Join Portland soccer fans this Saturday as we march and rally to build support to bring a Major League Soccer franchise to Portland. Imagine all the bombast and joy of a Timbers game as you know it, but with a world-class venue (a re-done PGE Park), world-class opponents (Mexican league teams, European friendlies, and of course the always-improving teams in MLS itself), and a world-class supporters group (well, the Timbers Army is already world-class, but you knew that).

WHAT:
A march and rally to show our community support of getting a MLS team in Portland!

WHEN:
Saturday, 2/28
1:30pm: Meet at the Salmon Street Fountain
2:00pm: March to City Hall
2:30pm: Rally in front of City Hall (4th Ave. Entrance)

WHERE:
Salmon Street Fountain: The Salmon Street Springs Fountain is located at Salmon Street and Front Ave., in Waterfront Park, near the Portland Visitor’s Center.

City Hall: 1221 SW 4th Avenue.

BRING:
Friends and Family: In order to help our cause, we need a crowd at this family friendly event! Dogs are welcome too!

MLS to Portland Signs & Flags: Let's make sure people know exactly what we are advocating!

The Noise: Drums, horns, and your voice!

Felipe Alou is a good judge of character

2009-02-17T18:12:00.000-08:00

Two very different sports memories from my childhood:

1) ca. 1988, watching the single-A West Palm Beach Expos with my Dad and asshole then-brother-in-law. Felipe Alou was manager of the Expos, and late in a game was having his pitcher throw to first base a lot to keep a runner close. This was a small stadium (West Palm Municipal, r.i.p.) with maybe 600 people in the crowd, and we were about 10 rows up from where Alou stood at the top of the dugout. My jackass brother-in-law knew nothing about baseball, stood up and yelled, "Come on, I didn't come here to see him toss to first base!" Alou turns around, pegs this hillbilly dipshit with a glare, and says loud enough for anyone to hear, "Go home then, we don't want you here!" I fell in love with Alou that day. He got hosed by the strike in 1994 when his Montreal Expos were the best team in baseball.

2) A year or two later, the Miami Dolphins vs Kansas City Chiefs playoff game at Joe Robbie Stadium. Nick Lowery missed a long field goal for the Chiefs as time expired, and the Dolphins won the game. We were in the end zone upper deck, and the kick was directly toward us; it was straight down the middle, and I couldn't see the crossbar to know that it was short, until the crowd erupted and I felt the stadium shake. I also felt a full beer splash onto my back, but in the bedlam I didn't care. We were off to the next round (where, naturally we'd lose to the Bills).

Book Log 2009

2009-02-03T12:46:00.000-08:00

Another new year, another promise to myself that I'm going to blog more book reviews. Last year was something of a dud (you can see my 2008 reading list here), but maybe this year will be -- better!

Here's the 2009 list thus far. I'll update this as I read each book with either a blurb review or link to a longer write-up.

15. Third From the Sun - Richard Matheson (1954)

14. My Ántonia - Willa Cather (1918)

13. Roger's Version - John Updike (1986)

12. Ellison Wonderland - Harlan Ellison (1962)
At his best, Harlan Ellison is a wry and devious teller of fantastic stories, dealing mainly with the meanness of the universe and humanity's struggle against loneliness and oblivion. At his worst, he's a self-obsessed blowhard who likes to hear himself talk. This short-story collection is a little of both, but leans toward the good Ellison.

11. The Last Continent - Terry Pratchett (1998)
Yes, so as I have mentioned, sometimes I get in the mood to read Discworld, and I don't want to read anything else. This is my second time reading The Last Continent, and it's definitely one of the best in the series: it manages to be a great stand-alone book while also furthering the misadventures of the hapless Rincewind the Wizzard (probably my favorite Discworld character). No worries, I'll get back to a more varied reading list very soon.

10. Carpe Jugulum - Terry Pratchett (1998)
Perhaps the best of the Witches arc that I've read yet; normally they're not my favorite. This one also is our first look at Überwald and it's denizen vampires.

9. Hogfather - Terry Pratchett (1996)
Sometimes I get on a Pratchett kick; the Discworld books are just so enjoyable. The plot of this one is a mess, but it doesn't matter. The main characters are the increasingly lovable Death, his granddaughter, and a great villain, the assassin Mister Teatime (don't mispronounce that).

8. Jingo - Terry Pratchett (1997)
A very funny Discworld book about the absurdity of war. This one is in the City Watch story arc, my personal favorite, and features a memorable appearance by the Patrician.

7. Ironweed - William Kennedy (1984)
Grim, visceral tale of bums in late-30s Albany NY, as told through the eyes of a former big-league ballplayer turned vagrant, as he wends his way through day jobs, family reunions, and drinking jags. And he sees ghosts.

6. Gun, With Occasional Music - Jonathan Lethem (1994)
Lethem's first book is a sometimes creepy noir detective novel, set in a dystopian future where one's karma (and very survival) is a commodity tightly controlled by the police state. This one lacks the emotional depth of his later work, yet it's a fun book with an entertaining cast of characters, including hyper-evolved kangaroo gangsters and a very unsettling infant (more "Family Guy" than "Eraserhead").

5. Rabbit is Rich - John Updike (1981)
I hadn't read any Updike in a few years, and when he died I figured it was a good excuse to rejoin the Rabbit series, of which I had read the first two. Rabbit is Rich reminds me how much I love this man's writing (though The Centaur is still my favorite of his); his characters have incredible depth, and he has the ability to recreate the sense of "everythingness" we all carry around in our heads. Something mundane - e.g. A man who owns a Toyota dealership wants to sleep with a golf buddy's wife, and meanwhile his son has to marry a woman he knocked up while away at college - is given the heightened importance that would attach were one actually living that man's life. For some reason the word "fearless" keep coming to mind when I try to pin down what it is I like so much about Updike's writing; the man was a remarkable talent.

4. A Fall of Moondust - Arthur C. Clarke (1961)
Moon-based thriller about the rescue of some trapped tourists, this choice bit of Clarke pulp is often unintentionally hilarious with its depictions of women (and people in general...but especially women).

3. Empire Falls - Richard Russo (2001)
I enjoyed Russo's writing and his characterizations are deep and believable, but this real-people-in-a-small-town story becomes too schmaltzy toward the end.

2. Titus Andronicus - William Shakespeare (ca. 1590)
I hadn't read any Shakespeare in years, and I own a DVD of Julie Taymor's 1999 film adaptation and wanted to know the story before I watched it. Easily the most graphically violent play I've read by Shakespeare, it's a twisted tale of rape, murder, and dismemberment (much of it on stage).

1. The Unteleported Man - Philip K. Dick (1966)
The flipside of Dr. Futurity in my Ace Double edition. A clever novella about debt, the media, cynical plutarchs and interstellar colonization. More reminiscent of the bleak and gritty Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? than Dick's more psychedelic work like Galactic Pot-Healer (though according to the wikipedia page, The Unteleported Man was amended by Dick late in his life and renamed Lies, Inc. [a reference to a company in the book] which included 100 extra pages detailing an acid trip).

Book Logs

2009-02-03T12:35:00.000-08:00

A few years ago I decided to try and review every book I read; partly to practice my writing, and partly to see how many books I would read in a year. It hasn't worked out exactly as I'd hoped - I reviewed every book in 2006 but only a dozen or so each year since - but I'm still giving it my college try. The reading lists are complete (except for 2007), and this year I really really really am going to post at least a blurb whenever I finish a book.

The links below take you to my reviews and reading lists, such as they are:

2006

2007

2008

2009

Thanks

2008-11-27T12:14:00.000-08:00

To my employer for giving us the afternoon off yesterday. I used the time to go home and freshen up before going out to the Trail Blazers game.
To my friend Trask for the ticket to the Trail Blazers game. It was a strange game. The Blazers beat Miami 106-68, and had 6 guys in double digits, and that doesn't include B. Roy (who, if the game were closer, and he had been forced to play more than 30 minutes, would probably have had a triple-double). Aldridge looked good finally, Sergio had a fantastic 11-1 Asst/TO ratio with only 3 shots taken, and Channing Frye had a game high 17 pts. But probably my favorite stat line of the night is: Dwayne Wade: 12 pts on 5-14 shooting. Impressive stuff, Blazers.
To Audrey for dragging me out of bed this morning. I'm normally a very early riser, but would have been happy to sleep the whole day away. Audrey (and Mudshark) woke me up though, and it's a good thing, too: otherwise I wouldn't have been able to help make a delicious savory yam tart and generally enjoy this relaxing Thanksgiving morning.
To the Detroit Lions fans for enduring a really horrible season, which includes yet another embarrassing Thanksgiving Day loss (currently losing 44-10 to the Titans).
To Audrey's family, who are having us over for dinner tonight (we're bringing the yam tart, in addition to a broccoli casserole); and to my friend Bruce, who is opening his house to us as well, later tonight.
To Merritt Paulson, for making a real push to get the Timbers into MLS, and for making them into a real soccer club with a PDL team (which will begin play next year, coached by Minnesota Thunder legend Amos Magee).
And to all of my friends and family, for being the good and kind people you are. I hope you're all having a great holiday, close to your loved ones.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Holiday Spirit?

2008-11-25T10:23:00.000-08:00

Just in time for Thanksgiving we get some warm and fuzzies:

Does satire fail when it is no longer more absurd than reality?

Satire:

And editorial courtesy of The Onion:

I may be a Christian, but it's not like I'm one of those wacko "love your neighbor as yourself " types.

My faith in the Lord is about the pure, simple values: raising children right, saying grace at the table, strictly forbidding those who are Methodists or Presbyterians from receiving communion because their beliefs are heresies, and curing homosexuals. That's all. Just the core beliefs. You won't see me going on some frothy-mouthed tirade about being a comfort to the downtrodden.

I'm a normal Midwestern housewife. I believe in the basic teachings of the Bible and the church.... If a man lieth down with another man, they shall be taken out and killed. Things everybody can agree on.... You know, basic common sense stuff.

Reality:

An actual news item, courtesy of The Oregonian daily newspaper:

...three young women and a man from a Kansas church, here [in Silverton, Oregon] to register their disdain with the recent election of the nation's first openly transgender mayor, Stu Rasmussen.

...the signs offered assorted damnation -- "Barack Obama = Antichrist," "God Hates You," "You're Going to Hell" and "Fag Media Shame."

...it's our duty to come out here and preach to these people because they're so proud of having a transvestite mayor," Phelps said. "It's disgusting. And where was it? Was it Isaiah? Deuteronomy? About it being an abomination?"

How much damn money does this little piss-ant hate church have anyway? They jet all around the country doing fun stuff like protesting the funerals of soldiers killed in Iraq, and picketing Obama's grandma's funeral, and all because...America is tolerant of gays? Apart from being diabolically hateful, it doesn't even make sense.

I'm glad I live in a country where people are entitled to express their opinions, no matter how batshit crazy or ignorant or appalling. And I'm also very happy to live in Oregon, the same state as Stu Rasmussen, new Mayor of the lovely town of Silverton, and not Kansas, with Fred Phelps and his gang of human garbage.

This leaves a very sour taste in my mouth, so I'll probably need to do some happy blogging soon to wash it out. Maybe I'll write up the basketball game tomorrow night. Go Blazers!

My very own Election Night live blog!

2008-11-04T08:40:00.000-08:00

It's November 4 2008, a.k.a. Election Day (also a.k.a. my niece's birthday, I need to call her), and I just got to ~~school~~ work. I figure since this is The Most Important Election In The History Of This Or Any Other Universe, I may as well use it as an excuse to revive my recently moribund blog. So I'll update this page throughout the day and into the night with clever ruminations, ribald puns and poignant insights. Also probably some drunken incoherencies and jokes about hillbillies.

8:50am - My first thought is this: If you haven't already done so, get out and vote, slacker!

1:40pm - Getting antsy for some returns to come in now. Spent my lunch hour wandering around downtown, going to the bank and picking up some new socks. I AM WILD AND CRAZY GUY. Beauty weather today in Portland, sunny and breezy and cool - well it was sunny an hour ago, looks like the rains are coming back. Portends an evening of cozy indoors action with Audrey and the cats and a smörgåsbord of drink, food and drink.

5:50pm - Just got home from work, and I'm a bit wired. Got my free "I voted!" coffee from Starbucks late in the afternoon, and also somehow ended up with a hot chocolate. So sugar caffeine boing boing boing and I'm now pouring some gin on top to achieve a balance.

According to NY Times, both candidates are winning the states they're "supposed" to win, and the battlegrounds, particularly North Carolina and Florida, are looking good for Mr. Obama. Did you know that Oregon is the nation's largest producer of grass seed?

6:50pm - I'm now blogging with Audrey's XO laptop; it's wee! I can normally type upwards of 90 words per minute, and now I am typing hunt and peck style. TECHNOLOGY FOR TINY PEOPLE!

Obama's lead grows. I am buzzing. We've opened a bottle of Full Sail's Doppelbock; it's lovely. Election cupcakes are baked.

7:25pm - Lurching guts. Steve Forbes is on Stewart and Colbert show. Dork. Golly and stuff, I sure would like to see some resolution here.

7:58pm - Bridgeport's Raven Mad Imperial Porter is currently knocking my socks into an off position; it comes with anaglyph 3D glasses! NY Times is showing 207 electorals for Obama, which if our west coast goes as it should (73EV), means there is a bag, and IT is almost in said bag.

Colbert and Stewart just called Virginia for Obama with 92% reporting. Shit be wilin' yo.

8:15 - Everyone's calling it for Obama. I'm breathing easier, but I'll probably be up for a few more hours. I may in fact go join revelry somewhere. My home state of Florida is now being called for Obama. This is pretty big stuff.

8:50pm - Double-fisting a glass of champagne and an Election Cupcake (made with Maker's Mark frosting), awaiting Obama's acceptance speech.

9:45pm - Depressing lack of quality local election coverage (for Portland, OR). I want numbers!

--:-- - We're ending our evening with a little port. Sweet and syrupy and shpadoinkel. My cat's breath smells like cat food.

Magic Drawring

2008-10-27T09:19:00.001-07:00

AutoDraw
Originally uploaded by NymphoBrainiac

Picture made with computer magic as part of the Equilibrium: The Human Mash Up at the Olympic Mills Building (née B&O Warehouse) in SE Portland.

O British Columbia

2008-08-21T21:40:00.000-07:00

Here we are, hanging out in downtown The Couve, eating at a pub overlooking English Bay, enjoying the view from our hotel, walking around, people-watching, etc. I don't know if it's Canada or just Vancouver, but this place is expensive; probably because we're downtown in a big city, but golly gee. $6.75 for a pint of half-decent beer (the local was cheaper, but is pretty ordinary). And the prices in the liquor store were even better. I managed to find a fifth of Beefeater gin for a reasonable rate; I can't stay in a hotel for 4 nights without a portable bar.

Tomorrow is the Timbers vs Whitecaps game, and before that we're going to check out Granville Island. After that we've got an entire weekend in Vancouver to do: stuff? I want to check out the anthropology museum at UBC, and we'd like to go to Chinatown again (was a highlight of our last trip here, three years ago) and probably get some Indian food. Beyond that we've only got hints of suggestions of ideas of what to do.

Vacation is very neato.

Zzzzz...

2008-07-31T14:25:00.000-07:00

I snoozed my alarm for about an hour and a half this morning. My alarm clock is across the room, so I have to get out of bed to turn it off. In theory this is supposed to help me get up earlier; in reality it doesn't do shit, except for possibly giving me strange morning dreams.

Like this morning. By the time I finally got out of bed, I think I was still dreaming, and I was so bleary and confused that I actually believed that I had shaved while sleeping. Panicky, I had to go look in the mirror before the spell vanished and I saw that my beard looked no more stupid than usual.

I think I have insomnia.

Kucinich's Brass Balls

2008-06-09T19:26:00.000-07:00

Dennis Kucinich is on the floor of the House right now reading Articles of Impeachment against President Bush.

This is good news to me for a number of reasons, not least of which is that it gives me a sliver of hope that the Democratic party isn't completely bankrupt of guts or dignity. "President George W. Bush, by such conduct, is guilty of an impeachable offense warranting removal from office," said the former Mayor of Cleveland after reading each of the 35 charges.

I got home from work, exhausted and not wanting to go to book club (sorry guys, too tired, but I did read the book!), and saw Kucinich as I channel surfed through the dorky public/gov't access region of my cable box (he's still on C-SPAN reading at 7:40PM PDT, and he's only at about Article 28). I turned on the sound and couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Way to go, Dennis. Thanks.

USL Division 1 - 2008 Attendance

2008-05-20T21:38:00.000-07:00

5.20.08

Montreal opened their new Saputo Stadium yesterday, drawing 0-0 with the Vancouver Whitecaps in front of 13,034. All teams in USLD1 have now played at least one game at home (and only 37 days into the season - gotta love this league!).

Here are your updated numbers:

**USL Division 1 2008 Attendance**
(as of May 19, 2008)
Team	Home Games	Total Att.	Avg. Att.
Montreal Impact	1	13034	13034
Portland Timbers	4	33311	8328
Rochester Rhinos	1	7138	7138
Vancouver Whitecaps	3	15039	5013
Seattle Sounders	3	13972	4657
Carolina RailHawks	3	12628	4209
Puerto Rico Islanders	4	16335	4084
Charleston Battery	4	14733	3683
Minnesota Thunder	2	4960	2480
Atlanta Silverbacks	4	9442	2361
Miami FC	5	11546	2309

4.28.08

Hard to glean anything useful when most teams haven't played more than a game or two (and four teams - Seattle, Rochester, Montreal and Minnesota - haven't played yet at home), but here are my observations and thoughts:

Compared with last season: Miami has improved; Puerto Rico has disappointed; Vancouver, Carolina & Charleston are drawing good crowds as you would expect; and Portland has had significant improvements.

These early numbers are promising for Portland, because typically attendance is slow to start a season, and only pick up once the weather dries up (we've had a very erratic spring with plenty of cold and hail and snow(!)). I expect Puerto Rico will pick things up (their two home games thus far have both been against regional rival Miami, but yesterday's game was in a torrential downpour on a flooded pitch). The Whitecaps sell out (or nearly so) every home game, but their park only holds just over 5K; rumors I've heard say that the new stadium plan for downtown Vancouver has hit a snag, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed (Swangard is a fine place to take in a game, but a big soccer stadium in Gastown would be immense).

It will be interesting to see what attendance will look like in Montreal, where they're opening their brand new Saputo Stadium next month. L'Impact have been drawing very good crowds for a few years now (averaged 11K last year), and Saputo will hold 13.5K; but those numbers must be taken with the salt grain that many of their tickets are given away gratis. Plus, as we've seen with Montreal's local rival Rochester, a new stadium does not necessarily greater attendance make. Rochester's PAETEC Park opened in 2006, and in that time the team has taken a bad turn: attendance is down, fans are disgruntled, the team isn't winning...oh and they almost went belly-up earlier this year when their owners took a huge dump. Their season was saved, but they took the "Raging" out of their name and unveiled a new and lame logo, and I'm curious to see if they can regain their place as attendance kings of the USL (my personal prediction is that we'll see Montreal once again tops in the league, followed by Portland).

Seattle enters their last season in USL 1 with their home-opener vs Portland Timbers May 10 at Qwest Field (a mammoth NFL stadium in the city core); thereafter the Sounders will play their home games at the Starfire Sports Complex (a rec/youth field in the suburbs). Based on the traveling support we saw last weekend (Seattle's ECS brought what looked like 40-50 to PGE Park, easily the most we've seen from that lot), and the bandwagon effect of having an MLS team starting up next season, I think we'll see better numbers at Sounders games this year. Then again, Starfire only holds 2000 (it was was expanded to nearly 5K for the title game last year, but I don't know if they're planning to do that for all 14 home games this season). For a USL club it's a far better venue than Qwest, which even when they put in a respectable crowd of 8000 (drawn for their home opener last year, also against Portland) looks cavernous and embarrassingly empty.

Have I got anything wrong? Please leave a comment and sort me out.

Civil Duty

2008-05-20T13:17:00.000-07:00

One of the only things I miss about living in Florida was that you had to go to a precinct to vote; here in Oregon we have vote by mail, which is a far superior method but lessens the intangible excitement of "election day."

I just did my civic duty at Pioneer Sq. It was disappointingly calm - last time I dropped off a ballot there the place was a zoo (this was whenever Sam Adams got elected to city council; I remember this because he was there and shook my hand, and I told him he was a good guy even though I'd voted for Fish). Speaking of Fish, I also got some of those awesome little sandwiches from No Fish, Go Fish. Cream cheese and pepperoncini yum.

Anyway, yeah, boring square, though I did get a couple free Clif bars from some dude at the ballot boxes thanking people for voting (before he was chased off by a cop). And I saw a white guy with one of those knit hairbags on his head. And a little girl looking at a book of dinosaur illustrations. And two separate people with portable oxygen tanks. And a chick who looked exactly like the really violent teenager from Kill Bill, who worked for O-Ren Ishii. But no prancing goofballs with political placards like the ones I saw on the Morrison Bridge this morning.

Have You Ever Had A Tin?

2008-04-30T20:06:00.000-07:00

Did you know that Brian Schmetzer likes to kick puppies? Of course you did, but did you know that Hugo Alcaraz-Cuellar has a picture of Osama Bin Laden on the inside of his locker and that he kisses it before every game? Yes, you knew that too. How about this: Roger Levesque is personally responsible for every bad thing that has happened to you, ever. Guy isn't even repentant about it, when I asked him if he was going to apologize, you know what he did? Threatened to kill me. True story.

Look, I know you hate the Seattle Sounders as much as the next guy. And if you don't, it probably means you haven't seen them play yet. Well the good news is you'll have that chance on Saturday, May 10, when the Mighty Portland Timbers visit Qwest Field in Seattle to take on the Sounders. That's right, Timbers fans, we got us a bona fide road trip ahead of us: our last ever* to Qwest Field to play the Flounder Scum.

I know you're pumped. You can't wait to roll into Qwest with 300 of your closest Timbers Army friends, to own that cavernous shit box once again. We've got a strong squad again this year, we're first in the league and improving every game. Our Japanese Superhero Takayuki Suzuki is ready to humble the Flounders once again, just like he did last weekend. What's that? You don't have a ride up? Good news, friends: we've got seats available on the bus.

Tickets are $30 - this gets you a seat on the bus, which includes free hilarity and bombast, PLUS there will be a keg of Ninkasi beer. Mmm, beer! (we'll sort out game tickets when we get up there) Email Finnegan - finnegantimber@gmail.com - for further details (you can also paypal your money directly to him). The first two buses filled up with the quickness, so don't wait to get your seat on Bus # 3 (sure to be the cuh-ray-ziest bus of all!).

*this is the last time Portland will visit Seattle for a USL league match, as the Flounders will be in MLS next year - possible future dates include US Open Cup matches, or MLS league matches if/when Portland gets a team.

#10. Rendezvous With Rama

2008-04-13T08:58:00.003-07:00

2008.10 - Rendezvous With Rama, Arthur C. Clarke (1972)

The day Arthur C. Clarke died I decided to re-consume some of his more important works. I went home that night and watched 2001: A Space Odyssey, and the following morning I picked up Rendezvous With Rama. It was one of the first sci fi books I read when I started reading the genre sometime in my early 20s, and it is as good now as ever.

Rama is a story about humanity's first contact with alien intelligence; and while it shares this general premise with 2001, it only contains a little of the mysticism of that other masterpiece. More so, this is an adventure story: a ship full of astronauts are sent to investigate a spaceship that has entered the solar system. The crew of brilliant and daring men and women enter said spaceship - the titular Rama - and discover it to be a massive cylinder with a self-contained world on the inside (something akin to another legendary sf artifact, the Ringworld, but on a much smaller scale).

Adventure and Science happen, politics is sprinkled on top, interpersonal relationships are given lip-service, and Clarke leaves things very much open at the end (yes, there are sequels, which I haven't yet read). I wouldn't call this a young-adult novel, but it is a superb book to give to that young reader in your life, who you're trying to bend to your tastes. One of the great sci fi books of the last 50 years, it remains relatively unknown (in comparison to the other giant landmarks in the genre), and comes highly recommended by me. Certainly one of the best things Clarke ever published.

#9. Oil!

2008-04-13T08:58:00.001-07:00

2008.09 (DBC) - Oil!, Upton Sinclair (1927)

This book was a long slog that ate up a good month's worth of my reading time; so I will make this review short and sweet.

Oil! is a good book for the first third or so; we get a story about an up-and-coming oilman and his wide-eyed son in the 1910s. It reminded me in a way of Moby Dick, as it mixes human drama with technical trade talk (substituting oil for whaling). So far, so good.

The book then veers into plodding political pedantry, which is somewhat interesting (WWI, emerging Red Scare, corruption in US government) but becomes maddeningly repetitive by about midway through. By the end I was struggling to complete each short chapter, and I didn't care one whit about whether the characters failed or succeeded, lived or died.

This is the first thing I've read by Sinclair, and I've always wanted to read The Jungle (which somehow I never read in high school or college). I am now wary and may not bother.

#8. The Anatomy of Peace

2008-04-13T08:57:00.000-07:00

2008.08 - The Anatomy of Peace, The Arbinger Institute (2006)

This is a corporately-produced and -targeted sort of self-help book that I, unsurprisingly, read for work (which is an educational research company). The thrust of the book is to diffuse and prevent conflicts, whether personal, job-related, or international.

There is a frame narrative here, but it's flat and without style or personality, and only serves as a vehicle for a series of anecdotes about the Middle East, parent-child relationships and dysfunctional workplaces. I was able to take something from the book - the anecdotes are admittedly useful and do posit a series of interesting ideas about the causes of conflict being internal. But overall it felt like a very dry text book, because that's what it is (there are charts...and diagrams!).

You cannot judge a book by its cover - which in this case is a sort of stylized olive branch (maybe?) - but I think you can judge a book by its author: if a book is authored by an Institute, do not expect to be wowed by literary excellence. Taken for what it is, Anatomy of Peace is useful; but it is not art.

My God, it's full of stars!

2008-03-18T15:40:00.000-07:00

Arthur C Clarke died today in his home in Sri Lanka.

This is meaningful to me for a couple of reasons, not least of which, and most obviously, is my affinity for Clarke's writing. 2001: A Space Odyssey is easily his best work, a real landmark in the field of speculative fiction; it's simply a great book (and a great movie, which he co-created with Stanley Kubric simultaneously with the book).

But on a more personal level, this struck a...all I can say is that it struck a cosmic chord with me (silly as that may sound). Lately I have been experiencing strange Magnolia-style coincidences, things that seem too unlikely to be pure chance (e.g. I wonder about a friend I haven't heard from in years, and tell Audrey about him or dream about him, and the next day he sends me an email). I admit that I didn't even know if Clarke was still alive, but I will place his death in this "cosmic coincidence" category, as just last night Audrey and I were wondering if and when he had died.

Then this afternoon, as I listened to (appropriately enough) the trancy/outer-spacey sounds of Boredoms' brilliant album Vision Creation Newsun, I read the news that Clarke has died at age 90.

As my friend Ralph pointed out, this would be a great time to reread the Odyssey books or Rendezvous With Rama, or to get into some of his work that I've never read, like Childhood's End.

Here's to you, Arthur. I hope you're enjoying a celestial round of drinks right now with Heinlein and Asimov (OK I know Isaac didn't drink alcohol, he can have celestial lemonade).

I think tonight I'll watch 2001, and when Dave Bowman exclaims "My God, it's full of stars!" I'll wonder if Arthur has also finally discovered what exists within the monolith, beyond those stars.

Timbers Season Kickoff Party

2008-03-01T11:39:00.000-08:00

Join the Army!

...at their season kickoff bash.

What: Timbers Army 2008 Season Kickoff Party (also de facto Timber Jim Retirement Party)

When: Saturday March 29 @ 9:00 PM

Where: Bitter End Pub, 1981 W. Burnside St., Portland OR (21+)

Why: 1) Send Timber Jim out in style (his final game as Portland Timbers chainsaw-wilding mascot will be the home opener, April 17 vs Puerto Rico Islanders). 2) Kickoff the new Timbers season with booze, bands and bonhomie. 3) Because it's been a long, Timberless winter, and we need to get our lungs and livers back in shape.

Cover charge: $6 (there will be merch for sale, and probably also door prizes and raffles, so bring your cash)

Featuring the musical goodness of: Rum Rebellion; My Life In Black & White; Shock Troops; and possibly a fourth.

#7. The Stars, Like Dust

2008-02-21T19:52:00.000-08:00

2008.07 - The Stars, Like Dust, Isaac Asimov (1951)

**** SPOILER ALERT ALERT **** Later in this review I will alert the reader that I will spoiler the ending of this book.

One of Isaac Asimov's first books (written when he was still the dapper devil you see to your left), The Stars, Like Dust is a story of galactic politics and intrigue, set 10,000 years in the future; it's a part of the Empire series, and is in the same universe as the Foundation novels (but set long before that series begins).

This is Asimov at his best, when his ideas are clear and exciting, and his characters and dialogue are easily believable enough, in a goofball aw-shucks way. I daresay this book is as good as the best early Foundation and Robot books: a deft mixture of large-scale socio-political themes and individual storylines; idealism and geek appeal; and just the right amount of bang-bang action and machismo to create an almost perfect adventure story. The plot even veers toward the noir at times, with double-crosses heaped upon double-crosses, but never strays far from a strong vein of earnest optimism.

****THE SPOILER ALERT ITSELF**** I am now going to spoiler you, bro!

The ending of The Stars, Like Dust - and I mean the last couple pages of the book - is so silly, so out of place and pointless, that it feels tacked on, like it was added on a whim just prior to the thing going to press. It's like a Deus Ex Machina that doesn't need to be there, that does nothing to further the climax or denouement, or any of the rest of the story. There were two or three badly inserted instances of foreshadowing for this device, and then when it hit I just rolled my eyes and said, "Hey, whatever, Asimov is a god and allowed to write hokey stuff if he wants." Right?

Anyhow it doesn't take anything away from the actual meat of the book; like I said, there are plenty of things to recommend it, and I'm glad I read it. I've been thinking about re-reading the Foundation books; I think I may read the rest of this Empire series first.

Dive

2008-02-20T18:09:00.000-08:00

5:00 rolls around, I get out of work, I make for the bus. Sometimes, especially if My Audrey is already engaged with a meeting (or a meetup, I can never tell the difference), there strikes me the urge for a drink. Sometimes, there are few pleasures finer than a whiskey at a dive bar to ease the tension of the day. And these days, my favorite (and sadly one of the only remaining) downtown PDX dive bar is the Yamhill Pub.

I seat myself at the bar and order bourbon, little ice, beer back please (Pabst OK? Great). I open my book and let the sounds and smells envelop me as I read about political intrigue 10,000 years in the future.

A girl steps to the bar to order a pitcher, peers at my book, interested in the title ("The Stars, Like Dust"). We have a brief conversation wherein I impress upon her the merits of Isaac Asimov, and she moves back to her friends. I smile.

As I'm finishing my second and last whiskey, a man bellies up next to me who has only one arm. The stump looks (in the mirror opposite) to be wrapped in tin foil or saran wrap. While doling out one-dollar bills, in an elaborate gesture using his good hand and stump, he orders:

"A shot of Jim Beam, and whatever back-up you like. Long as it ain't Coors." I smile.

"What's that?" he asks, pointing at the small glass of beer, as the bartender - one of the finest in town, a young woman with spiked black hair and an always affable way - proffers his drinks. She rolls her eyes exaggeratedly and shrugs, smiling.

The one-armed man laughs - I laugh, the bartender laughs - and grabs his drinks.

I stare at myself in the bar mirror, making faces, while I finish my drink. A rerun of the Colbert Report is on the TV and there's a faint smell of deep-fried something mingling with the smoke. I smile and leave.

#6. The Painted Bird

2008-02-17T10:00:00.000-08:00

2008.06 (DBC) - The Painted Bird, Jerzy Kosinski (1965)

I'm not sure what exactly I expected when I opened The Painted Bird; probably something like an uplifting tale of perseverance about a Jew in Europe during World War II.

Well. It does take place during WWII Europe. And the main character, who is frequently (mis)taken for a Jew or a Gypsy (though we're never told if he is or isn't), certainly perseveres after a fashion.

But uplifting? Absolutely not. "Mind-blowingly depressing" would be a more apt description, also maybe "horrific," "unbearable," and "disgusting." And for good measure: "WTF?"

I'm not trying to scare people away though, because this book (Kosinski's first) is also brilliant and overpowering, and most definitely deserving of 'Classic' status. The quick synopsis: "Orphan in Nazi-controlled rural Poland, trying to stay alive." The narrator is a young boy, whose anti-Nazi activist parents have sent him away to escape potential danger in light of expanding German hegemony in Europe ca. 1940.

His adventures over the next four years are full of the most astounding horrors imaginable (and unimaginable). The narrator maybe would have been better off staying with Mom and Dad to face the coming of the Nazis, for in a true catalog of cruelty, he migrates from one village to the next, encountering primitive rustic peoples whose lives are ruled by ingrained hatred and mistrust. The level of folk superstition and mythology are such that one can at times forget that the book is set in the 20th century and not the Dark Ages.

There are some noteworthy flaws in the text; the symbolism is at times heavy-handed to the point of eye-rolling, but Kosinski more often than not makes it work. The book is an exhausting read, as our narrator is forced to endure a litany of truly hateful and barbaric trials, each more heinous than the last (including but not limited to: graphic scenes of torture, rape, and bestiality). It's really saying something about the level of savagery shown by nearly every character (including, eventually, the narrator himself), when Stalin and his Red Army are seen as perhaps the most kind-hearted souls.

Kosinski definitely has something to offer the reader who can endure wave after wave of awful scenarios; it's difficult to read, but somehow at the same time it's "a real page-turner" as they say. Not exactly brimming with hope, and at times diabolical to the point that I wanted to put it down, The Painted Bird is yet full of very beautiful language and a unique perspective on, as Robert Burns put it, "man's inhumanity to man."

I'm a Member!

2008-02-13T18:40:00.000-08:00

Let me say, first of all, that I love public radio. Hooray for NPR! (and our local affiliate OPB!) Hooray!

Except for the pledge drives. "Please, sir, I want some more." *sniffle sniffle*

Even after I donate, the begging will never stop. But at least I've got a long sleeved t-shirt on the way!

Thanks to Malki! for summing up my feelings in this Wondermark strip:

#5. Tar Baby

2008-02-05T10:15:00.000-08:00

2008.05 - Tar Baby, Toni Morrison (1981)

This is Toni Morrison's fourth novel, published years before she won her Pulitzer (1988, for Beloved) or Nobel Prize (1993).

I've been enthralled with Morrison's writing since college, when I read The Bluest Eye, and have since been stymied to figure out why she isn't more popular. Awards notwithstanding, she resides in some kind of academia/Oprah bubble, outside of which people just don't seem to give a shit; I'm hesitant to ascribe this to some kind of latent racism (e.g. "Oh that's just a book for middle-aged black women"), but the thought did cross my mind. Those who do bother to read Morrison will discover not only a vastly gifted writer, one whose observations on humans are acute and beautifully expressed, but also one who doesn't pull any punches with anyone. Everyone has their faults - black, white, rich, poor, woman, man - and no one is spared. (Which is not to say that Morrison is a cynic; just a realist, I think. There is a thread of optimism and love that runs through everything I've read by her.)

Tar Baby on the whole contains the same themes present in the other Morrison books I've read: relations between people of different demographic rubrics (race, gender, wealth, etc.); the search for identity in a society or setting not necessarily friendly or nurturing; and the depths and limits of human beauty and callousness. Another theme, one very present in Tar Baby, is the exporation of the "naturalness" of humans - i.e., are humans animals, or are they something more? If something more, what is it that separates us from the animals? And is it necessarily a good thing to have such separation?

Without giving away too much, Tar Baby takes place for the most part on a private island is the Caribbean and deals with a very wealthy white couple and their black servants. A sailor on the lam jumps ship and invades their secluded serenity, and they all try to get through Christmas without completely disintegrating into chaos. As I said, all the themes of racial/gender/economic relationships are present, and they become more strained as the story progresses. There are some wonderful scenes, where Morrison moves the perspective from one character to another, seamlessly shifting from one voice to the next, complete with a full set of prejudices, desires, hatreds, etc.

Sadly the last act is nowhere near as coherent plot-wise as the first two. The themes remain, but after a screeching climax about 2/3 of the way through, the rest of the plot feels tacked on and messy (including a sort of ain't-we-great love story that really misses the mark and veers the story into a boring, self-indulgent direction). At the end of the day Tar Baby is a kind of depressing, things-fall-apart story, so maybe it was intentional on Morrison's part that the text feel so disjointed, out of place. By the end she's got the narrative back to where it seemed to have been heading all along, and the ending of the book is satisfying, if frustrating for all that meandering.

PS-

(I think it's appropriate to include this as a side note: I bought my copy of the book used, and it has the dreaded margin notes. I'm guessing the previous owner was an 18-year old college freshman gal. There are underlinings and stars etc. in the margins, all of which point to a reader who fell into the trap I mentioned above, that Morrison's writings are only about mistreated black people, and those are the only bits of the book worth noting. She uses smiley faces and frowney faces - hand-written emoticons, for chrissake! - to pick these scenes out, completely ignoring other scenes of massive import. I don't want to spoiler it, but there's a scene that should have been margin-noted to death, wherein we learn the meaning of the title within the framework of the book, but Ms. Moron neglected to note it because [I guess] it wasn't white-on-black hate.)

Blogging about Blogging. With Beer.

2008-01-25T17:35:00.000-08:00

I am currently sitting in the Lucky Labrador Brew Pub in Portland, Oregon USA (the Hawthorne Blvd. version), attending a meet-up organized by the Beer and Blog website (which "is like a networking event based around a group work session"). Audrey convinced me to come, since with this blog and my Sunderland blog, I am technically "a blogger." I don't feel like "a blogger," because my technical knowledge is laughably brief; but Audrey is persuasive, so here I am.

I'm the only one without a laptop and I felt left out, so I yoinked Audrey's lappy and now I'm blogging about blogging. With beer: Lucky Lab's delicious Scottish Holiday Ale -- cask conditioned to boot! Mmm, room temperature and flat. Yum!

That is all.

#4. Changeling

2008-01-20T20:23:00.000-08:00

2008.04 - Changeling, Roger Zelazny (1980)

I have read 3 or 4 Zelazny books, and enjoyed them on the whole: sci-fi with wry tricks and usually a good sense of humor. Having liked his previous books, I was surprised to find Changeling to be such a - well it's just not a very good book.

It's "sci-fi-fantasy," for lack of a better descriptor, and has as its plot a switched-at-birth scenario involving a wizard from a world of magic and an engineer's son from something like a near-future over-technologized earth. You know the first guy is a wizard because he comes from Wizard World (I'm not making this up - Wizard World is also the name of the edition I have, which also contains the sequel to Changeling - I am frankly stunned there was ever a sequel). The second guy, who actually lives in Wizard World, is an engineer by birth, I suppose, and invents robots that can fly by the time he's 20 years of age.

The plot isn't important though, because the dialogue, pacing, action, character development...all of it is simply awful.

I sheepishly admit to you now that I only made it about 3/4 of the way through Changeling before I had to put it down. Utterly uninspiring, it seems to have been written in a weekend (a really boring weekend), and I just can't force myself to read another word.

Sorry Roger: I will read other of your stuff, but this one, I just can't do it.

#3. In the Flesh

2008-01-16T19:58:00.000-08:00

2008.03 - In the Flesh, Clive Barker (1986)

When I was a kid I liked to watch scary movies and read scary books. My favorite authors were Stephen King & Clive Barker, with a little H.P. "Sauce" Lovecraft on the side. At some point I either grew bored with it, or more likely I grew bored with reading in general, and there are a few books I'd bought that I never got around to reading. Being the pack rat that I am, though, I kept them, never really intending to read them.

Such a book is In the Flesh, a collection of Barker short stories that has sat unread on the bookshelves of my teens and college years and into the Portland Period of my life. I estimate this book has been with me for close to 20 years, and it wasn't until two days ago that I decided to open it for the first time.

The first story, which lends its name to the collection, was plodding and predictable and not very exciting, and my first thought was "Oh, now I remember why I stopped reading this stuff." Curious choice on the publisher's part, I think, to put the weakest story first and name the book after it. After that though the stories become more natural and interesting, and the book overall is a good one.

The themes are familiar to anyone who's read Barker (who wrote the novella Hellbound Heart, and also wrote and directed the film based upon it, Hellraiser; and, oddly, is scripting a Hellraiser remake): ordinary people, typically downtrodden or outcast, become inadvertently involved in spooky matters of occult and magic and demonology. Against their best intentions and better judgment, these poor souls are eventually captured or seduced by the dark forces, and either annihilated or somehow or other integrated into them.

Just like Pinhead from Hellraiser, yeah?

As I said, the themes are familiar even if the details are not. One story, the puzzlingly-titled but effectively creepy "The Forbidden," is the basis for the movie Candyman, which I remember being pretty good (watched it as a kid). The last tale, "Babel's Children," actually does veer somewhat from the model, and isn't a horror tale at all, but some kind of parable about world politics involving bearded nuns and senile men playing with frogs.

After my initial disappointment, I started to get into the stories, and remembered why I used to like Barker so much; still do, in fact. All the blurbs you ever see on his books are either "He's the next Stephen King!" or else it's King himself saying, "He's the next me!" But I don't think that comparison holds much water, beyond the fact of their both being bestselling horror writers. King, say what you will, is a master of characterization and the reproduction of pop-culture, and his horror stories are made more scary because of it (i.e., one feels a greater identification with a doomed protagonist if said protagonist is realistic).

Barker's stories remind me less of King than they do H.P. Lovecraft: spooky, otherworldly, demonology-y, with characters who often have no more emotional depth than some sidekick on Buffy. Intriguing, quite often; gross, absolutely; but not always scary (to his credit Barker is a better reporter on humans, at least on a tactile level, than Lovecraft - which is to say Barker's characters sometimes like to get drunk and fuck, as it were). There's also a strong similarity between the movies adapted from their books: Rawhead Rex, From Beyond, Hellraiser, Re-Aminator -- lots of gory and splattery good times.

Clive Barker has written some very fine books and stories, and In the Flesh contains a couple of them. If you're looking for a brief trip into fantasy/horror, with tentacled monsters and other yucky stuff, this little collection could fit the bill.

Help protect Zappa's legacy from Zappa's family

2008-01-16T12:43:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me knows I'm strenuously in love with the music of Frank Zappa. From my early college days, when a friend of mine turned me on to "We're Only In It For The Money" (how ironic that title seems now), I've been rabid in my pursuit of every bit of Zappanalia I could find (this includes all of his many official releases, which number somewhere above 70, and any bootlegs as well). I like his early "comedy music," his rock 'n roll, his jazz fusion, his classical, even his heavy-handed 1980s political music.

It is true: I am a Frank Zappa Fanatic.

Moreso lately, though: I am a Frank Zappa Fanatic with a growing distaste for Frank Zappa's Wife Gail.

Gail Zappa has long been fiercly protective of Frank's intellectual property (as Frank himself was during his truncated life), and is very stingy when it comes to allowing bands to perform his work, etc. I saw a show in Tampa, FL sometime around 1997 featuring the Florida Orchestra, former Zappa lead vocalist Napoleon Murphy Brock, and a Zappa cover band called Bogus Pomp. It was considered a rare success at that time that the show was even allowed to go on, such was Gail's miserliness when it came to performances of FZ's music.

Lately this miserliness has been extended even to fan websites, constructed with only the intention of preserving the legacy of Frank's music and career. We're talking about people who love Frank Zappa, and want to come together and geek out about him, and share that love with the world.

Viz., the website Kill Ugly Radio (named for the artwork/meme from Zappa's second album "Absolutely Free" and subsequently a very nice beer from Lagunitas Brewing), which has a discography, wiki and a blog, and is generally a very active Zappa fan congregation. Last December, the Zappa Family Trust (which owns and distributes all of FZ's work) sent an email to Kill Ugly Radio, accusing them of copyright infringements and demanding they essentially remove all FZ content from their site.

And KUR wasn't selling bootlegs or anything; their crime? They'd reproduced lyrics and album artwork and old interview transcriptions on their site for other Zappa fans to come drool over. They're not making money off this. They're spreading the love of all things Zappa, and the Zappas themselves are demanding that they stop.

I don't know if this is a free speech issue, I don't know much about copyright law, and I don't know why reprinting an old magazine interview should be a crime. I do know that I love Frank Zappa, and it is my opinion that Gail Zappa is seriously misguided in these efforts (which, as I've said, have been ongoing since Zappa's death in 1993, and even before).

So, I signed the petition that Kill Ugly Radio has set up to get Gail off their backs. And if you are also a Zappa fan, or a fan of Free Speech (yeah, yeah, I said I didn't know if it were really a free speech issue, but it's fun to toss around the phrase in an attempt to garner support), you should think about signing it too. And if you're not a Zappa fan, let me know and I will burn you a free bootlegged copy of almost any of his CDs (tee hee! just kidding! maybe!!).

#2. American Psycho

2008-01-14T18:10:00.000-08:00

2008.02 (DBC) - American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis (1991)

Not a book for the faint of heart, American Psycho is a fast-paced, disturbing look at the apex of capitalist culture in late 1980s Wall Street, as personified by a shallow and horribly sadistic investment banker/serial killer named Patrick Bateman (who serves as the narrator of the book).

You will see this book described as everything from misogynist manifesto, to satire of American materialism, to a peek into the mind of a depraved lunatic, to extended post-modernist thought experiment. All are possibly correct, but I think the book is more important as a stylized work of art than as a means to convey some sort of heavy message about consumerism or gender relations. In fact, the "heavy message" tends to get a little "heavy-handed" by the end of the book, and most of the real enjoyment is in the black humor/satire surrounding a group of wealthy, young cokeheads and their apparently inane lives, and the deftness with which the author manipulates his narrator through reality and surreality.

Most of the critical analyses I found online (such as they are) dealt mainly with the question of whether the violence in the book is real or not; whether it all exists in Bateman's head or if he is in fact in the midst of a grisly killing spree. Without going into too much detail, I'll just say that I disagree very strongly with those who maintain that the entire thing is a fantasy in the narrator's mind.

To be sure the narrator is supposed to be a psychotic, and the author does a great job of showing that through the writing: Bateman has outright hallucinations; he experiences things that cannot actually happen (especially as the book progresses and his psychosis becomes more intense); and his recountings of his sexual and murderous deeds are bombastic and hyperbolic. There are plot points one can use to support one or the other view: that the violence (and indeed the entire plot) is either true or all a fantasy.

It does a disservice to the impact of the book, it renders the entire thing meaningless, if we just posit Bateman as some kind of latter-day Walter Mitty, having horrible but ultimately impotent fantasies. I do think many of the scenes are exaggerated, as a function of Bateman's insanity, but this is true of every apect of the book, from his conversations with coworkers to his arguments with the dry cleaners to his murders. (I also think that people may be giving themselves a sort of "out," a way to admit to enjoying the book despite the unbelievable violence, if they can just say "Well it was all a dream" at the end.)

And really, at the end of the day, we're talking about a novel here; a work of fiction. Whether the main character is imagining it, or if he really is doing those things, it would be pointless and a little bit insincere to justify my enjoyment of the book if I say that it's a fantasy-within-a-fantasy and so the violence isn't real (i.e., it wasn't real to begin with).

Where Ellis really shines is in creating a character who is both wholly believable and utterly bizarre. Patrick Bateman is an unredeemable nihilist, devoid of anything like compassion or pity, and capable of the most foul acts (part of what was so shocking to me reading the book was the ease with which Bateman commits his torture/murders - he is just as casual about ordering a bottle of wine as he is eviscerating someone).

Bateman has a pathological mania for expensive/quality clothing, food, furniture, women, etc. He has an encyclopedic ability to identify the designer and material of every article of clothing worn by himself or his contemporaries (and he does this every time he encounters another person), yet often is unable recognize the person wearing them or distinguish one coworker from another. He can recite by rote the technical specs of a high-end stereo he just purchased; but he might not even know the name of the person - nominally a friend - to whom he's describing it! All of this combines to give us a wholly singular protagonist (if one can use that word to describe the man), who is at once fascinating and repellent, believable and fantastical.

I enjoyed American Psycho, but I don't think I'd be able to read it a second time. Ellis is an obviously talented writer, and I will pick up another of his books; but this is definitely a one-off deal. I would recommend the book, because it's well done and very clever; but I would not recommend it to everyone: not to my Mom, for instance.

Thank You, The Onion

2008-01-10T10:03:00.000-08:00

Today's Wondermark has an amusing commentary on The Daily Show and its impact on some people's political awareness (or lack thereof). Obviously the Comedy Central show is not "real" news or analysis; as Jon Stewart himself often insists, it's just comedy (reminiscent of the late, great Bill Hicks, telling a caller during his appearance on Austin City Limits sometime around 1990, who had asked Hicks' opinion of the Israeli-Palestinian hatefest [to paraphrase]: "I find it a little sad that people are asking me, a comedian, about this shit").

No, I don't get my news from The Daily Show. But on the other hand...I do? Honestly, folks, if it weren't for the existence of what small bits of satire we do have, I wouldn't be able to look at any news without going completely mental. I can take maybe 3 minutes of CNN before I want to break down and sob, and it's about to the point that I won't even read the paper every day because of the horrible nonsense in it. Satire specifically, and comedy in general -- and I don't have any science to back this up but I maintain it's veracity -- are crucial for my psychic and social well-being. Perhaps this is related to the banal adage: "It's funny because it's true," and comedy helps us see the bitter truth behind the bullshit. Perhaps; but more likely it's just an escapist salve, and I make no apologies for my escapism.

So I watch The Daily Show and Colbert Report (when I can stay awake that late); I listen to stand-up comics like Patton Oswalt (not entirely satire but very funny) and Bill Hicks (currently the holder of the greatest stand-up ever, having taken that distinction from Lenny Bruce); I read comics like Wondermark and Dinosaur Comics; and of course I read The Onion.

Which brings me to the very reason I'm writing this post, to share with you what I think has got to be the best Onion editorial ever written. I met Jimmy Carter a few years ago at a book signing here in downtown Portland (and by "met" I mean "stood in front of him while he signed my book"), and it was a pretty cool experience. I was too young to remember the Carter administration, but I've enjoyed following his post-presidency career, and have always admired him and his achievements (Nobel Peace Laureate, founder of Habitat for Humanity, etc.). He's an amazing guy and someone I consider a national treasure. By contrast, and surely I'm not alone in this opinion, the current state of politics in this country gives me exactly zero reasons to feel optimistic, and many reasons to feel depression, rage, apathy and stupefaction.

With that in mind, you'll understand why I find this piece "by" Carter so great, so...fucking great. To select just one small snippet:

Gee, I wonder what woulda happened if we'd all switched to solar power like I fucking did back when we had a fucking chance to do something about it. Think we'd still be sucking Saudi Arabia's dick like a five-dollar whore? I sure as fuck didn't get no fancy Oscar for that little spiel, though, did I? No. But Al Gore, that cum-sucking pig, steals the shit from me and now he's the greatest thing since Jesus Christ made a fucking sandwich.

To again invoke Bill Hicks: "That's poetry, friends."

If you don't already make The Onion a regular stop on your daily internetting, I urge you to do so. You know, for your mental health. Enjoy.

I Got What America Needs Right Here

Sometimes I'm a little stupid, maybe, a little slow in the head, so I'm wondering if you can help me get something straight....

#1. Eric

2008-01-05T12:06:00.000-08:00

2008.01 - Eric, Terry Pratchett (1990)

I am tempted to say that reading Discworld novels is like a palate cleanser between more 'serious' books. While in a way I do read them for that purpose, it would be a disservice to Terry Pratchett to label his books mere fluff and ignore what is an undeniable talent for satire, slapstick and humor in general. Even a very short book like Eric (or Faust Eric, as it's written on the masthead) contains plenty of great laughs and sly social commentary.

Eric isn't the best Discworld book, and it probably won't change your life (or who knows, it might?); but it's a fun little trip with human sacrifice, Trojan Horses, time and space, and finally Hell itself. Fun times!

Book Log 2008

2008-01-05T12:02:00.000-08:00

Verily, yea and hear ye! Books!

I said "Books!" again!

Specifically the Log of the Books that Lucas did Read in 2008, which is as follows:

#43. Dr. Futurity, Phililp K. Dick
#42. Hunting the Tiger, Christopher S. Stewart
#41. Feet of Clay, Terry Pratchett
#40. Maskerade, Terry Pratchett
#39. Pnin, Vladimir Nabokov (DBC)
#38. I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
#37. The Hard Life, Flann O'Brien
#36. Interesting Times, Terry Pratchett
#35. Soul Music, Terry Pratchett
#34. Goodbye, Columbus, Philip Roth
#33. Flight, Sherman Alexie
#32. Filth, Irvine Welsh (DBC)
#31. Lords and Ladies, Terry Pratchett
#30. Timbuktu, Paul Auster (DBC)
#29. Cancer Ward, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (DBC)
#28. Imperial Earth, Arthur C. Clarke
#27. Strange Wine, Harlan Ellison
#26. Watchmen, Alan Moore
#25. At Swim-Two-Birds, Flann O'Brien (DBC)
#24. Flashman, George MacDonald Fraser
#23. Witches Abroad, Terry Pratchett
#22. Men At Arms, Terry Pratchett
#21. Lucky Jim, Kingsley Amis (DBC)
#20. One Few Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
#19. Fortress of Solitude, Jonathan Lethem
#18. Small Gods, Terry Pratchett
#17. Father to the Stars, Philip José Farmer
#16. Winesburg, Ohio, Sherwood Anderson (DBC)
#15. Cloughie, Brian Clough
#14. Player Piano, Kurt Vonnegut
#13. Galactic Pot-Healer, Philip K. Dick
#12. My Life as a Fake, Peter Carey (DBC)
#11. Moving Pictures, Terry Pratchett
#10. Rendezvous With Rama, Arthur C. Clarke
#9. Oil!, Upton Sinclair (DBC)
#8. The Anatomy of Peace, The Arbinger Institute
#7. The Stars, Like Dust, Isaac Asimov
#6. The Painted Bird, Jerzy Kosinski (DBC)
#5. Tar Baby, Toni Morrison
#4. Changeling, Roger Zelazny
#3. In the Flesh, Clive Barker
#2. American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis (DBC)
#1. Eric, Terry Pratchett

(If you like, read my earlier book reviews from 2006 and, to a lesser extent 2007).

A Year of Books - 2007

2008-01-02T17:48:00.000-08:00

I intended to keep a log of every book I read last year, and write up a little review for each one as I finished (the same way I did in 2006). Something happened along the way; the same something that often happens to similar endeavors: I got lazy.

To be fair, I did start writing another blog this year. In July I took over the Sunderland blog for The Offside soccer blog website, and I've been pretty good about keeping it updated I think (roughly 2 posts per week). But that doesn't explain why my own blog - this very space, dear readers - had lain nigh on dormant for months even before that. I have no excuse beyond the tried and true: I got lazy.

Anyway, my intention is to pick up in 2008 where I left off in 2006: I will write a blog post for every book I finish this year, with a review of indeterminate length (I may have a whole college essay type thing, or it may just be two sentences). In anticipation of that, here is a list of all the books I read in 2007, in the order that I read them. I'm including No Country For Old Men in '07 since I started it last weekend, even though I finished it about an hour ago (1/2/08). Cheers, and I hope you enjoy the next year of my book reviews.

Luke's 2007 books:

1 - Soul on Ice, Eldridge Cleaver
2 - Entered From the Sun, George Garrett
3 - Bloodsucking Fiends, Christopher Moore
4 - The Lurker at the Threshold, August Derleth/H.P. Lovecraft
5 - Dune, Frank Herbert
6 - Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert
7 - Ask the Dust, John Fante
8 - Puppet Masters, Robert Heinlein
9 - Children of Dune, Frank Herbert
10 - Wise Guy, Nicholas Pileggi
11 - God Emperor of Dune, Frank Herbert
12 - Cat's Cradle, Kurt Vonnegut
13 - Fluke, Christopher Moore
14 - A Wild Sheep Chase, Haruki Murakami
15 - The Tomb and Other Tales, H.P. Lovecraft
16 - The Pianoplayers, Anthony Burgess
17 - Stormy Weather, Dave Barry
18 - The Eyes of Heisenberg, Frank Herbert
19 - Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys
20 - Franny and Zooey, J.D. Salinger
21 - Dune Heretics, Frank Herbert
22 - Long Ago in France: The Years In Dijon, MFK Fisher
23 - Have Space Suit -- Will Travel, Robert Heinlein
24 - The Sheltering Sky, Paul Bowles
25 - Going Postal, Terry Pratchett
26 - Protector, Larry Niven
27 - The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoff
28 - The Double, José Saramago
29 - Querelle of Brest, Jean Genet
30 - Stardust, Neil Gaiman
31 - Roadmarks, Roger Zelazny
32 - Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, Theodore Dreiser
33 - Our Man in Havana, Graham Greene
34 - All Tomorrow's Parties, William Gibson
35 - Thud!, Terry Pratchett
36 - Snow Country, Yasunari Kawabata
37 - A Canticle For Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller Jr.
38 - Destination: Void, Frank Herbert
39 - I, Claudius, Robert Graves
40 - Mort, Terry Pratchett
41 - Alone Against Tomorrow, Harlan Ellison
42 - The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera
43 - Wyrd Sisters, Terry Pratchett
44 - King Rat, China Mieville
45 - Hunger, Knut Hamsun
46 - Eye in the Sky, Philip K. Dick
47 - Pyramids, Terry Pratchett
48 - No Country For Old Men, Cormack McCarthy

Vegas, Baby!

2007-11-16T10:36:00.000-08:00

...and Arizona, Baby too.

Today is started to piss rain here in Portland. It's been a fairly dry autumn thus far, but it would appear the rains are finally here. With that in mind, Audrey and I will fly tomorrow morning to spend a week in the glorious arid southwest.

In what has become a Thanksgiving tradition for us since my family moved out west from Florida (for which I am profoundly happy), we will spend a few days in the northern Arizona desert with the family, and a few days in Sin City, USA, a.k.a. Las Vegas.

I've got my good luck charms all shined up, I've got my lucky numbers all catalogued in my pea sized brain, I know which casinos have the best cocktail service, and I've got a short list of the teams I want to bet on. Now to wait out the next 24 hours until I can put all of my grand schemes into play.

In addition to casinos and fancy dinners in Vegas, we're going to spend a couple of days meandering down Route 66 in Arizona from Seligman to Oatman. Ghost towns, haunted hotels, and historic, um, barbershops. I am ready for some Wild West Moseying.

The theme of the trip is Luck, my friends. Wish us luck: that we win big at the tables in downtown Vegas; that we aren't bitten by rattlesnakes in downtown Peach Springs, and that we manage to retain our sanity after spending a night in Laughlin, Nevada (a.k.a. Sin City if you're over 70).

Harlan Ellison

2007-10-30T09:34:00.000-07:00

After having had him recommended to me a number of times as an important sci fi writer, and someone I must read, I recently picked up a book of short stories by Harlan Ellison, called Alone Against Tomorrow: Stories of Alienation in Speculative Fiction.

I'm liking it very much thus far - very heady, almost psychedelic stuff, creepy and scary, well-written, emotionally explosive - but the subtitle should have clued me in to what the clip below confirms: he doesn't like being called a "sci fi" writer. Understandably, he was concerned about his rep as an author, and wanted the same respect and opportunities, both critical and commercial, as mainstream writers.

One quote of his, though, which comes just a few seconds into the clip (which, by the way, contains some really sweet 1980 hair and clothing) puzzles me:

"...there are no rocketships in my stories, there are no giant monsters..."

Um. I'm only into the third story in Alone Against Tomorrow, and there have been: one world-eating computer, one ultrasized bird capable of creating hurricanes with its flapping wings, and one space ship full of genetic mutants. Not that I don't understand where he's coming from, but there are in fact rocketships and giant monsters in his stories.

In any case, I'm glad I picked it up. If you like psychological/psychedelic sci fi with a horror bent (at least the first story, I have no mouth. And I must scream is pretty terrifying), give it a shot.

USLD1 Attendance - 2007

2007-09-24T12:46:00.000-07:00

[for 2008 attendance, click here]

The USL Division 1 Playoffs started on September 14, with the top 8 of 12 teams making it. The most notable thing about this season's playoff attendances are Portland and Puerto Rico far exceeding their regular season crowds. Historically teams draw fewer fans in the post season, so kudos to the Timbers and Islanders for such impressive numbers. On the opposite end were new rivals Rochester and Carolina, who boast impressive numbers (Carolina esp. for being an expansion team), but who drew extremely poorly in their playoff games.

The final will be in Tukwila, Washington, where the Atlanta Silverbacks will play the Seattle Sounders. The venue, Starfire Sports Soccer Complex, boasts an attendance capacity of 2000, leaving this blogger puzzled how they were then able to announce a crowd of 3107 for their semifinal win there over the Islanders. I'm also more than a little disappointed (though not surprised) that the USL is going to have their Champtionship Final in a rec/youth soccer field. It is a decent venue, and I have enjoyed many Timbers vs Sounders matches there (overall it far exceeds Qwest Field), but it's embarrassing that the final will be held at a rec field in the suburbs in front of 2000 people.

Here are the attendance numbers through the semifinals on Sept 21 & 23:

**USL Division 1 2007 Playoff Attendance**
Team	Home Games	Total Att.	Avg. Att.
Montreal Impact	1	10217	10217
Portland Timbers	2	20401	10201
Puerto Rico Islanders	2	18210	9105
Vancouver Whitecaps	1	4761	4761
Rochester Raging Rhinos	1	4294	4294
Seattle Sounders	2	6747	3374
Atlanta Silverbacks	2	4274	2137
Carolina RailHawks	1	923	923

**Regular Season Attendance**

The Timbers pulled 15833 to their final regular season game of the season, a 1-0 victory August 23 vs Charleston; it's the highest attendance in modern team history, highest in the league this season, and one of the highest in league history - to lift their average to a very respectable 6828.

The California Victory closed their inaugural season September 8 with a 2-0 loss to co-expansion Carolina RailHawks, handing the Cary, NC side the 8th spot in the playoffs. The attendance was announced at 1906, which is also the name of the loyal supporters group. Nice touch, I thought.

**USL Division 1 2007 Attendance: Final Rankings**
Team	Home Games	Total Att.	Avg. Att.
Montreal Impact	14	154497	11036
Rochester Raging Rhinos	14	130700	9336
Portland Timbers	14	95592	6828
Vancouver Whitecaps	14	72264	5162
Carolina RailHawks	14	71735	5124
Puerto Rico Islanders	14	66143	4725
Charleston Battery	14	55550	3968
Seattle Sounders	14	46545	3325
Minnesota Thunder	14	44110	3151
Atlanta Silverbacks	14	36003	2572
California Victory	14	15619	1116
Miami FC	14	12828	916

Oh, 'Noles...

2007-09-03T20:45:00.001-07:00

My Florida State Seminoles began their season tonight by losing to Clemson. They made a nice comeback attempt from 24-3 in the 3rd quarter, but the hole was too deep and there were too many mental mistakes. Drew Weatherford is a 3rd year starter, and made some nice throws to get the Noles back to 24-18. But he was absolutely lost late when it mattered, taking sacks at the absolute worst times. Not an encouraging sign.

From what I saw, FSU looks a little better than the complete disaster that was 2006 (though the number of penalties is troubling); but a loss is a loss, and this one hurts doubly being a conference game. They're already playing from behind in a tough ACC; with 3 of their final 4 games being at Boston College, at Virginia Tech, and at florida, they need to get it together and soon. I cannot bear another 6-loss season.

Salves for Rage

2007-08-02T10:49:00.001-07:00

I share with you some of the things that are helping to dampen the undying rage I feel right now, as a result of the Timbers godawful loss to the team from up north last night.

Kitties, duckies, cartoons, more kitties and other critters, and a game.

If you have any more, please share them...

Portland's Got a Brand New Mustache!

2007-07-25T15:17:00.000-07:00

The Portland Timbers today announced the signing of former MLS'er Matt Taylor, who spent the past three seasons with Kansas City and Chivas USA (who released him in June in a cost-cutting move). No idea how good the kid is (he has one goal in 11 appearances for Chivas this season, all off the bench), but consider the following:

A) the other new players we picked up this season from MLS (Leonard Griffin from Chicago and Cameron Knowles from Salt Lake) have both been spectacular for us, and

B) Taylor played with Tommy-Gun Poltl at Orange County Blue Star (PDL) and at UCLA with Scot Thompson and Leo, winning a title in 2002.

Plus he's got bitchin' facial hair stylings! Welcome to Stumptown, Matt!

Heard in CPR Training

2007-07-10T18:15:00.001-07:00

"If someone vomits in your mouth, you're not going to want to do anything the rest of the day."

Indeed.

Overheard On the Bus

2007-07-09T13:06:00.000-07:00

Woman [applying liquid to temples]: This is aromatherapy. It comes from ancient...aromatherapy.

Man [scooting close]: Oh?

Woman: I don't care for Western Medicine. It has its place, but Western Medicine's answer to everything is "take a pill."

When Two Wins Feel Like Two Big Fat Wins

2007-07-02T23:21:00.001-07:00

After a very disappointing loss to the seattle sounders in the US Open Cup last Tuesday, the Portland Timbers shook it off and nabbed two victories from the jaws of mediocrity this weekend.

On Thursday David Hague scored in the 89th minute against the expansion California Victory to give Portland the win 1-0 in their first ever game in San Francisco. It was a pretty miserable game, especially the 2nd half, but Hague picked up his first professional goal (and Josh Wicks his first pro assist!) and 3 big points for the Green and White. A bunch of us were at Slabtown watching it on a laptop on a projection screen tv (ooh la la, technology!).

Saturday night the Timbers returned home to play Miami FC, a team we had never beaten (in their one year of existence). Again the Timbers played down to their opposition and had to rely on another late goal - this time by Lawrence Olum, 3 minutes into in stoppage time, also his first as a pro - to gain another 1-0 win. Madness in the shed, hooray huzzah, we love our lads.

And we're off to San Francisco this weekend for more Timbers action, vs. the ironically named Victory.

Fambly

2007-06-27T19:21:00.001-07:00

I share this with you people because I love you.

My Sister and Me

in 1981:

in 2006:

Dear god have mercy on our fragile souls.

When a Draw Feels Like a Loss

2007-06-21T23:34:00.000-07:00

Portland Timbers drew 1-1 with league powerhouse Montreal Impact tonight (Thursday June 21 2007) in PGE Park. When I write that sentence my reflex is to write "Timbers lose to..." because it was such a gut-punch way for the game to end. Timbers' Dombrowski scores in the 85th minute to put the good guys up 1-0. I think several of my internal organs ruptured in the ensuing 60 seconds of celebration...following which Montreal scored to tie the game. We had some agonizingly close chances in stoppage time, but the game ended even.

Harsh. 4 points from Montreal this season is good, I know; but, harsh.

Close Encounter of the Turd Kind

2007-06-08T12:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday after my friend and I stepped off the bus, we were waiting to cross the street. There were two guys crossing toward us, oblivious to traffic. A car beeped as it nearly hit one of them, whereupon the other turned and screamed "Shut up!"

These were the kind of guys you can tell right away are derelicts, homeless, crackheads, whatever; whether it's their Pigpen-from-Peanuts layer of grime, the bewildered manner of their gait and carriage, or just that special something in their eyes. You see them get on the bus, or when you walk around a corner downtown, and you know immediately that if you make eye contact the chances are good they're going to beg you for booze money.

As the yelling one approached the curb where we stood, he caught my eye and held out his hand. Maybe 40 years old, greasy brown hair and beard, gutter-style clothing. "Let me introduce myself, my name is Scott," he said, and I looked at his hand, at the filthy bandaid on his index finger, and said, "Sorry I ain't got anything for you."

He took half a step back, his eyes focused momentarily and he said, "Have I asked you for anything?"

"Not yet."

At which point he lurched forward and screamed "Shut up!" again, in my face.

I put up my hands and turned away, wondering why I continue to sometimes feel like a shitheel when beggars ask me for money. I never give them anything, buy my damned conscience refuses to allow me to wholly regard them as the human-shaped turds that they are.

I'm not saying I'm some candidate for Humanitarian of the Year; I'm just saying that while most of me wishes I'd had a length of pipe to smash into his face, or feels secret satisfaction that he has to eat dead rats under the Burnside Bridge to stay alive another wretched day, or even hopes that the next time he wanders into traffic it's a MAX train that cannot stop in time...well, there's a part of me that feels sorry for the human-shaped turd, and wishes he weren't living like he is, on the street, begging for everything, waiting for death to release him from his miserable existence. Mostly though I just don't want him touching me or begging me for money.

I'm probably dwelling too much; it was just a crazy homeless druggie doing his thing. Poor Scott just wanted to introduce himself, right? I'm such a jerk for even mentioning it.

The end of the end of the week

2007-06-03T18:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's barbecue was a good time, the weather was fine, and I'm glad we went. Today I finally got the relaxation I wanted, as Audrey and I spent the day doing not a whole lot. We did check out a craft fair in some bar on east Burnside; the bar itself was nice (Rontom, strange name, decent space), but it was not my scene really (hipster grrls, for the most part). There were some interesting items for sale, and the vibe of the room generally was a good one.

Otherwise there's been more grilling (at long last we made use of our new cheapo grill we got Friday), more staying cool (two fans are better than one, but it's still dumb hot), and a whole lot of lazying.

Work week in T-minus tomorrow.

Books!

2007-06-03T18:16:00.000-07:00

The following is not a paid advertisement.

I have wanted to catalogue my books, music and movies for quite some time. A regular spreadsheet seemed like a pain in the ass, but I wanted some way to store all the info in a sortable, searchable way. Audrey told me recently about a website called LibraryThing.com, and this weekend I tried it. It's awesome.

I think it falls under the aegis of what Audrey would call 'connectivity,' or perhaps 'Web 2.0.' I have no idea, but it is a cool site. If you look to your right, you will see my 'author cloud.' Ooh, a cloud. It's also got a spot on each book page for reviews, where they encourage you to post a link to your blog or wherever. I've spent a few hours today and yesterday hauling stacks of books into the office to key in the ISBN numbers, etc. One of my favorite features is the author gallery; not only are some of the picture choices totally bizarre (Frank Herbert's high school yearbook picture?), but it's also funny to see odd pairings like Edward Gibbon next to William Gibson, and this picture of Isaac Asimov is just totally bomb:

If you are at all a nerd for books (for instance, if you would ever use the words "Isaac Asimov" and "totally bomb" in the same sentence), I encourage you to check out this site and look around. Now I just need to find/convince Audrey to create comparable websites for DVDs and CDs...

The beginning of the end of the week

2007-06-02T08:42:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was the end of a short week, but one which seemed very long; it was a week which itself followed a long weekend which seemed eternal.

It went like this: friends from England came for a visit over Memorial Day weekend, which included two Timbers games, two barbecues, one night of karaoke and massive volumes of alcohol consumed all around. The Timbers got 4 points on the weekend, and we had great times with our compadres from across Ye Olde Ponde. Memorial Day itself was a day of rest and knitting (figuratively knitting my weary body, and literally knitting some Timbers scarves).

The week then started (Tuesday is the new Monday) and went fairly smoothly; I'm getting more comfortable at my new job, starting to feel a real part of the group there. Thursday rolls around, which normally means I meet up with a few friends after work to watch soccer at the Triple Nickel. Well, no game this week, that means no going out, right? Not so fast, beer breath. One of the English fellows was still in town, and due to leave on Friday afternoon. Naturally we all had to take him out and give him a proper sendoff, which began, perhaps appropriately for a Thursday evening, at the Triple Nickel, and which ended many hours later at Union Jack's. Without going into gory details, I overdid it a bit in the bidding farewell to my friend department, and as a result my Friday morning was, shall I say, less than beautiful. I made it through the day, though, and had a nice evening with a few friends grilling and chilling (no singing, no screaming, no power drinking, just...nice).

Today is Saturday, and there are a number of games on television that I would really like to watch: US vs. China (men's soccer); Cleveland Cavaliers vs. Detroit Pistons (NBA conference semifinals, LeBron emerging into superstardom); and DC United vs. Los Angeles Galaxy (MLS). Oh won't this be nice, a mellow relaxing Saturday! Not so fast again, burger breath. Audrey's Grandparents are today celebrating their 50th Wedding Anniversary, out in rural Washington where they live. So it's into the car we go, out I-84 through the lovely Columbia River Gorge, and into the peaceful little town of Trout Lake for a day of family style shenanigans. Maybe I'll get back in time to watch the end of the basketball game and then the MLS game, maybe not. Audrey has mentioned perhaps going downtown to check out the Starlight Parade; maybe, maybe not. Alas! the planning for my Saturday is given over to the Fates, and I must allow them to guide me will-I nill-I.

It is shaping up to be yet another beautiful day. Whatever happens, happens, and with Audrey by my side I'm sure I'll enjoy myself.

Cosmetics are for Womyn

2007-05-30T08:54:00.001-07:00

I'm in a funk. I need to dust off my old brain and get it revving again. One thing I don't do enough of is write; last time I checked, blogging counts as writing. So I'm going to try to get at least a little something (something-something?) into this space every day. Hopefully this leads to less rust in my head, and more - whatever the conceptual opposite of rust is...chrome?

My thought for the day is this:

It makes as much sense to change the spelling of "woman" to "womyn" as it does to change our reckoning of years from BC/AD to BCE/CE. I.e., it makes no sense at all. When you do that, you're not changing the paradigm or any essential meaning (which is the motivation behind the change); all you've done is to put makeup on an ugly word (bad analogy?).

Changing anno domini (lit. "in the year of the lord") to "common era" may change the words, but it doesn't change the fact that we're marking the passage of years based on the birth of some early Roman Empire-era Jewish philosopher. Changing "woman" to "womyn" doesn't even change the word, just the spelling; which makes it, for me, a purely symbolic (and impotent) gesture. I know the use of "womyn" is limited to a pretty narrow segment of the feminist movement, but still. Area man just saying.

Self-Defeating Business Owners

2007-05-14T13:34:00.000-07:00

I believe my comrade in Yog's has mentioned this before, but I find it really irritating and stupid when places don't accept debit cards as payment. They're just throwing business away. I went across the street to get lunch at the Asian-run deli. "Oh no," she said when I presented my bank card, "we don't take cards."

"OK," I said, I'll just get a sandwich from the Asian-run deli across the street who does want my business.

Timbers vs Necaxa

2007-05-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

5.9.07 - Portland Timbers vs Club Necaxa, PGE Park

Mexican Primera side Club Necaxa finished their US tour in Portland last night, losing 1-0 to a team of mostly Timbers reserves. To be fair Necaxa had mostly reserves too, with their "A" team playing tonight in a Copa Libertadores match.

I spent the first half in the shed as usual, but just wasn't feeling it (particularly the mildly off-putting moment when Timber Jim tried to lead us in a rendition of "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" - wtf?); so I left at halftime and had a beer with the 18th Ave folks in the Bullpen. I missed the first four minutes of the second half because my favorite bartender (we'll call him "Mitch") insisted that I order a mac dog. What, you never missed the beginning of the 2nd half of a game because you were getting a beer and a hot dog? I'm pissed I missed Bryan Jordan's goal 40 seconds into the second half. He did a back flip? We have a back flip guy? Damn you Mitch, and your delicious mac dogs!

The view from the fence on 18th was actually really good, with only a little of the field by the east touchline obscured by seats. It was interesting to watch the Timbers from somewhere other than behind the north goal; I could actually follow plays as they developed (mirabile dictu!). The shed sounded good from the fence, as did surprisingly the main stands where the Necaxa supporters were for the most part. Attendance announced at over 7K, which is BS but it was a good crowd nonetheless; I would guess over 5K. To be fair I saw more Chivas shirts than Necaxa, and tons of Tricolor; but they did make some good noise, mostly with El Tri chants I think (at one point chanting "Si se puede!" which I think means "Eat my shorts!" in Spanish).

Met some cool new people at the Bullpen, Mexican fans who don't normally go to Timbers games, if ever. They seemed pleased with the Timbers experience, and I think the team achieved their goal: a decent portion of the Latinos at last night's game will return for Timbers league games. I hope.

Hugo and Jim Taylor were at the Bullpen and it was like 2004 all over again. I cried a little bit. Hugo is still a class act. EXCEPT that he brought some other fucking Flounder into the bar - none other than Nathan Knox (sounds like cocks!) who scored against us on Saturday! No one recognized the guy (I never saw him), but apparently he was nervous about coming in. I expect to see Hugo after the game on Friday, but he better not bring that douche again, or else I'll - what, hold my breath? I'll do something dramatic, you bet.

In closing, Necaxa have cool uniforms, and Brian Hall is, in this order, bald, shit, and having a head with the appearance of a tit.

Dune, Dune Messiah, Children of Dune & God Emperor of Dune

2007-04-19T10:08:00.000-07:00

2007.05 - Dune, Frank Herbert (1965)
2007.06 - Dune Messiah (1969)
2007.09 - Children of Dune (1976)
2007.11 - God Emperor of Dune (1981)

Confession time: I've been on a bit of a Dune freakout lately.

The original Dune is one of my favorite books; it's undoubtedly Herbert's masterpiece, and worthy of it's status as iconic sci-fi work. If you aren't familiar, it's set about 10,000 years in the future, and is a tale of political intrigue, romance, adventure, horror and mysticism, with a messianic bent. The sequels (there are 6, I am on the verge of picking up #5, Dune Heretics), as one might expect, decrease in quality as one gets farther from the original; though Dune Messiah is a very good book, and the other two are worth reading for the Herbert enthusiast (a puzzling thing: I've read all four of these books before; and the first time I read them, I disliked #3, Children of Dune, and liked #4, God Emperor of Dune. For reasons I cannot explain, this time around my opinions are reversed, and I enjoyed Children much more than God Emperor. Hmm.).

If you aren't a sci-fi fan, you should do yourself a favor and read Dune. If your only knowledge of it comes from the Lynch film (which, as readers of Yog's Notebook will know, I hold in high regard), you should still read it. If you've only seen the Sci-Fi Channel version, go scrub your brain with brillo pads to erase the hideous memory, then read the book.

Upheaved

2007-04-18T13:00:00.000-07:00

#1- Audrey just left town to go to San Francisco with her friend Laurie...for a week!! This makes me sad because I'm afraid of the dark and sleeping in a bed by myself. But seriously, she just left 3 minutes ago and I already miss her. Audrey, have fun, stay out of the Tenderloin district, and please come back with all of your fingers and toes.

#2- I gots a job! While Laurie was here to pick up Audrey, I got the call from the place where I interviewed 3 weeks ago, and I start Monday! Hurray! Now I can go to the dentist again! And feel like a productive member of society! And start complaining about my boss!

#3- Today is the 14-year anniversary of my father's death.

Other stuff that doesn't get numbers:

Blazers' last game of the season tonight. I've been to 11 or 12 games this season, and it's been a blast watching this young team find their sea legs. I am excited about the prospect of watching Roy, Aldridge, Rodriguez and co. take it to the western conference next year and make the dang playoffs.

Timbers' first game of the season is Saturday. Team looked pretty good in pre-season, though they played mostly college teams. I'm very interested to see how our new English striker, David Hague, works out. He has been very aggressive and confident in pre-season action, and I look for him to lead us in scoring this year. 8 of the 12 teams in the USL 1st Division will make the playoffs, so it won't be hard for the Timbers to improve on last season's dismal showing (i.e., dead last).

Yog's...Blogbook? Noteblog?

2007-04-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

We have added a blog to the Yog's Notebook realm. The intention here is to have a less dense and more frequent output (weekly posts, as opposed to the quarterly release of the issues proper), in addition to enabling some interaction between readers and Yog Himself (Itself?).

Please visit it at yogsnotebook.com/blog and read all the wonderful things we have to say...which thus far consist only of a short piece I wrote about Kurt Vonnegut, (R.I.P.).

Allergic to Allergies

2007-04-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

Spring is upon my nasal passages, and we have two cats and a messy apartment.

Yay!

The Lurker at the Threshold

2007-03-29T13:06:00.000-07:00

2007.04 - The Lurker at the Threshold, August Derleth/H.P. Lovecraft (1945)

I've been a fan of Lovecraft since I was a kid, reading his weird short stories and playing the Call of Cthulhu rpg with my weird friends. I didn't understand a word of the short stories then, and the game was only fun because of the cool monsters and the guns we used to kill the cool monsters; but I have always considered myself a fan.

I hadn't read any Lovecraft for more than 15 years when I got a bundle of old pulp paperbacks as a gift last Christmas from my one and only Audrey. Aww, how sweet! Included in the bundle was a copy of The Lurker at the Threshold, which has creepy old cover art and the author's name at the top in letters as big as the title: "H.P. Lovecraft" and beneath that is says in tiny letters "with August Derleth."

So I said "Hm" and just ignored that and got to reading, and it wasn't until after I finished the book that I looked around and discovered that H.P. Lovecraft wrote less than two thousand words, and August Derleth wrote the other 50,000. At this point I said "Hm" again, but held the "m" a bit longer, like this: "Hmmmm."

I'm not sure how much it matters that Derleth - who was a disciple of Lovecraft and his work - wrote Lurker instead of Old H.P. Sauce himself, but it did come as a small disappointment to me. The book itself was as enjoyable as any other post-Victorian gothic horror novella, complete with dusty university professors and secret sylvan rites. I suppose looking back and comparing it with the actual writings of Lovecraft, this book "shows" a lot more of the monsters and demons, whereas Lovecraft was fond of writing things like, "Oh, the demon was so hideous that no human mind could grasp it well enough to describe it in writing." And I guess in that sense Derleth is more satisfying, because there's an actual payoff.

Bloodsucking Fiends

2007-03-27T08:53:00.001-07:00

2007.03 - Bloodsucking Fiends, Christopher Moore (2004)

Chris Moore's take on vampires is a fun read with typically ridiculous characters and plenty of blood and guts and explosions and stoned stockboys and blood. Set in San Francisco instead of his usual NorCal milieu of Pine Cove, Bloodsucking Fiends introduces us to a few recurring characters, including the singular Emperor of San Francisco and his corps of doggies. Not as strong as some of his other work, like Lamb or Coyote Blue, Fiends is nevertheless silly and gory enough to entertain. One doesn't read Christopher Moore for acute perceptions into the hearts of humans; one reads Moore for frozen turkey bowling and inept vampire hunters. As it turns out, though, one does occasionally find those acute perceptions couched among all the bombast and goof.

Work blah et cetera

2007-03-22T08:31:00.002-07:00

It's been 2.5 weeks now since I began temping here, and I do like it. Except that there seems to be less and less for me to actually do here, and more than once I've been sent home early. I wouldn't normally mind the chance to get out in the afternoon sunshine - the Spring afternoon sunshine - and enjoy myself, but I've been kind of hoping that this job turns from temp to perm, and I'd like to be as useful as possible between now and when the interview process starts (which is not to mention the obvious dent in income consequent with less hours worked). I suppose I'm a little anxious because it's been nearly a full year since I last had a Real Job, and I feel it's time to settle back into a lifestyle of steady income, dentist visits, free bus passes, and so on.

On the other hand, I'm really not so anxious, because things just don't seem that bad in my life right now. We just got the first issue of Yog's Notebook from the printers last night and it looks great; Audrey has put a lot of effort into this thing, and it has been as preliminarily successful as I would have thought possible. Another thing that's buoyed my spirits against any possible work-related depression is that my tax refund came in the mail last week; so I'm going to blow it on a big neato toy (well, two toys: computer and iPod).

While my immediate future vis-à-vis employment is anything but certain, I do have some proverbial Good Times to look forward to. Timbers season starts in a month, during which Audrey and I plan to take a long trip to Vancouver and two trips to Seattle. We're also going to Seattle (well, SeaTac) next month for a sci-fi convention (where we plan to shill our magazine and crash some room parties). Spring is here and the weather is increasingly fine; I enjoy the winter months as much as anyone, but I also love the change in season (something that didn't really exist in Florida), so I'm happy to see cherry blossoms blossoming and cool blue skies in the morning.

And on a very Now level: I've just had a tasty bagel egg cheese ham thing from the little deli downstairs; my coworkers are all showing up, so there might be something to do, or at least some conversation; the NCAA Sweet 16 begins tonight (my bracket is annihilated, but I'm still a basketball fan); and two good friends are in town tonight, visiting from the frozen wasteland known as Michigan.

Some stuff good, some stuff maybe a little less than good. I'm drinking coffee, so that's good.

Yog Comes Alive!

2007-03-21T09:18:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the Vernal Equinox, Yog's Notebook is on shelves now! Well, it'll be on shelves soon. Soon! In any case, print copies do exist now, and you can get one of your very own for the low, low price of 5 US dollars!

Yog's Notebook is a quarterly sci-fi/horror fiction zine that will blow your socks off. Featured are such diverse elements as: zombies; food; time travelers; children; and more!

Issue # 1 on sale now at yogsnotebook.com/issue1.html - buy it, read it, enjoy it, fall in love all over again. Look for Issue # 2 when the Earth's sun is at its northernmost position in the sky.

Rarr.

negativland

2007-03-11T00:35:00.000-08:00

I'd never seen Negativland perform live, despite having been a fan of them since college. I didn't even realize they were still touring - heck I didn't even know they were still together - when a friend mentioned last week that he was going to see them at the Bagdad Theater here in Portland. The show was an installment of their gonzo "It's all in your head FM" live show (part of their weekly Over the Edge radio program), and it was broadcast by local indie-4-life radio station KBOO. Points to KBOO for airing the show (and for picking up subsequent weekly airings hereafter), and points to Bagdad for hosting the event.

On an artistic level, Negativland is unique. If you're not familiar with their work: they aren't so much a Rock Band as they are three guys who do aural collages with found sound, speeches, movie and music clips, and advertisements, mixed in with some original rock and techno, spoken word, etc. They make effective use of repetition, especially as concerns the speech samples they gather.

Negativland tackles themes of human stupidity in general, and specifically topics like war, avarice, media manipulation, religion, copyright infringement, paranoia and the cheapening of human dignity. They're sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, and sometimes downright creepy; and almost always entertaining.

It was a long show - beginning just after 9pm and running until midnight (with a brief intermission around 10:30) - and the theme was one which fans of the group will recognize as a Negativland staple: monotheism and the manifold problems inherent in modern religion (mostly Christianity and Islam). I was a little disappointed that the entire show would focus on one topic, and it did at times feel like they were harping overlong on certain things. This is one of Negativland's only failings as an artistic endeavor, as I see it; though on the whole they are able to convey their essential message (i.e., how irrational and terrified people are, and the insane things they do as a result), without devolving into arrogant or moralistic preaching.

It was a very entertaining evening, among the highlights of which were: receiving complementary blindfolds, because you're not supposed to see anything, it's radio! I actually closed my eyes at times during the show; watching people flee the theater in pairs after only about 20 minutes - I don't know if they were bored by the lack of visual stimulation, or offended by the content, or both; one of the band members hopping in circles and screeching like a monkey (remember, we're supposed to be wearing blindfolds, so why is he hopping in circles?). They closed the show with "Our God is an Awesome God." Nuff sed.

Soul on Ice (2007.01) & Entered From the Sun (2007.02)

2007-03-07T19:36:00.000-08:00

2007.01 - Soul on Ice, Eldridge Cleaver (1968)

I was excited to read this book - part memoir, part sermon, and part sociological treatise - about the civil rights movement of the 1960s. While there are a few inspired chapters, for the most part it's a self-important and misanthropic rant by the author, a one-time Black Panther and revolutionary who eventually endorsed Ronald Reagan for President. From detailing how he raped black girls in order to practice for when he would rape white girls (most of the book was written while Cleaver was in prison), to lambasting Martin Luther King Jr. as a toothless "Uncle Tom," there's no shortage of despicable, juvenile invective in this book. Racist, homophobic and misogynist, Soul on Ice disappoints at every turn.

2007.02 - Entered From the Sun, George Garrett (1990)

The real treat this book - the third of Garrett's Elizabethan Trilogy - is the author's presentation of the the setting and the language, though the plot is interesting and layered enough to carry the book on it's own. Told as a pair of intersecting character studies (of an old soldier and a down-and-out actor), it deals with the murder of Christopher Marlowe: poet, playwright and contemporary of William Shakespeare (who does appear briefly as a tangential character). If you like richly textured historical fiction written with the modern writer's lack of comedic or sexual inhibition, or if you just like a good political/murder mystery, you will enjoy this book.

Book Log 2007

2007-03-07T19:30:00.000-08:00

2007 is nearly a third of the way gone, so it's high time I got started on my book reviews. Please enjoy Totalnerd's Book Log, Phase Two!

11 - God Emperor of Dune, Frank Herbert
09 - Children of Dune, Frank Herbert
06 - Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert
05 - Dune, Frank Herbert
04 - The Lurker at the Threshold, August Derleth/H.P. Lovecraft
03 - Bloodsucking Fiends, Christopher Moore
02 - Entered From the Sun, George Garrett
01 - Soul on Ice, Eldridge Cleaver

(Can't get enough? Check out my 2006 book reviews.)

Updates on Me and Stuff

2007-03-04T18:58:00.000-08:00

Let's see, what's old Luke been up to lately?

1) I've been working on a sci-fi/horror zine with Audrey; it's called Yog's Notebook, and our first issue will be available this month (our hoped-for publication date is the Spring Equinox). We have t-shirts available, with a super-sweet design made by our friend Katie; if you want to help us cover costs and sport a totally cool logo, you should buy one or eleven. I'm excited about this magazine adventure; I think it could lead to some pretty interesting things.

2) I've been attending a good number of Portland Trailblazers games, some good and some bad. We have a group of very talented, very young players on this team, and though they're still making the typical young-player mistakes, they are showing signs of the great team this could be as early as next season. There's a pretty special core of players in Brandon Roy, LaMarcus Aldridge, and Sergio Rodriguez; lots of Blazers fans are very optimistic about the future at the Rose Garden (and optimism is something that's been in short supply around Rip City the past few years).

3) Timbers season starts in 48 days. Hugo Alcaraz-Cuellar (a.k.a. the 2-time league-leader in assists, and also a.k.a. my erstwhile favorite player) just signed with the Seattle Sounders; so he's, you know, dead to me. Rumor has it that Byron Alvarez might also sign with the scum from up I-5. Oy vey...

4) I start a new job tomorrow; I'm pretty sure it'll be a temp-to-hire position, and it's at a good company where I temped for a few weeks last year. Health insurance, here I come!

5) Based on the news in 4), you might have guessed it already: my job at Wells Fargo ended last week. Nearly 6 months of wretched temp work in a mail room in a cubicle zombie farm; it must be said that I had some very nice people as co-workers, but I am so, so glad to be out of there. Wells Fargo is a disaster, and I would advise anyone reading this to never ever ever do business of any kind with that bank.

6) In general I'm having good times with my best gal and my friends. Watching soccer, bowling, eating sandwiches, watching DVDs, et cetera. I'm still reading copiously, despite the fact that my book review quotient for 2007 has been a big fat empty set. I'm going to pick back up on that, but with a slightly different emphasis: I'm not going to review every book, just the ones I really liked (or which at least inspired some kind of reaction in me), though I will at least name every book I read for this blog. I suppose I would like to read more books this year than I did last year (which was 58), which probably won't be hard since I'm already into my 13th book.

OK that's all for now. Bye.

Book Log 2006 - Wrapup

2007-02-08T17:58:00.000-08:00

Since we're now nearly 40 days and 40 nights into 2007, I think it's about time I finish reviewing the books I read in 2006. In lieu of giving full (or even capsule) reviews, I'll review them in the style so much beloved of my friend Tye. Without further ado:

#48. Doorways in the Sand, Roger Zelazny (1976): really cool
#49. The Long ARM of Gil Hamilton, Larry Niven (1976): not bad
#50. Ringworld Engineers, Larry Niven (1980): pretty cool
#51. Ringworld Throne, Larry Niven (1996): OK
#52. Saturday, Ian McEwan (2005): pretty cool
#53. Our Gang, Philip Roth (1971): pretty cool
#54. Streetlethal, Steven Barnes (1983): so-so
#55. Thief of Time, Terry Pratchett (2001): really cool
#56. Joe, Larry Brown (1991): incredible
#57. Sourcery, Terry Pratchett (1988): really cool
#58: Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, Christopher Moore (2002): excellent

So there you have it. Auf wiedersehen 2006.

I've already got about 8 books in the queue for 2007; my intention is to get caught up by this weekend, so I can get back in the habit of reviewing them as I finish them, the way I did for most of last year.

Tags: literature, Nerd, book reviews

Lean Mean 'Zine Machine

2007-01-29T20:25:00.000-08:00

Audrey and I - which is to say, mostly Audrey - have started a 'zine. "'Zine" is a word that has existed since before Al Gore invented the word "Internet," and is not to be confused with French footballing legend and headbutt artist extraordinaire Zinedine Zidane. 'Zine is short for magazine; I suppose the foreshortening of the word implies some self-declared outre status, separating us from such sellout rags as Time, and National Geographic. In any event, we keeps it reals, y'all.

Our 'zine is called Yog's Notebook, and it's mainly going to be a forum for writings in the sf/fantasy/horror genres (for the uninitiated, "sf" is the term by which Science Fiction fans refer to Science Fiction; in order to sophisticate it and differentiate it from, I suppose, such things as Rocketship X-M, or the writings of Lionel Fanthorpe. E.g., writers like William Gibson and Larry Niven are sf, not Science Fiction. For what it's worth, I prefer the term "sci-fi," but I digress). We'd also like to have a some humor included; any genre of writing is improved by a little humor (our favorite authors include Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams), so Cthulhu willing our little 'zine will have stories that make you laugh while they describe interdimensional demons eating unsuspecting humans in rural Massachusetts.

We're already accepting short story submissions, and plan to have our first issue (both print and online) out in mid-March. As I hinted earlier, Audrey has done nearly every bit of work thus far getting this thing off the ground (viz., setting up the website and garnering it enough attention to already have submissions rolling in the next day). Might I take a wee bit of credit for having recently read an H.P. Lovecraft book, thereby inspiring Audrey to name it after one of Lovecraft's demons, Yog Sothoth? Perhaps Audrey gets the ultimate credit there too, since she bought me the book for Christmas (along with a whole stack of very swell old sci-fi paperbacks). I do plan to do more than just co-editor: I'd like to parley my ongoing experiment with book reviews into some kind of regular column. God knows my creative writing hasn't shown any signs of life since early college; even then the best stuff I wrote was poetry, and I pretty much loathe poetry these days. So I'll be writing essays, reviews, maybe op-ed pieces; I just have to think up a witty title for my column. Something like "Luke Got Hisself A Idea, And Done Wrote About It." I'll work on the title...

If you're interested in sci-fi/fantasy/horror, short fiction, 'zines, etc., please have a look at Yog's Notebook and consider submitting your work, spreading the word, or just buying a copy of our premier issue (sure to be a huge hit on eBay this summer!).

Tags: zine, writing, sf, fantasy, horror, humor, Yog's Notebook

Happy New Year (three weeks ago)

2007-01-18T18:43:00.000-08:00

A new year is upon us. It's that time of year when it's cold out, the days are short (but beginning to get longer once again), and everyone says things to their coworkers like, "Gosh, 2007 huh? Amazing how time flies!" Well, it really isn't amazing anymore, how time flies. But I suppose, yes, it's at least interesting that we're all that much closer to infirmity, isolation and death.

Er. So anyway, a new year is upon us! Hooray! I didn't make any resolutions this New Year, but I do have a few things I do want to take care of in the Two Thousand Seventh Year Of Our Lord. For one, I'd like to continue fulfilling the resolution I made for 2006: i.e., getting a new job. I did manage to quit my long-hated job at The Insurance Company Which Cannot Be Named, but since that time I've been temping. And temping, for all the obvious glitz and glamour and whirlwind of adventure...doesn't include benefits, and I'd really like to go to the doctor and dentist sometime this year. So: getting a new job is one thing We shall take care of, shan't We?

I also want to write more. This blog is currently my primary outlet for writing. So here, for your reading pleasure, is my whopping 2nd blog post of the new year. Speaking of blogs, there's a new Sunderland AFC blog coming out of France, and the proprietor has actually utilized a couple of my pictures in his early posts. Cheers, Colin!

"Writing more" also includes staying diligent on my book reviews. I kind of pooped out at the end of 2006, but I promise promise promise to be better in 2007. First order of business is to wrap up the 8 or 9 books I neglected to review to end the past year (look for capsule reviews this weekend), then to get caught up on the 3 books I've read thus far this year.

I also got a bitchin new digital camera for Christmas (thanks Mom!), so I'll probably be posting more pictures to this blog, and definitely to my flickr account.

So...2007. Yeah. Happy New Year, and I hope all goes well with you, et cetera. I'm off to watch Stephen Colbert host Bill O'Reilley on The Colbert Report (Colbert appeared earlier tonight on the O'Reilley Factor, and to his credit Mr. No Spin Zone played along for the most part). Which reminds me of another of my 2007 Things-to-get-done: Colbert For Prez 2008!

Snowy!

2007-01-16T19:58:00.000-08:00

It snowed in Portland today. "Ho-hum," you're thinking, if you live in the Midwest or New England. But in Portland, Oregon, snow is a big deal, especially if it sticks to the ground (which it did today, to the tune of about 4 inches in our neighborhood).

Before I left for work I heard the announcer on OPB say something about snow in the region, and I thought, "Yeah, yeah, sell me another one." Then I walked outside - without my raincoat - and said, "Oh my, truly it is snowing!" (What I actually said was more like, "Uhh?" but at 6am that's about as articulate as I can get.) I didn't have time to go back for my coat, so I ended up with a beard and ponytail full of the white stuff. Neato.

The bus got me to work just fine, but at 12:30 when they sent us home all I could find was a surly Tri-Met driver who, when I asked what was up, essentially told me to go fuck myself.

But having grown up in a 100% snow-free land like South Florida, snow still has loads of appeal for me; I don't think I'll ever get tired of just walking around in it, listening to the crunchy sounds of it under my shoes, watching the way it falls and sticks to things, and the way everything seems quieter when it's snowing. In any case, I walked the two miles or so to Marathon for lunch (and part of the Marseilles:Rennes replay on Setanta); and by the time I was done the buses were running and I came home. Some of our neighbors had commandeered 26th Avenue for sledding purposes; music, beers and fun, it was a real nice scene. I particularly enjoyed the creative options for sledding vehicles. There were a couple of dudes who tried to ride in a wading pool, which promptly tore itself to shreds. Then there's this guy who put a recycle bin atop a snowboard. He fell pretty much every time I saw him go down the hill, but judging by the smile on his face I don't think he minded too much.

It was a good day: it snowed; I got out of work early; we encountered some of our neighbors without becoming enraged and losing our love of humanity (again!); and I got a chance to try out my spiffy new digital camera (thanks Mom!). Now I'm keeping my fingers crossed that when I call my boss tomorrow morning, she tells me to stay home again - I want to lounge around and enjoy the snow some more, and I really want to watch the Newcastle:Birmingham FA Cup 3rd Round replay.

Tags: snow, Portland

Everything's Coming Up Christmas

2006-12-17T22:10:00.000-08:00

We went to three - count 'em three - holiday/xmas/whatever parties this weekend; lots of fun, cheer, joyous humanity glowing with togetherness and love and liquor.

Last night was a house-warming/birthday/Christmas party in a very sweet house just up the road from the University of Portland; great view of the river and the railroad bridge, good times had by all. Today we went to Audrey's Mom's place for an open house Christmas party, where we were served chili dogs and cookies (aside: I have eaten way more cookies than I should have in the past few days, and it's still a week until The Big Day). Also the pool had a quarter-inch sheet of ice on it (it's been slightly colder than usual here in Portland); I entertained myself by breaking off chunks of ice and throwing them on the rest of the ice. Combine that with the chili dogs and I was 10 years old for a while, so that was fun.

Tonight we went to a party at our friend Robin's cute new apartment in the Hollywood district. She made some pretty rocking party food, including an army of little penguins made of olives, cream cheese and carrots, and a very delicious apple sour cream pie. We drank cider and wine, and we all acted like very sophisticated young adults. Then we acted like little kids for a while and exchanged gifts, and Robin gave me what is frankly one of the best presents I have ever gotten in my life.

Quick backstory: I have been both a bowler and a Miami Dolphins fan since I was a small child. At age 12 I bowled at a charity event and managed to somehow bowl on the same pair of lanes with Dan Marino, who was the Dolphins quarterback at the time, and also happens to be an NFL legend and was my childhood hero. It was an amazing night for me, not least because at the end Dan shook my hand and said, "It was nice bowling with you, Lucas." As a 12-year old boy hearing his sporting idol address him by name, this was ecstacy for me. The next weekend I attended my first Dolphins game, where unfortunately my camera was stolen, containing the pictures I had taken of my bowling night with Marino. Boo hoo hoo and all, but at least I have the memories (and the score sheet: Dan and I both bowled games over 200!).

Back to present day. I am wont, whilst in my cups, to wax nostalgic; and apparently I have told this Marino story a few times, including to Robin. And Robin, remembering this story, somehow, through shadowy connections she must have with the Illuminati, the Free Masons, the Teamsters and the American Red Cross, managed to get someone at CBS (for which network Dan does the NFL pregame show) to send her an autographed picture of Dan, which she presented to me tonight. Now as a lifelong Dolphan who grew up in the Marino era, naturally I already have a few Marino signatures. But what sets this autograph - and this Christmas gift - apart from the rest is that she managed to get Dan to sign it, "Lucas, Nice bowling with you. Dan Marino #13."

Initially I thought it was a good joke. But after I inspected the signature and realized what it was, I really didn't know what to say; I was nearly speechless and a little choked up. People who aren't sports fans might not think it's such a big thing, but it touched me and made me very, very happy and full of all that aforementioned glowing love of humanity. It's been a very cool Christmas/Holiday/Whathaveyou season already, and it's still two weeks til the New Year.

Love.

Tags: Christmas, Dan Marino, gifts

Happy Thanksgiving, Joeeeey!

2006-11-23T13:01:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving in the desert with the family. We're here in Golden Valley, Arizona, observing all the time-honored Turkey Day Traditions: bickering about food preparations, drinking in the AM, and football.

That last one for me, watching football, means I get to watch my Miami Dolphins, and their now-starter Joey Harrington (who grew up in Portland and went to high school across from our apartment), take on the Detroit Lions. Joey played for Detroit for 4 years and pretty much sucked as much as the Lions team did. Today was Joey's first time back in Detroit since being traded to Miami in the offseason; he got booed by Lions fans while he played there, and he got booed today. And he threw 3 TDs and won player of the game as the Dolphins won their 4th straight game, 27-10. Joeeeey!!

So the rest of this Thanksgiving will be: more football, more drinking and more fam damily. Love, love, love.

Last couple days we spent in northern Arizona, in the San Francisco Peaks. We spent Monday night in Flagstaff and Tuesday in Williams, and went to Sunset Crater (volcanic terrain hiking), the Wupatki National Monument (incredible Hopi ruins), and (ho, hum) the Grand Canyon. So far it's been a pretty fantastic vacation. Tonight, for the first time since we landed in Vegas last Saturday, we get to sleep in the same place where we woke up. Tomorrow we'll visit the Hoover Dam and then two nights at the El Cortez in downtown Vegas. Nice.

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody!

Tags: Thanksgiving, Golden Valley, Arizona, Miami Dolphins, Detroit Lions, Joey Harrington

Booze, Sand & Stars

2006-11-20T19:34:00.000-08:00

It seems like a lot longer than just three days, but that's how long we've been on vacation now.

We spent the first two nights in Laughlin, Nevada; I dropped a few bucks on the tables, and the casinos eased my pain by serving me free beers and pours of Johnny Walker and Chivas Regal. Not too shabby. Well, ok maybe a little shabby - Laughlin is a far throw from Las Vegas, after all - but maybe shabby in a good way.

Yesterday we hung out at my Mom's place in Golden Valley, Arizona, which is not so much a "town" as it is a "few thousand trailers and manufactured homes spread out on the floor of a huge desert valley." It's beautiful at night; when seen from above it looks like a field of stars, mirroring the vivid and startling view of the actual stars in the sky. It'd been a while since I'd seen the Milky Way, but when there are no city lights to contend with it shines through clear and magnificent.

Then last night we went to a ghosttown called Chloride, Arizona for dinner. The place has a population of 250, but their restaurant makes a fantastic porterhouse steak. Also, the residents take their karaoke seriously; they all sing - bikers, cowboys and children - and they all sing well and without getting tipsy first(!). And then they're done by 5pm. Weird. My Mom bought some land in Chloride, in preparation for a move there at some point; because Golden Valley is getting too crowded. This is a woman who grew up in Manhattan, and now thinks Golden Valley is too crowded. Okay.

Today we drove to Flagstaff, Arizona, where it's quite a bit more chilly: 60 degrees (versus high 70s in Laughlin), and that's about 15 degrees above the normal average. We spent the afternoon wandering around historic downtown Flagstaff - lunch at a brewpub, then chill time at a coffee shop where Audrey could get her wifi on (the post she blogged today has actual pictures). It's in the mid-20s tonight, but we're cozy in our hotel room watching Monday Night Football and drinking Crown Royal (which reminds me: they sell booze in the grocery stores here a la California, and as a Safeway Club member [an exclusive fraternity to be sure], I got the bottle of Crown packaged with two rocks glasses for $15. Chivas was selling for $22!).

Tomorrow we're going to do some sightseeing of local geographical features (craters and canyons), then spend the night in Williams, Arizona, whence we'll take a touristy train ride to the Grand Canyon on Wednesday.

Vacation is awesome. Instead of punching a clock and humping for the man, I spent the day enjoying a nice drive and a cool town with my best gal.

Tags: Arizona, Flagstaff, Laughlin, Nevada, Chloride, vacation

Airport is Dumb

2006-11-18T09:24:00.000-08:00

Here we are in the PDX airport, awaiting our flight to Las Vegas. The new "security" measures are ludicrous and worthless. Do you think somebody who's ready to kill himself and 300 other people is going to be scared off because he can't bring more than 4 ounces of nose spray on board? Dumb, dumb, dumb.

In other news, VEGAS! As soon as we land we're heading to my sister's place, thence to lunch and hopefully to watch the 2nd half of this afternoon's mega-matchup in Columbus, Ohio. When people say there's nothing in stateside sports to match the passion in worldwide soccer, I point them to collegiate athletics. This is being talked about as one of the biggest games in college football history; Ohio State and Michigan, two of the fiercest rivals in American sports, and they're both undefeated. Rad. Two of our friends, Kristi and Andrew, just moved to Ann Arbor where Kristi is going to graduate school; lucky bastards. Andrew is a Scot who really gets into American sports like basketball and football, and Kristi grew up in a family of Ohio State fans and is now a Wolverine. And even though today's game is at Ohio State, I'm sure the Michigan campus and environs are going apeshit. Lucky, lucky bastards.

Tags: airport, Las Vegas, football, Ohio State, Michigan

Desert to the Desert

2006-11-15T18:48:00.000-08:00

Saturday Audrey and I leave for our Thanksgiving vacation to the Southwestern United States.

We shall spend a couple days in Laughlin, Nevada (which is like Reno...for old people) where we'll play $3 blackjack and eat what I'm sure is a great $5.99 buffet. Then it's a few days in Golden Valley, Arizona (which is a flyspeck in Mohave County), including such activities as: marveling at the aridity; eating Thanksgiving dinner; making day trips into "town" (i.e., Kingman, the county seat, itself only population 20K); and a trip to the Grand Canyon.

Then we finish off the trip with a weekend in Las Friggin Vegas (with a stop on the way at the Hoover Dam). I love Las Vegas with all my heart. The Strip is nice, and it's worth going just for the sensual assault (last year we saw some kind of pimp dude with his entourage strutting around inside Caesar's Palace); but the gambling is mostly too rich for my blood. I much prefer downtown Vegas for the more authentic atmosphere, not to mention the cheaper hotels, casinos and hookers. Er. I mean, just the rooms and tables. Golden Gate, Binions, El Cortez; also the neon and the absurd Fremont Street Experience...downtown Vegas rulez.

And this trip couldn't be coming at a better time. My current temp job has become nigh intolerable; the culture there is, in a word, Unfriendly, and the actual work is, in a word, Shitty. Audrey, too, has hit her first lull with her new gig; she is enjoying the actual work - she's a Ruby Developer - but as with any job there are going to be frustrations. No Employee is an Island, as I believe some famous guy said once, and Audrey is now experiencing the abrasions resultant from contact with the Hell that is Other People (another famous-guy quote, if I'm not mistaken).

Then of course there is the ridiculous weather we're having lately. For the past couple of weeks we've been getting hammered by so-called Pineapple Express storms - just tonight we came out of the grocery store and Audrey was nearly knocked unconscious when she was struck in the head by a flying pineapple. So we're both looking forward to getting out of Portland for a little while and enjoying the dry desert air and the dry martinis in the casinos.

Tags: vacation, Laughlin, Las Vegas, Thanksgiving, gambling, Arizona, Nevada, Golden Valley

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

2006-11-09T18:57:00.000-08:00

For November 9, 2006:

The Good: George Allen conceded the Virginia Senatorial race to Jim Webb, thereby assuring the Democrats control of both Houses of Congress. Allen - son and namesake of the NFL coaching legend - surprised me, not just by conceding the race, but by conceding when he could have protracted it by demanding an assuredly testy and messy taxpayer-funded recount. "I do not wish to cause more rancor by protracted litigation," Allen said, "and needlessly expending money and causing any more personal animosity." A touch of class, perhaps, from the man who taught America the word "macaca?"

The Bad (Sad, really): Ed Bradley died of leukemia. Damn, he was one of our favorite 60 Minutes reporters.

The Ugly (and Disgusting and Reprehensible, and also Sad, and Sadly Predictable): Fundamentalist Jews and Muslims in Jerusalem are teaming up...to hate gays. It takes divinely-ordained bigotry to bring two groups of assholes together in an attempt to stop a Pride Parade from marching. Scumbags.

Tags: George Allen, Jim Webb, Senate, Virginia, macaca, Ed Bradley, 60 Minutes, homophobia, Jerusalem, Judaism, Islam, hatred

Coffee Break

2006-11-09T16:41:00.000-08:00

I take my coffee break and sit at a table with a beautiful view of Portland - the Fremont Bridge, the downtown skyline, and on clear days Mount Hood in the distance - and I am surrounded by my would-be coworkers, also on their breaks ("would-be," because I work for the temp agency, not for Name of Company Here). While I impose upon myself 15 minutes of "scholarly" activity - scribbling notes about the book I'm reading, in preparation for the review that I'll post of it in a week or two - I inevitably and unwillingly eavesdrop on the conversations around me.

A table full of young women - dreary, depressed provincials - swap acidly hateful gossip, forcing out guffaws of strained laughter in response to what are surely the same stories day after day. They hold court with one another, there in the large lunchroom, each awaiting her turn to deliver a spiteful dollop of dirt. They all dutifully express the appropriate reactions to the stories: whooping laughter, gasps of disbelief or delight - one of them will actually clap her hands in appreciation of a particularly outrageous punchline. Applause!

At another table to my right, two middle-aged women converse in what I believe is Russian. Of the ambient noise in the room, this is what I actually try to concentrate upon the most, failing the ability to simply tune everything out; I cannot understand their words, but the cadence of their alien tongue is soothing, like a radio broadcast listened to while half-asleep.

But there are moments when the overheard babble includes something that doesn't produce revulsion in me. A snippet of beautiful vernacular, spoken without forethought or attempt to impress, catches my ear and makes me smile inwardly. Two women at the table next to me, making unimportant small talk - invariably it is about the weather or last night's episode of Name of Popular Television Show Here - while one of them rummages in her purse, apparently needing to mail a bill or something. She says, "I know there's a stamp somewhere in this madness." It's the word madness that stands out to me, a word not used very often at all, especially when referring to actual insanity (it would be impolite to use such an archaic term); and this woman is using it casually, automatically, to refer to the mess inside her purse! I repeat it to myself over and over - "somewhere in this madness, somewhere in this madness" - to make sure it sticks.

As I said, at times it makes me smile, and allows me to forget: about the table of harpies and their insipid cacophony; and about the larger issue of where I am (i.e., temping) and how long I'll have to remain here before I can take my breaks among a new set of conversations and peculiarities.

Tags: diurnal

Trail Blazers 101 - Lakers 90

2006-11-08T23:19:00.000-08:00

What will be the Los Angeles Lakers' only visit to the Rose City this season saw the Blazers deliver another big 2nd half performance and up their record to 3-2. Kobe Bryant - booed every time he touched the ball - was outstanding as usual; his swaggering, smooth play was good for 32 points, but only 1 assist against 6 turnovers. Bryant was outplayed by Blazers' leader Zach Randolph, who had a double-double midway through the 2nd quarter and finished with 36 points, 10 rebounds, 3 steals and 3 assists (two more than Kobe), going 11-12 from the line. Randolph also uncharacteristically sank a 3-point shot with 19 seconds remaining to seal the deal and send the Rose Garden crowd home happy and with free chalupas in their pockets.

I've been to both Blazers home games this season and also have tickets to Sunday's game against the Dallas Mavericks. The Rose Garden was rocking tonight in the 4th quarter, and last Saturday against the Minnesota Timberwolves, when Juan Dixon hit a 3 with 6 seconds left in the game to win it for Portland, the place simply erupted. It feels really great to be a part of the lovefest, to be able to witness this city rediscovering it's affection for their Blazers. People leaving the arena singing, screaming, slapping fives with strangers. We went to a bar downtown after the game last weekend and there were 15 or so Blazers fans in there, blurting drunken joyous noises to one another. I feel like I finally have another local team to root for, whose name I can utter in the same breath as the Portland Timbers as "my" home teams.

Tags: Portland Trail Blazers, Portland, Blazers, LA Lakers, Zach Randolph, Kobe Bryant, basketball

Rain, Rain, Go Away

2006-11-08T14:08:00.000-08:00

After I finished my lunch just now, I was about to put my shoes on and walk to the store. Then the skies opened up...again.

This is Portland, Oregon, where it rains all the time during the wintry months; but we almost never get anything like we've gotten in the past week: over 6.5 inches of rain, including more than 2 inches on Monday alone.

Now, I grew up in South Florida, where it rains in buckets every afternoon during the summer; I've been to a Miami Dolphins game where it rained 2 inches in just the first half. But that's Florida: it's a swamp, the soil is all sand, and drainage is almost never a problem. But the soil here in more clayey, and when it rains it's usually less than a quarter of an inch per day (and that's a good rain). Over 5 inches in the past 4 days, and it's coming down again.

But we in Portland are getting nothing like what they're getting in parts of Washington State and on the Oregon coast. Tillamook, Oregon (the home of the famous cheese), has gotten nearly 11 inches in the past 6 days, and over 8 inches just since Monday. At least one person and dozens of cows have died; I just saw on the weather channel footage of ranchers in an inflatable raft rescuing a calf from deep waters.

This part of the country gets a lot of rain, and that's part of the charm of the place. I love the rain, and I like having to wear a raincoat, etc. But fatally torrential flooding isn't charming. I hope this stops soon.

Tags: flooding, Pacific Northwest, Oregon, Portland, Tillamook, rain

Election Postscriptum - The Day After

2006-11-08T11:21:00.000-08:00

So uh, wow. The House is Dem (this I knew when I went to bed), and with the Montana race being called for Jon Tester the Senate is now only one macaca from being Dem.

Then the news that apparently last night's Republican failures were just too much for Donald Rumsfeld to handle: the fucker quit his job as boss at the Ministry of Peace!

Well I think today was a good time to take a personal day. I'm going to do a little shopping, clean the kitchen, knit and enjoy the good feeling of knowing that we kicked the bums out. And tonight I'm going to a basketball game. If karma exists, the Blazers will beat the Lakers and we'll all get free ~~dog food~~ chalupas!

Tags: election, politics, Montana, Jon Tester, Congress, Senate, Macaca, Donald Rumsfeld, Pentagon, Blazers

DemoCrazy Go Nuts

2006-11-07T17:38:00.000-08:00

Election Day, November 7, 2006

After work I dropped off my ballot and was sufficiently overcome - as always on election day - with a gleeful zest for democracy, that I decided to come home and blog about it. I'm a sucker for the workings of our most innovative and (still) radical form of government, and probably watch more TV on election day than any other day of the year (not counting sports, of which I watch a lot). And this election day promises to be special: the ~~Wuss~~Democrats may just regain control of one or both houses of Congress, which could neuter the rampaging Republican Elephant we've had stomping all over the place these past 6 years. So I'm going to "live blog" tonight; I have a couple friends coming over to watch the coverage with me, and I'll drop in from time to time and post my thoughts and whatnot. Politics is a subject about which you'll almost never read in this space; so please bear with me just this once.

(most recent post at top)

10:43:- I don't know what it'll be like to have Madame Speaker Pelosi in control of the House, but I'm excited about the prospect.

Everyone has left, it's just me and Audrey now. And our drinks. The election has been a success for the Democratic Party on national and local scales (not to count chickens before hatching, but...), and I'm pleased as a pig in youknowwhat. Santorum is gone and the House has been wrested away from Bush's sycophants; but there are still thousands of American soldiers in Iraq and a lot of them are going to be killed or maimed before this whole mess is over. Realize, people, that the damage done in the last 6 years is going to take more than one night to undo. Tonight's half-victory is just a start. See you in 2008.

And now I have to go pour myself another Manhattan and let Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert tell me how I really feel about tonight's election results.

10:22:- Looks like the Dems will control the House; Senate still undecided. Additionally, along with other xenophobic measures, Arizona makes English the official language. Double-you Tee Eff!?!?

10:05- Macaca!!

9:40- Still nothing new to report on the national scene. Democrats will probably take the House of Representatives; the Senate is still unknown; we're still drunk, but we now have PIZZA! And Ted Kulonoski is going to remain the Governor of Oregon, which is...I guess...OK. Hey, Ron Wyden thinks it's cool? I think it's cool.

8:30- CNN is reporting that "Dems Win House." I think this calls for a little mixture of whiskey, vermouth and angostura bitters that I like to call a Manhattan.

8:12- Nothing new on the national scene, but Ken Boddie just told me that Kulongoski is kicking Saxton's ass! Fuck you, Ronnie!

7:44- Quote of the night thus far (courtesy of Trask, during Hilary's victory speech): "Shut up and show us your cock!" Also, I've switched to red wine.

7:24- Not much to report, other than that it's fun to watch good election news with like minded friends, and I'm two martinis into the evening. And FOXNews is ludicrous. The House is about 15 seats to the good guys, and the Senate is 1. Keep your fingers crossed.

6:04- The first good news of the night! NPR and others are reporting that some guy named Bob Casey has finally wiped the Santorum off the face of American legislature. And non-bigoted, right-thinking persons everywhere (including all Savage Love readers) rejoice. Fuck yeah!

5:41- After I got out of work as usual around 3:30, I went to drop off my ballot in southeast Portland - after a quick stop to drop off a job application (still temping, still looking) and purchase the requisite election night booze. The ballot-drop site on 11th Avenue was a nice tableau: rush-hour traffic coming up Belmont, people walking to and from the ballot drop site (the Multnomah County Elections office), and the sky looking just amazing at sunset. We've had about 3 days of ridiculous rain here - what the weatherpersons are calling a "Pineapple Express," because the system came from the South Pacific - and it has finally let up this afternoon. There were bit of blue sky, surrounded by dark brown and bright orange clouds; in the distance stood downtown Portland, with a startled reflection of orange light shooting up off the Big Pink building. It was cool and only drizzling, and I had a backpack full of liquor.

Now I'm home: I've done some minor housecleaning, preliminary to having guests; I've fixed myself a martini, to sip while I enter this initial blog post for election night. So far NPR is already calling a few races back east (Christopher Byrd will retain his Senate seat in West Virginia, big surprise), but it'll be a while before anything really important happens I think. Stay tuned.

Tags: election, politics, Portland, Oregon, Congress, booze, gin, martini, Santorum, Savage Love, Hilary Clinton, cock, wine, Kulongoski, Saxton, manhattan, macaca, Pelosi, Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Daily Show, Comedy Central

#47. Equal Rites

2006-10-25T21:06:00.000-07:00

#47. Equal Rites, Terry Pratchett (1987)

This is the third Discworld novel, and the first in which Pratchett examines the female counterparts-in-magic to the Wizards: the Witches. With characteristic charm and good natured fun, he profiles the story of a young girl who should have been born a boy because she was supposed to be a Wizard and Wizards are all boys, so she's raised as a Witch but has powers more suited to Wizardry, so she goes to Unseen University where all the Wizards live and as one might expect hilarity and mayhem ensue on every page.

Narratively, Equal Rites is a bit of a letdown from the first two books; it really is just a quick character sketch with a little adventure story around it. The Witches and Wizards are all silly and likeably incompetent (I loved the Witches' brooms that have to be "bump-started" before they'll fly), and their interactions provide some of the best comedy in the book (especially the slightly-creepy-because-they're-geezers romance between the head Wizard and the head Witch). The main character, Eskarina the Witch/Wizard, isn't all that likeable, or nearly as interesting as other Discworld favorites like Rincewind or Death; but the book succeeds because Pratchett is a great storyteller and a funny guy.

Tags: Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites, Discworld, humor

#46. Portnoy's Complaint

2006-10-25T18:15:00.000-07:00

#46. Portnoy's Complaint, Philip Roth (1966)

Philip Roth's Jewish antihero Alexander Portnoy is a tangle of contradictions (e.g. he hates Christians and Christianity, but lusts mightily after gentile women, shikses) and his life is a study of the tremendous negative power of guilt. He's self-hating and self-defeating, arrogant and spiteful; most of his decisions are (perhaps subconsciously) made in order to induce grief in himself and others. And he's also a bit of a whining asshole.

But really, this book is hilarious. It's written in the first person, as Portnoy talking to his psychiatrist. There are moments when the prose achieves a hustling rhythm not unlike the frenetic stand-up comedy of Lenny Bruce, when you can hear Portnoy Complaining as he recounts his childhood in a Jewish neighborhood in New Jersey, his college years in the Midwest, and his professional adult life in New York City. There are some truly unhinged rants and flights of fancy that, when he's finished, leave the reader quite breathless. The most inspired and funniest parts of the book deal with Portnoy's childhood and adolescence; specifically his relationship with his archly, Jewishly neurotic mother, Sophie. The things she does and says to young Alexander, while perhaps intended with love and not malice, leave the man a hysterical, bombastic wreck. Some of the incidents with his mother are patently horrible (e.g., when she tries to induce him to finish his dinner by threatening him with a knife), but others can only be thought of as really damaging when seen through the distorted circus-mirror lens of childhood memories; something said offhand (a comment about the size of 10-year-old Portnoy's penis, perhaps) will linger with him well into adulthood and inform a surprising number of his life choices.

Which leads to an explanation of the title: "Portnoy's Complaint" is a psychological disorder (coined by the narrator's never-seen auditor, his shrink) by which one is caught between one's own high moralistic impulses and deeply depraved sexual appetites (with a hint of the Oedipal as the root cause thereof). Portnoy himself describes it as being "torn by desires that are repugnant to my conscience, and a conscience repugnant to my desires." In short, the man wants to fuck everything that moves, but he feels guilty about it because of how his mother treated him, and so he sabotages all of his own attempts at happiness (or even long-term gratification).

But all that makes it sound like some dour, finger-wagging sermon about the importance of upright living; when what the book actually is, is a baudy, raunchy, explosive character sketch that reaches true brilliance with great frequency (less so in the more repetitive second half of the book, when the narrator is in his womanizing adulthood). And I think his "complaint" is more far-reaching than just his guilt-ridden sexual proclivities. The man complains about everything: his family, his Jewishness, religion in general, women (especially Dear Old Mom), Goyim (dullard Christian culture), and of course his despicable carnal lusts.

As a first look at the work of Philip Roth, I am needless to say intrigued and much impressed; not least because this book, with its stream-of-consciousness and ribald charm, is only emblematic of part of his oeuvre. His other work includes experimental political satire and autobiographical fiction, and I'm very interested to get involved with some of it.

Tags: Philip Roth, Portnoy's Complaint, literature

Borat

2006-10-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

Those familiar with Da Ali G Show will recognize the star of this mockumentary as the hilariously-inappropriate-comment-making Kazakh TV reporter who is just so eager to learn about American culture. On the show, he interviews politicians, takes classes in etiquette and learns about baseball; and without fail, his interview subjects become the butt of the jokes. That's the theme of the show: Borat (and the other characters, Ali G and Bruno, all played by Sacha Baron Cohen) asks stupid questions in a stupid way to reveal the ultimate stupidity of the person answering the questions. Actually, I always thought Ali G was the better character (it was "his" show, after all), and that the Borat segments were a little too cringeworthy and uncomfortable.

Well, Borat made a movie, and it's far better than his segments on Ali G, which were styled as excerpts from his Kazak television program. Here, we get to see Borat in front of and behind the camera, on a journey from his village in Kazakhstan to New York, Atlanta, LA and all points in between. The humor is the same - he says horribly racist/sexist things to people and we laugh at their reactions (which usually tend to be as ignorant and bigoted as Borat, but the joke is that they're not acting). The film version, though, by virtue of its extended plot and deeper character development, is almost able to evoke actual empathy for Borat; we get to meet his wife and sister(!) and son(!), we see his professional and personal struggles, we watch him search for happiness in a world with which he's not fully emotionally equipped to deal. We also watch him butcher the "Star Spangled Banner" in front of a Texas rodeo crowd and hand a bag of his own feces to a woman at a social dining club. It's all intensely funny, invariably politically incorrect and oh-my-God disgusting.

There is a scene in this movie that was so shockingly raunchy, it had the entire theater howling and screaming in agonized laughter (and we saw it screened in a museum full of college hipsters and art-appreciation yuppies). I actually reached to cover my tear-filled eyes more than once. It was so bad, I have no idea how it only received an R rating by the normally puritan MPAA. And I say this based on just that one scene; the entire movie is full of taboo-shattering scenarios featuring incest, toilet humor, pornography and rednecks.

There's some phony hubbub about the movie being misogynist or racist or (gasp!) anti-American; the people who foment this hubbub either A) have not seen the movie, or B) have no sense of humor, or C) have actually appeared in the movie or on Da Ali G Show as the butt of a joke. I came to the theater as a fan of Cohen's work, and I thought the movie was brilliant. It is packed (and I'm talking packed) with laughs and groans and screams of horror and glee; you will not leave the theater disappointed.

Tags: Borat, Ali G, Sacha Baron Cohen

Road Trip!

2006-10-19T22:03:00.000-07:00

Sure, Kari Sue might be living the life in "warm" Santa Clara, Tiffany is "earning a Ph.D." in Oxford, and Tye is getting even more metrosexual in San Fransicso. But guess why they'll all be jealous in about four sentences. Go ahead, guess where I'm going!

Here's a hint: it's a rural town, surrounded by desert, with a mid-size university and a Denny's.

If you guessed Kabul, Afghanistan...you're close. No, we won't be fighting any Pashtun warlords or Taliban psychopaths, but we will be watching a bunch of 300-lb lummoxes smash into each other in Pullman, Washington! My good friend Trask makes the trip with his fellow Ducks fans whenever the University of Oregon visits Washington State University, and this year he managed to score me a ticket (Saturday, 2pm PDT). Nice.

Santa Clara? Piss-ant. San Francisco? Provincial. Oxford? Backwater. See you suckers on the other side...of the Oregon/Washington border! Go Ducks! Wazoo's going down!

Tags: Pullman, Cougars, Ducks, Washington State University, University of Oregon, Oregon, Wazoo, road trip

#45. Regarding the Pain of Others

2006-10-16T19:05:00.000-07:00

#45. Regarding the Pain of Others, Susan Sontag (2003)

This small collection of essays, which explores the ways in which images of war and suffering can effect a populace, was the last thing Sontag published before she died in 2004. In it, she goes through a series of depictions of war - from Francisco Goya's early 19th century etchings of Napoleonic aggression against Spain, to CNN's non-stop coverage of the conflicts of the past 15 years, and a number of famous war photos in between - and examines what each meant to the intended audience, to the artist, and to posterity.

While the book lacks a cohesive central thesis - Sontag makes no grand judgements, and the book is refreshingly free of any strong political bent - she does reiterate her points often and with great effect. Essentially, she tells us that images of war and suffering can have tremendous consequences (both for good or ill) upon how a war is perceived by a given people. An image can rouse sympathy for a particular side or cause (Robert Capa's image of a Republican soldier being shot in the Spanish Civil War), or it can be used as a piece of anti-war propaganda (Ernst Friedrich's gruesome WWI photo collection Krieg Dem Kriege!).

What struck me most about this book was the research Sontag must have had to endure to write it (and I think "endure" is the correct word here, considering the images in the aforementioned Friedrich book, among others). She pores over dozens of grizzly photographs and videos, seeking out the reasons for their publication, and the ultimate outcomes of said publication. About midway through my reading I was reminded of the artwork used in a John Zorn album I have, which shows photographs of a particularly gruesome method of execution used in China until about a hundred years ago, called Leng Tch'e. The images are so startling that Zorn was forced to put them on the inside of the CD in order to get the label to release it; and he included an excerpt of the writing of French anthropologist and eroticist Georges Bataille, who was fascinated to near obsession with the photos.

As I said, reading Sontag's expounding upon horrible image after horrible image, I was reminded of these photos; and sure enough she does mention the Leng Tch'e photos (and the same excerpt from Bataille), to provide further example of how powerful such images can be, and in how many different ways, upon the viewer.

Sontag concludes the book by revisiting her original treatise on the power of images, On Photography, mainly refuting some of her own earlier ideas. But even here, she merely reiterates the theses she's been putting forth throughout Regarding the Pain of Others, and never really comes to an overarching point. Images of war and suffering are immensely powerful; but what (if anything) should/could we be inspired to do? Should we protest any and every war, at all times? Should war images be censored? Or more widely disseminated? Does the showing of explicit images deaden us to their subject matter? Sontag mainly leaves these and other questions unanswered, providing the reader with a wealth of evidence and analysis upon which we can begin to base our own answers.

Tags: Susan Sontag, Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, war, photography, war photography, photojournalism

You Always Hurt the Ones Who Buy Your Merchandise

2006-10-15T18:27:00.000-07:00

This has been a tough year for me as a sports fan.

It began in January, with my alma mater, the Florida State University Seminoles, finishing off a dismal season by losing to Penn State in the Orange Bowl.

Then a trip to England in April, whither we traveled to watch Sunderland AFC and Hartlepool United (that's English football, FYI, we call it maize soccer); and despite watching Sunderland notch a most impressive 0-0 draw in front of a then English Premier League record crowd at Old Trafford (home to Manchester United, aka the most popular sports team in the world), the teams I was supporting finished with 0 wins, 1 draw and 2 losses, with a -4 goal differential. Results aside, though, it was a magnificent trip, and one which I have been very remiss in not writing about (my pictures are here).

Thereupon the Portland Timbers season started, and what a shitstorm we fans endured. The Timbers fired their coach Bobby Howe after 5 seasons, during which he led the team to the playoffs four times, and once, in 2004, compiled the best regular season record in the league. But Bobby's teams were notable for a boring, "route one" style of play, and for choking in the playoffs. Howe out, Chris Agnello in, fresh from a stint with Salt Lake of the MLS, prior to which he won multiple titles as coach/GM of the 3rd division Utah Blitzz. The man came with a good pedigree, good connections, and he said all the right things.... The season was a complete disaster, with the Timbers finishing dead last in the table, and at one point going 12 straight games without a win (including a loss in their only US Open Cup match of the season). For most fans, the season's only bright spot was a spectacular 3-1 victory over the hated rival Seattle Sounders on June 3. Well, there was one other bright spot: Agnello "resigned" directly after the season mercifully ended.

During the summer we went to Germany for the World Cup. Let me just say that this was one of the most amazing experiences of my life (which I've also been very lax to write about, something I'll try to remedy soon); all the people we met - Germans and other tourists - were great, it was a thrilling multi-cultural soccer party everywhere we went, and I can't wait to do it again in South Africa in 2010. But the team we went to watch - the United States - were awful. They finished the tournament with 1 draw and 2 losses, and a goal differential of -4. It was incredible to be able to attend two games, and the one draw the US managed was indeed a great thing - 1-1 in Kaiserslautern versus eventual Cup-hoisters, despicable Italy - but it wasn't enough to get the US out of the first round. Better luck in 4 years?

(It should be pointed out here that while we were in Germany the Miami Heat won their first NBA title. As it turns out, though, I've started to care less about the Heat the longer I live here in Portland, where we do have the [albeit awful] Trailblazers. I still consider myself a Heat fan, but am equally a Blazers fan, and likely the Blazers will command all or most of my basketball love before long. When we read in a German newspaper that the Heat had won the title, I was only mildly happy about it.)

Then last month (American) football season started again, and my teams promptly began losing again. Florida State have already lost two games (out of 6), in a sport when even one loss can doom a team to have no chance at a national title. At this point the Seminoles will be lucky to even get a shot at the ACC title. Dare I say: it may be time for Bobby Bowden to retire?

My other football team is the first team I really fell in love with as a kid: the Miami Dolphins. They're the team in which I have invested more love than any other, and also the team that has ripped my heart out more than any other over the years. My earliest memory of football is watching the Dolphins lose Super Bowl XVII to the Washington Redskins. Two years later they had hotshot young quarterback Dan Marino, fresh off a season of setting passing records (many of which still stand); and they lost the Super Bowl to the San Francisco 49ers and hotshot quarterback Joe Montana. Marino went on to set a ton more records during his 17-year career, all of which was played with the Miami Dolphins (a rarity in modern sports); but he never went to another Super Bowl. Ah well, c'est les sports.

I am still an avid Dolphins fan - as I said they are still more beloved to me than the Timbers - which is something I cannot say about any of the other teams from my youth in South Florida. I'm in Portland now, and I root for Portland teams (this is both a conscious decision, because I believe in putting the "home" team first; but I think it's also a natural, automatic reaction most sports fans have eventually when they move to a new city). The Dolphins are the exception to this rule; in part because, universities aside, Portland has no local football team (the Seminoles are a college team, and as an alumnus I'll never love another team. I refuse to consider the Seattle Seahawks my "local" pro team, the way so many Oregonians do: I've heard that something like 15% of the Seahawks' fanbase is from the Portland metro area).

The problem with living 3200 miles away from my favorite team is that, unless I go to a sports bar, I only get to watch them 2 or 3 times per year. Mostly I suffer through following them with "live" online game updates, but once in a while I'll go to the bar. Only "once in a while," because I generally don't like watching the Dolphins with other people, and especially not with people who are fans of the other team. Shortly after I moved to Portland I went to Claudia's, a sports bar in southeast Portland, to watch a Dolphins:Jets game, and I was the only Dolphins fan among about 2 dozen Jets fans. It only served to reinforce my bilious, incapacitating hatred for that team and their fans (represented in the national consciousness by that dipshit in the fireman hat who is always shown leading cheers from atop his buddy's shoulders whenever Jets' home games are televised).

Today the Dolphins played the Jets, and I decided I wanted to see the game. The Dolphins are horrible (again) this year, but I still believe they can turn it around (eternally the optimist), and I wanted to see them play with ex-University of Oregon hero Joey Harrington at quarterback. So I went to a sports bar I'd never been to - Jolly Roger, on SE 12th Avenue, near Hawthorne - and hoped for the best. Well, the bar turned out to be just fine: part of the "Cheerful" franchise of bars (Cheerful Tortoise, et al.), the place is literally wallpapered in televisions, and has cheap food and beers, and it's walking distance from my apartment. It was also nice in that I didn't have to deal with any obnoxious asshole Jets fans (the only other people who had apparently come to the bar specifically to watch that game were other Dolphins fans). Naturally, though, the Dolphins lost the game, dropping their record this season to a wretched 1-5.

And when I say they "lost the game," I mean they beat themselves: Dolphins receivers dropped six passes (one of which was deflected into an interception), the defense played well but made just enough gaffes in just the right places to allow the Jets to score two 2nd half touchdowns; once the Miami offense did start to click it was too little, too late, and their place kicker missed a 51-yard field goal with :30 left on the clock. The Jets are a very bad team, nearly as bad as the Dolphins; but, rivalries being what they are, and home field advantage being what it is (the game was played in New Jersey, and yes, the fireman-hat-wearing jackass did appear on screen a number of times), they scored enough points to beat the hapless Dolphins. To make it more painful, the Dolphins - and Joey Harrington, who I'm liking very much in his two starts, despite his numbers not being exactly stellar - ended the game hot, scoring touchdowns on their final two drives before missing the late FG to effectively end the game.

So there's my heart, on the floor again; a sucker for abuse, it'll be back next week, next season. The Seminoles are awful, but I can't wait for their late-November game against the G*tors; Sunderland and Hartlepool were both relegated, and are both in the middle of their tables (2nd and 4th divisions, respectively), but we're already thinking about another trip to the UK to see more games; the US men's team had their head coach resign after the World Cup and haven't yet named a replacement - then sadly last week their assistant coach died - but I'm very pleased with the new McBride jersey I got (just in time for his retirement from international soccer) and can't wait to wear it to a game; the Timbers' new coach - beloved as a player (he even played some last season as a player/assistant coach) - counts little kids as his only coaching experience, and the Timbers' roster is a complete question mark, but I can't wait to buy my 2007 season tickets.

C'est les sports.

Tags: Florida State University, Florida State, Seminoles, football, Sunderland, Hartlepool, soccer, Miami Dolphins, Portland Timbers, Portland, Timbers, sports

#43, 44. Interesting Times & The Last Continent

2006-10-12T18:55:00.000-07:00

#43. Interesting Times (1994) & #44. The Last Continent (1997), Terry Pratchett

OK, with these two books, it makes four consecutive Discworld books I read, and 8 out of 9 either Pratchett or Douglas Adams. So...yeah, I was on a bit of a British humor binge. I'll keep this shortish and sweetish.

Interesting Times is a story about the Agatean Empire (the Discworld equivalent of China and Japan mushed together), and The Last Continent is about XXXX (alternatively spelled "EcksEcksEcksEcks"), which is Discworldese for Australia. Both books star Rincewind, the wizard who can't cast spells, and his lethally loyal Luggage. These two books were written a good decade after Pratchett had begun the Discworld series (with The Color of Magic in 1983), and it's apparent early on in the reading that the place is more coherent and evolved, the characters better developed. And though there are some jokes that rely on a knowledge of what came before, of at least having read one previous book in the sereis, the beauty of all Discworld books is that they can stand on their own and still deliver the goods.

Pratchett, while using his first and most famous protagonist, is yet still discovering new places with which to enlarge the grandeur that is Discworld. Not to mention the greater depth given to the wizards of Unseen University; they don't all have their own names, necessarily, but they do have titles, and definitely distinct personalities (well, in the Bursar's case, does "crazy" qualify as a personality?). Here's a quick rundown:

Interesting Times: Imperial China satirized; also the origins of Maoism, the aging of Heroes (Cohen the Barbarian returns as Genghiz Cohen!), the power of myth and legend over reality.

The Last Continent: Australia, Australia, Australia, we love you! Amen! Also time travel, alternate universes, folk heroes, evolution, and the origin of Vegemite ("...kind of horrible, but nevertheless Rincewind found himself having another taste.").

As with the first two books, these two segue into one another and could/should be read as a pair. Rincewind becomes even more endearing as he accidentally conquers all evils, hilarity ensues at every turn, and there's a whole race of Luggages!

Tags: Terry Pratchett, Discworld, Interesting Times, The Last Continent, Rincewind, humor

#41, 42. The Color of Magic and The Light Fantastic

2006-10-09T18:10:00.000-07:00

#41. The Color of Magic (1983), and #42. The Light Fantastic (1986), Terry Pratchett

Pratchett's first two Discworld novels, both are relatively short and could be included in one edition. If you've read any Discworld books, you know it's not exactly important to go through the series chronologically, but these two books give a nice foundation; and while they may not pack the tight comedic punch of the later Discworld books - neither the world nor the characters are yet as fully and intensely developed as they'll become - they are invaluable for introducing us to some legendary and loveable characters. There's Rincewind the singularly inept "wizzard" and his loyal Luggage (yes, the Luggage is a character!), along with Rincewind's agonizingly naive tourist friend Twoflower; not to mention the city of Ankh-Morpork and the Discworld itself.

Rincewind might be laughable as a weaver of spells, but he's completely endearing as a protagonist, with the appropriate mix of self-deprecation and sarcastic wit. In these books, he's thrust out of his comfortable existence at Unseen University and into a series of absurd adventures, wherein Pratchett lampoons the fantasy genre and role-playing games specifically. Wizards wear pointy hats and hurl fireballs (and chain-smoke); Heros destroy monsters, save maidens, and steal gold; and apparently some articles of Luggage are viciously loyal to their owners.

While perhaps not as consistently funny as the later books, with much of the mythology of the Discworld not really having taken form yet (there's no City Watch, and the Wizards at the University aren't nearly as recognizable, e.g.); nevertheless these two books are well worth a look.

Tags: Terry Pratchett, Discworld, The Color of Magic, The Light Fantastic, Rincewind, humor

Fake Holiday

2006-10-09T13:32:00.000-07:00

I was surprised, baffled, bemused, yea I was downright flummoxed! to arrive at work this morning and discover that we had nearly nothing to do, because it's Columbus Day! I currently temp at the regional headquarters for a bank; so our office is open, but the branches are all closed. Meaning no work for us. The upshot is I did manage to log some hours before they sent me home around noon; and I couldn't have asked for a more stunning day, weather-wise, to be looking for something to do. Cool, sunny, breezy; open up the windows and this apartment becomes a paradise within which I can do dishes and listen to the radio. Ahh, the life of the semi-employed!

Also, I had a pleasant run-in with a former co-worker downtown. And then when I got home I saw a genuine fur-flying catfight in the parking lot; this, a couple weeks after I saw two raccoons copulating in the cemetary at near our place. Rowr.

Three words that you have never spoken, nor had them spoken to you, in the following order: "Happy Columbus Day." Well let me be the first (and probably the last) person in your life to wish you a Happy Columbus Day. Now I have to go get paper little galleons to decorate the apartment with!

Tags: Columbus Day

#40. Justine

2006-10-05T21:00:00.000-07:00

#40. Justine, Lawrence Durrell (1957)

Justine is the first of a four-part series called The Alexandria Quartet, set in the Egyptian port city during the 1930s. Lawrence Durrell was an English diplomat, who lived and worked in diverse and exotic Mediterranean cities such as Athens and Rhodes, and if this book is any indication, was a very gifted writer. His prose is eloquent and full of rich imagery, poetic turns of phrase and a dense narrative style not completely unlike some of William Faulkner's work. His characters are well crafted, rounded, believable people. It is, technically, a top notch book.

But I hate it.

I hate it because the eloquent, rich prose feels empty, saying nothing. His characters are believable; but they're believable as wholly unlikeable, wretched solipsists. The plot essentially consists of an unnamed narrator (a schoolteacher) and his girlfriend Melissa (an inept burlesque dancer), and their interactions with an aristocratic Alexandrian named Nessim and his wife, the titular character Justine (easily the most despicable, selfish character in the book). They have affairs with one another, they bemoan the repurcussions of their affairs, just as they bemoan the "tragedy" of their lives in general. Their conversations read like collegiate ruminations on philosophy: wondering whether love is a good or bad thing; whether is matters if they love the people they have sex with; whether anything matters at all, ad nauseum. It all comes across as horribly self-absorbed, and it was a chore for me to finish this book, despite Durrell's admitted gift.

The saving grace is the city itself; Alexandria in a way stars as the real main character of the book, and Durrell lovingly paints her cafes and shops, and her myriad eclectic residents. But we only get to remain with the interesting minor characters for so long at a stretch before we are thrust back into more maddeningly banal conversations among the major players. Not counting the city, this book lacks anything resembling personality or charm; and what passes for a plot is as absurd and irrelevant as the characters. I can't imagine attempting to read the entire series.

Tags: Lawrence Durrell, Justine, literature, Alexandria

#37-39. The Hitchhiker's Guide Trilogy

2006-10-04T18:06:00.000-07:00

#37. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, (1979); #38. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, (1980); #39 Life, the Universe and Everything, (1982); Douglas Adams

One night I was bored. I finished whatever book I'd been reading, and was planning to go to the bookstore the next day to get the next selection for my bookclub. So I didn't want to start a "heavy" book, but I am the type that can't ever be not currently reading something. So I decided to reread Hitchhiker's Guide. I'd read the entire trilogy (of five) about a year and a half ago, after years of resistance. I don't know exactly why I resisted ever reading Adams' books; it probably had something to do with their hyper-cult status. And the types of people I'd encountered who engendered this status: kind of Monty Python-o-philes, the people who will, at the drop of a hat, recite entire swaths of dialogue from a movie or show, perfectly verbatim (minus the funniness). I didn't want to be like those people. But then I thought, I'm a huge Monty Python fan, and I never annoy people by singing the "Spam" song, or reciting a litany of cheese names. So what the hell, why not dig in to Hitchhiker? Also, Audrey told me to read it, and I always do what she says.

In any event, once I picked up the first one, I was urged beyond my will to read the next. And the next. I think the momentum slows down a bit after Life, the Universe and Everything, so I was able to stop myself at that point and move on to more serious and infinitely less enjoyable reading (which is not to say the final two books of the trilogy [of five] aren't as good as the first three; I enjoyed them all when I first read them, also consecutively). I figure since I read all three in three nights, and they're fairly short, and the story never loses steam, and could possibly comprise three sections of a larger book; I figure in that case I'll review them all at once. Not that this review will be much more than the bold statement that I love these books! It won't even be a very long review: I'm guessing maybe one more paragraph, and that'll be it. Enough has been written about these masterpieces of modern English humor, that I'll only add - yeah, one paragraph ought to do it.

Arthur Dent is a human among aliens, the Earth having been destroyed. He has adventures with his friends Ford (wacky alien), Trilllian (not-so-wacky human), and Zaphod (very wacky alien). There's also a robot named Marvin, who is extremely depressive; so much so that he inspired at least one Radiohead song ("Paranoid Android", which phrase is used to describe Marvin at least twice in the trilogy...also, the phrase "OK, Computer," is uttered by someone talking to a computer). Marvin is superb comic relief; or would be if there weren't about a hundred jokes on every page. Amazing that Adams is able to be so jokesy-jokesy without devolving into a steady stream of puns and one-liners. There are puns and one-liners, but like the rest of the jokes, they're almost always dead on and used to great effect (I laughed out loud more times reading these books than any others I can remember), and cover a great range of source material, from satire to slapstick. I'm tempted to compare Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett, and there are certainly similarities; but Adams is a little funnier (or at least his writing is more continuously funny, more crammed with humor) and dialogue-driven, and Pratchett seems to care more about "plot," and to "develop his characters" a little more (sheesh, writers...). One thing they have in common is their ability to inject moments of touching or penetrating drama into their otherwise wholly humorous books. They're both brilliant, you should run out and read all of their books right now!

Tags: Douglas Adams, Hitchhiker's Guide, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Life, the Universe and Everything, humor

#36. Reaper Man

2006-10-02T20:11:00.000-07:00

#36. Reaper Man, Terry Pratchett (1991)

Ahh, Terry Pratchett. He's managed to write dozens of books - hilarious, brilliant books, as funny and thoughtful as any other contemporary author - while flying entirely beneath the radar of the mainstream book-reading populous. I myself didn't know anything about him until my friend Mr. Flowers clued me in to his existence last year, loaning me Guards! Guards! Ahh, Terry Pratchett, you fantastic Pythonesque thing, you!

If you've never read any Pratchett, here's a brief summation: he writes about a place called Discworld, which is exactly like our own Earth, except that it's different in about a million ways. It's every fantasy/history/mythology/etc. book you've ever read, except that it's better...and funny. He uses witty dialogue, interspersed with poignant observations, sprinkled with spot-on observations about humans and not-humans. He uses - if I may quote Michael Palin, from a Monty Python sketch in which he explains what made gangster Dinsdale Piranha so evil - "Satire!" By utlizing cliches and standard tropes of storytelling, he sidesteps the need for lengthy exposition or set-up and can cut directly to the jokes (where he twists those tropes into pretzels of absurdity).

For instance, take the title character of Reaper Man: the Grim Reaper himself, Death. What would you imagine he looks like? Human skeleton, about 7' tall, wearing a black cowl and carrying an impossibly sharp scythe? You'd be correct, then; no need for the author to stun you with details. Then comes the joke: he gets fired from his job - as Death! - and ends up getting hired on a farm: wearing overalls; socializing with farmers; feeding the roosters (and teaching them how to crow); et cetera! Death is a recurring character in all of the Discworld novels; where he talks in a voice like this, normally described as the sound of sepulchres exploding (or some such thing), and his appearance almost always heralds (obviously) the imminent end of someone's earthly life (discly life?). In this book, though, we see him out of work, adrift, interacting with humans, trying to figure out what humans are actually like, and then trying to fit in with them. Also appearing are other frequent visitors to the Discworld books, the Wizards: that buffoonish and dangerous gang of old men who act as Pratchett's endearing lampoon of Academia and...well, Wizardry. While the Wizards try to solve the problems associated with there being no more death in the world (read: Zombies!...and killer shopping carts), Death himself tries to make time with the ladies and adapt to his new life as a farm hand. The results are screamingly funny, and at times surprisingly touching (in other words: very Pratchett).

Tags: Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man, Discworld, humor, Death

Life Marches Awesomeward

2006-10-01T21:35:00.000-07:00

I've been trying my darndest to get back on the blog wagon lately. I've been temping in a corporate mailroom (and beginning in earnest my search for a "real" job). And while I get out early each day, and it certainly doesn't tax my mental energies, my physical energies are pooped by day's end. When I get home all I want to do is read, knit, watch Jeopardy! and go to bed. But I'm trying. I've just published my review of Towing Jehovah, and the next few I've got will be pretty short and sweet (I recently went on a bit of a Douglas Adams/Terry Pratchett binge, and while I find those books immensely entertaining and edifying, I don't know how much sense it would make to write a full review of 6 or 7 of them, all consecutively). The last two books I've read have been more "serious," and with those I should like to get back to my attempts at writing "serious" reviews.

#35. Towing Jehovah

2006-10-01T21:27:00.000-07:00

#35. Towing Jehovah, James Morrow (1994)

James Morrow has here crafted one of the oddest stories I've read in a while. The title pretty well describes the plot: an oil tanker, captained by a guilt-ridden pariah, is tasked by Angels with towing the dead body of God Himself through the ocean to its final resting place (which is, of course, in an iceberg); to do so he has to thwart the attempts of violently lunatic Atheists to stop him. One is tempted, hearing a plot synopsis like this, to go into it expecting some kind of Beckett-like, surreal allegory; and while there are moments of real absurdity, the action remains "realistic" throughout. It really is a two-mile long corpse, and it really is God (bushy white beard and all), being dragged by his ears by a supertanker through the Atlantic.

What Morrow does with this celestial cadaver is produce an engaging blend of satire, sci fi, philosophical exploration and bizarro adventure. There are the physical issues associated with a dead body that big, and what happens to it after it's been floating in the water for a couple of months (imagine the smell!); and there are the spiritual ramifications: a cast of sailors, Catholic leaders and staunch Rationalists realize that God is in fact dead, with often disturbing and/or hilarious consequences. It's with these characters though - particularly the Rationalists - that the book's primary weakness is revealed: Morrow's characters are mostly exaggerations, bordering on charicature. There are people on both sides of the deistic question (i.e., Vatican hierarchs and a cadre of militant New York humanists) who are cartoonishly ruled by their ideologies. Surely this was done with the intent to satirize, but by about the midway point of the book the "rationalists" are nearly unbearable ("Let's destroy the body of God, so nobody will know he actually existed, and we won't be proven wrong as Atheists!"). The Catholics aren't given nearly as harsh treatment, because for the most part they are on the fringe of the action, and just aren't as interesting or bombastic as the rationalists (who are also responsible for most of the comic relief in the book).

Overall Towing Jehovah was a very enjoyable read, based on a quirky and original idea; it would be shelved in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section of your bookstore, but you can also call it "Speculative Fiction" or "Magical Realism," and get more cred points when describing it to your lit snob friends. Most of the characters may be ridiculous, and the ending may be something of a cop out; but taken in the spirit of satire it's worth your time (and there are one or two characters who seem to have been Morrow's repository for "normal" human behavior, most notably the ship's captain and his priest/physicist sidekick) You'll also learn about a simply divine recipe for skin cream!

Tags: James Morrow, Towing Jehovah, literature, religion