Thursday

"Nigger" Revisited

Sure, there have been a lot of "op-ed" pieces and assorted other mainstream and alt-news articles on this whole Michael Richards nigger thing.

I am finally finding words (in print) that gel with my thinking, such as:

John Ridley's (LA Times) - There's no use banning the dreaded N-word, an expression no one should truly fear

"The solution to the "nigger" question is to blunt the weapon before it can be used, as gays have done with "queer" and women with "bitch." Aikido the word; turn it against your enemies. To do otherwise merely strengthens every bigot, every racist, every hate-monger, every closeted race-baiter (and has anyone discussed the irony of Trent Lott becoming the Senate minority whip?), every failed-actor-turned-comedian who wants to lash out and wound and bring low a black individual."

D-fucking-uh! I've been saying that forever. We all need to cease being so frightened by the boogiemen. Next thing you know Scrabble (tm) will be banned because one might form the word "chink" or something.

Go away, all of you.

[Note: And, like Paul Mooney could refrain from saying nigger for more than like 80 seconds]

The Swagger

As I see it, there are two kinds of people: those that absolutely LOVE when I see the omens and get "the swagger" going. Then there are you that are all like, "Oh no, he's got The Swagger again...you lay low and wait for it to blow (over)." You HATE it (and that makes you a hater, gator). And, I really don't hate you back either. Because I'm all love.

I guess there's a third type too. And, you're asking, "Er, what's the swagger?" as you pick your nose with your dirty ass fingernails. You voted for Rickey Santorum.

The Swagger is when I know that the shit's about to come/go down and the ART is going to flow for a good while. The paradigms change.

And with the swagger:
- The cream rose to the top
- The beaches eroded
- Collective minds and hearts were changed and broken
- The ride got really fine
- The set lists got tossed
- The guru opened up shop and decided to stay a while
- Only children said, "So!"
- The cell phones stopped ringing
Fortunately, the swagger only lasts for short, serious, and extremely intense periods. We wouldn't want me to die, right?

Dammit. <-- Yes, God Dammit!

Merkley???

'nuff said.

see the photography.

thank you.

That Makes Me Think Of... / New Perspectives Game


click image to enlarge

Up

Wednesday

We Used To Call 'Em "Bag Ladies"

New Amp from Uncle Rich

Untitled

Cliche


More California Carousel

Oh yeah, and Insurance Commissioner John Garamendi became Lt. Gov.

And Lt. Gov. Cruz Bust-a-Monte (Carlo) tried to become Insurance Commissioner but lost.

And State Treasurer Phil Angelides tried to become Governor but lost.

And State Controller Steve Westly tried to become Governor also, but lost in the primary.

So the good news is they got rid of the Mexican and the Greek guy. But now there's some woman as Secretary of State. And some Chinese dude is Controller.

Why can't they be happy with First Lady and Mayor of Chinatown? Liberals!

Back On The Scooter(s)

ah, 'tis the season
crickets are in the basement
i have to catch them

resuscitation
commitment proclamations
we will survive this

will the stars align?
without the massive damage
to you and to yours

Tuesday

No!


Okay, it’s almost December and it’s been somewhat of an ill year for music. Ill good or ill bad, I’m not telling. Usually around this time I start waxing about some “record of the year” bullshit.

Yes, The Roots “Game Theory” blew doors (that means it’s good), and TV on the Radio’s “Return to Cookie Mountain” was dezope (that means it’s good). Ghostface Killa? Genius, but lacking (that means it’s good).

Beck? Eh, the information? G.Love? Whatever-ade. Bob Dylan’s “Modern Times” was just fine. Good things to listen to, sure. Kevin Federline? Hard to explain the allure I have for Kevin, natch. fl oh no! I’ll never do that again.

Loved Cat Power's "The Greatest" - was that even this year?

[insert drum roll here]

Cue: “Wamp Wamp (What It Do).” Yep. No! No! No! The late entry, the November entry fucking everything up! I bet you ain’t never heard of no fucking Clipse either. No!

“Hell Hath No Fury” just might be the album of the year. No! No! Hello New New World. No! No! Look out world I’m on my way.

Easily the best production (Neptunes – Chad Hugo, duh); better sonic properties than Cookie Mountain (close, but less portentous). Better sonic properties than “Fishscale” (no silly-ass self-important skits) No! No! Say it ain’t so, nigga!

Best album cover by a mile too. Overall, the realest, meanest, smartest, most geniusest, streetest shit in a while. I’m feeling the same gut knots that “Straight Out Of Compton” gave me way back in the day. But, this production is…over the line. Good rhyme, good flow, good package. Re-ups, yo!

Of course, I’ve only listened to the record twice (and I love “Night in the Ruts” so who am I?).

Perhaps it is the album of the year. But, there's a month left, right?

Just Stupid

No Comment

Laugh Until the Snot Runs

The N-Word

Now I’m weighing in.

Firstly, this whole ban-on-the-N-word bullshit has just got to go. What the fuck is that? Now we can’t say nigger. Nigger, please. Please don’t be retarded. Oh, we can’t say the R-word either. Dang. Nigger, when properly used, is A-OK. If it’s ever to be squashed, it has to be utilized in many, funny ways.

It’s not that Michael Richards said the word “nigger” like a hundred sixteen times angrily, it’s the context of him saying nigger. Remember, when Sarah Silverman said nigger, that shit was funny as hell. I’d pay to hear her say nigger (to me, especially).

But, in context of MR’s so-called outburst, let’s review the following:

"Shut up! Fifty years ago we'd have had you upside down with a fucking fork up your ass!" he screamed angrily. "Throw his ass out. He's a nigger! Nigger! Nigger!"


[Strike 1]

"Well, you interrupted me, pal. That's what happens when you interrupt the white man."


[Strike 2]

"I have enough money I could have you put in jail," and "When I wake up tomorrow, I'll be rich, and you'll still be a nigger!"


[Strike 3]

Ha! No wonder Jamie Foxx wants to kick his ass, he deserves a good ass-kicking.

But, please don't ban the word nigger (or retard, or republican).

Bill Lockyer - Jesus!

Treasurer?! What, is California playing musical chairs with elected positions? Next, he'll be Lieutenant Governor. Lieutenant is a funny word.

"With 100 percent of the precincts reporting, Lockyer defeated Board of Equalization member Claude Parrish 55 percent to 37 percent. Lockyer’s margin of victory was more than 1.1 million votes."
So, the Governor has Jerry "Moonbeam" Brown as AG, and Bill Westwood Lockyer as Treasurer? And speaking of Lieutenant Governor, next thing you know, California will have that fat bastard Cruz "the butcher" Bustamante as lieutenant.

Ha! That's so absurd, it's hilarious!

Monday

Meta



Jerry + 17

Oh crap. With all the wacky politics I totally forgot about the California Attorney General race. You know, Jerry Brown's run at chief, autonomous lawyer of the world's most influential country: California.

And he actually won. By 17 percentage points. Damn, man!

And nutty liberal superlobbyist Ronnie Dellums gets Oakland City. Double damn, man!

Bill "prison rape" Lockyer? Where does he go now?

Oh, California...

Tuesday

Night in the Ruts

Get Out Of Jail Free

Is It Soup Yet?

Like Shooting Fish...

Attic Day

On 11/20/06, Rich wrote:

Upcoming Reminder

December 3 is Attic Day.
--------------------------------
Indeed.

It took me a moment to remember the significance of these two hardwired and very familiar words: "Attic Day." Instinctively, I knew. But, as is typical nowadays, it took a moment to recall in all clarity.

Yes, we do all periodically need to crack open that laddered door and take secret and not so secret peeks at some of that shit. Now that it's not so hot up there and not so cold, we can comfortably look around and figure some shit out.

What is Attic Day? It's a time to look around at all the little boxes and cubes that our lives have become and remind ourselves that the contents contain all the parts that create the sum and the little time capsule treasures planted long ago. Future gifts, anyone? If I have a million future gifts spread all over the place I've probably forgotten 990,000. The attic. The external drive. The couch cushions.

Indeed.

The Awesome News

November 21,2006 | BRADLEY BEACH, N.J. -- A man was struck and killed early Tuesday by a commuter train sent to pick up passengers stranded after their first train hit and killed a woman, authorities said.

Monday

Right Said George

I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me

I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts
And I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan
New York and Japan

And I'm too sexy for your party
Too sexy for your party
No way I'm disco dancing

I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I do my little turn on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car
Too sexy by far
And I'm too sexy for my hat
Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that

I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my

'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat
Poor pussy poor pussy cat
I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me

And I'm too sexy for this song

Sunday

Feelin' Fed

Haters!

Say what you want, but I'm putting my credibility on this one statement:

Kevin's "Playing with Fire" does have some problems. But, those problems are minor and could be avoided with the right producer. The kid has possibility. He needs to take this divorce and start a new record now. I should produce it.

I'm down with this record. Dumb moments, weak moments and all. I'm all good.

Haters need to step and get them some quality headphones + shit.

Thursday

Tres



Make Way for Chester


I'm actually impressed with the giant nuts of the republicans in the senate. I am even more impressed, however, with one Chester "Trent" Lott. Given up for politically dead, he picks his moment and rises - if not from said dead - to the MF-in' occasion!

Everybody. Everyone. Everywhere. Give it up for Chester!

Here's what I admire: Chester could've simply rode it out. He's been in the Senate since forever (well, since 1973); house for a generation, senate for a generation. He was head dogg in the senate until that, uh, thing, er, about Jesse (not Jackson, yo). But, he could have rode the pine into eternity. But, he didn't and I have to love him to death about that.

After winning his seat with 64% of the Mississippi vote, Trent felt golden, I suppose. So he let 'em know that he intended to be the big man again (this time Minority Whip).

This development may not be something you liberals "like." But it's something you just gotta "love." Love it! Dammit, love it! Balls of insanity. Ramp the insanity!

In a Storm





Monday

Playing with Retards

OK, I just put the headphones on. Yes, my Kevin Federline record arrived over the weekend and I’m just getting around to listening to it. K-Fed ain’t in no hurry. I am one of the 6,500 humans that bought this record.

Yikes, the reviews are awful. On Metacritic.com, the record only gets a total score of 15. That’s pretty low all right. It’s called “Playing With Fire.” Haters just can’t play with Kevin’s fire.

Alls I have to ask is, why all the haters? This album is pure genius. Pure genius, in fact, has been Federline’s life, lifestyle, and M.O. He is a top-tier conceptual artist. And amen for him. Who else could do this? This record (and subsequent divorce) is testament to his art. It’s his defining moment.

Seriously, growing up on the streets of Fresno, you have to aspire to something, right? You could aspire to be a policeman, an astronaut, the president, a rock and roll star, [hold on, I’m laughing aloud here because this record is pretty fucking bad – oh shit!] a baller, etc. You live so you aspire. I wanted to be a symphonic percussionist or a psychologist. But, I didn’t have the skills of K-Fed. Think about that for a minute.

Mr. Federline’s skills are incredible. It appears he can do whatever he wants: marry and force America’s sweetheart to have two of his children (to add to his collection of seed-spread). Sure he fancies himself a rapper. Don’t we all really? But, he did what any wannabe, suburban, rhyme happy white boy does: he made a CD. But, instead of using Garage Band, he had fantasy camp at a real studio with real engineers and producers. Good for him. Does he owe anyone any advance money? Nope. Brittney paid for it all.

Am I the only person to see this “lifestyle art” for what it is?

So bad that it’s incredible. Reminds me a bit of Dread Zeppelin or when Anthrax rapped with Public Enemy (or when Aerosmith rapped with Run-D.M.C.). Sure, it’s off. Sure, it’s quite bad. But, fuck ain’t it dripping with chocolate, Maraschino cherries, and syphilis.

Federline is the epitome of the American dream. Rags to riches. The “you can do it” spirit. Fame is fleeting. Fame is splendid. Fame carries with it a huge responsibility. The best thing he can do with this responsibility is to ignore it, squander it, and spit all over it. I mean, look at Axl Rose. Look at D’Angelo. Look at Easy E. Okay, sure they have all produced and sold incredible records. But, why work hard when you don’t have to? He didn’t land on a pile of cash. A pile of cash landed on him.

Genius. Terrible album. But, genius.

"I Don't Believe in Peter Pan...

...Frankenstein or Super Man..."
So the B’s latest musical fascination is Queen’s “Bicycle Race” from the 1978 album “Jazz.”
You know, Queen. Yes, that Queen of “We Will Rock You” fame. You know, Jazz, the album with the naked female bicycle race (god, do I remember it!). But, there was some excellent music too.
Few bands embodied the pure excess of the '70s like Queen. Embracing the exaggerated pomp of prog rock and heavy metal, as well as vaudevillian music hall, the British quartet delved deeply into camp and bombast, creating a huge, mock-operatic sound with layered guitars and overdubbed vocals. Queen's music was a bizarre yet highly accessible fusion of the macho and the fey. - All Music Guide

"Macho and the fey" is absolutely perfect. Fey! Exactly.
And, sure, now that I think of it, “Bicycle Race” is the perfect device for introduction to prog rock, math rock and metal for a four-year-old child. It’s silly on the surface (like me). Filled with a bunch of then-current pop references and an advertisement for a bicycle race. But, you know what? It smokes. The guitar sounds are huge, the time shifts from 4/4 to 6/8 to 4/4, competing duple and triple meters, dueling guitars, perfect execution, and tasty bass (John Deacon, right?) make Bicycle fun and challenging if you get into it (over and over like I’m hearing it lately). And, of note, the drumming is first rate. Seriously. Sure Freddy Mercury is the front man for this iconic quartet, but you cannot say that Brian May and Roger Taylor are not bad ass performers. Yeah, Queen rocks. Good for the B. Good for me!

“Bicycle Race” catches Queen at the very top of their trip. They are playing clean and hard, they are jamming about nonsense, insider goofs. They are in the zone and ahead of the beat. They are perfect.
"I don't want to be a candidate for Viet Nam or Watergate."

Thursday

West & East


Gloating

Now it's time to gloat. Officially.

Do it!

Morticia Miscalculamation

[What's great is I only have write about half of my material anymore]

"I'm sure Douche Bush fired Rumsfeld yesterday in part to limit press coverage of the Democratic victory. Bump them off of a few headlines.

But he screwed up because the best thing to do would have been to have animatronic Nancy Pelosi all over the teevee for a couple of news cycles. Give the people a couple days of THAT nightmare and then come back from Crawford all loose and jokey and rested from a long weekend of tequila, cocaine, and Mexican blow jobs.

'Heya guys! I'm back! Ditcha miss me? [huh-huh] Who let Granma Morticia in here? [snort]. Jesus, somebody open a window (if you know what I mean?). Hey granny, pull muh finger [hee-hee]'"

- The Otter

Ex-Senator Mope

"The Allen loss is oh so sweet too. President Allen? Nope. Mope Allen.

I love that this all came down to Macaca. Without Macaca, [he] would be President-elect Allen '08 instead of George "Mope" Allen, douchebag. Fucker.

Yankee, go home!"

-A contributor from "out west"

----------------------------

"This fellow here, over here with the yellow shirt, macaca, or whatever his name is. He's with my opponent. He's following us around everywhere. And it's just great.... Let's give a welcome to macaca, here. Welcome to America and the real world of Virginia."

-George "Mope" Allen

Wednesday

Kevin's New Record

Order Date: November 8, 2006
Order #: 102-2256847-6668118

You can still add items to this order using 1-Click ordering.

Items not yet shipped:
Delivery estimate: November 10, 2006
  • 1 of: Playing With Fire [Explicit Lyrics]
    Sold by: Amazon Export Sales, Inc.
-------------------------------------------------------------

I don't really know, but I somehow just had to order the new Kevin's new record. I'm not sure why, but I'm guessing that there are reasons that my intuition could answer.

Here are possible explanations of my behavior:

1) I'm curious: It can't be as bad as they all say. I don't really know much about the guy but it seems that he is getting judged by things other than his art (I know, that's funny as shit).

2) How bad could it be, he continues to hook up and convince women to have all of his babies.

3) Maybe it is that bad but there are some killer samples I could use (since he can't afford legal representation to sue me).

4) I really don't know, but I'm somehow magically in his corner. Whatever.

5) Perhaps I'm crazy.

Life is funny sometimes.

NOW it's Time to Gloat

Later, Rummy. Don't let the door hit you in the ass, fucker.

Never Mind

"Today is a day for gloating."

-RPW

Ah, screw it. I'm happy as a goddamn puppy with a mouth full of dog shit.

"Republicans surrendered the Texas seat of former Majority Leader Tom DeLay, who left the House after being charged in a campaign finance scheme, the Ohio seat once held by Bob Ney, who resigned after pleading guilty in a lobbying scandal, and the Florida district of Mark Foley, who stepped down after the disclosure that he sent sexually explicit messages to male congressional pages.

In Pennsylvania, Democrats defeated Curt Weldon in the fallout from a federal corruption investigation and Don Sherwood who admitted to a long-term affair with a much younger woman who says he choked her."

And, Here’s My Problem

I was asked if I was excited this morning. My first reaction was, “Well, no. There’s still this bogus war, the president is still a mope, the vice president is still evil, there are two senate races still in play, and I have little confidence in the democrats running shit in an organized, responsible fashion.” Not what people were expecting from me this morning.

Excited? Sure. Yea, excited. Right. I am wearing my “In a Blue State of Mind” shirt this morning.

And, here’s my problem: Now is not a time for celebration. Responsible democrats would have had a muted celebratory message – unified:

“This is not a time for hubris. This is a time to instill confidence in people all over the world that the United States government is a serious, intelligent, responsible and representative body that acts in the fiscal and social best interest of all Americans.”

Period. Wry grin at best. No dancing, no confetti. No champagne. Muted.

This is not a time for hubris, or (overt) payback (I say “overt” since that shit is due, my friends). But hubris? We have no time for hubris. Impeachment? No. Not yet anyway.

“We have to work very hard to responsibly resolve the war that George W. Bush and Dick Cheney started. We expect the president and the vice president to work with us to do just that.”

Here’s where we cut a deal. George and Dick comply and they escape articles of impeachment, they step out of line, we start that fucked-up process again. Why hold off on impeachment? It’s only payback and 1) we need to move forward as a people, 2) There’s way too much repair to complete, and 3) The democrats need to focus on their shit first. Bush & Cheney…forget them. This is an opportunity for the dems, maybe a last opportunity because the republican machine isn’t shutting off anytime soon. It’s refueling. If the dems don’t get their act together quickly and consistently, the pendulum will swing back – hard and ’08 will be pure fantasy for them.

In fact, I’m willing to come back after some tough love. Show me SOMETHING, ANYTHING and I will come back for the ’08 primary. ANYTHING!

Excited about last night? For sending to these louts to the dugout, Santorum, Pombo, Kitty, Burns & Allen, Ehrlich, Steele, DeWine, Chafee, Talent, and the rest of that dangerous gang, I applaud America.

We welcome Deval Patrick, Bob Casey, Sheldon Whitehouse, Mike O’Malley, Ben, Cardin, and obviously others, to the big stage.

With power comes responsibility. Don't be dicks.

Love

I LOVE this game. I LOVE this shit:


"Bush made just one phone call on Tuesday night -- to Rep. Tom Reynolds, R-N.Y., chairman of the House GOP's election effort, who was re-elected."

- Associated Press, November 8, 2006, 9:48 a.m. from article titled, "Bush Extends Democrats Congratulations."

Tuesday

Game Time

Today is the biggest midterm since '94.

I'll be at a precinct all day working it; doing my part for a fair and accurate election. Whining will not be tolerated. You should be there too.

I love the battle, I savor the war. It's game time, bitches!

Stories to follow tomorrow or later...

Monday

Ask Ty…November 6

Q: Ty, two questions. Is it true your name "Ty" is short for Tylenol? And, is that your real skin, or are you tanned?

Just wondering,

F. McJewelry

Ty: F., good question and an even better observation. Indeed, my skin is light brown. Cocoa moving toward mocha. Brown is a natural, down-to-earth neutral color. It is found in earth, wood, and stone. Brown represents wholesomeness and earthiness. While it might be considered a little on the dull side, it also represents steadfastness, simplicity, friendliness, dependability, and health. Although blue is the typical corporate color, UPS (United Parcel Service) has built their business around the dependability associated with brown.

I am brown. “Tanned”? No. Brown? Yes. Sienna, bay, sand, wood, dapple, auburn, chestnut, nut-brown, cinnamon, russet, tawny, chocolate, tan, brunette, fawn, liver-colored, mahogany, oak, bronze, terra-cotta, toast, umber, cocoa, coffee, copper, ecru, ginger, hazel, khaki, ochre, puce, snuff, and poop. Brown.

Yes, F., this is my real skin color.

No, Ty is not short for Tylenol although some of the kids attempted to call me that on occasion in middle and high school (along with Tyfus, Tyful, Thai stick, TyTy, and TJ). But, it never stuck. Didn’t get a rise. I knew a couple of Tylers, a Tyson. Rarely, there was another Tyrone. I am a Tyrone. But, Tylenol?

No, F., My name is not short for Tylenol.

Just a guess. - Ty

The Good

Between the billions of years of molten hell of the new Earth, and the billions of years of frozen hell that follows lies...

Between the Trillions of years of fire and chaos of the new universe and trillions of years of static cold that follow lies...

Between the horrible and the terrible lies...

The Good

-------------------

[thanks to BDW in FLA]