Watch the teaser here. Beware, it's HD. And of course, Quicktime is required.
30 July 2008
November, Why Dost Thou Linger So Near The Horizon?
This looks completely and totally sick...
Watch the teaser here. Beware, it's HD. And of course, Quicktime is required.
Watch the teaser here. Beware, it's HD. And of course, Quicktime is required.
29 July 2008
Slim And Sexy
So my beloved Apple keyboard was starting to get old, and since I never need much of an excuse to spend money at The Apple Store (I bought Logic Studio last week, totally rad), I decided to spring for the new Apple keyboard.
My initial reaction, when it was first introduced, was one of skepticism. I wasn't really sure if the new form factor would work. It seemed slim only for the sake of being slim. While this may be true, I have been surprised by how much I love this thing. It is slim and sexy, as clearly evidenced by this picture I yanked off some other guys site, and the keys, as well as their response, feel sexy as all hell.
For some of you this might seem a tad (maybe more so) geeky, but I have always been the type that loves to relish in the geekiness of my Apple devotion. The fact that my little new car has not one but two apple stickers on it should attest to said geekiness.
But I don't care. All the detractors can go buy a PC.
Oh, and speaking of PC's, have you seen Microsucks new attempt to counter the gobs and gobs of heaping bad press Vista has managed to roll in? Check it out here. It's an interesting approach, even if it does seem a little suspicious. As you watch it, see if you can count how many times they actually show a screen shot of this "Mojave" thing. I counted zero. And I suspect I may be right.
The conspiracy folk among you, might already be hatching the same thought that I did. If they don't bother showing us this "Mojave" thing, then how do we know they aren't using something else instead? It might seem a little far-fetched, but the retards in Redmond could be getting a little desperate. I mean, if, when Apple puts out Snow Leopard, people start reverting back to OS 9, en masse, then Apple might get a little flustered, too.
Joe bless Apple.
Oh, and by the way, the Mojave guys were nice enough to tally up the stats of their recent study, and they nicely listed that a double-digit percentage (14, I think it was) of their participants were Mac devotees. I am curious if they bothered to ask that 14% if they had any interest in switching to "Mojave" now that they had a moment to play with it. Notice they didn't bother to list that statistic.
My initial reaction, when it was first introduced, was one of skepticism. I wasn't really sure if the new form factor would work. It seemed slim only for the sake of being slim. While this may be true, I have been surprised by how much I love this thing. It is slim and sexy, as clearly evidenced by this picture I yanked off some other guys site, and the keys, as well as their response, feel sexy as all hell.
For some of you this might seem a tad (maybe more so) geeky, but I have always been the type that loves to relish in the geekiness of my Apple devotion. The fact that my little new car has not one but two apple stickers on it should attest to said geekiness.
But I don't care. All the detractors can go buy a PC.
Oh, and speaking of PC's, have you seen Microsucks new attempt to counter the gobs and gobs of heaping bad press Vista has managed to roll in? Check it out here. It's an interesting approach, even if it does seem a little suspicious. As you watch it, see if you can count how many times they actually show a screen shot of this "Mojave" thing. I counted zero. And I suspect I may be right.
The conspiracy folk among you, might already be hatching the same thought that I did. If they don't bother showing us this "Mojave" thing, then how do we know they aren't using something else instead? It might seem a little far-fetched, but the retards in Redmond could be getting a little desperate. I mean, if, when Apple puts out Snow Leopard, people start reverting back to OS 9, en masse, then Apple might get a little flustered, too.
Joe bless Apple.
Oh, and by the way, the Mojave guys were nice enough to tally up the stats of their recent study, and they nicely listed that a double-digit percentage (14, I think it was) of their participants were Mac devotees. I am curious if they bothered to ask that 14% if they had any interest in switching to "Mojave" now that they had a moment to play with it. Notice they didn't bother to list that statistic.
A Bad Case Of The Shakes (No Shrink Needed)
So Z went to DisneyLand with his crazy ass Mother this week. I found out about it a mere two days before they left. She called me up, which I am never all that happy about, and told me that she needed to pick up Z on Saturday night after she gets off of work. I told her no. Which of course pissed her off. I proceeded to explain that we were going to a baseball game that night and he wasn't going to miss it. She said that they were leaving at five in the morning on Sunday, and I replied by stating that I would bring him to her house afterwards, but he was not going to miss the game.
Needless to say, I spent the whole of my Sunday without Z, which is never fun for me, especially when I have to spend it with my sister and her family. Let me clarify that before Mooch takes that the wrong way. Playing in the pool all day with all my nieces and nephews only serves to remind me that my son is not with me, which only depresses me further. There's certainly nothing wrong with my sister or her family.
Anyway, Z was supposed to call me when he got to California, but being a lad of four, he tends to forget those things in his Mickey Mouse-inspired excitement. So I told his Mother to have him call me. Sunday goes by and I hear nothing. Monday does the same thing. Tuesday morning, I call her cell to make sure he is okay, and get only a voicemail. So I call Z's older brother, Marlon (who went with). Voicemail.
That's no good. Then later at work, I catch wind of the earthquake in Southern California. That only served to get me even more worried. So I called again. This time, Marlon answered. I asked if they were all okay, and spoke to Z for a little bit. He didn't even know what an earthquake was, so I chose not to open his mind to something that: 1) might only cause him to worry instead of having fun, and 2) might take a hell of a long time to explain in the vernacular of a (frighteningly intelligent) four-year-old. Z is really smart, but he is still only four. His magic poop theory and unplanned pregnancy scare should serve as evidence of that.
I was glad to hear that, not only had Z arrived safely, but he was unphased by the earthquake. His Mother then told me that they were staying an extra day, and that I was not going to be getting him back until Thursday night.
And that blows. On so many levels.
Needless to say, I spent the whole of my Sunday without Z, which is never fun for me, especially when I have to spend it with my sister and her family. Let me clarify that before Mooch takes that the wrong way. Playing in the pool all day with all my nieces and nephews only serves to remind me that my son is not with me, which only depresses me further. There's certainly nothing wrong with my sister or her family.
Anyway, Z was supposed to call me when he got to California, but being a lad of four, he tends to forget those things in his Mickey Mouse-inspired excitement. So I told his Mother to have him call me. Sunday goes by and I hear nothing. Monday does the same thing. Tuesday morning, I call her cell to make sure he is okay, and get only a voicemail. So I call Z's older brother, Marlon (who went with). Voicemail.
That's no good. Then later at work, I catch wind of the earthquake in Southern California. That only served to get me even more worried. So I called again. This time, Marlon answered. I asked if they were all okay, and spoke to Z for a little bit. He didn't even know what an earthquake was, so I chose not to open his mind to something that: 1) might only cause him to worry instead of having fun, and 2) might take a hell of a long time to explain in the vernacular of a (frighteningly intelligent) four-year-old. Z is really smart, but he is still only four. His magic poop theory and unplanned pregnancy scare should serve as evidence of that.
I was glad to hear that, not only had Z arrived safely, but he was unphased by the earthquake. His Mother then told me that they were staying an extra day, and that I was not going to be getting him back until Thursday night.
And that blows. On so many levels.
23 July 2008
22 July 2008
Future Poop
I found these pics on the memory card in my camera today. These are the photographic evidence that I do actually make those deep dish pies from scratch.
This is the dough rising. It had to rise for a couple of hours before we could compact it into the pans and spackle it with all the deep-dish-wonderfulness.
Here's a close-up of the dough. If you look close enough, you can see the individual grains of corn meal. Yummy.
This is the secret to good pepperoni pizza. Grind your pepperoni.
Mushrooms, onions, tomatoes and peppers. Plus a bunch of spices. And tons of garlic.
Sausage. Lots of it.
Now here's the coolest part: All of this stuff is now poop.
Do you need further proof that I actually cooked it? Check this post out.
This is the dough rising. It had to rise for a couple of hours before we could compact it into the pans and spackle it with all the deep-dish-wonderfulness.
Here's a close-up of the dough. If you look close enough, you can see the individual grains of corn meal. Yummy.
This is the secret to good pepperoni pizza. Grind your pepperoni.
Mushrooms, onions, tomatoes and peppers. Plus a bunch of spices. And tons of garlic.
Sausage. Lots of it.
Now here's the coolest part: All of this stuff is now poop.
Do you need further proof that I actually cooked it? Check this post out.
Noggin
Here's a shot of Noggin playing Z's drums. He thought the fact that Z had drums was pretty damn cool. He didn't seem to care about my nine (now ten) guitars.
That's okay, because drums are quite a bit cooler than guitars.
That's okay, because drums are quite a bit cooler than guitars.
Pong Vondelus
"Pong vondelus dodendum, en zugu vin dilio. Von weizen der flippack. Der schnoozel trin vuppernund.
Pookie pookie nonners. Ter doody dons ven schlepperqua."
--Fourth Century Andermorpheon Grand Master, Vito Drukert Grongeropoulo
Pookie pookie nonners. Ter doody dons ven schlepperqua."
--Fourth Century Andermorpheon Grand Master, Vito Drukert Grongeropoulo
21 July 2008
20 July 2008
The Dark Knight
So I finally broke down and saw Batman Begins last night. I figured since I was planning on seeing The Dark Knight tonight, that I should probably watch part one first, since it constitutes the genesis of a completely new story line, since Joel Schumacher single-handedly ruined the previous franchise. Well, not single-handedly if you consider the fact that neither Val Kilmer nor George Clooney really fit the role at all. Michael Keaton was perfect, but Christian Bale is just a little better. And I do mean a little, even though he is a Welshman.
Anyway, I thought Batman Begins was great, and I can't wait to see The Dark Knight. And I heard that the posthumous Oscar buzz was right on the money, but sometimes you have to take things like that with a grain of salt.
I guess I'll see tonight.
Anyway, I thought Batman Begins was great, and I can't wait to see The Dark Knight. And I heard that the posthumous Oscar buzz was right on the money, but sometimes you have to take things like that with a grain of salt.
I guess I'll see tonight.
Number Ten
So here are a few pics of my new baby. It's a Dean Exotica. I've been looking for a blue Dean Exotica for years. This is guitar number ten, and yes, I plan on buying more.
The Army Of The Twelve Monkeys And The Curse Of Don Quixote
Whilst perusing the documentary section of my local Zia superstore, I found a copy of Lost in La Mancha, which is a making-of doc about the ill-fated production of Terry Gilliam's The Man Who Killed Don Quixote. It was a great flick. It was funny-as-hell, while at the same time being profoundly sad, since the film Gilliam was trying to make had been a lifelong dream of his. The production was plagued from the start by every conceivable production problem, before the whole thing collapsed after only six days of shooting.
Gilliam made one of my favorite films of all time, The Fisher King. While perusing his works, I noticed that he made a film called, Twelve Monkeys, which I remember being listed as one of the 500 films you must see before you buy the farm. So I picked it up for about 5 quid.
The film blew me away. Apart from being replete with depth and symbolism, it has the distinction of containing the finest screen performances from both Bruce Willis and Brad Pitt. It was totally trippy and the ending really freaked me out.
Terry Gilliam is a directorial genius. I hope he gets the chance to make Quixote someday. But I doubt he will. It seems to be cursed. Orson Wells tried it 50 years ago, and his attempt floundered for a decade before he died, leaving the film unfinished.
Gilliam made one of my favorite films of all time, The Fisher King. While perusing his works, I noticed that he made a film called, Twelve Monkeys, which I remember being listed as one of the 500 films you must see before you buy the farm. So I picked it up for about 5 quid.
The film blew me away. Apart from being replete with depth and symbolism, it has the distinction of containing the finest screen performances from both Bruce Willis and Brad Pitt. It was totally trippy and the ending really freaked me out.
Terry Gilliam is a directorial genius. I hope he gets the chance to make Quixote someday. But I doubt he will. It seems to be cursed. Orson Wells tried it 50 years ago, and his attempt floundered for a decade before he died, leaving the film unfinished.
Good Cop / Bad Cop
Z's cousin Noggin spent the night again this weekend. Noggin loved Zack's nerf dart guns, and they started playing cops and robbers. They were both cops, and they would rush into the room, guns drawn and confront the (invisible) robbers. One of them seemed to be the level-headed, by-the-book type of cop, and one of them seemed to be the type that would rush in shouting, "Put your hands in the air!" And then immediately start shooting.
Guess which one was the bad cop?
Z wouldn't even give the robber time to put his hands up before he pumped him full of lead. Well, foam darts, actually. Noggin kept getting pissed. He kept telling Z that you can't shoot the robber if he puts his hands up. To which Z replied, "He didn't put his hands up fast enough!"
Eventually, Noggin got so pissed that he pulled his gun on Z.
So Z shot him.
I'm thinking of making this sleep-over thing a regular occurrence. This is two weekends in a row and we have had a blast. Except that this weekend, Z was up until 12:30 in the morning building a fort out of his gargantuan stuffed animals. This would have been fine, if he had still gotten a fill nights sleep, but he was still up a the crack of dawn. So he was cranky all day, but we still had fun.
Lots of fun.
Guess which one was the bad cop?
Z wouldn't even give the robber time to put his hands up before he pumped him full of lead. Well, foam darts, actually. Noggin kept getting pissed. He kept telling Z that you can't shoot the robber if he puts his hands up. To which Z replied, "He didn't put his hands up fast enough!"
Eventually, Noggin got so pissed that he pulled his gun on Z.
So Z shot him.
I'm thinking of making this sleep-over thing a regular occurrence. This is two weekends in a row and we have had a blast. Except that this weekend, Z was up until 12:30 in the morning building a fort out of his gargantuan stuffed animals. This would have been fine, if he had still gotten a fill nights sleep, but he was still up a the crack of dawn. So he was cranky all day, but we still had fun.
Lots of fun.
17 July 2008
This Might Be The Coolest Thing I Have Ever Seen...
A practicing monk fronting an Italian metal band? This might be better than that duet with Bruce Dickinson and Montserrat Caballé.
I can't understand anything, but the substance of it all is very clear.
I can't understand anything, but the substance of it all is very clear.
12 July 2008
Headaches, iTunes And The Coolest George Carlin Collection Ever
I've had a very strange headache all day. It has been getting progressively worse since I got home. It is really bugging me now, but Z is having a sleep over, so I can't pump myself full of med's, because I have to be responsible for my nephew Noggin as well.
Also, the new iTunes update (v. 7.7) has a bug in it that causes a 15 lag in the mounting process for an iPod. If you haven't downloaded the update, then don't. And for those of you still using Windows, I read online that it is a Windows problem, too. At least it isn't as bad as the last iTunes bug. Back in, I think, version 3, there was a bug that erased an iPod when you mounted it. That pissed a lot of people off.
Also, I finally got my George Carlin DVD box set in the mail. 14 discs. Totally badass. All of his HBO specials, plus a few extras thrown in for good measure. That officially rounds out my George Carlin collection, which I am still a little sad to say will only have two more additions. Later this year, there is slated to be released the HBO special that was taped back in March. I think it was March. 1 CD. 1 DVD. And then that will be it.
And my head still hurts.
Also, the new iTunes update (v. 7.7) has a bug in it that causes a 15 lag in the mounting process for an iPod. If you haven't downloaded the update, then don't. And for those of you still using Windows, I read online that it is a Windows problem, too. At least it isn't as bad as the last iTunes bug. Back in, I think, version 3, there was a bug that erased an iPod when you mounted it. That pissed a lot of people off.
Also, I finally got my George Carlin DVD box set in the mail. 14 discs. Totally badass. All of his HBO specials, plus a few extras thrown in for good measure. That officially rounds out my George Carlin collection, which I am still a little sad to say will only have two more additions. Later this year, there is slated to be released the HBO special that was taped back in March. I think it was March. 1 CD. 1 DVD. And then that will be it.
And my head still hurts.
09 July 2008
Hammer Smashed Face
Death metal is an art form. Few people agree with that statement, but I believe it firmly. Earlier this week, I picked up the new DVD set from Cannibal Corpse. Three discs. All their music videos. A metric tonne of live performances, and a three hour (that's right, three hour) documentary about the first two decades of Cannibal Corpse.
My introduction to the band, which I would venture to say is probably most people's introduction to the band, was a rather brief appearance in Ace Ventura. Jim Carrey insisted on them because they were (maybe still are) his favorite band.
I was really impressed with the documentary. Even at it's gargantuan length, it was entirely watchable, produced shot and edited very well.
Why do I tell you this when I know you probably don't care? Because I was rooting around on Wikipedia looking at their discography and found an interesting, and rather humorous quote by a snooty critic. Probably American.
"If vomit were a movie, [Cannibal Corpse] would be the soundtrack."
My introduction to the band, which I would venture to say is probably most people's introduction to the band, was a rather brief appearance in Ace Ventura. Jim Carrey insisted on them because they were (maybe still are) his favorite band.
I was really impressed with the documentary. Even at it's gargantuan length, it was entirely watchable, produced shot and edited very well.
Why do I tell you this when I know you probably don't care? Because I was rooting around on Wikipedia looking at their discography and found an interesting, and rather humorous quote by a snooty critic. Probably American.
"If vomit were a movie, [Cannibal Corpse] would be the soundtrack."
01 July 2008
En Fume Den Cranio
My head has been aching all day. Surprise, surprise.
About two hours ago, my head started throbbing in a way that I haven't the ability to properly explain. Complete with nausea. No vomiting, yet. Just nausea.
But give it time. The vomiting will come.
Oh, and by the way...
I decided on a new name for my musical project. I have been operating under the guise of Psychedelic Excrement, but I had an epiphany today while I was rooting around at the bottom of a bag of Cheetos (crunchy) bag looking for the last few crumbs of cheesy wonderfulness, hoping that they could help to prolong the joy and utter euphoria that always accompanies the consumption of a bag of cheetos. My epiphany was the realization that Psychedelic Excrement may not be the best band name.
So I have changed it. My new band name is The Green Tea Bags. It has a nice ring to it. It flows easily from the lips. And it has this very retro 1960's feel to it. Because everyone in the 1960's had the word The at the beginning of their band name. Except for Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple. But one of those bands really sucked. And it wasn't the one with Ian Gillan.
All that, and the fact that The Green Tea Bags kind of sounds like a really bad scrotal infection. It sounds a bit gangrenous. And for some reason that strikes me as being a bit profound. I'm working on a mock-up of some potential cover art. I'm not really sure which way I want to go with it, so we'll have to see where the creativity fairy leads me.
Anyway, I certainly welcome feedback. So feel free to leave it. And remember that I am not one of those sissy's that gets their feelings hurt when confronted with negative feedback. So lay it on.
And also, remember that my album from my previous band, Psychedelic Excrement is still available, so e-mail me with any inquiries. And I still have a few copies of my first album, The Gasoline Dreams from my short-lived project with Ginger and Frankie called Equilibrium Nervosa. And those, of course aren't counting the Black Magic / Radio-Active Cheesecakes fiasco. But I don't want to talk about that.
Oh, and in case you're the curious type, the name of the Psychadelic Excrement album is "Walking in the dark with my head held high, my hands both tied and the vision of doom leading farther from the safety of my chamber, though the warmth and cantichoriseness I have experienced has made me embrace the phantasm that is leading me."
-namaste
About two hours ago, my head started throbbing in a way that I haven't the ability to properly explain. Complete with nausea. No vomiting, yet. Just nausea.
But give it time. The vomiting will come.
Oh, and by the way...
I decided on a new name for my musical project. I have been operating under the guise of Psychedelic Excrement, but I had an epiphany today while I was rooting around at the bottom of a bag of Cheetos (crunchy) bag looking for the last few crumbs of cheesy wonderfulness, hoping that they could help to prolong the joy and utter euphoria that always accompanies the consumption of a bag of cheetos. My epiphany was the realization that Psychedelic Excrement may not be the best band name.
So I have changed it. My new band name is The Green Tea Bags. It has a nice ring to it. It flows easily from the lips. And it has this very retro 1960's feel to it. Because everyone in the 1960's had the word The at the beginning of their band name. Except for Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple. But one of those bands really sucked. And it wasn't the one with Ian Gillan.
All that, and the fact that The Green Tea Bags kind of sounds like a really bad scrotal infection. It sounds a bit gangrenous. And for some reason that strikes me as being a bit profound. I'm working on a mock-up of some potential cover art. I'm not really sure which way I want to go with it, so we'll have to see where the creativity fairy leads me.
Anyway, I certainly welcome feedback. So feel free to leave it. And remember that I am not one of those sissy's that gets their feelings hurt when confronted with negative feedback. So lay it on.
And also, remember that my album from my previous band, Psychedelic Excrement is still available, so e-mail me with any inquiries. And I still have a few copies of my first album, The Gasoline Dreams from my short-lived project with Ginger and Frankie called Equilibrium Nervosa. And those, of course aren't counting the Black Magic / Radio-Active Cheesecakes fiasco. But I don't want to talk about that.
Oh, and in case you're the curious type, the name of the Psychadelic Excrement album is "Walking in the dark with my head held high, my hands both tied and the vision of doom leading farther from the safety of my chamber, though the warmth and cantichoriseness I have experienced has made me embrace the phantasm that is leading me."
-namaste
Norm MacDonald Owes Me Thirteen Bucks
A few days ago I was listening to an interview with George Carlin where he endorsed Norm MacDonald as a comedian. Now I have never been a fan of Norm MacDonald at all. I did think that Dirty Work was pretty funny, but apart from that the only funny thing I have ever heard come out of Norm's mouth is this video from The Daily Show. It is really disrespectful, but it is eye-watering in it's funniness. Norm weighs in about Steve Irwin (you knew him as the Crocodile Hunter), and his (tragic) death.
The memory of this video, coupled with George Carlin's endorsement, made me buy this when I happened to see it at the record store (yes, I still say record store):
Now here's my issue with it:
It sucks. It isn't funny. In fact it was so not funny, that it made me question Will Ferrell's capacity for funniness simply because he makes several (not funny) appearances. Is Will so afraid of Norm MacDonald that he can't bring himself to tell him he isn't funny?
If most of the CD's I buy have to have Parental Guidance labels on them (and they do), then this piece of garbage should have a label that warns potential buyers that the CD contains material which may not be funny to most people.
In the absence of this label, I think Norm should send me my money back. If I go to an Italian restaurant and order a bowl of linguine and clams and the waiter brings me a bowl of rotted, ruptured spleens, then I wouldn't pay for it. And the manager of said establishment wouldn't make me pay for it. And in all actuality, all Norm has released is a bowl of rotted, ruptured spleens compressed into the shape of a CD.
Don't buy this CD. In fact, don't ever buy anything from Norm MacDonald. Ever.
Until I get a check for $13.
The memory of this video, coupled with George Carlin's endorsement, made me buy this when I happened to see it at the record store (yes, I still say record store):
Now here's my issue with it:
It sucks. It isn't funny. In fact it was so not funny, that it made me question Will Ferrell's capacity for funniness simply because he makes several (not funny) appearances. Is Will so afraid of Norm MacDonald that he can't bring himself to tell him he isn't funny?
If most of the CD's I buy have to have Parental Guidance labels on them (and they do), then this piece of garbage should have a label that warns potential buyers that the CD contains material which may not be funny to most people.
In the absence of this label, I think Norm should send me my money back. If I go to an Italian restaurant and order a bowl of linguine and clams and the waiter brings me a bowl of rotted, ruptured spleens, then I wouldn't pay for it. And the manager of said establishment wouldn't make me pay for it. And in all actuality, all Norm has released is a bowl of rotted, ruptured spleens compressed into the shape of a CD.
Don't buy this CD. In fact, don't ever buy anything from Norm MacDonald. Ever.
Until I get a check for $13.
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