on the right.
blog search engine
In my quest for applaudable and standing ovationable blogs, I found a blog-specific search engine: ICEROCKET. I've also added their button to my stack: on the right.
on the right.
book recommendations: Sudden Mischief, Dark Rivers of the Heart, and The Shifting Realities of Philip K. Dick
Released in 1998, Sudden Mischief is among the easy readable and equally easily forgettable dozens of Robert B. Parker's Spencer detective series. I read Parker—almost solely—to learn how to utilize dialogue in my own writing more cleanly and effectively. As a master dialogian (dialogist?), Parker is capable of quickly moving his plot utilizing hundreds of pages of succinct dialogue, as if he were writing a screenplay. This chapter in the lives of Spencer, Susan, and Hawk differs slightly in that Parker attempts to utilize more description and Spencer doesn't kill anyone.
This paperback, available at used bookstores the world over for less than a cup of American Starbucks coffee, will keep you awake for about the same amount of time and—tomorrow—will be as memorable.
Dark Rivers of the Heart, published in 2000, is an abnormally unusual Dean Koontz novel because it contains nothing abnormal or unusual: no genetic mutations, no aliens, no other-worldly monsters, no alternate dimensions and no psych-powers. I read Koontz to watch and learn from his ability to smoothly switch character viewpoint as well as tense (whether returning from a flashback or from a story-line running parallel: never a hitch, always an invisible seam), to revel in his milieu descriptions, and to understand his use of suspense-heightening tone.
This 'evil-government' story: tech-spy thriller meets routine serial-killer, is more grounded in reality than what one expects from the twisted imagination of Koontz. It is available to borrow from your public library.
I've always adored Philip K. Dick's short stories more than his novels (which were never long). Although his voice is dark, pessimistic, and—at times—overly heavy, he has a keenly inquisitive eye on the questions: what is reality and what is life. His ability to imagine what-if and extrapolate a believable answer worked into an environment tickling with details, has always made me envious. This collection of his essays, speeches, and brief excerpts from his mammoth-8,000 page philosophical journal Exegesis (together with a helpful introduction by Lawrence Sutin) provides a perspective on Dick's sometimes whacky, sometimes ordinary, sometimes addled thoughts. (As if one were able to read his blog!) For speculative fiction fans, this book is worth the price of a new CD. Own it today. When in need of a reality check: read PKD.
film type results
Just revisiting my quiz. Not writing or creating for the next few days because my talents are required elsewhere.
book recommendation: Sin City
I enjoyed Frank Miller's Sin City: The Hard Goodbye more than I thought I would. I was sucked into reading (is 'view' more appropriate when there are more images to look at than words to read?) this graphic novel--the first of it's series--after watching a trailer for the soon to be released film and getting snagged by the unique, dark, computerized backgrounds with the characters in shadow.
Graphic novel fans will adore the characters and gritty milieu of this book (which I am certain will cause them to read the series). I, however, am not addicted to the viewing of images--needing words to slake my imagination's craving for fuel. So, I will not be viewing more of this series.
I will see the film, however, and include a review of it in my next film review article.
Urgrund (PKD artifact no 2132)
"Since every component of this art consists of manufactured and readymade products we must conclude that all digital renderings are 'readymades aided' and shitty works of assemblage." -- Snapperhead misquoting Philip K. Dick
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
Some Films are Bad, mmkay?
To accurately critique films one needs to be able to identify errors and mistakes made by filmmakers. Errors are the intentionally chosen—but visually jarring—visuals or sounds, which can be blamed on: producers, directors, cinematographers, and editors. Mistakes are unintended visuals that ‘slipped through’ the editing process.
In the multi-billion-dollar Hollywood-studio industry, mistakes and errors are unforgivable. When a big-budget movie contains obvious flaws, the dozens or even hundreds of people responsible (who were very well paid) should be punished. The only punishment available in our—the audience’s—toolbox is to ban the director’s movies from our pocketbook. Just don’t pay that director anymore.
I disagree with the stand that independent filmmakers, painted with the brush "artist," should be held to a lower standard, concerning their mistakes, but to a higher standard, concerning their errors, than studio filmmakers. Ban independent directors who make mistakes and errors equally with their higher paid Hollywood-craftsmen brethren.
Mistakes can be covered in one broad stroke. The most common mistake is film equipment in frame. Pinned or taped microphones (or batteries) visible under actors clothing; contact lenses in Cleopatra’s eyes; shadows of equipment or crew in scene; these filmmaker mistakes are the equivalent of a writer not proof-reading his work and sending it to his editor who doesn’t proof-read the work and sends it to a publisher, who doesn’t proof-read it before printing. To create a flawed movie—and not correct it’s mistakes—is sufficient reason to never pay to watch a film made by this director in the future.
I don't give a rat fuck that it was too expensive to re-shoot or too late because of the schedule. The director should have hired a better assistant director who should have been a better scheduler. This is not negotiable: Create bad work, don't get paid.
The movie, The Legend of Bagger Vance is rife with boom microphones at the top of the screen, which can only be attributed to: Robert Redford, the director. He may be a successful actor (I enjoyed his performance in Three Days of the Condor, for which I credit that director, Sydney Pollack). Some people admire Redford’s Sundance persona. But, face it. He's a poor director. I say: don’t pay him. Don’t rent The Horse Whisperer, if you haven’t wasted two hours with it yet and don’t pay to go see Aloft, which is due to be released the summer of 2005.
Errors are less general and, accordingly, can be listed.
SNAPRULE #1: Never do something different only once.
In The Upside of Anger, directed by Mike Binder, there is only one scene utilizing special effects. This strong, five-second scene jolts the remainder of the two-hour movie with its lone uniqueness. Although the main character sees things in ‘her minds eye’ three times—the head of a man she despises ‘explodes’, her dancing daughter ‘becomes’ the lead in a ballet, and her four children ‘instantly grow’ from children to adults—only one scene utilizes any special effects (blood spatter from the explosion and falling body parts). It becomes, like a gorilla in the bathroom, a focal point detrimental to the whole by it’s presence.
SNAPRULE #2: Plot continuity should never be lost.
This is not to imply that everything needs to be explained; some of the best stories ‘leave the audience hanging’. In The Upside of Anger, however, the main character is adamant with one of her daughters about where she is permitted to attend college. Fast-forward a few seasons. The daughter is in a hospital in another state and the main character must drive a long way to visit. Why? Did the daughter win a battle that ended on the cutting room floor? Was she attending the college she wanted? The audience should not have to wonder; one line of dialogue would have snipped this hanging plot thread.
Mike Binder has also directed poorly in the past: Blankman. After his errors in Upside of Anger, he should not get any of your future hard-earned money when he releases his next film Man About Town (and not just because it stars Ben Affleck, but because he’s an extremely unskilled director).
SNAPRULE #3: Never show the same scene twice.
In Swordfish, badly directed by Dominic Sena, the ‘money shot’ is re-shown in a flashback. Many thousands of bullet-shots and explosions in the street, the bank, and the surrounding vehicles are impressive. The second time around it’s, “Hey, did you guys see what it looks like to spend nine million dollars for seventy-two seconds worth of film? Let me show you again how great I am, just in case you missed how great I am.”
Dominic Sena repeats his ‘money shot’ in other movies: Gone in Sixty Seconds, and his film Kalifornia may only be good because of Brad Pitt’s abilities and not because of anything Sena accomplished as a director. Ban your families attendance at his upcoming films: A Normal Life, later this year, and Dreadnaught, next year.
In Ong Back: The Thai Warrior, one’s first instinct may be to forgive the director, Prachya Pinkaew, for repeatedly showing three different camera angles of every fantastic stunt, because he’s ‘working from a different palate’. That instinct would be fucking wrong. This mish-mash of camera angles roughly throws the viewer out of the story. Avoid paying to see next years release of Tom Yum Goong because that is the only way to tell Prachya Pinkaew and directors following him to cease this heavy-handed childish shit.
SNAPRULE #4: Never have your cake and eat it, too.
A clichΓ©, which is misunderstood and consequently misused by almost everyone (probably, you included). It’s only correct interpretation: don’t be redundant. Either of the sentences: ‘I’ll have some cake’ or ‘I’ll eat some cake’ will suffice; never, ‘I’ll have some cake to eat.’
Directors should treat their audience as extremely intelligent. Capable of interpreting and understanding vague hints and subtle expressions, audiences don’t need pieces of film exposition blatantly thrown in their face and they never need anything shown to them more than once.
Not to besmirch the acting of Liam Neeson and Laura Linney, but Bill Condon directed Kinsey with no regard for his audience’s intelligence. Repetitiously telling the audience the same, shallow, information about the main character—he’s a nerdy, once sexually repressed, stereotypical man of the 1940’s—with no real substance exposed and almost nothing revealed of his groundbreaking sexual research. This terrible director treated Alfred Kinsey in much the same way, as the prudish, puritanical, snobs of the 40’s and 50’s. Bill Condon is releasing Dreamgirls next year. Avoid it: Spread the word.
Illicit Has Three Eyes
Honest misunderstandings are often grounds for future sexual intercourse -- Snapperhead misquoting H. D. Thoreau
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
film reviews (late winter 05)
Napoleon Dynamite (2004) directed by Jared Hess (Peluca, 2003); starring Jon Heder and Efren Ramirez: Snaprating=WFD, CHARACTER-theme. Fans of Bad Santa will be less ashamed of laughing but may not understand why this deadpan movie makes them giggle so much.
The Jacket (2005) directed by John Maybury (Love Is the Devil: Study for a Portrait of Francis Bacon, 1998); starring Adrien Brody and Keira Knightley: Snaprating=Cheaper, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of Vanilla Sky will enjoy this cryptic-pic and walk away with a theory about what happened when.
Constantine (2005) directed by Francis Lawrence (directorial debut); starring Keanu Reeves and Rachel Weisz: Snaprating=WFD, RE-ORDER-theme (secondary MILIEU theme). Fans of good vs. evil battles will like this movie more than Van Helsing because the supporting characters are outstanding.
The Forgotten (2004) directed by Joseph Ruben (Sleeping with the Enemy, 1991); starring Julianne Moore and Gary Sinise: Snaprating=WFT, PROBLEM-theme. Fans who really loved the two WFT movies: Signs and The Village, will jump off their seat a couple times as long as they overlook the extremely bad editing.
Garden State (2004) directed by Zach Braff (directorial debut); starring Zach Braff and Natalie Portman: Snaprating=WFD, RE-ORDER-theme (minor secondary Character-theme). Fans of quirky ironic depictions of everyday-people acting out an interesting script will like this 'Clerks meets Napoleon Dynamite' film.
Alien Vs. Predator (2004) directed by Paul W.S. Anderson (Event Horizon, 1997); starring Sanaa Lathan and Raoul Bova: Snaprating=WFD, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of all the Alien and Predator films will discover nothing new or unsuspected as this story successfully pokes fun at itself and it's predecessors.
The Grudge (2004) directed by Takashi Shimizu (Ju-on: The Grudge, 2003); starring Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jason Behr: Snaprating=WFC, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of the original shouldn't sully their memories with this Americanized re-make which won't scare a 5-year-old (too much).
Saw (2004) directed by James Wan (Stygian, 2000); starring Leigh Whannell and Danny Glover: Snaprating=Cheaper, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of The Cube will notice strong situation and dialogue similarities, but even with flawed acting and directing the plot will keep you in suspense.
The Yes Men (2003) directed by Dan Ollman (directorial debut); starring Andy Bichlbaum and Mike Bonanno: Snaprating=WFC, RE-ORDER-theme. Documentary fans may not enjoy this unless watching extremely detailed, embarrassing pranks is entertaining.
September Tapes (2004) directed by Christian Johnston (directorial debut); starring George Calil and Wali Razaqi: Snaprating=WFT, MILIEU-theme (weak PROBLEM secondary theme). 'The Blair Witch Project meets The Killing Fields' in Afghanistan with poor directing, no plot, bad special effects and terrible actors.
Armbytrarie
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts come from someone else, their lives are a mimicry, their passions a stupid quote like this one." --snapperhead misquoting Oscar Wilde
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
snapperhead history and a poaching
 | A 'SNAPPERHEAD' search revealed my site name is also the name of bands in New Jersey as well as Southern California, software which allows you to receive 'snapshot views' of IP addresses, and--among other less interesting things--a sentence in a now-defunct blog where the author used my title as a noun, '...all I could say at the time was only a snapperhead could stoop...' (last entry in 2003). That blog included this fantasmagoric pic-poster, which I poached. HISTORY: I bought a black cap from a restaraunt in the early years of the last decade. It had a large red lobster on it. Years later, trying out a managerial tool on my office; playfully with an undertone of but-no-really, I began referring to specific actions as: Snapperhead, Dingleberry, or BMFSA (badmotherfuckin.. 'indoors' and bestmostfinest.. 'outdoors'). The office jumped on the band wagon with both feet. There was a tally board. If you did something snapperheaded you got 'awarded the hat' and displayed it in your office. BMFSA got awarded a very comfortable leather office chair. |
Ten Things I Have Done That You Probably Haven't
This meme came from Eve Tusnet, to Terry Teachout, to Old Hag, to Bluepoppy and now has my addition as the fifth in this thread.
- Shot three under par (a double-eagle) on a par 5.
- Traveled through 36 countries on six of the eight continents. (I aspire to visit Antarctica and South America).
- Performed euthanasia on an unfortunate dog using a kennel, a vacuum cleaner hose, a plastic drop cloth and car exhaust. It took less than two minutes.
- Hand fed stingrays while scuba diving in the Caribbean.
- Attended a show where--among other things--a woman painted with a labially clenched brush. I have it framed.
- Viewed movies in 9 countries. In Australia, a ring around a ceiling light fell and cut the head of the person sitting next to me. We had exchanged seats just before the movie started so she could see.
- Obtained a lithograph of an obscure Slovakian artist, which a Croatian Prime Minister previously gifted to the SACEUR, my boss at the time. His wife hated it and threw it away. Their cook recovered it from the trash and took it home. His wife also hated it and gave it to me.
- Got a paper cut riding on the running board of a Suburban behind (then Secretary) Cheney in the ticker-tape parade up Wall Street's Canyon of Heroes, for returning Gulf War troops.
- Investigated an allegation of American WWII soldiers murdering POWs fifty-one years after the fact.
- Watched a Bald Eagle in the wild.
Sidore Kuroneko
This rendering was inspired by Shouting to hear the echos and Kitten with a Whip! thus, the title of the piece.
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
The Invisible Underpinnings
Over at laughingsky, this tale about a story involving premonition and perceptions outside of our everyday ken, caused me to recall:
I rolled over as quietly as a Brunswick pin machine. There had to be an--as yet unfound--perfect position where my body would fit between the metal bar severing the nerves at the base of my spine and the one causing my scapula to chafe. Then I might feel like I was undergoing ordinary knife-torture-bliss and not at all like being impaled on a pike. This was our, well my, third night on the torture-rack that was my grandmother's foldout couch.
My wife didn't find sleeping here any problem, but Koreans sleep their whole lives on floors with pillows made from wood-shavings. This must be better. Maybe I should get down on the living room floor. My mind began to wander toward sleep.
Catching-up with relatives can be a whole different type of torture. And last night's dinner at Great-Aunt Myra and Great-Uncle Gerry's was proof that I can bite my own tongue for over four hours.
From the opening salvo:
"You sure gotcha one cute little china doll, there Veach. Only Korean. A Korean china Doll. Hah, that's a good one. Here, want a beer?"
"Hush up, you! And don't mind Gerry, honey. I'd say drinking brings out the asshole in him, but he acts the same way sober."
To the closing bell:
"I didn't make any rice. Is that OK?"
"Sure, I don't eat rice with every meal."
"Oh reeeaaly?" Aunt Myra's eybrows rose with her inflection in a that's-a-fucking-lie tone.
My back was no longer complaining when my wife shot up off the fold-a-bed with a gasp and flail. The sun was up. I must have slept. "What? What's wrong?" I said.
She relaxed and lay facing me. "I just had a terrible dream. We were in one of those large skyscraper buildings like we saw? But we were sitting in the center area where there was a kind of atrium with trees and plants and flowers and a large pond with a waterfall. We were kissing. Your sister, Nancy, came up to us and you turned towards her and she stuck a spear into your chest. There was so much blood and you died." Tears were in her eyes and her breathing was becoming shorter.
"It was a nightmare. I'm fine." I smiled. But I needed to get her mind off the memory, so I asked, "You've never met Nancy. Why do you think it was her?"
"Nana showed me pictures of her a couple nights ago. It was her." So we talked for a while longer about my sister and the dream and after a long few minutes we both went back to sleep.
The phone woke us. It was now mid-morning. Nana answered and after a hurried exchange came into the living room where I was returning the bed to it's less-painful form. Nana said, "Gerry's dead. It must have been a heart attack in his sleep. That was Myra, she found him on the floor about seven this morning after she heard a falling noise from his bedroom."
I recalled the dream. The spear through my chest. I commented on the coincidence that Uncle Gerry would have a massive coronary and my wife--who only met him for a few hours the night before--would have a nightmare involving a spear through my chest at about the same moment. We discussed it with Nana and then decided to notify relatives of the pending funeral.
"Hey, Nance. Haven't talked to you in a while."
"What's up bro? Are you visiting Nana still?"
"Yea. Hey, I can't talk too long, it's her bill and all, you know. But I was just..."
"It's weird that you would call today. I just had a dream about you this morning that woke me up. It was fucking strange."
"What?" I looked over at my wife sitting in the dining room talking with Nana.
"It was soo real. You know how those are? You and I were sitting on the grass in the park next to the duck pond. And--this is the strange shit--we were, like, kissing. I mean we were really going at it. Then your wife came up to us and you and her got in an argument about us makin out and she stuck a knife in your chest. It was fuckin waaay freaky. And I woke up all jumping out of my skin and shit."
"Nancy. You are...I need to tell you..." Again, I looked over at my wife. I was certain if this was a 'game on Veach' she would give it away with a look or a smile. No look. No smirk. "Nance. First off, the reason I called is Uncle Gerry died this morning. Of a heart attack."
"No fuckin way. Wow. Now you're gonna tell me it was around 5 a.m. and that my dream was connected to his death, right?"
"Why...was that when you had the dream?"
"Round then. This is a joke right?"
"You don't know the half of it yet."
Nancy lives two time zones West of Nana. You do the math. It gives me brain-hair-chills just to recount it. I certainly don't understand the invisible underpinnings. I do know they're there and that some people see a shadow of the edge in their dreams.
Anger, Angst and a Jalopy
"Where does the violence, sanity, and insanity end and the orange tint begin? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blending enter into the others?" -- Snapperhead misquoting Herman Melville
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005
self portrait, ears intact, no tongue
"I tell you. The more I think, the more I feel certain that there is nothing more truly artistic than to completely despise people." --Snapperhead mis-quoting Vincent van Gogh
Text size(s)
Thanks to Sk8RN I looked at my site using my old browser, Internet Explorer, and discovered almost all my text is so tiny it's unreadable. I created my last two posts in 'Edit HTML' mode on my blog, rather than in Word, because of the amount of hypertext language needed in the tables so my digital renderings would remain on the right and stack properly. This must make it larger than everything written and pasted from Word (for some unknown reason that makes no sense, so must be wrong).
When viewing my site on my normal browser: Mozilla Firefox, there is no problem with any of my text size--in both the side bar and the body.
I certainly don't want to post a notice at the top that sends all other browser users away ("Hey all you people still using a non-user-friendly browser designed to permit pop-ups and pop-unders and now about a decade behind the times: get with the new century.") Because that was me not so very long ago and I know what it is to be too lazy to download Firefox, even when I heard it was free and easy and simple and...no matter, I was familiar with the old way and 'sorry, there has to be a catch' right? Just like you are thinking now.
So. I changed the font in my template and it makes it huge in Firefox (I mean GIGANIMOUS, Great-Grandma without her tri-focals would stammer 'it's too large,' The above title was so large the e(s) wrapped onto another line...yep...While making it still all barely readable in shitty IE.
Until I can fix my template to allow me to see it on my good browser with all the fonts and texts and spacings I like--because this is 98% for me and the remaining 2% is a bonus (constructive critisism, which I like and utilize). Although I gave it a quick swipe and it didn't work, I'll get into it more and I'll fix it so it is readable for all. Soon. Really. Give me a couple days.
Until then, IE browser users can still enjoy my digital renderings (or need to click on the ittybitty words to bring up a prior post, THEN the sidebar and posts are perfect size) or DOWNLOAD Mozilla Firefox now and embrace 2000 only half a decade late.
Any suggestions, from anyone, as to what I need to alter in my style sheet to make words readable in both shittIE and Mozilla are more than welcome.
--Veach
When viewing my site on my normal browser: Mozilla Firefox, there is no problem with any of my text size--in both the side bar and the body.
I certainly don't want to post a notice at the top that sends all other browser users away ("Hey all you people still using a non-user-friendly browser designed to permit pop-ups and pop-unders and now about a decade behind the times: get with the new century.") Because that was me not so very long ago and I know what it is to be too lazy to download Firefox, even when I heard it was free and easy and simple and...no matter, I was familiar with the old way and 'sorry, there has to be a catch' right? Just like you are thinking now.
So. I changed the font in my template and it makes it huge in Firefox (I mean GIGANIMOUS, Great-Grandma without her tri-focals would stammer 'it's too large,' The above title was so large the e(s) wrapped onto another line...yep...While making it still all barely readable in shitty IE.
Until I can fix my template to allow me to see it on my good browser with all the fonts and texts and spacings I like--because this is 98% for me and the remaining 2% is a bonus (constructive critisism, which I like and utilize). Although I gave it a quick swipe and it didn't work, I'll get into it more and I'll fix it so it is readable for all. Soon. Really. Give me a couple days.
Until then, IE browser users can still enjoy my digital renderings (or need to click on the ittybitty words to bring up a prior post, THEN the sidebar and posts are perfect size) or DOWNLOAD Mozilla Firefox now and embrace 2000 only half a decade late.
Any suggestions, from anyone, as to what I need to alter in my style sheet to make words readable in both shittIE and Mozilla are more than welcome.
--Veach
Applaudable and Standing Ovationable
   | In an attempt to dimly provide illumination on a chunky topic where fluffernutters are about all there are to dine on, I have set myself a ponderous task: explain how a web log floating in the hypertext-effluvium becomes ‘applaudable’ and (a bit further from the stain) how one may come to deserve ‘standing ovationable’ status. Furthermore, my glazeyed fucknucklers, I'll attempt to enunciate why those who I applaud in both the sitting and standing position have attained their dubious status. Of many factors taken into consideration instinct-taneously: clean, concise, and engaging writing is of the utmost importance. Microseconds after a new blog strikes my rods and cones I begin making judgments. The topic rarely matters. Who the author is (or pretends to be) is never important. What matters is how unfettered-interesting I find the writing. How engaging are her or his words? As a writer, I'm looking for good reading; it's as simple as that. I find sites at random (next-blog clicking), by trolling hubs and communities--usually focusing on art and writing subtopics, and I also utilize search engines. Leapblogging sites I've already identified as worthy doesn't work so much; I rarely favor my favorites-favorites. I don't blogroll and rarely peruse automatic-entry blogrolls. If a pre-surfer doesn't have time to manually add worthy sites to their template, then none are worthy of reading. Applaudable becomes standing ovationable after several return visits cause me to laugh or cry--no matter, as long as I want to read more--and, then (obviously), I involuntarily stand up and bang my palms together. I either steal or create a button for those I consider standing ovationable because I expect they'll be around awhile, I'll be reading them often, and I want them to visually stand out on my site. Disqualifiers abound. Some of the most egregious reasons for never getting a read let alone a golf-clap: - Publicity slag-braggers who desire being awarded something unimportant by some other oddblog. - Unobjective, unresearched, conspiracy-theoralism. Do propagandizers and proselytizers breathe a different mix of oxygen and nitrogen? Maybe an inordinate amount of humidity and swamp-gas erases all self-analytical ability, resulting in pages of irrational, unreasonable, unentertaining dreck. - Of all of these reasons, succinctly encapsulated by Davecat, I especially despise trapper-keeper blogs which won't let me get away the instant I want to flee (which I usually recognize before their blog even loads because I've been greeted by a Java button: I'b BeEn MizEn U!!, and I fuckin have to click 'OK'.) As of today, I hold these artists and writers in high regard (listed randomly with mine first as example):
I apologize if my subjective descriptions aren't the "public face" expected. Gender, sexual preference, and geographic location--gleaned from reading the sites--was provided to reflect the range of surperb artists I've "discovered" out of the vast stain of mediocrity. That was my intent. However, at least one person feels my 'compartmentalization' was rude and unnecessary and commented that I'm worse than a mass-murderer. Just yesterday I was berating myself, "Self, even Hitler was published...when are you going to at least become as good as him?" And now I learn that even his blog is preferable to mine. ScheiΓe...Dieses kurze dumme Haupthitler empfΓ€ngt eine groΓe Menge GottfluchglΓΌck. |
Percentage Aries / Pisces
Born breach-caesarian on the 30th of March, I was my mother's first child. Although my mother's due-date was the 17th of February, her doctors decided not to schedule surgery until she went into labor. She never did. I never turned and I never even 'settled'. They finally picked 30 March to remove me because their schedule was clear and it wasn't a weekend. So. How does that enter into this quiz?
| You are 40% Aries |
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| You are 60% Pisces |
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fraktura terrenus
digital rendering by veach glines, creative commons license 2005
more layered composite art:
finate
Breakfast
greypopcorn
asshole percentile / weird quotent
I am 40% Asshole/Bitch.
I may think I am an asshole or a bitch, but the truth is I am a good person at heart. Yeah sure, I can have a mean streak in me, but most of the people I meet like me.
Allow Me to Introduce Myself (updated - twice)
In emulation of divinities (in 2005, I offered) the following. Strike-outs and updates were made in the autumn of 2019 and, in this color, at the end of 2022:
- I love mustard but now prefer lemon.
- Second grade at Peabody Center School, Mrs Creane (whom we called Mrs Crayon) whacked both my hands with a ruler after I quietly slid my best friend's chair back when he stood to read, 'see Spot run'. Then he just sat. And Ronnie sat on the floor so hard his glasses bounced off his face.
- I've moved
3942 times so far. Once I left college for good, I'd moved 15 times--Maine to Massachusetts to Indiana, through Ohio back to Indiana for a while and then to Wisconsin. - Six years (to the day) after our first date, I married my high school sweetheart. Although we attended college in different states, we kept in touch. I was finishing my last year of college and agreed getting married would be relatively painless and invisible. A very naive 22 year old I was.
- Orange has been my favorite color since the summer of 1973. A club member entered the pro shop where I worked wearing a pumpkin colored leisure suit with white stitches. I almost blew Fanta out of my nose when I saw him. A few members teased him about the visual assault and he tossed their ridicule aside with an offhand, 'It's my favorite color'. I admired his blind devotion.
- Six weeks after walking down the aisle in my high school sweetheart's family church she informed me she was with child. 'Accidentally pregnant,' was how she actually referred to it.
- I was in the Army for 20 years.
- My first car was a metallic-flake, shit-brown, 68 VW beetle with a clutchless stick. I purchased it my Freshman year at Purdue, from my Nana after Papa died. I drove it over 60K miles in five years--and it never needed any serious work. The transmission went out two months after I sold it.
- Sixteen weeks after donning my first wedding ring my wardrobe became camo, as I was now attending Infantry Basic at Fort Benning, GA, as a Private First Class college dropout.
- Since retiring from the Army, I try to wear something orange every day (even if it's just a t-shirt or a stripe in my sock pattern). I don't own an orange suit, leisure or otherwise.
- The best 24 hours of my life was in the summer of 1998. A day alone in the Adirondack Mountains: I worked on a painting, ran a couple miles, ate a fire-grilled steak, bathed in a spring, slept outdoors, meditated, read, and relaxed; it was a fantastically refreshing experience.
- My sister sued my mother and our half-sister over the estate of my adoptive stepfather. For three years lawyers and courts took the estate's money and then my sister won.
I have not exchanged a word with her since she started the legal action. It will be nine years this summer.I exchanged emails with her this year; we agreed to not re-connect. Like most of the women in my family, she is a narcissist. - After four calendar years, I simultaneously divorced my high school sweetheart and switched from being an Infantry soldier to being a MP Sergeant.
- I only actually lived with my first wife for eighteen months. We both changed, but I changed drastically (The military and South Korea will do that to an immature man).
- I religiously went to the old Oriental Theater in Milwaukee for years when it was still one huge theater. Sometimes I caught ten films in a week. I almost always went alone. I still am very comfortable going to films alone.
- At fifteen, I started to shave. Only about once a week, mostly my upper lip.
- I never knew my natural father. His name was Leverett. My mother called him 'Lev'. He was a submarine crew-member during their brief marriage. He died in an automobile accident in New Hampshire.
- At thirty, I noticed my hairline was receding because there was a lone hair stranded in what was now--obviously--the top edge of my forehead.
- I have
no wife, some acquaintances, a few friends, and a wonderfulparamourwife whom I love and am loved by. - At forty-five, I noticed my eyesight worsening. When beginning to read I first adjust the book to where my eyes will focus on the page. I wonder what interesting age marker sixty will bring? At 59 I diagnosed insulin resistance and a-fib in myself. At 60 I fixed those and lost 50lbs doing it. I wonder what 70 will bring?
- Between the ages of 13 and 23, I worked as an elementary school janitor, pro-shop employee, veterinarian’s assistant, retail store clerk, state park laborer, marina attendant, night-shift factory worker, restaurant manager and metal shop bench-press operator (most were summer jobs; the last was the only job to lay me off).
- My mother is an extremely energetic woman who doesn't sit or stop doing something with her hands from the time she gets up--before the sun--until the time her head hits the pillow. I can only hope I have her drive in twenty years. She is a vulnerable (covert) narcissist - we are estranged.
- I never want to be a father or stepfather again. I don't get any pleasure relating to any child. Never have.
I have no patience for child or juvenile misbehavior. I no longer experience impatience for anyone (and, now, welcome inquisitive tantrums and coping mechanisms of all others who want to learn.) - I have 159 semester hours of college; two years at Purdue, one semester at Ball State, and two and a half years at UW-Milwaukee. I never finished my Bachelors of Fine Arts.
- My mother raised me using a particularly distorted rulebook: never allowed to ride a motorcycle or mini-bike, ever--but permitted to own a go-cart (with a 7hp motor that I borrowed from a tiller, I could achieve 25mph around my neighborhood streets--and did); never allowed to shoot a gun of any kind, ever--but permitted to own bow and arrows (with steel-tipped arrows I could have caused much more injury than an air gun--although I didn't).
- I'm an Eagle Scout. I was a boy scout from the age of 11 to 16. My Community Project, which everyone had to accomplish to be awarded the top rank, was to organize and run a door-to-door campaign to purchase new Christmas ornaments for my hometown (my efforts earned over $1,500 in 1974 dollars).
- I lost my virginity to my high-school sweetheart when I was 17. She got accidentally pregnant for the first time when we were both at college. I paid for the abortion. That was the first of three abortions I've funded.
- I witnessed my first son's birth. He was grape-purple when he came out. I named him after the author who wrote Dracula.
- If I miss the coming attractions in the theater, I feel I've lost something important.
- My second son was born while I was assisting to protect the southern border of the Korean DMZ. I named him after the author of the James Bond stories. I have almost no memories of him.
- Peppers of any kind: bell, chili, or jalapeno, burn me forever. And I can't just pick them off...the taste is certain to still be there. There is no such thing as 'mild' on my tongue. If I was a super-taster, my taste-buds have aged away; I, now, can eat any and all sweet peppers and some hot peppers.
- My high school sweetheart married a man who adopted my sons and formally requested I never interact with them in order for them to not get "confused and torn between two fathers". I foolishly consented. It was how I was raised, I rationalized.
Consequently, I've not seen my sons since they were four and two.I met both Bram and Ian (as well as one of my grandchildren), ate dinner with them, and learned a little about each other. It was pleasantly mind blowing. - Gus is a red-tip Siamese for whom I serve. He will turn seven years old this year; a middle aged cat living with a middle aged man. We are both very vocal and opinionated. Gus died in 2007 of complications from insulin resistance. I now serve Cecil O. Zonkey he turns 15 in 2023.
- Vanilla is the only flavor I'll eat. Yes, you can mix in some things like cookie dough or jimmies or whatnot. But the only chocolate I'll eat is cake (and it needs to have a whole bunch of vanilla frosting on it because cake is just a necessary medium to permit frosting consumption).
- I don't like a passive woman. Someone who is assertive and willing to make her desires clearly known is my type of lover. I can be romantic, but when I don't get the message sent by mental telepathy, don't take it out on me. My mental telepathy de-coder machine is after-market and obsolete.
- My third divorce caused me to lose most of my possessions, all my credit, and go bankrupt. I don't think I'll ever want to marry ever again. But, this is a current opinion, which could be altered as my resolve ages. It did - to an assertive woman.
I don't own a car. I do own an expensive bicycle.In 2014 I bought, and now drive, a 2015 smart fortwo.- One of my personal oddities is to never drink out of a straw--not even in the theater. I lost this quirk in the last few years without even realizing it was gone until I read/edited this list. I now will use a straw when practical, but still prefer to smell what I am drinking (therefore, a cup with a lid is still not a preference). And, because of the little shit that gets between my teeth, I haven't liked popcorn since I had braces on my teeth in high-school.
- I don't like city life. My future goal (ideal) is to live in a thick forest with no neighbors for many acres in every direction.
- If I'm lost I will NEVER stop and ask directions because I am never lost. I'm just looking for familiar landmarks.
- In the Army I lived in: Kentucky; South Korea (twice); Georgia (twice); Alabama; Belgium; New York; Germany (twice) and Kosovo.
- After retiring I've lived in
twothree different cities in Arizona. Prescott was nicer than Payson was nicer than Phoenix. Two different cities in Oregon; Portland was better than Beaverton. And, one city in Vermont - Waterbury. - I enjoy scuba diving. I dove in the Caribbean off Jamaica, the Red Sea off the Egyptian coast and the Great Barrier Reef and Coral Sea northeast of Australia. As well as in Belize.
- Holidays are just another day. I don't buy presents nor expect any. I never purchase Hallmark Cards. I don't expect others to conform to this, but I do remind people when they bring it up: "How was your New Years Eve?" or, "What do you have planned for the 4th of July?" (I really LOVE fireworks, though.)
- I pay my bills electronically. I haven't written a paper check in years.
- I was married to my second wife for five years. Coincidentally, about the same time I divorced her I changed jobs from MP to become a CID Special Agent (detective and bodyguard).
- I retired a Chief Warrant Officer Three (CW3) and currently live on my retirement pension and Social Security Benefits.
- I have never taken any illegal substance, not even pot. I have never had a cigarette in my mouth.
I have no friends who smoke. I do have friends who smoke, I prefer they not do it around me. It's a despicable habit. - I have an eight-inch bar and screws in my left arm from a break in Belgium.
- I have worn a beard occasionally. I had a mustache much of my Army life. I've never worn a goatee after a gay friend once tease-complimented a straight friend's Vandyke by whisper-giggling, "ooh, I bet it would feel just like a pussy." My wife likes when I have a "pirate stache," so I wear it that way at times; I'm no longer concerned whoever may think whatever about my sexuality.
- Both of my feet have been broken. The left one when I was playing racquetball in college and the right when I fell off my front walkway
last yearin 2004. - I distrust doctors and dentists. I declined to have medical attention when I broke my foot; instead, I borrowed an over-the-boot walking cast, which I wore for six weeks. It healed perfectly.
- I kicked caffeine in 2001. Now I drink water almost exclusively. I am now re-addicted to caffeine.
- I love winter. I lived 35 miles from the Canadian border for 3 years and the snow was great. The fall colors were greater. The wet muddy spring was hell. Vermont's springs are only difficult if you attempt to navigate a class IV road after-thaw; which I don't do.
- When I drink alcohol I either drink German hefeweissen beer, a creamy drink with Irish Cream (like a mudslide) or coconut rum. I am now not a drinker of alcohol (rare exception: hard cider) because I eat mostly keto meals (no sugar). Now I Keto about 50% of the time, but still rarely drink alcohol except for special occasions.
- When I receive a strong orgasm I giggle.
- Oddly, the majority of the women I've been intimate with share the same middle name (or a close equivalent) or it was actually their first name.
- I enjoy listening to trance music when I am creating (painting, drawing, writing, or working on the computer). GOA Trance is especially helpful in my concentration.
- I don't enjoy most adult (pr0n) movies because of the fakeness. I do like watching the star 'Chloe' because I enjoy watching her climax.
I own a hot tub and use it frequently. Sold in 2010.- I love tent camping in the wilderness.
- I detest lies. I never lie about anything to people I love and trust. I lied daily when I was a detective--the primary reason I turned my back on that career as soon as possible.
- Gus went and now Cecil goes on hikes with me in the woods. For miles he will either follow me or race ahead on our path. The only time he quits is when the sun is beating and there is no shade, then he will refuse to continue and I have to carry him (I have a backpack especially made to carry a cat comfortably).
- As a CID Agent for over a dozen years, I worked every type of case imaginable. A handful of murder and robbery cases, a larger number of suicides and rapes, and a still larger number of theft and assault cases. I hated baby deaths and child abuses the most.
- The best present my parents ever gave me were braces on my teeth. I hated the uncomfortable years in high school when I wore them with the headgear and everything. But, that was then and my smile is now.
- For three years I worked protective services (bodyguard). I guarded the NATO Commander in Belgium as well as when he and his spouse traveled. The majority of my time was spent "advancing" locations to protect my principal from embarrassment. I felt like I was babysitting a couple of mentally challenged 54 year olds.
- I once got a man to admit to stealing a car I didn't even know was stolen, while questioning him about a car I knew he stole. He kept losing track of his time-line. When I asked him to repeat himself, he again lost track. I finally said, "We keep going over and over this, and you keep getting lost, there must have been another car." He replied, "No. I'm not talking about the red Blazer, I'm just talking about the black Caddy." Then he got an oops-look on his face. "Red Blazer?" I said. "aah-shit," He sighed.
- Whenever I use my hands for manual labor I always injure them (even just stretching canvas). I get cuts, scrapes, blisters, splinters and pinches, even with gloves.
- I was a sick baby. Because I was her first, my mother didn't know enough about childcare to give me solid food. At my one year checkup the doctor had to inform her that I should be getting more than just a bottle. I attended very little of first and second grade because of mumps, croup, and other childhood diseases (combined with a childhood allergy to most antibiotics).
- I'm addicted to decongestant nasal spray. I've had to spray my nose at least once a night, every night (with a rare night or three off) for more than
twenty-fiveforty years. - The best car I ever owned was a sky blue, 1964 Chevy Biscayne, 4-door sedan with a straight six. I bought it in 1996 for $3K and sold it in 2002 for $2K after putting 25K miles on it. It ran wonderfully. It could never have survived Arizona unless I put an aftermarket A/C in it. No one should live there without air-conditioning.
- I love to read. I can sit in the sun and read all day long.
- I like jazz. My favorite restaurant in the whole world (and I've covered a good chunk of it) is Dante's Down the Hatch in Atlanta. It's a fondue restaurant with live jazz. My favorite restaurant in Phoenix was called Zest. My favorite Portland, OR restaurant was La Cena. My favorite Vermont restaurant is Michael's on the Hill.
- I'm not lazy all the time, but I can sure procrastinate with the best putter-offer's there are. I've adopted/learned a Stoic outlook and no longer consider my actions negative.
- Cave exploring is something I will go out of my way to do. Many years ago I participated in a spelunking group. I have been in dozens of caves from Australia, Austria, Korea, New York, Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri, Indiana, Arizona and Utah.
- I golf. Not well. Not often. But I still enjoy the walk, the smells, and the feel of the sweet-spot coming in contact with the ball. I also enjoy disc golf.
- I have only one filling in my mouth from when I was twelve. I have always maintained good dental hygiene without seeing a dentist and without flossing. Ever. Brushing twice a day without fail has done the trick so far. And still - so far. And still, also, I slowed my receding gums with Co-e Q10.
- Until 2004, I was the best driver I knew. I had driven hundreds of thousands of miles in many dozens of countries on both sides of the roads, with never a fender bender. All that ended when my paramour's SUV flipped while I was driving.
- I try to maintain an open ear to my intuition. It has always correctly steered me when I listen. And when I don't, I regret it later.
- I have a collection of over
150200 spheres. Most are mineral or rock, a few are glass, wood, metal or plastic; they all are about 1.75" in diameter (give or take a quarter inch). Like a snapshot, I can recall the location I obtained each (and if received as a gift, who gave it to me and why). - I hate the texture and taste of every bean except French-style string beans (and then only if served in melted cheese whiz). I only like peas if they are the little, baby, sweet peas. I don't like ANY melon.
- I love breakfast more than any other meal. I can eat breakfast any time of the day.
- I get uncomfortable in crowds unless I can get my back to a wall. Even then, if the crowd is packed-close I'm uncomfortable.
- The best concert I ever attended was outside of Rochester, New York: The Alan Parsons Project (with Eric Woolfson) warmed up for Yes (with Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman).
- Calzones over pizzas, English muffins over toast,
sausage over bacon, butter over margarine and no fast food, but if I do eat McFood I always take the bottoms off two regular cheeseburgers and eat them doubled; that way I get double the condiments. I haven't eaten fast food (except when driving cross-country and its the only thing to eat at the rest stop) for five years. - I can be quite malleable for my significant other. I've bent from Bingo to Casinos to Karaoke.
- Although I've had many cats come and go, I've only had one dog--Cody, who got run over by a school bus in front of my ex-stepdaughter. I was sorry to lose him...but it was a very loud, very big, very yellow bus, which was driving down a bright mid-day street. He wasn't chasing it, just too stupid to get out of its path.
- Because of my prior responsibilities as a CID Agent, there are a few people who won't be eligible for parole from federal prison until I begin collecting social security.
- By accident, I once said "love you" to a prosecuting attorney as I hung up with her. The mistake was all mine. I lost focus on what she was blathering on about. Her voice was so much like my mother's that when the end of the call finally arrived, my mind somehow forgot I was talking to a senior Army officer and should say, "yes ma'am. Have a good day, ma'am. Out here." Instead I just said, "luv ya" and hung up.
- For three years I owned, and drove regularly, a Hondamatic 350cc motorcycle. More a big mini-bike than an actual motorcycle, it got all mom's 'you can't ride' shit out of my system.
- I'm apolitical. I think people should vote for the candidate who will provide the best entertainment. Since it rarely matters which shade of tapioca you pick, select the one that will make you laugh. It's why I voted for Perot many years ago. I am now a progressive-liberal; it clearly matters now.
- I love to meditate. I get highly energized when I finish a good session. In 2022 I achieved my first extended experience of self awareness, which facilitated a shift in consciousness. This is something I have re-experienced a handful of times. Concurrently (unknown if related) I began regularly floating in a sensory deprivation tank for several hours at a time.
- About twice a month I have a lucid dream. I attempt to have them more often, and sometimes am successful, but I only seem to be able to average one every two weeks. Less than four times a year over the last few years.
- Gambling is not in my tool kit. I always lose at games of chance.
- I've found money on several occasions. I once found a 20 dollar Canadian bill at a desolate campsite near a huge, deep, cold lake where a herd of large rabbits vandalized our food when we were out in the canoe. The most I ever found was a crumpled US 50 dollar bill on the floor of a movie theater in Georgia.
- Strongly against organized religion, I've witnessed first-hand what religion accomplishes. I lived in Kosovo for seven months. I traveled in both Croatia and Bosnia. Historically, more people kill and die because of who their god is, than any other reason. The fastest way to get me to stop listening to what you have to say is to start promoting church attendance or proselytizing.
- I'm a VERY light sleeper. I use a noise machine near my bed (waves, rain, etc) and I still wake up when someone makes a noise in the house, yard or neighborhood. Magnesium and Potassium before bed have made this less true. CBD, Turmeric (and Vitamin D every morning) have made it even less true.
- My half-sister is someone I love dearly but can't seem to connect with very well. We seem to always try to help each other but don't always succeed. I suspect her father and my father were as opposite as fire and water, so half our genetic make-up is working against our better intentions. Actually, she self-identified as, also, a covert narcissist (no empathy, no remorse) - she has unfortunately chosen estrangement over discussion of her disorder.
- I allow TeVo to screen shows--never watch commercials. I allow voicemail to screen my calls--never answer the phone. I now have no Cable TV - internet only.
- I am learning to become a published writer. I will attain this current goal. I have learned how to accept that I do not - currently - have the talent to write a book.
stup-funny
This is the stupidist funny quiz. Ever. Hands down. No contest. (I had to scramp the code to make it scramped of course):
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