s n a p p e r h e a d

Quill Cog Native

"We are not a blanket: one piece of unbroken cloth of the same color and texture; we are more like a quillt: many patches, many colors, all woven and held together by a common orange thread." - Snapperhead misquoting Jesse Jackson

digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005

Life Meme - from aibee's tag

What were three of the stupidest things you've done?

Married in 1982, divorced in 1985.
Married in 1986, divorced in 1991.
Married in 1992, divorced in 2002.

I’ll let that stand alone in all it blazing stupidity.

Who has the most influence in your life?

I do.

My fox-point Siamese and my paramour exert the only external influences, all of which I love (except for the incessant yowling).

Who would you pick up for 'Dinner For Six' with your time machine?

Jack Ruby (ran a strip-club in Dallas, died in prison of syphilis, shot Oswald, what stories he could tell!)
Adolph Hitler (guarantees one interesting conversation: his explanation as to why he never eats meat).
P.K. Dick (I would need someone much more crazy-intelligent than me to ask the others bizarre questions and then argue with their answers). I suspect Phillip would refuse to get into the time machine (paranoia was his forte). If so, I’d find H.D. Thoreau after he spent 22 months living in the woods.
Eleanor Roosevelt (I bet she could — and, with a little coaxing and after-dinner drinks, will — kick Adolph’s ass in a bare-knuckle fight).
Vincent Van Gogh before he removed his ear. (He and Adolph can swap suicide stories; besides that, he and I were both born on the same day…only 106 years apart).

If granted three non-supernatural wishes, what would they be?

My ex-wife would die peacefully, in her sleep. Tonight.
My paramour would get promoted. Next week.
My sister would find someone with the je ne sais qua that makes her blissful. Soon.

Name two things you regret your city not having and two things people should avoid.

Phoenix, Arizona would be better if it had:

A better art-house theater catering to a quick turnover of crunching-the-top, fringe, indie, and foreign films.
White Castle or Krystal Burgers.

Avoid:

Going outside in June, July, and August unless wearing SPF 189 while dashing between an air conditioned space and a swimming pool or vice versa.
Staying indoors the other nine months of the year.

Name an event that changed your life.

I joined the Boy Scouts. I learned to love and respect nature, camp, hike and explore the outdoors before I became an Eagle Scout. All of which were gateway experiences for the US Army, where I learned to protect, serve, defend and explore a big chunk of the world before I retired.

Tag five people.

I tagged my dinner guests. They accepted my tag, but apologize for not posting. Most were more amazed about my description of blogs and the web of internets than they were of the time machine.

Of course, if you read this meme and want to do it...consider yourself tagged.

film reviews (early summer 2005) and Keeper Alert (Hustle & Flow)

Mr and Mrs Smith (2005) directed by Doug Liman (The Bourne Identity, 2002); starring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie: Snaprating=Cheaper, PROBLEM theme. Although the Smith's fight can be compared to the fight in War of the Roses, the steady humor and over-the-top shoot-n-blow-em-up's, make this more 'Grosse Point Blank meets Léon, The Professional' with a nod to Butch and Sundance.
Batman Begins (2005) directed by Christopher Nolan (Memento, 2000); starring Christian Bale and Katie Holmes: Snaprating=Keeper , CHARACTER theme (secondary theme elements: Problem and Milieu). This is, hands-down, the best superhero-film to date. This saga incorporates over-the-top action sequences, vehicle chases, fight scenes, and witty rejoinders (with far less CGI) as if Van Helsing, Die Hard and Indiana Jones were morphed with the first Batman.
Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005) directed by George Lucas (Star Wars, 1977); starring Ewan McGregor and Natalie Portman: Star-Wars-fan Snaprating=Cheaper, all-others Snaprating=WFC, PROBLEM theme. The script was cribbed from a videogame sound-byte tech (no sentences over six words) and most scenes are CGI hand-me-downs from one of it's older, wiser, siblings or are attempts at humorous nods to films like The Fifth Element and Frankenstein.
War of the Worlds (2005) directed by Steven Spielberg (Minority Report, 2002); starring Tom Cruise and Dakota Fanning: Snaprating=WFD, PROBLEM theme. Fans of Independence Day and The Day After Tomorrow may enjoy this dark, awfully edited, CGI-dominant, retread.
La Marche de l'empereur (March of the Penguins) (2005) Luc Jacquet's directorial debut; starring thousands of emperor penguins: Snaprating=WFD, MILIEU theme. Old fans of the 'Wonderful World of Disney' and younger fans of the documentary Winged Migration will enjoy this tale of Antarctic-nature's hardships and triumphs.
Hustle & Flow (2005) directed by Craig Brewer (The Poor and Hungry, 2000); starring Terrence Howard and Taryn Manning: Snaprating=Keeper, CHARACTER theme. Comparison to 8 mile is easy and simply wrong because this film has the warmth of a great script, wonderful directing (at one point, a woman's song made me tear) and superb acting, which are missing from Slim's hollow autobiography.

Papa's Auto Opinion

Recently a friend's dichotomy regarding her car purchase stirred thoughts from mental-compost-heap depths to my mind's surface, my keyboard, my screen — now it's on your screen ... in your mind. This electronic artifice of passing along thoughts, replaces the decades-old verbal guidance my grandfather gave me. Papa's wisdom is as vital today as it was when I was first-car shopping (only the dollar amounts are somewhat more than quadrupled).

"Kiddo, there are four things everyone must keep in mind when owning and operating an automobile." He used longer words rather than some of their available shorter equivalents and his voice carried decades of unfiltered Lucky Strikes in it's timbre.

"Most important is maintenance and operating costs, which includes gasoline, oil, replacement rubber and repairs when the goddamn thing breaks down." He said the word goddamn without emphasis. Just another descriptor. As if he was really saying, 'when the rusty-metal thing breaks down'.

"And the insurance premiums, which for someone your age is gonna be a kick-in-the-nuts unless you can convince your parents to include you on their policy."

He never called either of them by name, leastways never that I recall. Only pronouns seemed to exist in his dialogue. He even called his own wife the same thing everyone called her, Nana. I never noticed it until thinking about him after he died. When I asked her about it, Nana said, "Of course he called people by their names. You're mistaken. You were young, Sonny." Yeah. Sonny. The pronoun used by both of them for Uncle Milt, their son. But I'm the mistaken one.

"And then, of course, there are the annual registration and license plate costs. And in this state there is an excise tax, as well as a fee for getting an inspection sticker." He raised his voice a little at this point. He didn't seem to be at all pleased with government-directed costs.

"The very last thing to consider is the payment price. When I say price, do not get confused and think I mean the amount listed on the sticker unless you are paying cash on the barrelhead — and even I'm not walking around with seven grand in my pocket. Price means: the amortization of the interest and the principal amount you borrow, all wrapped together into a monthly payment. All the money you pay the bank, over the years you pay, is the price tag on your automobile. The ONLY price tag."

When I asked for his advice in selecting an affordable car, he responded with questions about my income and current expenses, did some calculations and said, "You can afford to spend about two-hundred a month on an automobile, give or take a few dollars."

I immediately forgot almost everything he told me. My mind clicked through current interest rates and how much I could borrow to keep my payments around two hundred. Maybe he suspected what I was thinking, but his laugh-lines didn't show it. Instead, he asked, "How many miles a week do you think you'll drive?" I said, "To and from college a couple weekends a month, to the movies once in a while, in the summer I'd drive to work and around town; maybe a hundred miles a week or so?"

Then he did some murmuring and thinking out loud for a long minute. It sounded like, "...rate at that...per gallon...a year...seventy cents...every three...maybe quarterly..." Then he looked at me and said, "You might be able to afford a $1,300 car as long as it gets over twenty miles to the gallon."

I must have looked crestfallen or even crushed, because he laughed. "You paying any attention to me?" I said, "Yes, Papa." "Well, do the math. 500 miles a month is 6,000 miles a year. If you get 20 miles to the gallon that's 300 gallons of gasoline you need to buy next year. An easy way to predict the rest of the maintenance costs — hoses, windshield wipers, fluids and the like — is to figure 100 dollars for every 1,000 miles. At the current cost of gasoline, your maintenance costs will be around 900 dollars a year. Liability-only insurance, on your parent's policy, should be around 500 a year and taxes and shit should be no more than 150 or so. Now, that's over $1,500 a year on an automobile you have yet to put a price tag on. If I co-sign, you might could get an 18-month loan for about $1,300 at a reasonable interest rate, and that is a $75-a-month payment, which would bring your monthly costs to the two-hundred mark."

I told him I would think about what he said. I went away and did my own calculations. The result looked like this: $4,500 at ten percent interest for five years is $95 a month (I could afford the extra $20, he was being too conservative). I knew I could get a really great car for forty-five hundred dollars.

When I talked to Papa on the phone later, I explained my calculations. He said, "Why don't you borrow your mother's automobile and do a price comparison on automobiles with $4,500 stickers and then on similar cars on the same lot, but which are five years older. See how your newer car fares after five years in the value-department. Don't forget that your tastes in automobiles will probably change over the next five years as well."

The following week, I did what he recommended. I found a sporty-looking Datsun for $4,900, which was only slightly over a year old (and I was sure I could talk them down). Then I was shown several older cars: A seven year old Toyota was marked at 1,900; an eight year old Honda was $2,000; and I found a six year old Ford for 1,750. Papa said on the phone that night, "Seems you have learned that the car you spend almost six thousand dollars to purchase over a five year period will be worth less than two grand once you actually own it. Why don't you see what kind of value you can get purchasing a twenty or even forty-year-old automobile?"

I think my response used catch phrases like 'clunker' and 'gas hog' but it couldn't hurt to humor him. I checked classifieds and drove my stepfather's van to a local farm. The farmer was selling three antiques: a 1953 Oldsmobile tank for $750; a 1961 Corvair for $1,000; and a four-door 1949 Pontiac with one of those external windshield visors and no back seat (he said it was made that way for traveling salesmen to store their wares). He wanted $650 for it because it needed a new paint job and the tires were in bad shape. All three ran perfectly. He didn't seem to be bothered at all by some teenager showing up and asking to drive his cars up and down the county road in front of his place.

"So, those old cars seem to have gained their value back." Papa said after I told him about my test drives. "I doubt if that Corvair cost much more than a thousand when it rolled off the assembly line." I told him I suspected maintenance and gas would cost more, since these cars were older, probably harder to find parts for, and said they would get worse mileage (especially the eight-cylinder Olds).

"Bullshit," he said. "That Corvair will get at least 20 miles to the gallon and I bet it is easier, and cheaper, to fix and find parts for. But don't take my word on it. Call any shop-mechanic and ask him. Tell him what you are considering purchasing and what your concerns are about repairs. Just ask how much he would charge to examine a car before you purchase it, to provide his mechanical opinion of it's condition."

The mechanic said he loved working on old classics. He preferred them. They were the cars on which he learned. Parts were always available and they cost no more than new-car parts. He said, "There's nothing better made than Detroit-steel." And, "all cars need repairs, but newer ones sometimes cost more in labor, because everything is jam-packed together under the hood and I always haveta move major components outta the way just ta do simple stuff, like change spark plugs. If you want my opinion, buy a older car."
Papa shared this wisdom with all his "grandkiddo's." Although I don't think his granddaughters listened (or his guidance was drowned out by all the fear-based auto-industry commercials). Now my sisters and nieces drive always new, trade-before-it-needs-tires, money-sinkholes, with the best fear-induced 'extended warranty' they can feel comfortable paying for. Papa's grandsons did listen. If there is one clear demarcation between the sexes in my extended family it's seen in our vehicles.

$35K, new. Insurance is not too bad. Mostly garaged except winters and whenever she needs to tow her horse trailer (because it has a ten-cylinder engine which makes a fill-up cost two arms and one leg). She only repairs it at the dealer she bought it from, so maintenance costs are not equitable to any other sane person I know. She combats her fears by driving something that one needs a gangway to embark into and debark from. WORTH LESS THAN $18K IN TRADE (which will happen soon).

$5K, when it was 37 years old. Maintenance negligible, fancy improvements and paint cost more than anything. He drives it every day. It's orange and that almost makes up for no air conditioner. Rarely needed in the Midwest, he says. WORTH OVER $8K TODAY.

$8,500, when it was fifty years old. Almost no engine maintenance (but it came with a new engine and new interior). An extra car which is driven weekends, when it's raining, or when his motorcycle is in the shop (which seems to be more than just once in a while). It is great to drive and has an after-market air conditioner. He has already put 70K miles on it. WORTH ABOUT $12K TODAY.

About 20K new. Insurance is phenomenal (because she drives as if she's the only person on the road, fast). Maintenance is acceptable if you disregard the cost of the accident repairs. WORTH ABOUT 11K TODAY (More, if the next owner doesn't check accident history).

$3K, when it was 31 years old. Almost no maintenance costs. Liability insurance less than two hundred dollars a year. Drove it for six years and over 30K miles and sold it for the same price I bought it. I don't presently own a car.

65K or more, new. This is her toy. She doesn't know how much anything costs because she doesn't 'do the bills'. It gets picked up by 'the garage' for all routine maintenance, and nothing is ever wrong with it unless there is a light or a noise. Nonetheless, IT IS WORTH ABOUT 50K TODAY (and it will be traded next year).

Minimum blogger standards revisited

I wrote a post in May explaining my winnowing three blogs from the applaudable ranks. Others, who will also be missed, now join them. Writing less than twice a month was the issue in my May post; now here are a few other reasons to lose my applause.

Uninteresting writing: Some bloggers become enmeshed in describing daily details or environment up to—and beyond—the point where their writing is as interesting as watching my Hayward AquaPilot suck dead bugs (which is actually interesting for about 23.57 seconds).

Self-promotion: Overly narcissistic blogs have a friends and family niche; unless I'm related to the ugly-in-every-picture I prefer not to see your digital storeroom. Along the same artery, those who seem to have a need to throw their shoulder out of joint with self-aggrandizement: less is more, even when it comes to masturbatory-back-patting.

Jerry's kids: Some blog-reads are very much a romp in Springerland. Although I'm oddly interested when I stumble across the show and may even watch for a few minutes (mesmerized by toothless, mouth-breathers) I don't program the show on TeVo.

By request: Asking to be removed from applaudable status to avoid being listed here if one's writing (or my opinion of it) flagged in the future, seemed—at first glance—abnegation bordering on fatalism. But I suspect it's far more confusing and falls somewhere between 'shouldn't pander approval' and 'control-curtail stressors'. So, although I still applaud their writing, I bow to their wishes.

To these bloggers, I wave a hypertextural goodbye (even though some may have been gone long, long, ago)...

the uglier house
sepia tone dreams
fluffmuppet takes on nyc
written inc.
spelunk in the trunk
unfounded shamanic shifting & powerful foolish wondering [added 11 Jul]
rezzee's blog [added 11 Jul]

After slip-skipping thru the atmo-blog, I complied an informal census, which indicates all blogs fit into these cubbies:

20% - written in a language I could not read (unfortunately)
18% - focused on political or religious subject matter (with proselytizeable foaming and rants)
14% - advertisement or word-cache for another site
12% - yet to be determined, as the blog was too new
11% - caught my attention and held it (and were appended to my clap-pending list)
9% - fan site (sports, pr0n, celebs)
7% - juvenile (creative over-attempts)
5% - digital album niche (friends and family oriented)
4% - simply dislikable (for various reasons)

vaca-enn-we

digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005

I'll be back for fireworks

I'm actually scuba diving in Mexico's Sea of Cortez, not fishing; unless fishing means 'breathing underwater like a fish'.

In Korea, Butterflying means 'having sex with multiple partners' (like a butterfly flitting from one flower to the next). I heard the word Sharking used in the context of 'obtaining something fraudulently' (like sharks who will steal your hooked catch before you reel it in). Cowing refers to 'frightening someone with threats' (because cows will retreat to hollering and arm waiving).

Maybe I am fishing.

I'll be back not to celebrate the fourth day of next month but to watch the colors in the sky that night.

Until then, check out the blogs listed on my sidebar (applaudable blogs and standing ovational blogs), the sites found by clicking my micro-buttons, as well as my phantastic photos and unarguably, art sites.

Oh, if you read any of my clap-pending blogs, please tell me if they make you clap.

Until next week - enjoy your summer or winter (depending on which shoe fits).

My Tarot Card (how-so-very Sonoran Desert I am - inside as well as out)

You are the Sun card. The light of the Sun reveals all. The Sun is joyful and bright, without fear or reservation. The childish nature of the Sun allows you to play and feel free. Exploration can truly take place in the light of day when nothing is hidden. The Sun's rays fill you with energy so that you may live life to its fullest, milking pleasure out of each day. Such joy and energy can bring wealth and physical pleasure. To shine in the light of day is to have confidence, to soak up its rays is to feel the freedom of a child.

Which Tarot Card Are You?
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Q on Next Generation can do it, right?

          "I'm staunch catholic." He said. "I know that I don't come off as being religious because I cuss and stuff but I never say goddamn. My belief is strong." He raised a beer can toward his bulging lower lip (which made him look like he'd been punched in the face) and spit into it. His spit was the color and consistency of baby shit but it smelled like wintergreen. I wanted to ask him why he used staunch as an adjective, but changed my mind. He probably didn't know why and if he did, I didn't care.

          "Yea? I gotta be honest with ya, Jim. I'd never have guessed. You hide it well."

          "Well, I don't push my faith on others if that's what you mean."

          "No, it isn't. But tell me this: Do you believe the bible is an interesting collection of allegories handed down to guide people, or do you take everything in it literally?"

          "The bible is all true."

          "Everything?"

          "Yep." Another thick brown drool entered the can.

          "We definitely see things differently. Since I believe it's mostly allegory, do you mind if I ask you some specific questions about it?" Jim shrugged. The four Budweisers and his dip of Skoal must be causing a measurable degree of fuckit. "Do you believe that Adam and Eve were the first people on earth and that they had two sons Cain and Able?"

          "Sure."

          "Then, can you explain how Cain and Able had kids?"

          "The bible doesn't say. God could have made a women for Cain to marry. Just because it doesn't say, doesn't mean it didn't happen. It doesn't say how or when he made lots of things."

          "Ok. There's a portion of the Bible that lists all the people who begat, beginning with Adam, and I've read where someone added all those people until they came to some person that they could date with some accuracy, which indicated the earth is four to six thousand years old. Are you familiar with this?" He was nodding half way through my question, so I added the are-you-familiar part of my question just to be polite.

          "It really is around four thousand years old."

          "What about fossilized dinosaur bones?"

          "God put them under the ground."

          "What?"

          "He wants humans to discover these things." Jim used his fingers to make air-quotes when he said the word discover. "He wants us to be able to come up with theories and to become scientists and archeologists and shit. He put all those fossils and diamonds and oil and other energy sources like uranium inside the earth for us to find."

          "So you don't believe that millions of years ago those bones were actually the skeletons of live animals? And that oil and coal is formed by billions of years of heat and pressure exerted on organic material?" My voice was getting higher. I was either closing on him or losing him. I couldn't tell.

          "God put all that stuff in the earth when he made it. Maybe he wanted us to think the earth was billions of years old."

          Losing him; I decided to try a different tactic. "Do you agree that there are tectonic plates that move the continents around? Maybe a half-inch a year or so?"

          "Yea, I guess so." He sounded skeptically unfamiliar so got up and brought us two more beers. I decided I needed more details.

          "Earthquakes are caused by these plates bumping and shifting. Agreed?"

          "Sure."

          "If you back-track all the half-inch movements for hundreds of millions of half-inches. The east coast of South America and the west coast of Africa line up almost perfectly. Which, clearly, indicates the earth is old-old and not only a couple thousand years."

          "Unless God made everything move apart really fast on the day he made the earth."

          With logic like that, why was I even having this conversation? Oh. Because of free beer and because I was unable to converse about hunting, WWF, TV, or Sports. The only other thing to do was engage this wonderfully foolish redneck in some type of verbal poker.

          I took another sip from my can and folded my invisible hand.

          It takes all kinds. If everyone thought like me, I wouldn't have anyone to banter with, bitch at, disagree with, or despise. Boring peaceful banality would rule until I found some way to disagree with myself.

cicatrize it

"If you do a good job for others, you heal yourself at the same time. Although an ugly cicatrized scar may mark your journey, a dose of joy is a spiritual cure. It transcends all barriers." -- snapperhead misquoting Ed Sullivan.