A Week in the Life of Gustavo

"Seems to think that if he fails to write, la migra will find him."--OC Weekly More merriment available at ronmaydon@yahoo.com

domingo, novembro 30, 2003

Why even bother?

I have an ampolla on my uvula--not good at all. Wasn't I supposed to get leukemia by now?
Sad but true from the Rotten.com entry on the ACLU...

16 May 2000 After winning a $328 million wrongful death suit against the murderers of fifth-grader Jeffrey Curley, his parents file suit against NAMBLA for inciting the crime. The ACLU agrees to represent the organization, much to the dismay of almost everyone on Earth.

sábado, novembro 29, 2003

The Running of the Shoppers

If this quote doesn't sum up the Wal-Mart way, then nothing does:

Ellzey said Wal-Mart officials called later Friday to ask about her sister, and the store apologized and offered to put a DVD player on hold for her.

Wal-Mart Stores spokeswoman Karen Burk said she had never heard of a such a melee during a sale.

"We are very disappointed this happened," Burk said. "We want her to come back as a shopper."

No comment!

sexta-feira, novembro 28, 2003

Salvame la Vida...

The rants for the Rag this week:

Monster feature on the LBC's Jenni Rivera.

Shall be Chapter 7 of my expected tome.

Another music story, this time on East LA troubadours Quetzal.

They have a show this Saturday in SanTana. I suggest you go see it--I'll be there, for those of you who have unfinished face-to-face business with me!

CD review of Control Machete's latest CD, Uno, Dos: Bandera:

Check out the following line from the review...

"Remarkably, Uno, Dos: Bandera hearkens back to traditional Mexican ranchera by celebrating life while simultaneously showing there’s little worth extolling, as Control Machete trade off with a slew of guest singers to help them commemorate the false-consciousness euphoria experienced by the working class."

Even I'm sickened by that line--stupid college boy!

Sex abuse in the Orange County Catholic Church and some major Republican Party official.

Sorry--I need to protect my ass from libel so can't print words--just read the damn story before it's pulled!

Food review of Orange County's first Salvadoran restaurant.

Great place, although not Orange County's best guanaco restaurant--that's Pupuseria San Sivar.

And finally, my pick o' the week on Cafe Tacuba. Have to post it in its entirety since the Rag doesn't keep them online longer than a week...


THIS WEEK IN PRICELESS GOUGING

CAFÉ TACUBA


Mexico City mavens Café Tacuba are at a point in their astral career when they can justifiably bypass dirty dives in favor of classy arenas, a move the quartet made during their past three Southland shows by successfully packing the Grove, Hollywood Palladium and Hollywood Bowl. But los tacubos aren’t averse to the occasional small gig just yet, so they’re blessing the county with a Thursday night appearance at JC Fandango that promises to be la naranja’s most crowded/sweaty/ecstatic mass of Latin gals ’n’ gents in years.

Sure, $40 for a show is pinche expensive—thank you for the needless gouging, JC Fandango owner/ruthless capitalist Javier Castellanos!—but it’s slightly less so when you consider that those two Jacksons will get you up close and personal with the greatest band Latin alternative music has ever produced, not to mention the most inventive Hispanic artistic collective since the Rivera/Siqueiros/ Orozco mural troika of 1930s Mexico. Crafters of tunes that bounce like a healthy EKG reading across musical genres, in concert, Café Tacuba’s razors-on-eardrums straightedge numbers segue into synth-heavy banda reinterpretations that give way to acoustic ballads so chirpy they’d make a sparrow puke.

Critics deem the band everything from the Mexican Beatles to the Latino Radiohead, but their fan base happily gives such categories a stud collar to the face, as Café Tacuba is probably the only Latin alternative group that features oily metalheads, froufrou socialites, Chuck-wearing skankers, mohawked yuppies and even gabachos wading within their ever-whirling pit. And please: español no es necesario to enjoy them, so if your year has so far been miserable, just cram into JC Fandango on Thursday and let Café Tacuba’s joyous chords sweep up your trodden soul.

I'll be there too--I'm the Tom Joad of Latin alternative!

quinta-feira, novembro 27, 2003

THE story on the Calvin-of-Calvin & Hobbes-fame pissing on everything.

Now this is great journalism--and a story idea I had years ago. Fuck.
Ustedes no me Conocen...

Opening line to an old version of "Ojo de Vidrio", the corrido best performed by Los Alegres de Teran. Also serves as an apt lead-in to the following:

AN OPEN LETTER TO THOSE TO WHOM THIS OPEN LETTER APPLIES

I am simple. I understand that sometimes I come off as incredibly complicated and too demanding with certain issues, but I really don't. All I ask is to make yourself available for appearances--nothing else! No marriage, no anything, just seeing each other.

Yet none of you seem to understand. Soonafter comes the criticisms--I'm too much of one thing, too little of another, and not macho enough for others. "You treat me like one of your news stories," went a critique that just passed a couple of hours ago. Or, as another recent case put it, I seem to care more about talking than banging.

Excuse me for being interested in you. "Time is on my Side" went the old Rolling Stones song, and as great as instant attraction is, you do have to know the person a bit before committing your gonads to them, no? No. And so I gravitate again towards the hideous Friend Zone, where women completely emasculate you by openly whining about the dearth of good men available. Well, look at the person who you do the whining to, damnit. Look and you might enjoy. Yeah bloody right.

Now with that rant over...

Was lagged on again. Why even bother? Ate a fabulous dinner yesterday at the Wild Artichoke with Pinochet Apologist, who's in town for the Genocide Day holiday. Celebrated said Genocide Day in Montebello, where I ate too much ham and not enough French roll.

Observation of the day...

I rarely drink soda anymore--and never colas. How very strange.

Criticism of the day...

As stated above, two separate people claim I ask too many questions. Well slag off: want me like any other slovenly fool who lusts solely after your body rather than also your mind and heart? Geesh.

THE WIRE

War was illegal after all, according to Richard Perle

Umm, why haven't these comments been leading off every damn newscast and headline in the US of A? Like I need to ask...

Victoria's Secrets sells used thongs

For women who prefer thongs, here's the warning:

Microbiologist Dr. Lori Daane says dangerous bacteria like yeast and ecoli can survive for weeks on lingerie and can be easily transferred. "Given the fact that you can get these organisms on this clothing, especially thong underwear, it's pretty likely you’re going to get some fecal contamination."

Somehow, the derogatory term "butt floss" comes to mind. But when you see a women wearing one...

Klu Klux Klan member shot during initiation ceremony

The most frightening part of the story:

According to Sexton, the youngest participant in the initiation was fourteen years old.

Wacko Canadian politician wants homosexuality criminalized anew

Hoo-boy! Name of the guy is Larry Spencer, Canadian Alliance MP. Here is what he has to say, according to the story...

Spencer said the conspiracy began with a speech by a U.S. gay rights activist in the 1960s whose name he couldn't recall.

"His quote went something like this ... 'We will seduce your sons in the locker rooms, in the gymnasiums, in the hallways, in the playgrounds, and on and on, in this land.'

"It was quite a long quote stating what was going to happen to the young boys of North America."

Spencer said one of the major steps was to encourage followers to enter the ministry of various churches and to infiltrate North America's schools and teaching colleges.

"The activists that organized in those days (encouraged) people of their persuasion to enter into educational fields, and to do this with the feeling of a mission, you know, of going out there as pioneers in a -- quote-- human rights area, and I think they were successful as we've seen."

And:

"At some of those [gay liberation] conventions in those days [1960s] it was discussed what some of those approaches would be, and one of the things that's happened is they've infiltrated the education systems of North America, in particular the education systems that prepare educational people. In other words, teachers."

Wonderful!

Enough for now--time to pick up sister from work.
So who took my watch?!

quarta-feira, novembro 26, 2003

As someone once told me, I have a very lyrical way of telling people to go fuck off. I said nothing.

terça-feira, novembro 25, 2003

Funny passage from the Rotten.com library's entry on Slobodan Milosevic...

In 2001, Slobbo was remaindered to the International War Crimes Tribunal in the Hague, along with various members of the Serbian military and political leadership, where his trial is ongoing. Testimony at the trial hasn't cleared up the question of just how much responsibility Milosevic carries for the atrocities perpetrated during his watch, but it's estimated to be somewhere between "a lot" and "a whole fucking lot."

Not much to report today, except more broken promises. Why even bother with believing anymore?

Oh yes: I expressed to the Norse that I didn't find Kill Bill that violent. He deemed me too jaded--and I sadly concurred.
Have you seen my keys?!
Bizarre death courtesy of Rotten.com history...

Nov 24 1983

Jimmy "the Beard" Ferrozzo is crushed to death after hours in San Francisco's Condor Club. Ferrozzo, the club's assistant manager, was fucking one of the strippers on top of a baby grand piano when one of the pair inadvertently flipped the switch to the motorized winch that lowered the instrument from the ceiling. Only when his legs are trapped between the piano and the ceiling that Ferrozzo manages to shut off the hoist, but he dies of a heart attack. The exotic dancer remains trapped underneath his body until firefighters arrive to free her, several hours later.

Reminds me of the death some five years ago of a women who fell off a hotel balcony. According to the man with her at the time of her fall, they were having sex on the ledge and his--ahem--thrusting proved so vigorous he accidentally knocked her off. No comment on my behalf although I do believe he's in prison today.

segunda-feira, novembro 24, 2003

Those Cats were Fast as Lightning...

Funny email from a friend whom I'll keep anonymous to spare him embarrassment...

I understand that you may have huge problems in your love life. But it is going to undermine your credibility as a journalist if you keep it up. Perhaps you should start a new blog, under a pseudonym or something.

My response...

I will do nothing of the sort. The best writers are those who live their lives publicly--witness Hunter S. Thompson, Hemingway, and the like. Frankly, I could care less what the world reads about me--they still willnae know what's going on.

This friend of mine envisions me as some type of dignified journalist, giving lectures to paying ears and jetting across the US of A. But, my friend, life is a process--I can definitely go for that life right now, but it would quickly tumble since its current foundation and scaffolding is nothing more than quirky asides and the occassional blasphemous insight.

Saw Kill Bill today with myself. Movie was a joke--but a funny one! And definitely wasn't as bloody as squeamish individuals insist.
Last week at this time, the world was my oyster.

Now, I got food poisoning.
Still, no one wishes to dance with me.

sábado, novembro 22, 2003

I'm a Loser (The Beatles song, not the also-excellent Beck song)...

When:

1. You lose $15 in Texas Hold'Em in a matter of 15 minutes
2. Miss out on dessert with someone nice because of said $15 loss
3. Get cancelled on a great road trip with someone even nicer
4. Have UCLA be massacred by USC
5. Leave a dear friend's house to take a couple of people out for dinner, only to discover that the people of honor didn't know about any dinner because they both forgot and the person who was supposed to remind them forget to do such a thing
7. Have a tape with last week's Simpsons episode mysteriously erase
8. Achieve last place in almost every game of Mario Go-Kart
9. Not get invited by your own family to dinner because they assumed you wouldn't attend
10. Get verbally insulted left and right without return the favor.

You truly are a loser.

I am definitely in the dregs right now. Hello, lover--long time no see!

And now, a word from Gustavo

Everyone thinks I have low self-esteem. I don't--I know perfectly well my qualities and deficiencies, and I know how I match up to other people in this world. My problem lies with me knowing that people can never accept me completely. There's always one little thing about me they cannot accept, whether it's my sexual morals, non-travelling status, still-live-at-home-despite-age living situation, straightedge philosophy on alcohol, smoking and drugs, and a bevy of other things.

Thos are all petty things! Can't people see the good in me through the quirky?! Usually, they cannot. And thus, desolation.

On some better news, here's a super-sweet email from My 49ers Cousin #1's girlfriend, Stenographer Extraordinaire...

I never knew how romantic you were, well....are.

"Dancing together solidifies trust, creates new relationships, rejuvenates the injured civic and personal soul. Dancing together is love."

And when you made the comment below, I actually felt my heart ache. Like a gas bubble or something. (But it wasn't that, that doesn't sound too girly.)

"But we never had the chance to dance again. And when she told me two weeks ago that she couldn’t be with me for the moment—maybe forever—I couldn’t help thinking: we didn’t dance enough."

You made a comment that you "just have to learn to be a better person." I already think you a great person. You make mistakes just like the rest of us, yours are just more documented than everyone else's. You're quirks and jerks are what make you, well, YOU.

Okay, I'm gonna stop kissing your butt. That's not my intention, but I just think you're a grand. I don't know if you hear that enough, but I wanted to make sure I got mine in. Have a good day!

P.s. You haven't lost this blog reader.

One of the sweetest people I know. Thank you, Stenographer Extraordinaire--you made me smile.

sexta-feira, novembro 21, 2003

For Everything There is A Season...

Did I say I was going to see some Iberian metal? I meant Argentine!

Ah, Argentina...

Am relistening to Sweetheart of the Rodeo, one of the boldest albums ever recorded, not to mention beautiful. Proto alt-country--I'm hearing this album and want to glide across a wooden floor with the one I adore, both of us a bit scared about the future but trusting that all turns out well.

Alas, that is not happening anytime soon, so I instead offer this track...

YOU'RE STILL ON MY MIND

The jukebox is playing a honky tonk song
One more I keep saying and then I'll go home
What good would it do me, I know what I'll find
An empty bottle of broken hearts and you're still on my mind

The people are laughing and having their fun
While I sit here crying over what you have done
My pockets are empty, my last drink of wine
An empty bottle of broken hearts and your still on my mind

Alone and forsaken, so blue I could die
I just sit here drinking till the bottle runs dry
To try and forget you I turn to the wine
An empty bottle of broken hearts and your still on my mind

This song reminds me why I love country and the connections that span race and culture but persist amongst class. Alcoholism, well-hidden sensitivity--fuck machismo!--and sparse lyrics. And the song itself is a slide guitar/honky tonk joy.

Enough for now--back to work!

PS--don't read too much into the lyric selection--just a damn wonderful song. That it also addresses heartbreak is purely coincidental--OK, maybe not purely. But let's just I sleep well but wake up crestfallen...

quinta-feira, novembro 20, 2003

Nothing like some Iberian death metal to make the soul feel nicer!

And so I'm off. Dispatch to come about ninguem!
E Coisa Nossa...

In talking to My Dearest Friend a couple of nights ago, I came to a startling conclusion--I'm Dr. Gustavo and Mr. Gus.

Dr. Gustavo: shy, sweet, goofy, kind, considerate--maybe too much of each. All-around gentleman.

Mr. Gus: cynical, cold, calculating, manipulative, vindicative, vituperative, judgemental--definitely too much of each. The epitome of a jerk.

(Yes, each font change was done on purpose to convey the proper feeling)

Throughout my life, I sometimes let each intrude upon each other. But ever since I've become a journalist, I've concentrated the darker section of my heart to my journalism side. Thus, you get a writer who's arrogant as fuck, goes after people with a flaming sword at hand and does not rest until someone is embarrassed.

Thankfully, that means that my usual self is just dorky and nice. Unfortunately, I've received criticism in the past (not just from one person but from many) that I'm not very agressive in that matter--timid, even. And then my two-exes ago wanted me to be as wimpy as I am in real life in my writing?

Point of this meander? I please no one with who I am. You're damned if you do and damned if you don't. But it's OK--I can still play center for the Canadian basketball team.
Funny aside from Rotten's entry on Vince Foster...

Five witnesses claimed Foster had a briefcase in his car, which was omitted from the police report. (Four witnesses said they thought "maybe" they thought they saw a briefcase in the car. A fifth said there was definitely a briefcase and also some wine coolers. No one else saw any wine coolers. Where is the outrage over the wine coolers?)
Baby, You can Drive My Car...

Awesome article on the move my Schwarzenegger to repeal SB 60.

Marc Cooper makes the argument that repealing SB 60 would actually be beneficial to illegal immigrants because the issue would be dealt with in a bureacratic manner rather than left to the troglodytes of the electorate. Here's the conclusion:

The most we can hope for now is that Schwarzenegger will not slobber and pander to his hard-line Republican supporters as much as Davis did to his anti-recall allies. Perhaps I’m reaching for straws, but I was heartened that in his inaugural speech, the new governor, in vowing to repeal the measure, referred to it by its bureaucratic moniker of S.B. 60 and refrained from mouthing either of the hot-button phrases “illegal alien” or “illegal immigrant.” When the tempers of the recall cool and a year or so from now the nativist petition gatherers retreat back into their bunkers, let’s hope that Schwarzenegger and the Latino Caucus are wise enough to agree on an acceptable compromise.

In the meantime, all those undocumented who do most of our work for us and who had briefly entertained the illusion that this coming January they could at least come into legal compliance as drivers, need to brace for the certain and immediate repeal of the law. As they continue to drive, licenseless, with one eye peeled for the cops, they can also ponder the long and still growing list of those responsible for their current predicament: Pete Wilson, the GOP caucus, Cruz Bustamante, Rescue California, Arnold, the more reckless among the Latino Caucus, and . . . yes . . . Gray Davis.


I'm proud to say my article arguing for driver's licenses for illegals is still getting me mail, both supportive and dismissive. When I have the chance, I'll post some.

Then there's this article regarding the plummetting consumption of bread in America thanks to the Atkins Diet.

An excerpt:

The growing craze for high protein, low carbohydrate slimming regimes such as the Atkins diet is threatening the market for one of the staple foods of the West - bread.

Consumption of bread plummeted in America in the past year with an estimated 40 per cent of Americans eating less than in 2002. The US bread industry is to hold a crisis "bread summit" tomorrow to discuss measures to curb falling sales. In Britain, the Federation of Bakers launched a promotional campaign last month to counter the Atkins effect. British Bread month was advertised with the slogan "Use your loaf, have another slice."



Diet-obsessed people are idiots. Yes, I'm one to criticize based on my rather-scrawny physique, but most people who try to lose weight do it for solely aesthetic, not legitimate reasons. If someone is obese to the point where it is affecting their health, then I say it's OK from my high horse.

But what of those who are already perfectly fine. The Fabulous G Sisters are always trying to lose weight despite their goddess appearance. I remember Striggy once telling me she needed to lose about 10 pounds--woman is as skinny as me. And you know who constantly carps about being overweight? Women. Male dominance in the world disgusts me--maybe that's why I'm such a milquetoast, as a form of protest and to provide an annoying counter-case.
I've caused enough havoc for one day, so I'll leave everyone with this anecdote from my dancing alone piece, if only to show that there is emotion within a sometimes-beautiful, sometimes-ruthless soul that can devastate almost as much as comfort...

Dancing together solidifies trust, creates new relationships, rejuvenates the injured civic and personal soul. Dancing together is love.

I know. I attended a rock en español concert in Fresno earlier this year with my kind-of girlfriend at the time. We hadn’t spoken in some time and the drive through the flat fields of the Central Valley—the same fields that hosted the dance where Tom Joad and his family found temporary respite from their misery decades ago—had been a little tense. We were listlessly waiting for headliners Café Tacuba to appear onstage, passing the time by grimacing through conversations.

Then it boomed from epic speakers: "Chúntaros Style," a severely loopy song by vallenato/raperos El Gran Silencio that celebrates the type of dancing together that even young, assimilated Mexican Americans nowadays are starting to disparage.

I knew what to do. I asked her if I could have a dance, and she accepted. I put my arm lightly around her waist while holding her other arm high and we danced a powerful polka. Some rockeros slamming in the pit looked toward our gyrating weirdly, then started to laugh at us for dancing in a way they saw as antiquated.

We didn’t care. We didn’t have to rely on the pleasures of sex to get physically close again; instead, we just held ourselves in a way that was at once platonic and romantic. By accepting my offer of a dance, she let me know that I could occupy her personal space and she would not be offended. By asking her to dance, I let her know that I wanted to hold her, to be close to her, in a way that was more permanent than merely shaking my crotch against hers. We danced in the same spot—it was too crowded in the concert hall to move around—for what was 10 minutes but felt like decades, never letting go. Our relationship was renewed; we danced that one night and fell in love again.

But we never had the chance to dance again. And when she told me two weeks ago that she couldn’t be with me for the moment—maybe forever—I couldn’t help thinking: we didn’t dance enough.

quarta-feira, novembro 19, 2003

By the way...

I'm fine. Hurt? A bit--but who cares about me right now? Care about my actions (rather, words) and condemn them for the idiocy they represent.

Too vague for you (and by "you", I mean the other three readers of this blog--about two months ago, I had maybe three regular readers: now I have four, but it'll probably drop back to three!)? Sorry. If you want to know what the bloody 'ell I'm spinning, email me above. Be prepared, though--you'll probably send me the digital equivalent of a smack on the head after I spin you my yarn.

As for me, I'm directing my anger to where it's warranted--venal politicians!
Happiness is a Warm Gun...

Well.

So far, this blog has stirred nothing but well-deserved anger towards me for thoughts I shouldn't have put out in the open. Yes, they were anonymous to protect the name of the people involved--but when the people involved read this infernal blog and you make either direct or backhanded critiques towards them...busted!

I should just pull the trigger on this damn thing--it's rather worthless. But I won't--I just have to learn to be a better person.

And for the record: I'm sorry. I truly am. My problem wasn't with you--it's been with me and accepting that things sometimes just don't work out.

As for the repressed memory? Still applicable--to the ex.

In other news...

I sure know how to endear people to me!
Be Thankful for What You Got...

Fascinating article on the origins of Thanksgiving.

At first, I feared this would be the true-but-cliched canard against imperialism, and to a certain extent it is. But the author goes on to tie Thanksgiving not just to the English but also to the Spaniards and their reconquista of their mother country from the Moors.

I'm not sure I believe the connection, however. By the time the Pilgrims came over, the schism between Catholic Spain and Protestant England was already big. And while the Pilgrims were no friend of either Crown, I doubt that they'd willingly continue an edict set forth by a pope commemorating the defeat of infidels. The latter-day occurrence cited by the author is correct; the Spanish argument is rather stretched out.

Disregarding the genocide, I personally don't like Thanksgiving. Food's terrible--turkey is dry, mashed potatoes are blandly disgusting, sweet potatoes are sickly, and cranberry sauce looks like blood but doesn't have any of the charm.

Thanksgiving: a day where we give thanks that we only have to eat such terrible food but once a year.
WorldNetDaily: Wal-Mart covering up 'I hate you' baby toy?

From the loons at World Net Daily. Here's the money quote:

The toy's box bears the Wal-Mart brand label Kid Connection, with a tiny set of footprints and "Step Ahead" logo. The box also indicates the toy was made in China.

"You know China is not friends with us," Skelton said, speculating about the explanation for what she fears is a subliminal message hidden in the toy. "They're trying to get back at us. What's the best way? Teach kids when they're young to hate. It's scary."

The propensity of people to hate the Other never ceases to disgust me.

Bushie speaks to the Sun.

The Murdoch-owned rag is rather enjoyable, if only for the picture of topless gals. But what an insult this interview is to us hacks across the pond. Then there's this revelation:

Even in the colonies, Bush's Sun interview is bound to create jealousies. His only other one-on-one interviews with print publications this year have been with USA Today, Leaders magazine and Sports Illustrated.

Sure, get fucking Gannett to grill the Prez.

Then there's this amazing article from the Guardian regarding US security requests for Bushie's British voyage. It's so remarkable, read it here!


Home Secretary David Blunkett has refused to grant diplomatic immunity to armed American special agents and snipers travelling to Britain as part of President Bush's entourage this week.
In the case of the accidental shooting of a protester, the Americans in Bush's protection squad will face justice in a British court as would any other visitor, the Home Office has confirmed.

The issue of immunity is one of a series of extraordinary US demands turned down by Ministers and Downing Street during preparations for the Bush visit.

These included the closure of the Tube network, the use of US air force planes and helicopters and the shipping in of battlefield weaponry to use against rioters.

In return, the British authorities agreed numerous concessions, including the creation of a 'sterile zone' around the President with a series of road closures in central London and a security cordon keeping the public away from his cavalcade.

The White House initially demanded the closure of all Tube lines under parts of London to be visited during the trip. But British officials dismissed the idea that a suicide bomber could kill the President by blowing up a Tube train. Ministers are also believed to have dismissed suggestions that a 'sterile zone' around the President should be policed entirely by American special agents and military.

Demands for the US air force to patrol above London with fighter aircraft and Black Hawk helicopters have also been turned down.

The President's protection force will be armed - as Tony Blair's is when he travels abroad - and around 250 secret service agents will fly in with Bush, but operational control will remain with the Metropolitan Police.

The Americans had also wanted to travel with a piece of military hardware called a 'mini-gun', which usually forms part of the mobile armoury in the presidential cavalcade. It is fired from a tank and can kill dozens of people. One manufacturer's description reads: 'Due to the small calibre of the round, the mini-gun can be used practically anywhere. This is especially helpful during peacekeeping deployments.'

Ministers have made clear to Washington that the firepower of the mini-gun will not be available during the state visit to Britain. In return, the Government has agreed to close off much of Whitehall during the visit - the usual practice in Britain is to use police outriders to close roads as the cavalcade passes to cause minimal disruption to traffic.

A Home Office spokeswoman said: 'Negotiations between here and the US have been perfectly amicable. If there have been requests, they have not posed any problems.'

An internal memo sent to Cabinet Office staff and leaked to the press this weekend urged staff to work from home if at possible during the presidential visit. Serious disruption would be caused by 'the President Bush vehicle entourage requesting cleared secured vehicle routes around London and the security cordons creating a sterile zone around him'.

Meanwhile, negotiations are continuing between police and demonstrators about the route of the march. Representatives of the Stop the War Coalition will meet police at Scotland Yard tomorrow to discuss whether protesters will be able to march through Parliament Square and Whitehall. Spokesman Andrew Burgin said he hoped for 'a good old-fashioned British compromise'.

Enough! Now sleep...

terça-feira, novembro 18, 2003

Silly of Me...

Talked to My Dearest Friend after a two-month long hiatus. She's had it rough as of recent, with family medical problems, but she was also in high spirits. I still owe her Felix's, and that will come soon.

And now, a rant...

It is not my fault that I was raised the way I was. Sorry if I came from a poor household that graduated to the lower middle class--that kinda affects your priorities in life, y'know? So the wonderful experience that is travelling must be subsumed by the reality of helping with paying the bills of the house and ensuring that your siblings are on the right track. And not having my own place? Why should I when my presence is needed my house. But, of course, Uds. cannae understand that, being that Uds. come from such a priveleged background--if I remember correctly, none of you have ever worked a real job in your life! Me? Let's see...started around age 11 with my father, spent two summers unloading cargo with a disgusting man who kept wiping his nose and paid me nothing--bastard wouldn't even treat me to lunch. Another summer at an auto shop, then full-time working around my junior year and never stopping, not even for grad school. And Uds.? Sorry, school doesn't count as a job, not when I'm doing it concurrently with a real job, damnit.

So maybe I haven't seen the world. Know what? I don't regret it. And if Uds. can't accept that, well too bloody bad. There's more important things in this world than Portland, y'know?

The above rant was inspired by a recent conversation and repressed memory--God bless the spoiled rich!
Nothing like a nice round of rejections to start the morning! And you know what's the best part? The day is only eight hours old! Bring on the other 16!

SUNDAY

Went to see Plastilina Mosh with Someone. A rather fun show, even if P. Mosh took their bloody time in showing up. My concern for the tardiness wasn't mine but rather for Someone, as she had class at 10 in the morn. Me? Got home, slept at three, woke up at six, and had a swell day.

And that's the last entry on that chapter.
If I were the show-off type, I'd wear this college's sweatshirt.
What did I tell you?
--
Nov 17 1968

NBC preempts the final 1:05 from a very close Jets-Raiders NFL football game with "Heidi". Two touchdowns were scored during this missing time. Sports fans everywhere applaud and understand the network's decision.

Nov 16 1906
Opera star Enrico Caruso is charged with an indecent act committed in the monkey house of New York's Central Park Zoo. He pinched the bottom of a woman described as "pretty and plump", causing outrage amongst New York high society. Caruso claimed a monkey pinched the lady's bottom.
Nice Guys Finish Last...

Ain't that the truth, Yogi?

I can fill Uds. in on this past wondrous, maddening, reading-filled weekend--alas, I need to work. But I reserve the right to throw in a Rotten.com history reference at my liking.

segunda-feira, novembro 17, 2003

For the person who found this infernal blog by asking Google to search with the terms "arellano, gustavo married to...

I'm not married--I'm single, with various chaste dates under my belt. Now why the hell would you like to know? Email me at the top, faca o favor.
I don't want to. I don't want to. But if I want to succeed in this wild world, I have to. Guess what? I don't, and so I don't.

domingo, novembro 16, 2003

The whistling language of the Canary Islands is being taught again in schools.

Good story about a lingustic group I had only read about. After finishing this story, I'm reminded of how damn diverse the New World's "Spaniards" were. A lot of the early Hispanic population of Texas was composed of people from the Canary Islands, fleeing from the imperialistic salivations Castilians had over the Iberian Peninsula. Add people from the Canary Islands to the list of the damned that created the New World, alongside Basques, Catalans, Galicians, moros, marranos, second sons, and who else? Viewed in such a light, the Spanish conquest of the New World almost appears to be the largest refugee settlement movement in history. But then again, the genocide.

sábado, novembro 15, 2003

I must admit I'm rather disappointed by Rotten's take onThe Simpsons. And the Homer quotes they selected aren't the best--here's their choices:

*Operator, give me the number for nine-one-one!
*It's like David and Goliath, only this time David won!
*Hey, just because I don't care doesn't mean I don't understand!
*Marge, it takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.
*Marge, I'm going to miss you so much. And it's not just the sex. *It's also the food preparation.
*In this house, we obey the laws of thermodynamics!
*You don't win friends with salad.
*You can't keep blaming yourself. Just blame yourself once, and move on.
*Trying is the first step towards failure.
*They have the Internet on computers now?
*Okay, brain. You don't like me, and I don't like you, but let's get through this thing and then I can continue killing you with beer.
*Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try.
*Bart, with $10,000, we'd be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things like...love!
*Facts are meaningless. You could use facts to prove anything that's even remotely true!
*Do I know what rhetorical means?

Where's "Steak?" "Ah, the old Vitamin Barn," and "I'll call him Stitchface"?
Ring Around the Corner...

Two New Yorkers down, one more to go! Outside of that, did nothing except watch Marco Antonio Barrera get pummeled by a young Filipino.

There are two unknown fighters I've seen from the start of their career until the end--Barrera and Felix Trinidad. I saw Trinidad when he snapped Yory Boy Campas neck so viciously it was perpendicular to the rest of his body. Barrera I first saw on a KCAL-TV Channel 9 fight about a decade ago--I remember the ring announcer stating that Barrera would probably not box that much longer not because of his talent but because he was a law student. I don't think the world of jurisprudence missed much.
Planta de los Pies...

Was supposed to go out today, but was delayed for tomorrow...which was cancelled due to my out-and-about family. The way things are going, I should be qualified to apply for single-parent benefits.

Diversity is good--and I'll leave it at that.

But now, sleep--a potentially grand weekend awaits.

sexta-feira, novembro 14, 2003

Hmm...I posted something here earlier, but a power outage in my neighborhood must have erased it. Will post it once I remember it.

If you think I reveal too much of my personal life on this site...you're wrong! I reveal nothing except excess--the meaty things are kept intact.

quinta-feira, novembro 13, 2003

Gustavo's Journal of the Subconscious, Canto CIV

Absolutely bizarre one. I rarely have sexual dreams, but this past night I had two. One involved a woman from my past, another involved a woman from my present. Neither was fully consumated, but brother...

Yesterday was spent hacking away. And today will be the same. But tomorrow is another day...

quarta-feira, novembro 12, 2003

I'm not feeling particularly drone-like right now--and let's live it at that.

All work, no play, and little praise makes Gus a resentful boy...

terça-feira, novembro 11, 2003

Those Oldies but Goodies...

Trying to hack out my 3,000 LBC oddyssey, but cannot since it's Veterans Day and the rest of the family does chores and listens to the reprehensible KRTH-FM 101.1. This is the station that'll play "My Girl" at least four times in one day, that has a playlist that cannot be more than 100 songs. This is supposed to be an oldies station, and all you can muster is 100 songs?! Granted, everything recorded in the past is not great by virtue of its age, but the sheer amout of songs out there that KRTH never plays is staggering. For example, they play maybe thirty Beatles songs, nothing from the White Album or Sgt. Pepper's...come on! I could be more articulate in my rage, but I have work right now--and I get to drive up to South Pasadena to interview a band. God bless deadlines!
Profile of the Fellow UCLAer for story in the Register:

Occupation: Lecturer at UCI, research consultant for UCLA, executive director of El Centro Cultural, teacher at the Orange County High school of the Arts.

Family: Father, mother, two brothers

What I value: "Love. It really is about love and creating a strength that is bigger than just two people."
Bush UK Visit 'Exclusion Demands' Spark Protest

Nice to see we're exporting the Patriot Act abroad!

segunda-feira, novembro 10, 2003

Some of this stuff hasn't even been put into the New file. And now, the Cola Wars

1929 Coca-Cola ends its use of Weapons of Mass Addiction, namely the drug cocaine. It never sheds the chemical agents 7X and Merchandise #5, however.

1972 Pepsi infiltrates the Soviet Union.

1975 The Pepsi Challenge commences in Dallas, TX.

1977 Pepsi annexes Pizza Hut.

1978 Pepsi annexes Taco Bell.

1984 Michael Jackson wounded by a pyrotechnic device during a Pepsi propaganda filming.

23 Apr 1985 Coca-Cola withdraws the original formulation and replaces it with New Coke.

11 Jul 1985 In a strategic retreat, Coca-Cola announces plans to bring back Coke Classic.

1986 Pepsi annexes Kentucky Fried Chicken.

1996 Arms deal gone awry: As a gag, Pepsi offers a $23 million Harrier jump jet for 7,000,000 Pepsi points. When a pool of investors coughs up 15 points and a check for $700,008.50, an apprehensive Pepsi stonewalls. The terms of the promotion permitted customers to purchase points at a rate of ten cents each. The matter soon winds up in court.

15 Sep 1997 Coca-Cola's website taken down after cyberattack.

19 Jun 2000 Coca-Cola infiltrates North Korea.

Feb 2002 Qibla Cola launched in England.

May 2002 In a surprise pre-emptive strike against the upcoming Vanilla Coke, Pepsi Blue is unleashed.

May 2002 Operation Barbarrosa: disastrous Vanilla Coke campaign begins.

27 Aug 2002 On his television show The O'Reilly Factor, Bill O'Reilly declares a boycott against Pepsi-Cola.

Nov 2002 Mecca-Cola launched in France. According to the website, the drink exemplifies a "rejection of American politics, imperialism and hegemony and a protest against the Zionist crime financed and supported by America." In an interview, CEO Tawfiq Mathlouthi explains: "We are against American policy. We made it clear from the beginning. And we don't care what they will think, I mean the American administration, we are against them. We don't agree with the foreign policy of the United States. We don't agree with the American imperialism. We say it very, very clearly and in an active way, and anyone who buys a Mecca-Cola bottle is making an act of protest against the American politics and also against the crimes of Zionism."

28 Oct 2003 Lawrence Andrew Rodriguez is arrested in Port Richey, Florida for allegedly knocking a kid unconscious and stealing his Pepsi.
Yes, I'm Lonely/Wanna die...

And what song may that nihilistic lyric be from?

I've pulled 13-hour days in front of the computer before, but today I am exhausted. And it doesn't have anything to do with intellectual burn-out.

I have not spent quality time with anyone outside the Norse in about a week. I need to--and fast.

That said, the 13-hour day was productive. And after this Friday, it's back to the usual three stories per week set-up. Sunday, am supposed to see Plastilina Mosh with Someone, and somewhere along the line I need to reconnect with everyone I couldn't see in the two weeks that my parents were gone. Falemos, gente!
Only the geniuses at Daily Rotten can get away with the followingAbu Nidal biography. Here's the conclusion.

Terrorism is all about fame. After all, you need to establish a rep if you want people to tremble with fear when you announce your name at cocktail parties. Therefore, it's probably the ultimate insult that Abu Nidal last made the news when an Internet hoax confused him with Osama bin Laden.

An email making the rounds of the gullible claimed that Ollie North had been targeted by bin Laden in the 1980s. Essentially, the email took out the name "Abu Nidal" and stuck in the name "Osama bin Laden." The point of this practical joke is unclear, but those stupid assholes who forward you every piece of crap that passes through their inboxes sent it around to enough people that it had to be debunked by the debunkers.

What an indignity! It's bad enough that Nidal's primary claim to fame in his twilight years was being Ollie North's lame excuse. But when you can't even get credit for THAT... Well, it's no wonder he shot himself...

domingo, novembro 09, 2003

I had an entry but I accidentally erased it. Darn.

And for those who say you're going to call but dinnae...a pox on ye!
From the Rotten.com Library entry on virginity, a list of people who stayed virgins their entire lives...

LIFELONG VIRGINS

Joan of Arc
Jorge Louis Borges
Emily and Charlotte Brontë
Lewis Carroll
Jesus Christ
Gary Coleman
René Descartes
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Immanuel Kant
King Louis XVI
Sir Isaac Newton
Florence Nightingale
Virgin Mary (according to Catholics)

No comment on my behalf, both for the list and the question.

sábado, novembro 08, 2003

The long but worth-reading Rotten.com Library entry on Weapons of Mass Destruction ends with the following slam against Bill O'Reilly:

Originally, Bill was convinced that when we liberated Iraq, there would be WMDs aplenty. Back in March 2003, he went so far as to tell the Good Morning America viewers that "if the Americans go in and overthrow Saddam Hussein and it's clean, he has nothing, I will apologize to the nation, and I will not trust the Bush administration again."

Months later, after President Bush declared the end of combat operations in Iraq and still no weapons of mass destruction had been uncovered, O'Reilly started to regret those words. So he gave the White House an ultimatum to come clean about the WMDs "in the next few weeks." But when that deadline was about to expire, Bill offered a new expiration date, granting the President an additional five months. Five weeks later, when it became obvious that the administration had no intention of meeting O'Reilly's decree, Bill extended it another six months. When you add it all up, the drop-dead date has (so far) dragged out one full year. How's that for accommodating?

In effect, Bill keeps hitting the snooze button on his WMD deadline so that he can avoid (or at least postpone) apologizing to the nation and declaring his mistrust for the Bush administration, two things he probably never had any intention of doing under any circumstances.

(My note: the following is a diagram that should read: date/ O'Reilly quote/deadline )

5 Jun 2003 On his television show The O'Reilly Factor, Bill O'Reilly declares: "Reasonable people are faced with two conclusions -- one, that the intelligence was wrong, or, two, that more time is needed to find the weapons. Talking Points just asks one thing from President Bush: an update on the situation in the next few weeks. That's a very reasonable request, and one the President must take seriously if he wants to advance the cause of the USA throughout the world. In the end, if the intelligence was faulty, some people have to be fired. If, God forbid, the intelligence was contrived, and I don't believe that, but if it is proven, then Congressional action must be taken." 1 Jul 2003

11 Jun 2003 On his television show The O'Reilly Factor, Bill O'Reilly declares: "It is possible the President did lie, but most of the credible evidence points to wishful thinking on WMDs, rather than outright deception. By the way, the President must tell us his feelings on the guerrilla action in Iraq and the WMDs, or risk losing popularity... We the people deserve an extensive update from the President before he goes on summer vacation. This is not a partisan issue. This is a people issue. There are things we have the right to know about, and the President must tell us." 1 Aug 2003

31 Jul 2003 On his television show The O'Reilly Factor, Bill O'Reilly declares: "We're confused about the WMDs. And Mr. Bush has an obligation to clear this up by the end of the year." 1 Jan 2004

8 Oct 2003 During his appearance on the National Public Radio interview program Fresh Air, Bill O'Reilly declares: "Well, certainly the WMD situation is troubling, okay. All Americans should demand within the next nine months -- before the Presidential candidate, uh candidates, really swing in -- for an explanation of what exactly happened. Americans will accept mistakes if mistakes were made honestly, but it needs to be defined by the Bush administration why the intelligence was faulty. And, uh, you know, there is no spin on that. They have to do it." 1 July 2004
Ah, but I did find a song to post--my song. Called "No Soy Monedita de Oro" by the vastly underappreciated Cuco Sanchez, who should have the same fame as his other fellow portly singer-songwriters Jose Alfredo Jimenez and Juan Gabriel. "No Soy Monedita de Oro" perfectly describes me--sure, it's rather belligerent, but better this song than, say, "Cama de Piedra" or "El Rey", no?

No Soy Monedita De Oro

Nací norteño hasta el tope,
me gusta decir verdades,
soy piedra que no se alisa
por más que talles y talles,

soy terco como una mula,
¿a dónde vas que no te halle?

En tu casa no me quieren
porque me vivo cantando,
me dicen que soy mariachi
y que no tengo pa' cuándo

mercarte el traje de novia,
que el tiempo te estoy quitando.

No soy monedita de oro
pa' caerle bien a todos;
así nací y así soy,
si no me quieren, ni modo.

El cielo tengo por techo,
nomás el sol por cobija,
dos brazos pa' mantenerme,
un corazón pa' tu vida;
ve, corre y dile a tus padres,
a ver quien da más por su hija.

Ay, corazón bandolero,
relincha ya cuanto quieras,
por esa potranca fina
que amansarás cuando puedas;

tú y yo no tenemos prisa,
ai, nos "quedrá" cuando quiera.

No soy monedita de oro ...»
No Desaires a los Hombres...

Free dinner to the person who knows what corrido I'm referring to!

The past two days have been spent working--no fun at all. However, writing for the Rag has always been bliss and games. For "work" yesterday, went to an Arabic restaurant right down the street from the coffin-dodgers at the California Coalition for Immigration Reform--wonder if they know that A-rabs are right down the street from them, not to mention a sushi bar, Korean memorial, Filipino produce store, and Mexican carniceria?

I've realized I need to go out more often--but to where? My idea of going out is spending time with people, but most of the people I know either go out by bar-hopping, drinking massively in their homes, or dancing--and I do neither. This is not to say that those I know aren't also up to spending some intellectual time, but no one wants to do it permanently like me. Maybe I should take up camp in Tierra de Fuego.

In one of my usual unlimited semiosis attacks earlier today, I remembered that Allen Ginsburg once penned a poem called "Thoughts on Hearing the Beatles for the First Time." I read it in a Rolling Stone when Ginsburg died but can no longer seem to find it. Let's see what the ol' Google can do...bastard!
Some Rotten.com history...

Nov 8 1991

Convicted crack smoker Marion Barry, who served six months in prison in 1990, is re-elected mayor of Washington D.C. Astonishing. And even more astonishing, on the same day Sonny Bono is elected to the United States Congress.

The following bio of Marion Barry is funny enough to warrant an entire excerpt:

Marion Barry
Marion Barry is easily one of the most colorful public officals in United States history. After serving as mayor of Washington, DC for 12 years, he was arrested for smoking crack in a hotel room in 1990 (caught on hidden camera no less) and forced to step down. After serving six months in a federal prison, he was inexplicibly re-elected in 1994. Perhaps Mayor Barry's legacy can best be described in his own words:

*"If you take out the killings, Washington actually has a very very low crime rate."
*"First, it was not a strip bar, it was an erotic club. And second, what can I say? I'm a night owl."
*"The brave men who died in Vietnam, more than 100% of which were black, were the ultimate sacrifice."
*"I am a great mayor; I am an upstanding Christian man; I am an intelligent man; I am a deeply educated man; I am a humble man."

Barry is a former Eagle Scout.

Personal update after I pick up my sister from work...

sexta-feira, novembro 07, 2003

So Americans like Mexico after all.

Get their cheap labor, get their land--this is the American way!
Some Daily Rotten history before I sleep:

Nov 7 1991

Magic Johnson announces that he is an AIDS victim. Perhaps the basketball player's condition has something to do with his sleeping promiscuously with thousands of women.

quinta-feira, novembro 06, 2003

I think I'm adopting a new rule--I'll never go out with a woman who spends $100 on a pair of jeans. Then again, I spent nearly $400 to acquire an entire encyclopedia of slur words, so who am I to snip at the expenditures of the young?
If I ever write a story like this or express the same sentiments, please kill me.

The story is so terrible (not the writing style--although that's rather dull, also, but the philosophy behind it), I have to excerpt parts and rip them...

There was a time when I considered $50 jeans at The Gap upscale. The thought of forking over any more money seemed ludicrous.

$50 for a pair of jeans?! Hell, I wouldn't pay $50 for a pair of anything outside glasses. Pants should run no more than $25--and they better be damn good khakis. Jeans...I don't wear jeans. And I guess that says a lot about me, no?

But more and more it seemed like everywhere I looked, some girl had on those jeans. I had to try them for myself, if only to dispel the hype.

This is a tale of caving in and finally crossing over to the $100 side of jeans.

Isn't it nice to see reporters cave in to the latest trends? Especially a reporter who usually covers the disgusting world of Garden Grove politics?

Our story begins in a dressing room at the South Coast Plaza Nordstrom, where I've been eyeing Laura Kimmel's fabulously jeaned derriere.

That really shows solidarity with your audience! Then again, it's the Reg, and I doubt many working class people read the paper for other than their fabulous sports section.

Women aren't the only ones. Guys are coughing up the moola to sport jeans from brands like Seven, AG, Diesel and paperdenim&cloth. Ask Xavier Molina, 28, of Orange.

"I think I collect them almost as much as I buy them to wear," said Molina, a graphic artist.

I think there's a term for men like Mr. Molina--chuppies!

Another wallet-draining side effect to my new habit: If I upgrade the jeans, I must also upgrade the shoes. The purse.

Sigh.

Poor journalist! That $40,000-a-year salary ain't paying you enough?

Excuse my commie rant. I have to go drive my Camry to enjoy drinks at my local entertainment establishment.


BTW, isn't Ms. Nguyen a hot piece o'? In fact, the Reg has an entire stable of hot fillies who can't write well but are the prettiest reporters around--much better than the trolls at the Rag or the gnomes at the LA Times. I'm not sure if there's a name for the principle, but I do believe that the quality of one's writing varies inversely with one's looks. That explains why the writers at the Rag are the best--we're hideous!
Let Me Take You Down 'Cause I'm Going to...

The Cafe Tacuba road trip sweepstakes is over. Barring unforeseen circumstances, I will venture to the Great Berkeley North with Fellow UCLAer and stay at her friend's house.

Why her? Well, she was the first person to express interest. Others I spoke to weren't too enthusiastic. Moral of the story--if you want to participate in adventures with me, let me know! If you don't say anything, I'll just assume you don't!

Of course, Fellow UCLAer was supposed to accompany me to see Cafe Tacuba with me in Fresno, and that didn't happen. What did happen was the most romantic 20 hours of my life--spent with someone else. No expectations this time--never expect anything, I've sadly learned.

quarta-feira, novembro 05, 2003

Funny How Time Slips Away...

So...my former co-worker called me after nearly 2 1/2 years of silence. Tears, laughter, accusations were exchanged, and I am once again left with the feeling I have the worst love luck on the planet. I didn't cry--she did--but what can I do except continue being myself and hope that someone, someday will accept me for who I am and not be in a situation where it's impossible for us to be together?

I'm going to stop now before I begin the weepy-moan rants I always think in my head. I might be a dork, but at least I have redeeming qualities--I think. And don't think I'm miserable right now--I'm not. But things do rather suck--and I have to write 3,000 words over the weekend with nary an interview!
Oh my God, where have you been?! And why did you decide to pop back into my life at this moment in time?!

Details to come later on tonight...
The articles this week for the Rag:

Fieldstone Communities harrasses Orange residents.

Rather self-explanatory--actually, not at all. So read it.

Review of El Gaucho Meat Market #2.

Very delicious--go, whether you live in Orange County or in the South Bay, home of the protean El Gauch Meat Market. Ours is better, though, by virtue of being in Orange County, so nya!
Danke Schoen...

Thank you, Petty Bourgeois, for your thoughtful response to my Saved by the Bell-inspired culture-reflection. Liked the disturbing Slater anecdote (which begs the question--what were you doing in a Hollywood Hills party circa 1999?). Don't think I've conveniently chosen to ignore your questions regarding my Cruz Bustamante-is-a-Mechista piece. I still have them in my inbox. But life at the Rag is so hectic at the moment, I must devote my brain cells elsewhere. I'm sure you understand and appreciate that you do.

And now--home ownership digging!
And finally, some wonderful historical moments courtesy of Daily Rotten...

Nov 5 1975

Logger Travis Walton is abducted by aliens near Snowflake, Arizona and is missing for five days. Aliens performed "various experiements" on the abductee. One can only imagine this involved anal probes of some manner. Needless to say, Walton finds the experience immensely lucrative as his experiences are chronicled in the mediocre book "Fire From the Sky" and a very bad film by Paramount.

Nov 5 1979

Ayatollah Khomeini declares the US to be "The Great Satan". In return, Time Magazine later selects the ayatollah "Man of the Year".

Nov 5 1994

Ronald Reagan announces that he has Alzheimer's. For some people it merely confirms what they suspected all along. [Trivia question: Which 1980's president fell asleep at an audience with the Pope?]
It's Been a Long Time, Now I'm Coming Back Home...

I've not been myself as of recent--hadn't read Daily Rotten in almost a week! But I must keep sane, so here are some rather fascinating stories...

Fart novelty toy causes havoc at airport.

As I've stated before, I'm not a fan of scatalogical humor, but found this story to be rather fun. And speaking of breaking wind, Johnny Arthur cuts some so noxious the EPA is looking to loosen regulations on him.

Kid gets harrassed by FBI for researching on the Internet.

For an Internutter like me, this is a particularly frightening story. And for the person who reached this infernal blog by typing in the keywords "pictures of kerry wood's wife", you're next.

Australia beats Namibia 142-0 in the Rugby World Cup.

A couple of weekends ago, DirectTV allowed us to view the variou sports channels for free. Spent most of that weekend watching the Rugby World Cup--saw a match between Wellington and Auckland in the New Zealand League, saw Fiji play someone and viewed Argentina match up rather well against Romania. Rugby is a graceful, always-moving sport--I'd venture to say it's more exciting than American football. And that belly-flop at the end for a try is so quirky I adopted it years ago everytime I scored a touchdown--on console football, of course.

Motel accused of barring 'coloreds' from pool.

Happened in--where else?--Florida. First the Cubans, now this.

White House giving Iraq, Afghanistan contracts to cronies.

Knew this story already, but deserves an excerpt:

Many of the companies that have received government contracts to rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan have collectively contributed more money to President Bush's election campaigns than to any other candidate in more than a decade, according to a study released yesterday.

In one of the most detailed studies of postwar contracts, the Center for Public Integrity, a nonprofit government watchdog, found that at least 70 companies have been awarded a total of $8 billion in contracts in the past two years.

While some of the contractors were previously known to have ties to White House officials -- such as Halliburton, formerly headed by Vice President Dick Cheney -- the group found several lesser-known firms that also are linked to senior government officials. One small company's sole employee is married to a deputy assistant secretary of defense, the study found.

Isn't that bloody special?

Escalator devours woman.

Comes on the heel's of last month's decapitation-by-elevator. Thank God I like to climb stairs.

Australian castaway sheep finally heading for the slaughterhouse--in Eritrea.

Deserves an excerpt:

"We are a very proud people. We would never have accepted unhealthy sheep," he said.

"But we are also realistic and pragmatic. If there is nothing wrong with them and we are getting them for free, that's good."

"We will slaughter the sheep and they will be used for consumption in Eritrea," he told AFP news agency.

Proud people, my ass. If you're starving, accept any food people may give you.

Man gets hand stuck in toilet trying to retrieve cell phone.

This story begs so many questions I'll offer none.

California recall election to be given the porn treatment.

The entire story:

California's colourful election to choose a new governor, won in early October by Hollywood star Arnold Schwarzenegger, is taking a fresh twist as the contest is turned into a porn movie.

One of the candidates in the race, adult actress Mary Carey, is poised to begin shooting a sexy behind-the-scenes view of the campaign.


The movie will co-star fellow hopefuls "Ernie Gropenegger" and the state's lieutenant governor "Spooge Cruztamante".

The characters' names are eerily reminiscent of those of Schwarzenegger - accused during his campaign of groping up to 16 women - and California's current deputy governor, Cruz Bustamante.

"It's kind of like satirical," said Mark Kulkis, president of Kickass Pictures which is producing the film.

"Our attorney told us to use different names from those of the real candidates, but I guess it's pretty obvious.

"I think that Mr Bustamante and Mr Schwarzenegger will take it in the fun spirit in which it's intended because we're not being mean-spirited at all with this."

Carey, 23, will play herself in the movie.

The two-hour picture will co-star porn star Ron Jeremy as Spooge Cruztamante and muscle-bound X-rated actor Lee Stone as Ernie Gropenegger.

If you've reached this far...email me! I'll give you a prize! Finally...

Monkeys overrun Indian city.

I love animals amok!

But now, work.

terça-feira, novembro 04, 2003

I Say a Little Prayer for You...

Dorky Angel

Ruega por ella.

Striggy

Ruega por ella.

Chava

Ruega por el

Someone

Ruega por ella

Raunchy Protestant

Ruega por ella

Downer Downey

Ruega por el

My Dearest Friend

Ruega por ella

And myself

Ruega por mi--pero ruega por otros antes de mi
Some Rotten.com history to begin the day...

Nov 4 1979

The US Embassy in Tehran is stormed by "students", holding 52 hostages for 444 days. The incident propels Ted Koppel and his magnificent hair onto the national scene with a long series of repetitive Nightline: America Held Hostage specials.

segunda-feira, novembro 03, 2003

On the Road Again...

Just finished seeing an episode of Saved by the Bell, the early 1990s NBC show that made pseudo-stars out of everyone--Mario Lopez went on to play Greg Louganis in a TV biopic, Tiffany Amber-Thiessen became a babe for about three seasons of Beverly Hills 90210, Elizabeth Berkeley threw it all away for the reprehensible Showgirls, Mark Paul-however-you-spell-that last name dyed his hair black, Dustin Diamond commodified his character much like Urkel (quick aside--wasn't the last couple of season of Family Matters hilariously bad? When Urkel would morph into Stephan Urquelle and his big-busted beau Laura--was that her name?--would immediately flutter for him? I vaguely recall an episode where she made Urkel turn into Urquelle despite there being some health issues involved. And, at the Jump the Shark section of the show, Urkel would even appear as a Southern female cousin who lusted for Eddie!).

Cut to the chase--the Saved by the Bell episode today was when they all had summer jobs at a country club and the chefs went on strike. They spoke Spanish and aired their grievances through Slater, who spoke rather-good Spanish.

Which leads to the following observation--kids don't give a fuck about race and ethnicity, college students do.

When I was young, I never thought of others by race, class, or gender--well, scratch that last one since I was lusting after something. But when I'd see Slater on Saved by the Bell, I didn't think of what his ethnicity was even if his skin was darker than his fellow classmates. When he spoke in Spanish to the workers (from my first viewing of the episode nearly a decade ago), I didn't even blink.

But just this year, when Lopez finally addressed his Latino heritage, I immediately began thinking why his Latino ethnicity was never an issue on the show. Then, I began getting rather annoyed that he didn't. Seeing the show today didn't make me relieved, it made me disgusted--at myself.

When I was young, I had Chinese friends, Jewish friends, Indian friends, Muslim friends, Pakistani--from all over the world. And we never gave it any thought. It wasn't until college that I began seeing the world through racial and classist glasses. And while some people (myself included) might attribute that to the development of my social conscious, I also must say that college played some role in it, although I still cannot point out exactly what it is. Any thoughts, Petty Bourgeois or Pinochet Apologist? Is the university system really such a bastion of PC madness that destroys rather than opens opportunities?

I'm all ears for this, people. But I'm still an unrepentant leftist. But I'm also not an idealogue--I'm a human, foibles and all.
Shake it Like a Polaroid...

Some anti-religion fun courtesy of Pinochet Apologist...

Students for A None Religious Ethos Weekly Update

Due to the large number of midterms coming up this week, there will be no meeting this Wednesday. However, we do have something to keep you occupied in case you need your weekly dose of SANE. Recently we received an email addressed to SANE from one or more Christians who thought it important to teach us the error of our ways. Given the tone and content (and since I'm still feeling a little evil from Halloween), we thought we'd share it with everyone on the list. Respond however you wish, but please be civil. You can refute them point by point. Or send them an essay about evolution. Or even write back how their email has saved your soul from eternal damnation. Be creative!
**********************
[From dgodfrey@jayco.net]

Dear Non-Believers,

I don't see how there can't be a God. I mean, how could all of us be an accident? We're all made so uniquiquely! Hold out your hand, palm up. Make a fist and open your hand again. How can you tell me that the way our bodies work is an accident? I don't believe in evolution, but even if we did evolve from something,how would that creature exist? If we came from monkeys, why are there still monkeys? How were the monkeys created, anyway? Atheism contradicts itself in so many ways that it's almost funny. Pray. Tell God you're sorry for your sins and you believe that he sent his son to die for you. Ask him to come into your life and make you a better person. And remember, there aren't going to be any atheists in hell, because by then you'll believe in God, but it'll be to late. Don't put it off. God loves you and wants you to be his child.
***********************
Josiah Greene, Ananth Krishna, and Adam Mann, Co-Presidents
Students for A Nonreligious Ethos
http://www.ocf.berkeley.edu/~sane
sane@ocf.berkeley.edu
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"If we came from monkeys, why are there still monkeys?"
-- dgodfrey@jayco.net

To be removed from this list, simply respond to sane@ocf.berkeley.edu with the subject header "And don't spam them [remove]" and you will be removed immediately.
--
The letter has to be a prank. God doesn't want anyone to be His child--he wants them to treat others better. At least that's what I received out of liberation theology.

BTW, I find it very delicious that one of the co-presidents of SANE is named after the Hindu version of Christ. God does have a sense of humor!

--
Was rather bizarre yesterday. Slept only two hours--if that--because I stayed up all night for my parents, who came back from visiting the motherland. Reason I stayed up was because my sister told me they were coming in at three in the morning. Since I was already planning to stay up late playing Texas Hold 'Em with the Boys, decided to wait up for them. When they didn't come at 3, I decided they were probably running into fire-related delays. When I napped for about two hours and awoke at 5:20, they still weren't home. Panicked (in the meanwhile, I dreamnt that someone had stolen two tires from my car), I called the cell-phone of the people my parents were travelling with. My parents informed me that they were in Pomona and would probably honk around six in the morning--the time they were supposed to come at all along.

I've stayed up all night before but only for the right reasons (wink, wink, chicka-bowng-wowng). But if I don't get sleep for stupid reasons like this, my day is ruined. So most of yesterday was spent in a livid stupor, as I drove to Placentia, Irvine, SanTana, and other cities for various reasons. By the time I talked to Dorky Angel, I couldn't even muster enough rancor to amuse her for much time. I was so tired, I didn't even see Enanitos Verdes--and they're one of my all-time faves.

Moral of the story--never listen to your younger sister, especially if she's up late because she's ga-ga over her boyfriend.
The Beard Olympics

Nobody emails me anymore from my Shameless Self-Promotion List. And thus, I'm annoyed.

domingo, novembro 02, 2003

Played card yesterday with the Boys--much hilarity ensued, I lost $10.

Best line of the night:

I once had this dance class, and we learned about some bitch named Martha Graham.

Most shocking revelation of the night:

Johnny Arthur once performed in an interpretive dance recital.

Everyone called me creepy for my morals. Geez, I even disgust myself.

My life has almost begun--I just need to read six more back issues of the New Yorker. If you think that's enough, just realize that about two weeks ago, I had 15 issues piling up, remnants of a summer that never was.

Any takers on a road trip to Northern California to see Cafe Tacuba?

sábado, novembro 01, 2003

Rotten history...

Nov 1 1896

Tits appear for the first time in National Geographic, starting a trend of providing masturbation material to youth for decades. The tits are attached to a Zulu woman.

Nov 1 1939

A rabbit that was born of artificial insemination is shown to the world. History does not record why anyone felt that rabbits needed any help in the procreation department.