fascinating, via arthur magazine, which who needs the da vinci code when you have arthur magazine?

The psychedelic secrets of Santa Claus
by Dana Larsen, Cannabis Culture Magazine (18 Dec, 2003)

Modern Christmas traditions are based on ancient mushroom-using shamans.

Although most people see Christmas as a Christian holiday, most of the symbols and icons we associate with Christmas celebrations are actually derived from the shamanistic traditions of the tribal peoples of pre-Christian Northern Europe.

The sacred mushroom of these people was the red and white amanita muscaria mushroom, also known as “fly agaric.” These mushrooms are now commonly seen in books of fairy tales, and are usually associated with magic and fairies. This is because they contain potent hallucinogenic compounds, and were used by ancient peoples for insight and transcendental experiences.

Most of the major elements of the modern Christmas celebration, such as Santa Claus, Christmas trees, magical reindeer and the giving of gifts, are originally based upon the traditions surrounding the harvest and consumption of these most sacred mushrooms.

The world tree

These ancient peoples, including the Lapps of modern-day Finland, and the Koyak tribes of the central Russian steppes, believed in the idea of a World Tree. The World Tree was seen as a kind of cosmic axis, onto which the planes of the universe are fixed. The roots of the World Tree stretch down into the underworld, its trunk is the “middle earth” of everyday existence, and its branches reach upwards into the heavenly realm.

The amanita muscaria mushrooms grow only under certain types of trees, mostly firs and evergreens. The mushroom caps are the fruit of the larger mycelium beneath the soil which exists in a symbiotic relationship with the roots of the tree. To ancient people, these mushrooms were literally “the fruit of the tree.”

The North Star was also considered sacred, since all other stars in the sky revolved around its fixed point. They associated this “Pole Star” with the World Tree and the central axis of the universe. The top of the World Tree touched the North Star, and the spirit of the shaman would climb the metaphorical tree, thereby passing into the realm of the gods. This is the true meaning of the star on top of the modern Christmas tree, and also the reason that the super-shaman Santa makes his home at the North Pole.

Ancient peoples were amazed at how these magical mushrooms sprang from the earth without any visible seed. They considered this “virgin birth” to have been the result of the morning dew, which was seen as the semen of the deity. The silver tinsel we drape onto our modern Christmas tree represents this divine fluid.

Reindeer games

The active ingredients of the amanita mushrooms are not metabolized by the body, and so they remain active in the urine. In fact, it is safer to drink the urine of one who has consumed the mushrooms than to eat the mushrooms directly, as many of the toxic compounds are processed and eliminated on the first pass through the body.

It was common practice among ancient people to recycle the potent effects of the mushroom by drinking each other’s urine. The amanita’s ingredients can remain potent even after six passes through the human body. Some scholars argue that this is the origin of the phrase “to get pissed,” as this urine-drinking activity preceded alcohol by thousands of years.

Reindeer were the sacred animals of these semi-nomadic people, as the reindeer provided food, shelter, clothing and other necessities. Reindeer are also fond of eating the amanita mushrooms; they will seek them out, then prance about while under their influence. Often the urine of tripped-out reindeer would be consumed for its psychedelic effects.

This effect goes the other way too, as reindeer also enjoy the urine of a human, especially one who has consumed the mushrooms. In fact, reindeer will seek out human urine to drink, and some tribesmen carry sealskin containers of their own collected piss, which they use to attract stray reindeer back into the herd.

The effects of the amanita mushroom usually include sensations of size distortion and flying. The feeling of flying could account for the legends of flying reindeer, and legends of shamanic journeys included stories of winged reindeer, transporting their riders up to the highest branches of the World Tree.

Santa Claus, super shaman

Although the modern image of Santa Claus was created at least in part by the advertising department of Coca-Cola, in truth his appearance, clothing, mannerisms and companions all mark him as the reincarnation of these ancient mushroom-gathering shamans.

One of the side effects of eating amanita mushrooms is that the skin and facial features take on a flushed, ruddy glow. This is why Santa is always shown with glowing red cheeks and nose. Even Santa’s jolly “Ho, ho, ho!” is the euphoric laugh of one who has indulged in the magic fungus.

Santa also dresses like a mushroom gatherer. When it was time to go out and harvest the magical mushrooms, the ancient shamans would dress much like Santa, wearing red and white fur-trimmed coats and long black boots.

These peoples lived in dwellings made of birch and reindeer hide, called “yurts.” Somewhat similar to a teepee, the yurt’s central smokehole is often also used as an entrance. After gathering the mushrooms from under the sacred trees where they appeared, the shamans would fill their sacks and return home. Climbing down the chimney-entrances, they would share out the mushroom’s gifts with those within.

The amanita mushroom needs to be dried before being consumed; the drying process reduces the mushroom’s toxicity while increasing its potency. The shaman would guide the group in stringing the mushrooms and hanging them around the hearth-fire to dry. This tradition is echoed in the modern stringing of popcorn and other items.

The psychedelic journeys taken under the influence of the amanita were also symbolized by a stick reaching up through the smokehole in the top of the yurt. The smokehole was the portal where the spirit of the shaman exited the physical plane.

Santa’s famous magical journey, where his sleigh takes him around the whole planet in a single night, is developed from the “heavenly chariot,” used by the gods from whom Santa and other shamanic figures are descended. The chariot of Odin, Thor and even the Egyptian god Osiris is now known as the Big Dipper, which circles around the North Star in a 24-hour period.

In different versions of the ancient story, the chariot was pulled by reindeer or horses. As the animals grow exhausted, their mingled spit and blood falls to the ground, forming the amanita mushrooms.

St Nicholas and Old Nick

Saint Nicholas is a legendary figure who supposedly lived during the fourth Century. His cult spread quickly and Nicholas became the patron saint of many varied groups, including judges, pawnbrokers, criminals, merchants, sailors, bakers, travelers, the poor, and children.

Most religious historians agree that St Nicholas did not actually exist as a real person, and was instead a Christianized version of earlier Pagan gods. Nicholas’ legends were mainly created out of stories about the Teutonic god called Hold Nickar, known as Poseidon to the Greeks. This powerful sea god was known to gallop through the sky during the winter solstice, granting boons to his worshippers below.

When the Catholic Church created the character of St Nicholas, they took his name from “Nickar” and gave him Poseidon’s title of “the Sailor.” There are thousands of churches named in St Nicholas’ honor, most of which were converted from temples to Poseidon and Hold Nickar. (As the ancient pagan deities were demonized by the Christian church, Hold Nickar’s name also became associated with Satan, known as “Old Nick!”)

Local traditions were incorporated into the new Christian holidays to make them more acceptable to the new converts. To these early Christians, Saint Nicholas became a sort of “super-shaman” who was overlaid upon their own shamanic cultural practices. Many images of Saint Nicholas from these early times show him wearing red and white, or standing in front of a red background with white spots, the design of the amanita mushroom.

St Nicholas also adopted some of the qualities of the legendary “Grandmother Befana” from Italy, who filled children’s stockings with gifts. Her shrine at Bari, Italy, became a shrine to St Nicholas.

Modern world, ancient traditions

Some psychologists have discussed the “cognitive dissonance” which occurs when children are encouraged to believe in the literal existence of Santa Claus, only to have their parents’ lie revealed when they are older. By so deceiving our children we rob them of a richer heritage, for the actual origin of these ancient rituals is rooted deep in our history and our collective unconscious. By better understanding the truths within these popular celebrations, we can better understand the modern world, and our place in it.

Many people in the modern world have rejected Christmas as being too commercial, claiming that this ritual of giving is actually a celebration of materialism and greed. Yet the true spirit of this winter festival lies not in the exchange of plastic toys, but in celebrating a gift from the earth: the fruiting top of a magical mushroom, and the revelatory experiences it can provide.

Instead of perpetuating outdated and confusing holiday myths, it might be more fulfilling to return to the original source of these seasonal celebrations. How about getting back to basics and enjoying some magical mushrooms with your loved ones this solstice? What better gift can a family share than a little piece of love and enlightenment?

FURTHER LINKS AND REFERENCES:

• The Hidden Meanings of Christmas, Mushrooms and Mankind, by James Arthur
• Santa Claus & the Amanita Muscaria, by Jimmy Bursenos
• Who put the Fly Agaric into Christmas?, Seventh International Mycological Congress, December 1999, Fungus of the Month
• The Real Story of Santa, The Spore Print, Los Angeles Mycological Society, December 1998
• Santa and those Reindeer: The Hallucinogenic Connection, The Physics of Christmas, by Roger Highfield
• Fungi, Fairy Rings and Father Christmas, North West Fungus Group, 1998 Presidential Address, by Dr Sean Edwards
• Fly Agaric, Tom Volk’s Fungus of the Month for December 1999
• Father Christmas Flies on Toadstools, New Scientist, December 1986
• Psycho-mycological studies of amanita: From ancient sacrament to modern phobia, by Jonathan Ott, Journal of Psychedelic Drugs; 1976
• Santa is a Wildman, LA Times, Jeffrey Vallance

BOOKS WORTH READING:

• Mushrooms and Mankind, by James Arthur
• Soma: Divine Mushroom of Immortality, by Gordon Wasson
• Mushrooms, Poisons and Panaceas, by Denis R. Benjamin
Comments (0)

hype machine

lol but maybe you need to read the myspace beach house "california deathstar" blog first(?)

should i go to the concert

This blog is so distuuuuurbing.
I guess anyone's would be if they wrote in a diary style.

I was going to go to the David Copperfuck concert tonight, but for some reason I can't decide if I should... I am listening to their Live at KZSU album that I downloaded from them. Racoons has really amazing lyrics. "We like trash/cause we eat it/we like trash cause/ we're greedy..." I guess I would go because I listen to this album rather frequently, and because went through a period of believing "Lady Boner" ("this song is about a dead dog in a suitcase") was about me - because of the huge suitcase I had in the living room of Molly and Dean's house, and because of my sense of entitlement to act grumpy because of how depressed I am. However, there are a lot of lyrics that I can't even decipher, so I'd be hesitant to put forward even the slightest argument as to what this is about.

I was a pretty big fan of the Facial Expressions, the band where Andrew Leland was the frontman and shrieked lyrics about whatever was on his mind. The only lyrics I can remember are "Tisch! NYU! Tisch! NYU!" They were a hardcore band, like David Copperfuck. By "pretty big fan" I am just speaking of how much I supported them mentally. I think I smiled when they were performing.

Anyway, the members of D.C. think I am extremely weird, as a result of a number of things.

David Copperfuck sings a song, "Night Blindness", about Andrew's macular degeneration retinitis pigementosa. "I can't see you/ I can't see you/ I can't see me/ I can't see you."

They think I'm weird because I washed their floor when I stayed there. They think I'm weird because I was not as cool as them in college. They think I'm weird because I was experimenting with my personality during some portions of the time I stayed with them. I definitely felt super weird at this one bbq Dean was at when my head was shaved. Dean thinks I'm weird because I made him pay for my dinner without telling him why, but it was because I lent 20 dollars to him once in college. I guess that was immature of me.

i needed to get my last post with all the swear words out of my own face.
i am going to a cocktail hour with my krazy coworker stephanie. she is a fun girl, i am waiting for her to finish going to the bathroom or something. um, i'm sure she wouldn't want that announced.

I forgot what I was going to name this post?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smoking_Popes
what the fuck are CROONING VOCALS?
HEY BRIAN I REALLY WANTED TO SEE THE COINS OF VEGETABLES IN NON-ESSENTIAL STOCK PHOTOGRAPHY!
I have been hanging out with my roommates and one of my roommates' friends. Things we talked about:
New Yorker's most recent Annals of Medecine
Cheetahs
Rock music
Someone in the room's powerful, powerful uncle.


It was fun.

What the fuck is AP style- who the fuck cares? Oh shit, these commas are so confusing and scary, and apostrophers.

It is almost 2 in the morning, I feel like I am going insane. Er, what else is n.e.w.?

famer's almanac

farmer's almanac

everybody hates chris

the cw is so racially charged for a tv station.

souffles

this is a velvet underground lyric that i like:

"some kinds of love are mistaken for vision"

what does this lyric mean to you?

reportage

kelly link interview, it's so cool. she's great. thanks professor!

the guy who produced the cars produced bohemian rhapsody. i can't remember his name!

omg, you know what i want to freaking go to? the spanish language addies (advertising awards).

stupid faces

I DON"T FEEL WELL

impressions of hot shots, part deux

i THINK i am watching hot shots, part deux. it's on tv. oh yeah, this movie is awesome. the fencing reminds me of how i need to play sports. man, i really like sports, gotta get back in them. also, charlie sheen = brian koplaw.

I'm not doing anything for halloween because i don't really like hanging out by myself, or hanging out with people, so riding the train by myself to hang out with people doesn't appeal to me. does that make sense? i'm making one of the 7 recipes i know, chipotle chicken quesadillas, substituting tofu for chicken because even though i'm not a vegetarian, i am scared to buy chicken, putting in too much tomato i think, and the recipe calls for "cracking open a beer" midway through, and i don't have any beer (though my roommates do, but maybe i am too poor to afford beer? who cares anyway).
the shit is bubbling merrily on the stove. other recipes i know by heart well enough to shop for them at the grocery store:
blueberry pancakes (recipe from new basics includes orange zest and nutmeg and sour cream- yums)
burritos (kind of maxed out on those years ago)
french onion soup (also from new basics)
ah... anyway there are a few more, i don't feel like thinking hard enough to access them.
so, it's halloween. yeah, we established that. there is NOTHING going on out in the street. i was going to buy white kit kats and give them out (because i am white). but, it's good that i didn't.
tostadas from moosewood cookbook
cream of carrot soup, from the internet
well anyway that's not enough recipes. i was reading in marcella hazan somewhere some chicken recipes: in one you stuff a chicken with three lemons and just cook it. fun! i will make that with madeleine sometime perhaps, it seems like something she'd enjoy (in a weird way? also, her mom)
does anyone want to hear madeleine mom stories? man, madeleine's mom is weird. she has her eyeliner tattooed on. she has lyme disease. this is weird so far... she throws weird, funny parties. like... once she had an alien party? but she had to practice, so she got madeleine to invite her friends over? does anyone know that picture of me wearing a purple leather jacket? that picture is from that practice party, and that coat belongs to madeleine's mom, none other than.
you probably know that picture of me because there are like, under 15 pictures that have been taken of me since 2003.
beer in measuring cup, arms crossed, blue shirt
purple leather jacket with eyes cast downward
anyway yeah, those are it. no one takes my picture, and you know what? that's kind of a good thing. my new myspace picture is awesome and i look like a crazy bug in it! hooray.
so i am missing gossip girl. gotta go!

groceries

i was going to write a blog about how i know how to cook a few things and can't buy groceries beyond what i know how to cook. but instead, i could spend the time learning a new recipe. except, oh well. too late.

other things i intended to cover:

high school weird girl, with huge mustache. way bigger than the mustache i have today.

the garden in greenpoint is a stupid place with stupid hipsters.

a polish girl who was 15 was giving me attitude at the drugstore where i was buying mustache bleach, possibly for accidentally looking at her boyfriend. i found this surprising, as i was buying mustache bleach.

i saw a really fat guy on the g train.

i don't like it when people look at me in a rude or obnoxious manner. it's like, mind your own business, retard. where do you think you are going to get with that?

my boss is a very whisical guy. i asked him to indicate which 40 of 200 distribution points he wanted me to put on this ad, and when his assistant delivered his answer to me, it was "Put Everything." he's just kind of whisical like that. it's funny, like living in a satire. our promotional holiday party has a name: "Magic Party." huh? well, whatever.

tracy morgan is cooler than alec baldwin. black people are sometimes cooler than white people.

someone made fun of nina lalli in a letter to the village voice today. that girl went to my college. the first time i saw her i got sort of freaked out. she was wearing huge hot pink feather earrings and a tight t-shirt that said "lush shiksa" and designer jeans that probably cost about $400. she had the most intense, 80s aesthetic designer jeans i had ever seen in my life. i hate sometimes how i went to school with shitty rich kids who had such nice clothes that they make you feel like you weren't good enough or something. anyway, they made fun of her for being racist in an article she wrote about food.

recapitulated

i am just writing another post now because i feel like it. i bought 2 psychedelic shirts from beacon's closet.

SCAMS AND FLAMS

i was listening to shim sham club over and over again today. OH MAN AMANDA LISTENS TO THE CHERRY BLOSSOM CLINIC WITH TERRE T

sometimes i want to ask people:

how is that funny?

i am going to stab my eyes out now with a little mermaid dagger.

BRIMFUL OF STARLIGHT, AND HE SAID: THE STAMPER OF THE SKIES,
HE IS A GENTLE ROEBUCK; FOR HOW ELSE, I PRAY, COULD HE
CONCEIVE A THING SO SAD AND SOFT, A GENTLE THING LIKE ME?

pong

My office has a ping-pong tournament every Friday at 5:30. It started three weeks ago. Today was the third tournament. The same person has won all three tournaments so far. (Not me). I always feel stupid when I lose to him, as I am the 2nd seed and I really think I should beat him at least half the time. I think it's more of a rules issue than a skill and experience issue; I was good about declaring the sharp pieces of wood and "Hoy!" dropbox out-of-bounds before the tournaments got underway; but not about making sure everyone knew that the server has to declare the score before serving, and then enforcing that in my own games. I tend to be easily manipulated! Psychologically, we are well-matched opponents. So I need to investigate why I'm losing, psychologically. I decided then I've been relying too much on kills and not "pushing the volley". And also, part of it is skill and practice. Like, today I developed more of a forehand.
I told my boss on the train home today that if I played him at ping-pong, I would destroy him. This is the kind of thing you are not supposed to say to your boss. But it was true, and I was pretty tired, so I said it. The tournament's pretty fun- I would like to do that at work all day (not really). It's a nice way to beat people at things that don't matter so they give you mad respect (actually, that doesn't really happen so much). I don't like beating people who are way worse at it than I am, because I think they aren't even trying. Yesterday I played this girl, as the tournament was set up wrong, who I had to wipe the table with just so I could practice in a hard-core way. As I developed my forehand.

Five hours later: i feel less like a person who played ping pong and more like someone who is tired and ill, as I slept very little the night before, and just got back from a noise rock concert with my roommate. I met Andrew's friend, George. I also met someone from Dallas named Avi who knows my blog roll occupant/improbable accquaintance Jeffrey Max. So I know your real last name now, Jeffrey. These two occurances may seem improbable, but the noise-rock community is very small. No, not really. But the Dallas private school (I think) community is very small. And my roommate knew George from the west coast.

12 hours later from that: I doing weird stuff with pictures.

3 hours later from that: I am sitting and doing nothing I am going to get nothing done this weekend. Like, oops. But at least I am going to hang out with my friend named Brian Koplow.

1 hour later: Man, I fucking hate being a "gentry". I hate that people think I am a gentry. Although, looking at who I associate with I guess I am a gentry. I don't know anyone in this neighborhood who used to live here. Maybe that's what I'll be for Hallowe'en instead of Joelle Van Dyne. A gentry. Riding a broomstick horse.

3 hours later: I am sitting at my computer eating dinner in the dark. I would rather sit in the dark even when I'm alone. I would also rather there were no streetlights, even though that would increase the danger quotient, supposedly. I don't totally think that's so. When there are no streetlights, your eyes adjust, when there is starlight.

Dear Diary,
I just ate so many pieces of pizza!
My past blog post, which I just read over, is so confusing.
Let me say this:
bad stories: not going to tell you which ones
gaye advert---> song "gary gilmore's eyes" ---> norman mailer's true crime novel (true crime? what's the real name for that?) about gary gilmore.
root beer glasses: there was a drinking root beer incident with volleyball --->hanging out with an old teammate

bleh! i am going to be raymi for hallowed 'een. oh, not so. all i would have to do would be buy an orange dress and wear knee socks and take lots of pictures of myself pouting, and take pictures of food. oh yeah, exhibitionist blogging.

i don't actually plan on spending my halloween "in the blogosphere".

i'd like to offer my congratulations to dave s. for being named "best dogwalker..." by the village voice. i assume he has friends at the voice. not that he is not the best dogwalker.

i'm watching gossip girl because that's what all the cool people do. it's kind of...good? my favorite part is how the costume designers can barely dress the really tall main character. none of her clothes fit her!!! ha ha. she's probably less than 6 feet tall, too. it sucks to be tall. it sucks to not be average, which is kind of weird. what's wrong with me? sorry that this is my blog.

smoking room

I am doing some major procrastinating right now! Trying to avoid reviewing these horrible stories. Sitting in our little undecorated basement common room, oriented towards the television set.

Gaye Advert.



It currently smells like fireplaces in Bed Stuy, curiously these smell the same as fireplaces in Middleburg, VA, where my parents' best friends live. It's rural so maybe it's the smell of a bonfire. They are friends with one of the Smothers Brothers. Now it smells really ridiculous, like a yew log is burning.

A fruitless google image search for yew log has left with the feeling that I really meant "yule log".
Today I hung out with an old volleyball peppering partner, Erin Raker Sisk. Erin is even taller than I am, 5'11"! We went into an art-supply store to ask someone a question about the location of B&H, and there, while idly staring around the store, I noticed a handwritten sign:

(image to come)

it said "williamsburg black oil: lead-based painting oil, $18 a bottle".

It was fun hanging out with Erin- both of our jeans were a little too short, and she is so amazing at parallel parking (like me).

We both admitted to having stress dreams about volleyball.

Something weird is that we both looked taller to each other than we actually are. I told her I thought it was because our eyes are only like 5'7", and that's why it's hard to tell.

Erin was smart enough to quit the team when the immaturity of our 24 year old coach, Brian, became an issue! That guy was pretty good at volleyball, though. He could dance and prance and jump around the court with grace. He had an immature fit in front of all of us once that made Amanda Christiansen cry.

david holzman's diary

i am watching a movie i chose at photoplay, a greenpt. video store amanda recommended to me. it's called david holzman's diary. right now a stoned guy with an accent is saying really serious things and seems very concerned and he's shooting like from standing on a sofa and there's a weird painting behind him and it's a very long take and a pretty long shot. i don't think i'm doing justice to how good this movie has been so far. i chose it because the cover was so laudatory and it said it was in the lib of congress along with some things like "touch of evil". i need to see the orson welles movies. i like photoplay. the guy there told me to rent "broken english", a sad thing that i could hardly watch, but it was good. the thing i like best is that they have "the milky way" which is this completely insane bunuel movie, right there on the wall. that movie is what i imagine wes anderson is referring to in the dvd extras of "the royal tenenbaums", when he refers to bunuel. the PA thinks he means "the discreet charm of the bourgeoisie", but when he says that, wes anderson makes the saddest, most helpless face. ok

the room got heavy

hey everyone. guess hwat- raymi is in america- or maybe she was in america recently, but it's an interesting thing to do, reading about a normally in toronto person's take on america.

violating no social rules, i am going to tell you about googling andrew's name! it used to be (like a week ago) that when you googled andrew's name, the first hit was this; but now it's this. oh wait a second, wrong, i must have googled something else to get to the story about andrew's lunch in a wine bag. ha ha ha ha ha. i was there when he made that, i remember it, pretty funny, i was surprised to read about it again.
is reading this post making your insides boil up and froth with anger? if so, there is truly something wrong with you, and what that thing is is called "hypocrisy". examples of hypocrisy: when you tell someone that they need to do their dishes after every meal, and then you don't- and instead of admitting you were wrong, you start harping on some other little thing that your housemates do. hypocrisy is when different standards apply to you, than to other people. i also think it goes without saying that hypocrisy is bad. have you ever HEARD of hypocrisy? like, what is it in a fable? a fable?

ugh what the fuck, i need to go grocery shopping. i don't have any friends. does that please you? if so, that is pretty fucked up, i would go to far as to say it's VERY fucked up. that's called schadenfreude! uh oh! seriously. that's also pretty bad. i think that i SHOULD have friends- i would go so far as to say that i am (currently) a good friend to those who deserve it. have you heard the word "deserve" before? it means when you are judged by standards that should apply to everyone. oh yeah, currently. maybe not in the past. well certainly. but please.

you know what? i don't think i've ever listened to i can hear the heart beating as one, before. i'm listening to it now. great. my only friend is a cd. it's a good cd i guess. i guess maybe i listened to it from that comp that came out. i got into an argument with one liz gallardo in 2001 about whether sonic youth was better than yo la tengo. it was a funny argument i was wrong, YLT isn't better than SY, and it didn't really get supported by any evidence from either of us, and we were just walking through the hall. when i think of the memory my brain doses me with the thought of an ironing board. in that same hall that guy named tennessee grimes was once at a party and had taken a lot of cough syrup and was holding himself terrified and miserable, an inch away from a doorjamb.

moby octopad + and then nothing turned itself inside out + better aspects of painful + ride the tiger's cover + covers album + the room got heavy
v. sonic youth's entire catalog + thurston moore's friendster profile

yeah- i think you'd have to take it song by song, like a high shcool tennis tournament, ranking the songs and playing them against each other, and scoring it like that (internet research needed- i didn't play high school tennis). i'm not qualified to do this, unfortunately. there's a lot of each band i haven't heard, especially ylt.

uh, i need a b l t. ok goodbye.

sound terrorism

gorky's zygotic mynci



(9/27) though my roommate just went into his room and shut the door when i put them on, i certainly feel like everyone should be able to relate to appreciate the music of the great band, gorky's zygotic mynci. they are awesome aiiii! chelsea plays them on her radio show, but the way i found out is that my mom got some mercury recods free from someone once a long time ago. significantly, cake. so i had the cake cd. [redacted] people who had expendable income in high school [redacted redacted] ok thanks. i should be at the skeletons concert but last time i went it was a little weird, the last time at paris london west nile anyway. i don't know why- maybe because zeljko dude made his dog play the tambourine. other than that, i enjoyed myself. {redacted}.

(9/29) my house smells okay now that i took the trash out. our scented trashbags waft a delicious frangrance throughout the room. i am going to buy a guitar today.

BAM! i'm listening to the GZM anthem (not an anthem) miss trudy, which is like a song version of "the piano teacher". [redacted].

i have been reading this michael chricton book "travels", it's an autobiography. michael chricton is the american roald dahl. anyway i was think about sound terrorism because there's this part in "the andromeda strain" (i think) about how aliens would kill us all with sound. this is a tie-in to mr. snacks' post about that. we should all invest in stuff to protect our ears and, furthermore, our brains. what are some synonyms for futhermore and moreover? feel free to post these synonyms anonymously as comments.

i would like to know where bernard matambo is right now. hello?

bernard is a nice name. i almost thought "babar". the elephant!

you know what i wish? i wish that i had friends. [redacted] motherfucker [redacted] jealous [redacted] coffee [redacted] sorry about your parents, but [redacted]. i think gorky's zygotic mynci also wishes that i had friends. oh yeah, but maybe not, maybe they wish that i would just die or something. [redacted]!!!!!!!!

i am throwing up brownies in my mind right now.


nathalie franques used to have "Rhythm Song," "In Her Prime," and "This Life" (3 strokes songs) which i used to have as well.

yes i am listening to the strokes right now. yes i am listening to evol right now now! sorry i hate this blog too, you all know about these things that i know about. i don't really bring anything to table, pure information wise. there's supposed to be a hyphen there. i'm okay at grammer. wrt to grammer, i am the second coming of jimi hendrix, actually that isn't true. okay. i ate some indian food that had {redacted} in it. i feel kinda ill. okay okay. i am going to buy blue goodbye money furtinrue.

character traits in opposition to each other

i was having this involved sleepy fantasy where i had to ask someone what the hardest thing they ever did was, and then the person asked me what MY hardest thing i ever did was. so then i woke up from the fantasy and tried to figure out what it was. i guess the answer was (you guys are really getting insight into my weird internal life now) that it was the hardest to figure out the balance between courage and humility, like the interplay between the two. i guess the way you do it, or the way i did it, was figure out which trait was the more lacking, and then try to find some more of it. probably everyone overcompensates when they try to do this. then you have to go back to your roots.

for example, if there was a man, uh and he had a cat. and the cat was very pretty. and it was always smiling. sorry i got distracted and forgot, obviously this isn't a very good parable.

okay. say there was a man. he was very self confident, but one day he ran over a baby in his car, because he never watched where he was going.

okay. say there was a man. he was very shy. he was always late for work because he was so shy about merging in traffic. he got fired.

okay so both of these people are fucked. neither one is fucked more than the other.

anyway it's like the balance beam. kim zemeskl. the most awesome gymnast. you guys remember from like time magazine. how did she do the balance beam? she did not try to achieve some sort of vibrating flow of impossible balance, she practiced a lot and she knew what her limits were, and then she also learned how to do aweome leaps and flips- by PRACTICING A LOT.

this is a psychology blog.

it's fall which means it's college radio time.

i recommend listening to "friend music" though it's on at a very odd time of night for me here on the east coast. once someone on that show started crying on-air because he was lonely, for an extended period of time he went on sobbing. it sort of sounded like he was JUST PRETENDING but then also the things he was saying were really sad. like, "i see people walking down the street and they are with their boyfriends and girlfriends and i don't know what to do and it makes me so lonely!" and his friends didn't even seem to know what to say to him, they were like awkwardly waffling, but then he stopped crying and it seemed just like, the weirdest thing i've ever heard on the radio, which is saying a lot. i also recommend listening to a radio show by someone named "p. corwin lamm", or "corky", on wobc, who is some kind of radio genius.

everyone here already knows to listen to chelsea's radio show.

time for sleepies...

i was trying to buy buffalo mozzeralla today, when amanda helpfully told me it was closed on sun.s. so i went to that place on court street that sells expensive clothes, but has an extensive sale rack. i bought myself some medieval page corduroys that are also leggings. i think they are okay. the woman who owns it was super-weird. her shopgirl had a retainer and a mouth full of braces and was nice.

it's a good thing i now have some dark green corduroy pants. i guess. soon i am going to buy some shirts at cinders gallery.


it might freak the people i work with out if i show up all fashioned out like the above. but i guess that is their problem.

also, today i was doing some pretend shopping at bluefly.com. what was i doing when i wasn't speaking to anyone for a straight year? well, i was looking at clothing websites online and learning what "sass and bide" brand jeans were. this period of reflection and research came in handy once when i was working at beacon's closet: a rabbit-like woman held up a shirt that said "grail" on it and asked for a "2nd" which is the pretentious beacon's closet term for people not being able to have their own opinions about what clothes to buy in. i was able to say "that's grail. it's on bluefly." i learned about bluefly from megan colletta in high school college. it is good for buying stuff on if you need to like, go to a ball, even a pretentious ball

character traits people have:
self confidence

i hope this kitten does not try to take down a herd of hyenas.
perspicacity

uh to be continued, i forget the other character traits.

look, a puppy. hey puppy.

this is a better outfit for my blog to wear when it's hanging out with you guys. it looks cute now. i love you guys.

national schizophrenia in japan

my blog doesn't look good in firefox- it looks better in internet explorer. so i changed it. now it looks like something crazy. like a crazy daisy and bright blue bedroom set. not in IE though it probably looks like your worst nightmare.

i looked at my blog accquantaince trent (last name unknown (oh yeah i just remembered it))'s myspace page and he has a band called wax stag up there. i'm stealing this information for my own ends at the silly magazine.

have you guys ever heard this? i heard it in spoonbill and sugartown once. it is awesome as you can imagine.... tick tick tick

guess what my new job is? stalking people online to find fun stuff. everyone knows that i love to stalk andrew's coworkers- just because- and he told me they were all at "bumbershoot" so i went to the website and guess what i found, besides lots of other cool stuff: THE MOST FREAKING INSANE QUILTS!!

jew hub

i was having a good time experienceing all that upper manhattan has to offer in terms of jews. just the other night i was sitting in a stupid restaurant at 71st and columbus about to go to therapy when this total jew lady stereotype starting talking all this jew talk on the phone. jews are always saying inappropriate shit on the phone about money and health in public.

then i went out to dinner with my mom and dad, & my mom's cousins richard and danny and their wives (they live on the ues and in teaneck new jersey respectively) and they started talking about sylvia, richard and danny's mom, who lives on the uws and is totally old and fragile, about how crazy she is and how she demanded to go to this madison square garden concert because she wanted to experience the "whoop de doo", except she bought ONE ticket for herself, in a wheelchair, to go see NEIL DIAMOND, except really she went to see neil young. etc etc it was pretty weird. i hate my mom and dad because they act like rubes but whatever. my point is, if you want to see some jews in action, you should probably bring a friend because it is such a freaking stereotype and it's fun to laugh at.

my immediate family is barely jewish so i never knew what emily ogden was really referring to when she was making jun of jews, like i didn't realize it was real.

awesome non jew related article

i got a job

hey guess what everybody. finally after weeks of striving for having a job, i finally do have a job. hooray! now i get to:

i don't even have to buy a goddamn suit! whee!

anyway i meant to say, now i get to:

go shoppping at uniqlo and buy jumpers.

fyi, the magazine i work at is called "ins&outs magazine" (sic). it is so awesome, and this is why. in its first issue, they interview kids on the streets of long island about their style. then... they interview a dog/pretend to interview a dog... and it is so cute!!!

i hate blogging, so, the end.

queer as folk

have you guys ever seen "the 'bu"?

probably, but i wanted to make sure. it is like, so funny.

i'm kevin nealon, and that's news to me.

there's a funny part in season one of "weeds" in which mary louise parkers (hard name to remember) character calls kevin nealon's character an idiot, and kevin nealon corrects her and says that he is an idiot savant. i just ruined that part for everyone, sorry. anyway,

smoking pot is bad for you. here are the reasons why.
a) acting stupid
b) getting arrested
c) eventually getting cancer
d) being mistaken for someone who appreciates the "kitschy" appeal of "reefer madness"
e) mistaking yourself for a bad person
f) feeling awful and freaked out
g) wasting your money
h) wandering around in a drug haze
i) joe reeferhead

also, smoking cigarettes, for reasons c, d, and g.

also, drinking alcohol, for reasons g and h. except drinking one drink a day is good for your heart.

okay and i am editing this post after neil already commented on it.

i also wanted to Add that the band "the high strung" is pretty good. my mom's co-worker scott eury burned me some mix cd called "guided by hrabel" that contains all sort of music i would never have found the time to "check out" & listen to, such as the high strung, the arctic monkeys, clap your hands say yeah, oranger, the clientele, giant drag. ie, bands that dan chaon, listens to and possibly chelsea. also, i head, josh rosen. by the time i finally burned scott some cds, i learned that he was fired. i think all he did all day was burn cds.

my parents' tim buckley record

tim buckley
you could go worse than this album...

empoyment update

i would like to whole heartedly announce that i was fired from my job at beacon's closet! this comes as little surprise to me, just because i would never have imagined that a "hip" dirty, used clothing store would ever have any use for my energie-less presence, my diaper-like shorts, uh my too-small american apparel t-shirts, my lack of glamour. i was fired after only 3 days of working there, for quote "sitting around too much". this is strange- i have a feeling it was more because of the diaper shorts.

last night i went to a bar where there was a play being put on. i think the play was maybe too ambitious for the space it took place in. the play was kind of like "even dwarves started small" crossed with "..." what is that other werner herzog movie that takes place in a desert land?, croseed with "koyannisquatsi". then i introduced my roommate ken to the music of the skeletons. "these guys cook!"

i have a job interview open house to attend soon, i don't know why i felt i had to get this blog off before leaving the house, before putting on my outdated grey slacks and my weird, tuxedo-like, lesbianish button down interview shirt. it is also to be hoped that i hear back from earwax records today, and hear that yes, they will let me work there.

i like working at beacon's closet. it is better than working at gimme coffee would have been. i like saying to myself, "that shit is wack!" and then sometimes saying "that is wack!" out loud to my co-workers.
i can tell that this blog post is going nowhere, early on. this is a blog, it isn't really worth anything.
okay i am at a very very low energy level. i don't know if my housemate's realize how much coffee i drink. i guess now they do. it's like, four cups a day, guys.
am listening to peter blasser's "tofu alpha", an album whose track names i do not know.

not that album pictured above. a different album, one called "tofu alpha".
okay now i am listening to white magic. i don't get how people are "into" karen dalton, but if someday i do understand, maybe i'll look back on this blog entry, and smyle.
bleh bleh.

this is my pet peeve:
people using language: language is cool, but use it expresso. fast. use it fast. if you must practice using the most bestest word for something, most bestest gesture. i mean, please. let's be more low brow about this sometimes. shades of meaning are the most artificial. i understand pretty much what you are going to say. you are hungry, thirsty, etc

funny things i saw recently

1. a student driver train.
2. silly mta engineers
3. 3 people in my neighborhood carrying surfboards to the myrtle-willoughby G

s blog is fascinating.
thi. hello computer do what i tell you to.

hello.

the pony problem by barbara holland. jean wins a pony in a contest at the back of a lame magazine, the only part of the magazine she ever reads. it's an annual contest whereby the girl who sends in the best name, gets the pony sent to her. jean wins the pony. she lives in the suburbs and has to take care of it. her family doesn't have much money. her mom is a single mom (i recall that her dad is dead), and is the only woman on the subway platform in their particular neighborhood. jean is a misfit with hair that she accidentally dyed green and wears a fisherman's hat every day to cover it up. eventually jean rides the pony out to an abandoned farm where an eccentric old woman lives, and eventually though a series of delicate negotiations decides to board to pony for free if jean and her mother rent out the old servants quarters house.

prisoners at the kitchen table by barbara holland. a boy and a girl whose names i don't remember are friends. they are playing one day in the suburbs, when suddenly

ok this is to be continued. i'm moving today. i got a job today. here is where i'm going to be working. they sell slingshots here.



also tonight i think i'm going to an arthur magazine benefit. you guys are all invited! ran into that dude named tyler who is jess karch's roommie on the st today who claimed that "tonight is a good one". what did he mean? let's do some research.

http://www.arthurmag.com/magpie/?p=2134

destinos

learning spanish.

the first thing i want to learn to say in spanish is:
stop opening the goddamn fire hydrants, get a fucking rubber hose or something, or just pour tons of water on yourselves. this is some merry bullshit that raises your taxes exorbitantly.

or something to that effect. i wish that manu chao lived in my pockets. he speaks like, several languages. i do not speak a goddamn word of spanish.

today on youtube i noticed that someone i know has a serious anger problem that seems really horrible and depressing. whoops! and is COMPLETELY WEIRD. whom i like a lot in spite of this, maybe b/c of this, but AS IF my qualifications as a mental health professional, would stand up to personal-offense scrutiny (they would not). even though: this exists.

wow. what emotional ground this blog is totally breaking.

hmmm. but not even my qualifications as someone who speaks english could handle this.

but anyway- what is anger? i mean, what is it for? i get super angry a lot! i feel like anger comes out of a lack of discourse. sometimes anger itself is what makes the discrouse lacking. look how fucking stupid this blog is, etc.

i am going to do days of multiple blogs like raymi the minx because i guess i quite my job or something, after "making rent" (though probably i didn't because i buy so much [redacted] because of [redacted] and [redacted]. ha ha ha ha ha! [redacted]. last night night i had a dream that NATHALIE FRANQUES my francophile freshman year roommate was SUCKING OUT MY SOUL through sucking at my back like a succubus. omg it was HORRIBLE. dreams like that

i'm just kidding my life is super awesome! hee hee i listen to "crazy on you" by heart all day and look at stuff on friendster. i get drunk and open the door to delivery food like the don of well-established younger authors that i am. JUST KIDDING. ha ha ha h!

i'm sorry for touching your sensitive infected eye.

grace slick you are so refreshingly slutty

not sarcasm

i have been thinking about things recently, trying to put them in a new light, which is something i do compusively when i am upset about the way things are going. "it can't be THAT bad" i say to myself, searching in the innocent and sort of sad face of my 6'5" co-worker. i try to remember what i used to be like and compared that to what i'm like now, and i think i'm a lot better. i feel better, even with the insight i gained by learning how to take risks, into the risks everyone else does and doesn't take. taking risks- it's the kind of phrase you hear in self-help books. like that weird book steve wood read at my party, that a weird fat person gave to me. what's it called. that stupid fucking book that is probably one of the things that is defiling society's foundations with its corporate speak and so on.
Anyway it's good to know this now and have something to be mad at. But it turns out I am mad at almost everyone and it's hard to figure out what to say to people. I know that I used to be in this nightmare world, able to wildly misinterpret everything that happened around me, anything that was said to me, etc.
"how to make friends and influence people"- that is the book. this woman walked/waddled me to barnes and noble on my last day of work (2001), bought this for me, and then as we were walking back, we passed a haagen-daaz. she saw the sign and said, ooh haagen daaz and then bought one for herself.
but then this therapist gave me this self help book. if you google my name you will see my amazon book review of it and little else. "take more risks" it said. that was interesting, so i did. take more risks. what is a risk? what are YOU risking in the past present and future. it also didn't say, take well-thought-out risks etc. anyway.
how am i supposed to tell my co-workers and stranger to "take more risks"? this is really hard to deal with as a challenge. certainly more so between the sexes. "take more risks".
would i even been thinking about this, helping other people, if i were happy? if i were rivers cuomo, or if i was the president, would i even give half a shit about this? probably i would be doing a better job of actually being helpful to other people if i weren't obsessing over bad ideas like saying awkward things to me coworkers. THE END

bubonic chronic

dear diary,
i just ate a lot of pizza and feel gross!

today i am hanging out listening to some music and watching you tube videos. i hope i have friends and a television set by the time prison break comes back on. today i really wanted to watch "two and a half men".

i'm listening to the shirelles "baby it's you". this song for some reason in my itunes come on after "walking after midnight", my country music. it reminds me of stephen king. i hung out with my friend emilio and talked about stephen king this weekend. i'm thinking of adding "carrie" to my goodreads. this song reminds me more of "christine" though.

okay now gin and juice is on!

taking the train is the worst thing i do all day, which is saying a lot. there is "train rage". i got off the L at 1st avenue because i was so freaked out, and walked to union square. usually i go early but today i was talking to the employees of gimme coffee about their lives and my dreams and stuff. the walking is not because of the train rage- it's because of the more subtle ways people don't know how to stand correctly on the train and the stress injuries i'm going to get and the mental exhaustion. also the men who don't ride their bikes are all pussies anyway so there aren't even cute guys on the trains at all.

i wish i was snoop dogg's wife and all i did was hang out and make music videos. these teenagers on the train were laughing at something, maybe me sneering at this dude on the train. i need to sneer harder.

now rapper's delight is on! thanks for recommending wlid style at the video store steve. it was funny when amanda didn't like when you said "wild style" to me. or maybe that wasn't what happened because that just doesn't make sense? whatever.

today was not as bad. at work. i finally found the headphone jack on the computer (i know: i am a huge idiot for believing the girl who said there was no jack). so i listened to some internet radio. uh brian turner's show last week has a SILLY interview with PiL at the beginning.

okay now "insane in the brain" is on! i put that one on myself. thank you limewire.

spanning time

jesus F-ing christ

i never have to go deeper than the myspace pages of cultural icons sam and ben halterman to find relevant and worldy videos to post on this blog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipZR1EBKFoA

i am going to sleep at 830. thank you.

bongo bong

no one understands how important microsoft excel is where i work. personally, i fucking love microsoft excel. it is easy to use, it is utterly the most useful thing ever. when i worked for real companies, i used it all the time. when i was self-employed as osca tank workchart coordinator, i used it all the time. i would have been lost without it. but now, as a temp, i am disappointed by how i should be using it more, but am not allowed to take initiative to use it. what are these, the dark ages?



no, this is the information age. not the roman times or the dark ages. update: who does this remind you of (on the left). that's right, [sorry about google privacy issues] watching rome had always been a strange experience for me at home in chevy chase because my parents hadn't understood how silly it was that brutus was portrayed by this britishy-jewishy ie [privacy issues for everyone involved] look alike. they hadn't understood why i had been standing, snickering and snorting derisively with laughter at brutus, because they didn't have very refined senses of humour. really, the people in union square the subway station ALSO didn't understand why i was snickering loudly at the poster of brutus. on a related note, there is an [sorry] girl who works at a used boutique clothing store. she is like so high all the time. she is exactly like a crazy, high version of [sorry!]. on a related note, her awesome store is also called "the pirate store". it is on graham and like, ainslie or something. on a related note, the owner of gimme coffee looks exactly like steven, although he claimed to have NO idea what i was talking about. i have NO idea what YOU'RE talking about. what do you look like in your head i wonder?



fuck writing short stories. totally fuck it. this is my short story
"i looked at the trashcan. it was full of like, witch hazel cotton pads, cotton pads i had put witch hazel on to use as astringent. i was so thrifty. i was wearing jeans i had altered myself using the [redacted] method. i hated [redacted]."

thats a good idea, writing about hating people and then changing their names. it's not anyone who reads this blog, don't worry.

what's the DAR?

black eyed susans because i am from the suburbs, and it is august.


i stole this from raymi the minx's boyfriend fil's (hey greg nichols, "fil"!!!!!!!), pix. credit to you, mr.

cricket (cage) because i am from the suburbs, and it is august; but i only hear crickets in the like, city hall park on my way home from work, so i need to capture on and put it in a cage, and feed it grass, and take it to work with me, and get fired. neil kelley keeps crickets or something, or so he claims.

it is too hard to find a happy looking cricket in a cage though. i guess i plan on weaving the cage myself.

every morning i read in this graveyard. it is full of black eyed susans, a hardy daisy. when you go to work early, ie 7:30, you avoid throngs of fuck faces staring at you on the train, walking like neanderthals, criss crossing and zig zagging all over your emotions. this graveyard is at wall st. and broadway. it is between the american stock exchange and borders. famous men are buried there, men who commanded warships in the american revolution, warships named things like "hornet", against british warships named things like "peacock". their bones are actually there. it is interesting to think about the kinds of people these were. at lunch, i read harper's in borders. after work i walk to union square because i hate the train at 5:45. i stretch my flat-lands walking muscles. i eat dinner somewhere, or take it on the train. i get home, i turn on the air conditioner and eat and read. i fall asleep. i wake up. it's a strange life. i only have one pair of earrings. they are small dark green hearts made out of transluscent plastic over crumpled tin foil, posts.

mix for witches

i am making a mix for myself, maybe andrew, maybe you if you want in on it. . .

it is really just all mary timony, kind of, all the time.

mary timony: W.O.W.
marytimony: blood tree
helium: ooo
mary timony: in the grass
lou reed: street hassle
turbonegro: denim deamon
black sabbath

i!i! this is a picture of ALISON COOL. i am going to resize it because i am embarassed about it suddenly. see blog comments.
this picture is supposed to look witchy, but it doesn't against this yellow background. only against a white background does it look witchy.


this picture belongs to alison and all proprietary rights belong to alison/brenden harman.
editing:
about glamour is a silly name for a store, but it is because they don't totally speak english.
pop has good pants. there, i almost bought some dresses but thankfully am too poor. one of the dresses was frighteningly beautiful, and inexpensive, but reminded me too much of someone whose name i'm not going to say because i'll seem like a maniac for thinking of her. but it was funny to realize. if you guess the person, you get a mix cd of your choosing (theme of your choosing). and the sleeves didn't fit easily over my fat or muscular arms.

country music

i'm from the south, so i am going to start listening to country music. this is beacuse i'm trying to get an inroad into listening to a better, more universal music, the music quentin tarantino listens to. i was thinking about this last night, and because of it i had a dream in which cory arcangel was wearing a cowboy hat, and then gave me his cowboy hat. that is probably the funnest thing that has happened to me in a dream for a month. but anyway, what got me started on this was "fist city" by loretta lynn. also "mama tried" by merle haggard, and "witchita lineman" by glen campbell.

when i was little, my parents listened to ONLY the following albums:
deja vu
nick of time
eric clapton unplugged
blues and roots
ingenue
absolute torch and twang

reason i like country music:
THE VOCALS ARE BETTER / THE SWAGGER IS BIGGER / THE GUITARS ARE SLITHERIER



it used to freak out the annoying hippies i lived with in 'frisco when i played "these boots are made for walkin'" because they were stoned idiots. there would extrapolate meaning from me playing it. people are always extrapolating meaning from me, and back then i would start to believe them. i was in a dark living room and it was 2006. OH YEAH. there were tremendously annoying parakeets that i almost murdered. back then, i knew how to make cream of carrot soup really well, and can't remember the recipe. one of my housemates said he was from "ohio- the big island", but really he said "hawaii- the big island". he was rich, i think. he was one of those rich people who thinks you want to be friends with him only because he is rich. there was the newsie-like gay chick. there was the know it all alterna-chick. there was the actually really friendly guy who began sleeping with the classy art chick, as of the day before i came to live there. there was an axis of wackness formed by this other guy and his new girlfriend. there was the goofy girl from mit (it is easy to get into mit when you are a girl). i cultivated all these defense mechanisms to deal with them, my housemates, and soon those mechanisms came to be who i was. around this time is when i committed myspace suicide. my head was shaved. and i had accidentally bought a skin-head-looking sweater. i already owned skin-head looking jeans. it was FREEZING all the time. i had purchased marijuana from erin hurley's coworker and watched "walk the line", which has kind of ghastly erotic overtones.

anyway since then i have learned that it is a mistake to expect very much from movies/people, especially strange housemates. i think everything would have been fine if i had learned to sleep more during this venture. more sleep, more earplugs. more isolation and patience.
sorry i just want to take this time in my life, squeeze it into a ball, and throw it at you.

weird outfits

ok zig zag has a twitchy palsy and is sitting on my lap. he doesn't understand physics and is THE DUMBEST CAT. i'm wearing slimy sateen soccer shorts. zz cat has the WORST capability of being able to project his voice as far as a creature 20 TIMES HIS SIZE.
this---> is a VERRRRY funny lecture in which an artist that we all know explains a lot of things. link
CA: he went to my college, was a hacker and read everyone's emails in the computer lab. unfortunately, i did not talk to upperclassman until i was one so i cannot kick it with this dude's miraculous anti-drudgery art.
the reason i DIDN'T NOT go inside the MOMA was that my working life is so drudegerous and grey. i am a temp, and today i was dressed as my blog.
i'm not allowed to use the internet at work it's suprisingly weird that no one talks to me i think i don't like to subjugate myself to office politics enough to suck up to people and be the first to say hello. i ran into my bobsey twin emilo on the subway this evening after walking, in my weird outfit, all the way up to 14th street. he was wearing a liver heather and hot pink ringer t-shirt and mustard colored jeans.

i don't want to have a lame post about anagrams

neil kelley and i used to make news segments by searching reuters "news of the weird" and reading it over some sea and cake music. i'm going to make a news segment right now.
okay put on some sea and cake. or, some kind of groovy world lounge music.
LOL
it used to REALLY ANNOY DJS WHO TAKE "news" SERIOUSLY AND HAD TO BROADCAST OUR MP3S
but also we would read some VERY SERIOUS news as well- while giggling. we were idiots and didn't know how to use protools, although now in a snowstorm on acid i'd be able to use protools like *snap*. I HATE NEW YORK IT IS GAY HERE

i am a gawker

will making fun of people ever get old? i wish.

gawking video safari
is THIS your adolescence?

trading barbs: the 90s

book coming out
funny courtney love penned article, one
and two
all
this
shit
is
funny
to
me

i am half assedly trying to find barbs that were traded between steve malkmus and billy corgan.

okay here are some
underfoot
this sort of doesn't fit the criteria?

malkmus called the smashing pumpkins "the pumpkies."
these don't really give that much information about trading barbs in the 90s.