September 2010

Writing a eulogy.

Thanks to Hollywood, every facet of the grieving process is already fiercely clichéd, so on top of it all, you get to feel like a hack.

Thanks for the heads up.

Fitful sleep is a doubly cruel symptom of distress. It gives you so many extra chances to wake up and realize you’re not dreaming.

Amazing lightning tonight. Heaven is welcoming someone special.

Juggalo culture is unlikely to ever hold any appeal for me beyond morbid fascination, but damn if this lengthy interview didn’t make make me go, "You do your thing, Violent J. High five."

My first blog post in forever is turning into something more like a dissertation.

Aaaand monsoon season has hit NYC. I feel like I’m in a car wash.

Gobbling up concert tickets, nearly all of which are for reunion tours. Alternating between euphoria and self-loathing.

Treat your eyes to lostworldsfairs.com, courtesy of @jasonsantamaria, @fchimero, @TrentWalton, @weightshift, and @davatron5000.

Opening and closing paragraphs are gold.

Oof. @philebrity has unearthed a CDNOW corporate video from 2001, featuring four seconds of a zombified dot-com era me: youtube.com/watch?v=IXGlAef43…

Dismemberment Plan. Webster Hall, NYC. 2011/01/29. Tickets on sale Friday at noon. May God have mercy on your soul if you get in my way.

Writing for the first time in ages. Huge backlog of thoughts to record and collate. Feels good.

When I grow up, I want to be Keith Mars.

Is my singing getting worse or is my self awareness improving?

Forgot to share this before. The attention to detail here is astonishing, right down to replicating each character’s every costume change. It pretty much recreates the entire movie, attempts to fill plot holes, and provides hours of gameplay (thanks to numerous Easter eggs, achievements (medals), and other secret goodies), all while staying true to what makes The Room such a wonderfully inept phenomenon. Of course, that means it’s also essentially mundane and boring, but, perhaps… See more →

Suddenly smitten by the shape of the Anchor Steam bottle. I can’t stop looking at it. It’s wonderful. And yes, I’m sober. anchorbrewing.com/beers

Great Layer Tennis match today. Rare to see such a conceptually well-integrated abundance of text. It’s close, but I say #Weaver won. #lyt

It’s not fair. Getting packages is supposed to be fun. yfrog.com/naqcymj

Pleased as punch that Dio and The Smiths are coming to @RockBand next week. rockband.com/zine/singles-dio-hat…

Amidst all the Irish traditional tunes in Thin Lizzy’s “Róisín Dubh” arrangement, how did I only just now notice “Danny Boy”? Shameful.

Both sides of this whole Qur’an burning stunt are testaments to the childish idiocy of religious dogma. Keep walking backwards, kids.

Declaring that the verb form of tantrum is “to tant”. Tanting.

Of all the stuff I worked on at Harmonix, this is easily the thing I spent the most time on.

The next time I need to impersonate a teenager online, my username will be “c0rnb4113r”. That is all.

As expected, seeing Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter was worth every penny of that overpriced Sunn/Boris ticket.

Designer’s block leads me to edit iTunes metadata which leads me to discover that the early Buzzcocks singles were very nicely designed.

On about 25% of my visits to Wikipedia, I absent-mindedly search for “Wikipedia”.

All alone at @studio612a. Kidnappers, now is your chance.

“Based on true events.” I remember those events, when there was a guy, and he had hair.

Photo: You will be mine. — at Mugshots Coffeehouse & Café gowal.la/c/2rHRT?139

“The purpose of school is to prepare our kids for the real world, and in the real world, people don’t give a shit.” onion.com/dtQ7YB

Yes, it’s Brooklyn, but that doesn’t make spinning New Order in a BBQ joint any less wrong.

O_O

Posterity is intimidating.

Though I know she’s a natural blonde, I like to think Christina Hendricks is Charlie Brown’s Little Red-Haired Girl all grown up.

Remember in Ghost World when the guy wants to rent Fellini’s 8½ and the video store clerk offers him 9½ Weeks? Yeah, that’s Ping.

So my iTunes database has 9+ years of data about my listening preferences, and Ping suggests Taylor Swift, DMB, Linkin Park? Really?

Snap judgement: Ping is a fucking joke. “A social network for music”? No. “A social network for people who shop at the iTunes Store”.

Thankfully, my new text message buddy informed me that my purple golf shirt is gay before I informed them they had the wrong number.

Okay, I want one.

There’s some pretty entertaining analysis in here.