republitards

SUCK IT.

enjoy your forced retirement Rummy. Hell awaits.

bye bye fuckers.

beat // pointless // tired

I don't post much anymore. it's because I don't write anymore. it's because I'm too wiped from writing and running and working all day. it drains me and kills off my desire to play with words any longer than I do all day anyways.

The job that I got in July is excellent. It's easily the best job I've ever had and it suits my style and my interests. In about three months I've completed two large scale projects that I'm proud of. I'm doing pretty much exactly what I've wanted to do since around 1996.

But, I'm beat.

beck // the information

1. elevator music
2. i think i'm in love
3. cell phone's dead
4. strange apparition
5. soldier jane
6. nausea
7. new round
8. dark star
9. we dance alone
10. no complaints
11. 1000 BPM
12. motorcade
13. the information
14. movie theme
15. horrible fanfare landslide exoskeleton

link

a very very weird june 23rd

I'd been waiting for two weeks for a phone call from my new job's HR woman to tell me that I'd been signed off on the budget for my salary, and that I was officially hired on. I had to wait for that OK in order to issue my two week notice at my terrible current job of three years.

I work for a horrible anal prick of a micromanager named Steve. Steve is one of those people that may not intend to come off as an asshole, but does so naturally. You'll listen to him say something to you work related, or even offer up a personal opinion about a matter and you'll think to yourself "this guy is kind of an asshole." A year of day in, day out with this guy and you definitely think "this guy is a total asshole."

Steve was hired on a year ago to head a staff of three full-time writers, and one part-timer. Within a year, Nancy, a five year writer with over 20 years writing experience was the first to go (her parting advice to me was "don't let him make you think that you're not a good writer"), followed by Lauren, who had graduated from journalism school two years ago (and suddenly doesn't want to write anymore?) and now me. The part-timer, Leslie, got a book deal and is holding on to the job for the salary and insurance. Even she told me about two weeks ago that she had called a meeting with Steve to tell him that she wasn't jiving with his micromanagement style and that she thought that communication in the department was "next to zero."

Good work Steve!!

So, Steve asks me if I want to go to lunch. I automatically question "the fuck is this all about?" and say "yes." we go to the Billy Goat and Steve (in cool guy mode) spends six bucks on my lunch. I listen to him talk about himself for 45 minutes.

We go back to work and I get the call officially offering me the job. So, I asked Steve if he could speak with me in the conference room, and 20 minutes after he bought me lunch I quit on him... leaving him with just the part time writer (who's taking a lot of time off right now to go on her book tour).

Steve spent most of the time complaining that he didn't think that he'd still be there in a year, but with a new adopted son, a new house, a condo that hasn't sold yet and a home equity line, he didn't think that he could afford to go anywhere for awhile. That's bad. Worse than that: everybody at work knows that all of the writers have quit working under Steve. It's all up to Steve now.

Good work Steve!!

On my bike ride home I pedaled up to the intersection of Kedzie and Eastwood. Traffic was backed up due to the Brown line train passing at the Kedzie stop (it's ground level), so I biked slowly through the stopped traffic and saw nothing coming in the other direction. A second later I was nailed by a car speeding up to 20 mph and was thrown onto the hood, against the windshield and then down to the pavement.

I heard screams. I got up and looked over my body for cuts, blood or pain. other than a very minor scrape on my forearm below my right elbow, I was clean. I looked at the car and saw two 26 year old female Chicago Police officers getting out of their car to see if I was OK.

I WAS HIT BY A POLICE CAR!!

I said "I can't believe that I was hit by a police car." I looked at my bike and saw a contorted, fucked up front wheel. The cops said "are you OK? we've got to go and respond to a call." I said "you just hit me with your car and fucked up my bike, call some other cops."

Within in 3 minutes, a squad car with two 30-something male cops pulled up and shook their heads in disgust at the incident. something tells me that my two female cops are going to pulling traffic duty and other shit work on top of taking woman driver jokes and hassling for the next month or two.

I took a statement, which everyone was cool with, and then I took a disposable camera from my bag and took pictures of the bike and the spot that the squad that hit me was parked: alongside the curb... they weren't even in the lane of traffic. That's one of the problems with cops in this city--and I'd imagine everywhere--they're above the law, so they don't bother to follow standard rules of the road. That's why you see them driving on sidewalks, gunning down alleyways, and driving like steve wonder behind the wheel (ray charles riding shotgun).

I was released with the police report... which I'm following up on. I'm not hurt, so I'm not looking to sue anybody. I took my bike to the store I bought it at to fix it back up. they asked me if the cops even bothered to stop... apparently they sometimes don't (isn't that called "hit and run"?). All said and done... new wheel, and the fork is slightly bent... so new fork, plus labor: $240. which I'll now push to get the Chicago Police to pay for. I think that $240 is probably a small amount to pay considering they get sued for shit way sketchier than this incident.

moral of the story: cops, cabbies, grandpa and the blind can't drive.

oh yeah, and I can't be killed. I'm unbreakable.

pearl jam // chicago // 5-17-06

I saw pearl jam for the 7th time on May 17th. I got fan club tickets (I'm 32 years old and a member of a rock band fan club) and took Intense Rick. We had great seats... 4th row, section 122... basically eye level with the band.

The dude next to me was a super fan. He asked me what my fan club number was. I said "I have no idea." There was an awkward pause while we both tried to come up with something else to say. Later he somehow bought 8 beers with $15 and gave me one. Even later his friend had to drag his drunk ass the the men's room because he was so fucked up.

Most people I know rip on pearl jam. They always tell me that they suck and that Eddie Vedder annoys them. I can kind of see it, but I think that pearl jam's fans are way more annoying, and I've consistantly dug their music. I could give a fuck if it doesn't sell. Everytime I've seen them live or listened to a live show or watched a live DVD, I'm reminded why I like them: because they are a solid rock band that writes solid rock songs.

AND I'm pleased that the new album is good. It justifies why I still pay attention... and it justifies why the band can still sell out the United Center and isn't stuck playing a free show at the lame ass Cubby Bear bar, like Soul Asylum has to

Coming Soon...
Friday June 30th
93XRT / Careerbuilder pres.
Free Concert with
Soul Asylum

LAME!

Instead, you get an outstanding rock show like this one:
pearl jam // chicago // 5-17-06

Malaysian "Pearl Jam" review

Broken engrish is funny.

Read this review by IZZY SHAH:

PEARL JAM have stopped bothering to promote their records for a long time now, so why then is the new self-titled eighth album by Seattle’s grunge uncles their highest charter in years?

What’s for sure is that it’s a significant lowering of fences on the band’s part, with singles, videos, magazine cover interviews and photo ops being granted in what seems like an eternity (it’s been 12 years since all of the above happened ... an ice age in music industry time).

Some major music rags are even saying it’s their best in 10 years. I’m not sure about that, but this new Pearl Jam does sound spunkier, younger and more purposeful. The graceful transition to its current affirmative-action-rock phase sees the band rediscover the fire that once set it apart.

Short punk-like bursts and two-minute rock blasts are Vedder’s modus operandi this time. He emphatically spews out raging keynote addresses on class hierarchy, race and the minority welfare struggle (Unemployable), corruption and surveillance paranoia (Inside Job) and US soldier-drafting policy (Army Reserve). The blond-streaked singer even manages a moment of tribute to his favourite pastime, whistling the wonders of surfing as meditation (Big Wave).

And these three-minute songs are short for a reason ... cutting in sharply, making their point and moving on, rather than chewing forever on hollow hooks and compromised radio-friendliness.

Elsewhere, songwriting contributions by the band’s two guitarists are both weird and wistful ... from McCready’s piquant Marker in the Sand to Gossard’s contemplative campfire tune Wasted Reprise.

Vedder, still an alpha after two decades of betas, imitators and washouts, sounds as true as ever, barking leftist sentiments like a hungry wolverine throughout Pearl Jam. With Vedder, a hardened liberal, it’s not so much checking and balancing as it is an all-out aural war on the Bush administration, as the snarling guitars of Life Wasted attest.

Dense, always grasping at truth, and bordering on anarchy, Pearl Jam’s current repertoire should have been the score for the recent V for Vendetta.

But what this album (like all others before it) showcases most is that they are a band of songwriters, their own little democracy.

Even at its most adventurous (as on mid-1990s releases Vitalogy and No Code) Pearl Jam’s AOR has always been commoner fare in the feudal hierarchy of listener appreciation, but if there is anything to be admired about this angriest of outings, it’s the sheer lionhearted, warrior-like will that they’ve always had in abundance.

"Seattle’s grunge uncles"... "Short punk-like bursts and two-minute rock blasts are Vedder’s modus operandi this time"... "Vedder, still an alpha after two decades of betas, imitators and washouts, sounds as true as ever, barking leftist sentiments like a hungry wolverine throughout Pearl Jam." (my favorite).

I wish I could write this good... and engrish is my native tongue.

stupid shit said in an office

"Wanna “circle the wagons right now??"

"…well… the earth’s crust is still cooling on that… you know?"

"That’s not really my ‘bailiwick’"

"put that in your pipe and smoke it when you need it."

"noodle it up"

"hump it up"

"Kersplooshie"

"One man gathers what another man spills"

"I'll smoke it up a little bit on our side"

"We’ll throw some butter his way…"

"That’s got some rhythm to it!" (In reference to a good idea.)

"So can you ‘bird-dog’ it??" (A.k.a. Can you check that out?)

"This presentation needs to be buttoned up…."

"This is no dog and pony show”"

"The last kick of the cat will be when we get the 'T.I.F's......"

"The satellites are still spinning on that one…."

"That’s back when sheep were sheep."

"What you need now is someone good looking, like me, to go in there and really sell 'em."

"We’re trying not to grow moss over here…"

"Well, we can’t be pigs, but if we just nibble on the edge a little…"

"I just thought I’d make a call and get ‘hand grenades and horseshoes’…"

"I'll take voicemail for $200" [in response to a secretary]

"I had to get clearance from the tower" [permission from wife]

[Email from me to Kari] I was talking to this one girl on the phone yesterday that was a building rep that was going to show us some space and she sounded cute on the phone.

So I just asked Eric if she has in fact cute. He said, "Ahhhh naaaa, well…. she had hoo-hoo's ‘out to here’, but she had no "willow" to her." I straight faced said, "I have no idea what you mean... "willow"?!?" Eric reply's "Yeah, me neither. But you know (then he started waving his arms around like a willow tree in a strong breeze) and says, "you know.... I like the long skinny types."

"Let’s give Morgan a call and see if he can look through the tea leaves."

"Ohhhhh… I see. So that’s a top secret squirrel?"

"Just put in a call over there and see if you can nibble your way up the food chain."

"Alright, let’s do some cowboy math here…"

"See if you can run the gauntlet here for us…"

"That’s just something to keep up there in the gray matter up there…"