My friend's record is finally finished...
and still very much worth listening to...
www.dustinedge.com
Pre-Order now... only two more weeks...

Labels: music

"The reason the world's so fucked up is that we're undergoing evolution. And the reason our institutions - our traditional religions - are all crumbling is because they're no longer relevant. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

-Bill Hicks

indeed.

Labels: Religion

That song "Monday" by Wilco just came on my iTunes... every time that happens, I just want to skip it and go listen to Jay singing with Uncle Tupelo instead.

(N.W.O. from Psalm 69 was next... strange back-to-back songs. Now I want to listen to Just One Fix.)

Labels: music

"I think we are all well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were."
-Joan Didion "On Keeping a Notebook"

I'd like to say I've had this idea in my head and that it's been trying to get out or some other artsy bullshit. The truth, however, is just that I tried really hard to make myself try to think/feel of something so that I could try to do this. I imagine myself making the same face that I make when I'm trying to take a shit and the shit is just a little too big for my asshole, so it kind of hurts but feels really good... and, when you're done, you're still just left with a piece of shit in a bowl. At the moment, this piece is still kind of dangling... half in the water and just waiting to fall. I have to be really careful when taking these auditory dumps b/c the lady who lives next to me has super hearing and bangs on the wall every time she hears the splash. hmmm... redeeming qualities of this post... there's got to be something.... oh! That's a Modest Mouse poster over top of the computer. I feel bad for subjecting it to such torture... There's a Pearl Jam concert poster on the other wall tho, so I'm not being biased as to which bands get tortured. That issue of Time or whatever it was with Eddie on the cover when he got all pissed off is hanging in that room too. I'm such a fucking dweeb.

The floating log in the bowl

The Creative Process going horribly horribly wrong...

Labels: filboyd studge, music

I got around to playing Charlotte's Web.
After I had to come into work on Saturday.
But, damn, it was a nice day. And I played it alone.
And I found a nice pair of sunglasses... tried to return them to the guys in front of me, but the glasses didn't belong to them.
But I learned some stuff.

- Playing with light orange discs whose color is that of the leaves on the ground sucks. And is kind of stupid.
- Sparks beer/energy drink things are TERRIBLE.
- Especially the ones with extra alcohol.
- But you can get very mildly buzzed if you have two in less than an hour.
- The wind might feel good, but it is not your friend.
- +11 actually isn't actually that awful. (the group in front of me were all hovering around that score as well)

That's all. I already knew everything else.

Oh. And, after about 4 hours dealing with travelocity's crashing website and their (extremely extremely nice and patient, yet) not very helpful customer service, I managed to book my flight to Hawaii. Somehow the final price managed to go up $40 during the time spent dealing with their technical bullshit. And my return flight is almost 3 hours later than I wanted.

But I can't REALLY complain. So I spend an extra $13/hour to stay in Hawaii a little longer. There are worse things.

Oh #2. This Friday there's a Nirvana cover band opening for a Pearl Jam cover band down the street from my house. Hilarious. I'm so there.

Labels: Disc Golf, music, Pearl Jam

Alan Moore on the Simpsons?
In an episode about comic book store wars??
Wow.

http://www.comicbookresources.com/news/newsitem.cgi?id=8865

In a story published this week in Britain's NorthantsNews, comics writing legend Alan Moore announced a forthcoming appearance by him in a future episode of the top-rated American animated sit-com, "The Simpsons." Known to be long-time comics fans, and lovers of Moore's work in particular, "The Simpsons" producers first approached Moore's fiancé, Melinda Gebbie, while she was in America to promote their "Lost Girls" project."

"She said: 'Why don't you give him a ring, he's very approachable,'" Alan Moore explained. "I was happy to do it. I'm a big fan of 'The Simpsons.'"

Though it is presently unknown when the episode will air, Moore has already recorded his lines at Lodge Studios in Abington Square, Northhampton. Moore features in a sub-plot involving a newer and "cooler" comic store opening in Springfield, one so cool that it manages to get the "Watchmen" writer to make a rare personal appearence in the shop, threatening directly the dominance of the Android's Dungeon, the local comic store managed by the infamous Comic Book Guy.

Labels: Comic Books

Rumsfeld is gone!! What a fucking piece of shit he was... wow... YES!

Labels: george bush

I stole this from here:

his was much cooler than mine, but I liked the idea, so here we go...

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...

(I used Shuffle instead of Party Shuffle, cuz the Party thing takes the fun out of it)

Opening Credits
Walking to Do - Ted Leo and the Pharmacists

Waking Up
Wasting Time - Kid Rock (good lord... I'm a pimp; you can check my stats...)

First Day At School
The Walk (Everything Mix) - The Cure

Falling In Love
NYC - Interpol

Fight Song
Sweet Emotion - Aerosmith (really? I have that on my computer? At least it's old school I suppose)

Breaking Up
E.I. - Nelly (this is going so badly...)

Prom
Marmalade Maggie - The Merediths (that works)

Life Is Good
(New Wave) Polly - Nirvana (cool!)

Mental Breakdown
Die Eier Von Satan - Tool

Driving
To All the Girls - Beastie Boys

Flashback
Heart In A Cage - The Strokes

Getting Back Together
The People of the Secret - The Helio Sequence

Wedding
Private Hell (Live) - Misery Loves Company (wow. :))

Paying The Dues
Oh! Darling - The Beatles

The Night Before The War
I Think I Smell a Rat - The White Stripes

Final Battle
Cool Scene - The Dandy Warhols

Moment of Triumph
Gring - Alice in Chains

Death Scene
Hotwax - Beck

Funeral Song
Androgynous Mind - Sonic Youth

End Credits
Very Ape - Nirvana

Two Nirvana and no Pearl Jam? hmmmm...
all-in-all, not terrible... could have been better, could have been worse. Who would have thought that Misery Loves Company would 1) still be on my computer and 2) have the most perfect fit of any of the other songs?

Labels: music

6:30 AM -> Wake Up
6:30 - 7:30AM -> Dick Around Long Enough to Actually Wake Up; Make Coffee; Leave for Renaissance Gold.

	Renaissance Park. Gold. Perhaps the most difficult course in the Charlotte area. And we chose to play it in 32 degree weather at 7:30 AM. On Saturday. So it goes. It was cold. Bryan doesn't usually get cold. Maybe this proves that it was cold. It was, in fact, cold enough to attempt to throw while wearing gloves... as you can tell from my demonstration of how to make sure your glove and disc match up prior to the throw...
Unfortunately, the gloves were a bad idea... this is what happens when you play disc golf with gloves on...
	One thing about freeze-your-balls-off-early-as-hell disc golf is that it seems to make you kind of stupid. If you will, please, note the amount of stuff in Bryan's left hand. I'm pretty damned sure this is only hole 2 and we're already suffering... I'm also pretty damned sure this shot didn't go in.
	Of course then, I, being the intelligent young man that I am... take no heed of the lesson taught by Mr. Woody. Instead I go ahead and putt while hanging onto an open laptop bag in the other hand. In my defense, there was not yet a bottle of wine in this bag to weigh me down. Also in my defense, I made it. ->-> (What a cool fucking picture tho, huh? I dunno how Bryan managed to time that right to get the chains in mid-motion...)
The sad part is that, although I made that putt, it was my SEVENTH shot on hole number seven. (I know it says eight on the thing... trust me.) And Bryan got a 5. Seemed to me that the first hole of the day where Bryan get the box deserves some sort of celebration.
On hole 9, I think I had my best drive ever. This is it.
Just under two hours later, Renaissance is behind us with some of the worst scores in a long long time. Positive 29? Not cool. But regardless. We made it. And Hornet's Nest was waiting... zipped up I-77 and arrived rejuevenated and ready to roll. (Please note the super-fly Amsterdam shirt that Bryan's sporting) Oh. And we stopped at the Food Lion. A bottle of wine for me, and a six-pack of extra alcohol Spark beers for Bryan... I think 2 managed to survive the trip...
Once it became warmer, it seemed like one of our goals quickly became getting a photo with the disc just released... There are many of these to come. This was, I believe, the first.	A study in the comparisson of throwing styles on Hornet's Nest #12. We didn't even play the Web layout. Because we suck. I've NEVER played the entire Web layout properly. Dammit.
This is what I was talking about. I think these are holes numbered 14, 15, and 16 in a row. Bryan was determined to get that post-throw shot. It actually worked out quite well, I think. And wtf. Why do I always put my back knee on the ground when throwing forehand?
	On the left, Bryan's second shot on 16... on the right, Bryan's drive on 17. I mostly thought the trees and stuff were really pretty on this one...
And lastly, my second shot on #18... It was a great drive and sucked to be back in the woods. Somehow my fruity little throw got me up to the hole and in for Par. (Bryan had a shit drive, but an amazing 2nd shot and putt to sink Par as well.)
And that was about that at Hornet's. More not-so-great scores, but I suppose it could have been worse. Next up: Sugaw. All par 3's, and a pretty easy course. Half a bottle of wine and a pair of Sparks should help matters... maybe... Here's a couple of Bryan showing me how to drive... What form!
	Now I'm showing him how to drive. Backhand. I SUCK at backhands. (apparently, I also suck at thinking... I just realized that I had the wrong picture here... now it's correct.)
	Now for putting... Bryan thinks it works if you throw it at your opponent. Me, on the other hand... I know that a slam dunk is a very high percentage shot. (Thank you, NBA2k)
And lastly, in case you forgot, I like to put my right knee on the ground for some reason... It looks like this was probably a terrible shot. Why the hell am I throwing it so far up in the air???
	Sugaw was... decent. At least it wasn't another 29 over. I think I can beat this course... this was only the 2nd (perhaps 3rd) time I've tried it tho. Next time, it's mine. With most of the alcohol gone, however, Reedy Creek became somewhat of a playground. And I decided that it was now warm enough to wear flipflops. Idiot.
Luckily for you, the battery in the camera was dying... So we're left with Bryan fighting his way out of the woods and me... looking like I'm trying to take a shit while throwing the frisbee. I hope that was a good shot, but it definitely looks like it's 300 feet in the air again. Ridiculous.
I can't even really remember how things went down on Reedy... luckily there's a scorecard below. Unluckily, I'm trying to hurry, so I'm not going to go look at it yet and, instead, leave this randomness in place of anything pseudo real. Kilbourne... God, I love Kilbourne... Newly reopened and still lacking a couple of tee-pads, it feels great to play this course again. The posted scores on the course, however, are much different from those on the website. (which I used for the scorecards.) Last time we played, I was 7 under and Bryan was 2 under. Using the posted scores. Using these scorecards was a little frustrating. But I got this really pretty picture (albeit blurry) of Bryan on the non-existant teepad for number ten. And then, mostly to take up space. There's this. I feel like one of us - probably me... naturally - made this putt. Hence the photo.
	Although I managed to screw up the order of the courses... and we didn't get to play Veteran's due to a prior engagement (i.e. block party on Dorothy and Diana with free beer and food...mmmmm...) AND despite the fact that these scores are embarrassing... Here. Right here. Are the scores.

Labels: bryan, Disc Golf

this is fantastic. :)

Fla. Governor Hopeful Skips Bush Event Florida GOP gubernatorial candidate decides to skip planned appearance with President Bush

Labels: george bush

The plan for tomorrow

Labels: Disc Golf

From Greg Palast again... I want to believe the last sentence of this is true. I don't really want the world to be divided into "good" and "evil." I'd really like to believe that the person who did this really believed he was driven to it. I don't want our soldiers to get shot... I don't want anybody to get shot. I just desperately still want to believe that there are two viable sides to this farce of a war that our farce of a President started. Why? Maybe just because I want to be right. I want george bush to be more of a failure than he already is.

I *know* that's horrible.

Let me rephrase.

I don't want "him" to fail. I want his policies to fail because they suck. There was a time when he would say something, and it would be going well, and I was able to hope, "God, please let him say something... anything... that I can actually agree with and support." That time is Looooong gone. Now I just feel like I've been fed enough bullshit and let down enough times already. I'm starting on a tangent again. I want him to fail because I just can't believe that there's a significant section of humanity who is just "evil" and "wrong" because he says so. There just HAS to be another side to the story, and we don't get enough of it. I'm sure there are crazy psycho whack job mother fuckers who just like to blow up Americans because it's cool. Then there are the crazy psycho whack job mother fuckers who like to blow up Americans for real valid political and social reasons... which doesn't mean I support their methods, but I do think they have addressable grievances against the United States. Then, lastly, is the group that we don't here about enough. The people just trying to protect their homes. The people that have been pushed too far to just roll over and get trampled upon. Of course, the story below is conjecture. That sniper could have just have easily been thinking, "AllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsAllahVirginsWOOOOO!" when he pulled the trigger.

So I hope not. I hope that that segment of real rational people who just want to live their lives is real. The people who just can't take it anymore. I also hope that particular population is dwindling. Not because we're shooting them but because things are getting better. But somehow I doubt it. I hope these people exist b/c, if they don't, george bush is right and there are just large numbers of people out there who irrationally want to blow up Americans. He just can't be right though. He's a big fucking twat. I WANT TO HURT SOMEBODY by Greg Palast Thursday, November 2, 2006 for The Guardian (London) It was pure war-nography. The front page of the New York Times today splashed a four-column-wide close-up of a blood-covered bullet in the blood-soaked hands of an army medic who'd retrieved it from the brain of Lance Cpl. Colin Smith. There was a 40 column-inch profile of the medic. There were photos of the platoon, guns over shoulders, praying for the fallen buddy. The Times is careful not to ruin the heroic mood, so there is no photograph of pieces of corporal Smith's shattered head. Instead, there's an old, smiling photo of the wounded soldier. The reporter, undoubtedly wearing the Kevlar armor of the troop in which he's "embedded," quotes at length the thoughts of the military medic: "I would like to say that I am a good man. But seeing this now, what happened to Smith, I want to hurt people. You know what I mean?" The reporter does not bother -- or dare -- to record a single word from any Iraqi in the town of Karma where Smith's platoon was, "performing a hard hit on a house." I don't know what a "hard hit" is. But I don't think I'd want one "performed" on my home. Maybe Iraqis feel the way I do. We won't know. The only Iraqi noted by the reporter was, "a woman [who] walked calmly between the sniper and the marines." The Times reporter informs us that Lance Cpl. Smith, "said a prayer today," before he charged into the village. We're told that Smith had, "the cutest little blond girlfriend" and "his dad was his hero." Did the calm woman also say her prayers today? Is her dad her hero, too? We don't know. No one asks. The reporter and his photographer did visit a home in the neighborhood -- but only after the "hit" force kicked in the door. I suppose that's an improvement over the typical level of reporting we get. In dispatches home by the few US journalists who brave beyond the Green Zone, Iraqis are little more than dark shapes glimpsed through the slots of a speeding Humvee. Last month there was a big hoo-ha over the statistical accuracy of a Johns Hopkins University study estimating that 655,000 Iraqis have died as a result of this war. I doubt the Iraqi who fired that bullet into Lance Cpl. Smith read the Hopkins study. Iraqis don't need a professor of statistics to tell them what happens in a "hard hit" on a house. Of civilians killed by the US forces the Hopkins team found 46% are younger than fifteen years old. I grieve for Lance Cpl. Smith and I can't know for certain what moved the sniper to pick up a gun and shoot him. However, I've no doubt that, like the Marines who said prayers before they invaded the homes of the terrified residents of Karma, the sniper also said a prayer before he loaded the 7.62mm shell into his carbine. And if we asked, I'm sure the sniper would tell us, "I am a good man, but seeing what happened, I want to hurt people."

Labels: george bush

this was published in the New York Times the other day... hopefully this link won't die... http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/31/opinion/31gaiman.html?ex=1319950800&en=936cc44f65110fa8&ei=5090&partner=rssuserland&emc=rss

There were days that changed everything: birthdays and New Years and First Days of School, days that showed us that there was an order to all things, and the creatures of the night and the imagination understood this, just as we did. All Hallows’ Eve was their party, the night all their birthdays came at once. They had license — all the boundaries set between the living and the dead were breached — and there were witches, too, I decided, for I had never managed to be scared of ghosts, but witches, I knew, waited in the shadows, and they ate small boys.

Even if you don't like comics, this still might be pretty funny... it takes forever to get a new comic, but there are plenty to look at right now...
Fanboy Prime

(I don't know this kid... just find these things funny.)

Labels: Comic Books