Monday, January 31, 2005

Citations

You know, I wish I could quote song lyrics on here without feeling like a total tool. Fortunately, I can't, so I would point out to all of you that Train of Thought is a fantastic album and I didn't even know I identified with some of the lyrics from "Endless Sacrifice." I guess trying to play through most of the album will do that realization trip.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Rather than one waste of time...

another. Kevin Rose (fern-like character from G4's screen savers crapfestival) decided to buy a mac mini and turn it into a PC for some reason, much to the ire of half of slashdot's community and the the joy of the other half. Well, I say joy, I think they just touch themselves because they get to call shenanigans on the first half, but I digress... it is still the internet, after all.

Anyway, colossal waste of time because he had to use a prototype motherboard that didn't have wireless networking, bluetooth, or even a lowly CD drive, and the piece of garbage will melt down because he had to hack away part of the heat sink and put the hard drive on top of said hacked part when finished.

Blah blah, I know.

Short story long, I found this mac-based hack to be much more entertaining and "because I can" worthy.

Saturday, January 29, 2005

and second

I made a self portrait one time, and I decided to put it where it's visible.



self portrait
Character Creator

first up

Song i just finished.

Okay so it's just music... I really need to get a trap set to have around or something, cause the loop drum samples are marginal at best. Anyway, there it is, you can listen to it or not. I'm going to try to keep it up, that's for sure.

HURF DURF HURF DURF

I removed this post in November of 2007 because I'm tired of being a search result for "how to [cease artificially tinting] hair" because of something I wrote many years ago.

It's nights like this...

... that make me realize just how much trouble I have balancing introversion and sloth with my desire to go somewhere and do something. Every now and then, I get this urge to make with the sociability, but I fear doing so will lead me to a deeper disdain for all things college student.

It's not that I don't want to or can't meet new people; that I seem to be good at.

What I fear is introducing myself to kids who, for all intents and purposes, don't deserve to talk to me. Kids who I explain my life's story to and all they have to say is "Wow, who's from Oregon? Utah? Wow!" after which they turn the interest back down to warm and put the lid on. Hell, the last person I introduced myself to thinks I play the "base."

All the people I want to associate with, either I don't or I do. That is to say... I know a bunch of people. Most of them I want to associate with. Those people then fall into two groups: I don't talk to them because _____, or I do talk to them. Fine, you know... but outside that, my general distrust of everyone takes over.

I wish there were some way for me to get over myself and just do things my brain tells me not to.

Sigh. Well, whatever works, I guess. If I had gone out tonight, I wouldn't be going over to my 'studio' after this to finish my first composed work.

Not that composing will happen right away... I still have some other things to get cracking on.

I just don't get it:

I get a ticket for having a valid temp tag that, apparently, anyway, I can't actually use to operate my car, even though I paid for it. Meanwhile, we see what is quite clearly a stolen or otherwise illegitimate plate at best buy. No further explanation follows, just the picture of my story.

The MVA can go to hell.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

HAHAHA

I bought the fortress. Pictures will come when they come, but here's what it sounds like. I don't know why I decided to record myself playing most of "Brown Eyed Girl" but I did and you'll deal with it!

The rundown? I went to Glen Burnie's Guitar Center to see if they had Rockbass by Warwick there. This wasn't the case, so I drove to Towson and told the guitar person, in no uncertain terms, that I was too short to try the guitar I wanted. He left me alone for a while and I decided that I much preferred the sound of the fortress to the corvette classic. There's just more mass to it, you know? Anyway, took it to the desk and asked him if he had any sunburst in stock. He said no, that the honey one was the only one they had. But... haha! if I could live with the color, he informed me, I would receive the bass at a "stupid" price. $599 regularly, on "clearance" for $499 with gig bag. Yeah! As I just discovered, it also came with polish (that I can't use), a trussrod tool, adjusting tools, and the thickest guitar manual I've ever seen in my life.

Needless to say, I'm happy.

Monday, January 24, 2005

Who are the Ad Wizards that came up with That One?

Jeff and I had a discussion about McDonald's advertising over the years right after I installed my new headlight in a slicked up parking lot outside an Advance Auto Parts.

We agreed that it was particularly foul of them to advertise their food as "Now with 100% White Meat" as this was a thinly veiled statement that McDonalds was, in fact, cooking "Now with 100% Actual Food." After some jokes about A Modest Proposal and possibly Soylent Green (which may or may not be the same actual story), I decided that chicken McNuggets used to be made out of an animal whose picture my dad sent me.

Every moment it's alive is sheer agony. Probably better off for it that it was being made into Florida-shaped chicken-fat-injected pucks of pressed, processed, poultry-substitute byproduct.

Yeah, you never thought of that, did you? The horrid quality of McDonald's chicken McNuggets was really a front for an operation to extend humane treatment to the suffering, malformed, and disadvantaged creatures of the extreme deep sea. For shame, corporate America! You sold yourselves out to the tune of one hundred billion "calls for accountability and truth in food labeling" and now the poor cancerous blob fish is doomed to spend the rest of its I'm-sure-unnaturally-short life in excruciatingly horrific pain.

I weep.

Hey there's another thing

I really, really wish people would stop firing off complaints about the Mac Mini and its shipping configuration.

In this world, we have two choices. Black and white. You buy something, or you don't. You don't get on the internet and whine for decades about how 32 megabytes of video ram aren't enough for whatever game you want to play. Buy a different computer. I don't want your retarded ass sharing my platform, anyway. I don't care about doom 3. Unreal Tournament 2004 runs fine on my iBook, which is slower than the Mac Mini. Not that I ever play it.

That's why I have a Gamecube. I am not an idiot. I have a computer for being a computer and a game console for being a game console.

And the other thing: WAAAH I CAN'T UPGRADE IT MYSELF then buy something else. You can't upgrade the graphics card because it's soldered onto the motherboard. There is no PCI slot because everything else you'll be needing for the foreseeable future is in the computer already. You want video in? You buy the firewire box that does it. It's only like 100 dollars. You have to spend that much for the PCI card for a wintel box anyway. And don't give me any of this "But it's cheaper when I use eggpricediscount.netcom" nonsense. I am a normal human being. A lot of other people are normal human beings. I buy my computer stuff at a real store. Most people that buy a Mac Mini are normal human beings.

If you want to build your own computer, fine. Build your own computer. Don't ruin what I might want to buy by asking for crap nobody needs.

Moron.

In other news, I am being prolific this evening. How rare.

An Addendum:

By "privacy is what we make of it" I mean we need to focus on the important things.

My name, address, date of birth, and other DL information is not a privacy issue. How many guitar picks I have or whether or not someone sees my desk lamp on an infrared scan are privacy issues. That stupid filthy show on MTV, "Roomraiders" is an invasion of privacy.

Reasonable expectation, people.

I'm confused...

There's a grand sweeping opposition to anything resembling a national identification card that you can easily see anywhere on the internet.

I don't see why, necessarily, everyone has to hate it on the face, though.

My concern is that the problem almost everyone seems to have with it is that the government will use it as a tool for locking people up for not having their papers in order. As someone who was the fortunate recipient of a ticket for "Failure to Present Vehicle Registration on Demand," I can already tell you we live in a country where "Show your papers" is already an accepted doctrine. Why do I get to say that on the basis of vehicle registration? I don't. I get to say it on the basis that "Failure to Present Identification on Demand" is right above or below it.

I personally don't care. I already have to carry identification of some kind anyway, and, as such, it doesn't strike me as any of my concern who issues it. The states have all the information on file as it is, but how long would it take the FBI to get that information if I were to be investigated for something?

Tin Foil Hats this and that. It's all nonsense and bullshit, in my opinion. People don't seem to understand that privacy is what we make of it.

Saturday, January 22, 2005

Hey guess what!

God I hate the internet.

Don't keep us in suspense... hah.

Yeah so I have no money still. Plus it snowed, so I couldn't even go price comparing.

Soon.

Also either sign or otherwise make identifiable your comments, cause doing that makes you a kick-ass hero.

Friday, January 21, 2005

[giddies deleted]

Tomorrow I go "shopping" which means one of three things:



I'll come home with this (preferred!)



I'll come home with this (less preferred!)



or



I'll come home empty handed (terrible!).



Now, clearly, I am not so superficial as to base my bass purchase on looks alone, as the sound here is really what I'm after; but, if nobody carries what I want, then I may have to settle on the Corvette (not that the shape is bad, the problem is the chrome hardware and what I perceive to be generic finish).



Sigh... such tough choices.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Well that was fun

So I says to me I says "Hey! Youse should writes a ... what is it... Song, there"

Hah. Well, my lack of ability to understand bass clef hurts that sort of plan right out of the... plan. So I did the next best thing, I sat down with my guitar and started playing something, then went back and put a bass track over it, then realized something in the mix sucked, then rerecorded that part, then changed the timing on the other part, then once satisfied, moved on to the next part to repeat the process. I didn't make it very far, but the important thing is that I did something.

stuff.mp3

For those of you who actually listen, I only ask that you ignore the terrible syncing I did and the fact that there's no percussion. I had to turn off the metronome so I could actually play and some of my intros caught me by surprise or something. Not that I'm apologetic -- I think I did pretty good for improvising between 3:00 and 5:40 am.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Saying I'd Tell You Later Was A Mistake

I don't remember most of what happened. What I do remember is that sometime around 3 or 4 in the morning on Tuesday, we were laughing so hard my head hurt. My roommate Jeff at some point "acquired" a copy of sims 2. Needless to say horrors ensued upon the unwitting residents of simsville.

Jeff created a happy couple and proceeded to place them in a 2 room shack outside of town. Pre-furninshings saw the couple owning a double bed and a grill in the main room of the house. A toilet and a fridge adorned the kitchen/bathroom. The bathtub was placed outside aside the house just behind the TV, and Jeff decided to block the path to their house by placing a Panda shaped seat at the end. For his sims further entertainment he lined the walkway leading to their house with wine bottles better suited for say a wedding or other special occasion. One of the first things he made his sims do was toast each other under a pine tree in the front yard. Soon enough a mail carrier showed up at the front of the path. Dffdsdf and jiou welcomed themselves to the neighborhood by tipping her 100 dollars. After a bit of wandering around the yard it was time to get some rest.

Jeff woke them up when a welcoming committee came down the street. They greeted these newcomers in their underwear, not having time to dress, and soon there was a merry blaze inside the house. Seems grilling inside isn't a very good idea after all. The fire put out(by the hapless couple since they didnt have a phone to call the fire dept), the sims adrenaline pumping(the welcoming committee had decided to come inside for the express purpose of dancing before the blaze like fools), Jeff continued to entertain the newcomers (two of whom being Jeff's other couple a visual representation of his self and his hot redheaded wife) by making the couple under his current control perform a whoohoo in front of all of their visitors. Whoohoo being of course Sims 2's word for "having sex". Strangely enough the sims AI allows for some modicum of modesty as the neighborhood sims streamed out into the yard and disappeared one by one while my two-room-shack experiment slept off their escapades.

The long haired of the two woke up first. She reeked, not having had a bath the day before, so Jeff made her work out on the equipment he had placed in the front yard right next to the staircase to nowhere. By the time the short haired of the two woke up both sims were starving. Jeff had put the grill outside and eventually just destroyed it. No more food was coming from that evil contraption. He made her juggle bottles in front of the fridge. Dffdsdf had somehow snuck her way to the bathtub and we could have none of that, so still in her workout clothes, Jeff made her instead dance inside the bathtub for a while. It was around this point that Jeff noticed that both of his laboratory rats had an aspiration to own a bar so he plopped one down just to the side of the panda chair. Now he didn't want to particularly kill the two so he finally commanded jiou to make some jello instead of juggle bottles. They happily wolfed it down and began a mad search for something to wash the plates in. They ran all over the house and outside before finally deciding to simply throw the plates away. A significant portion of the jello remained on the floor in front of the toilet.

There were too many trees in the yard. After serving another wedding toast to a passerby in the street (jiou still in her underwear of course), jeff sold all of the trees in their yard and gave them a fancy fireplace in the front yard just off from the TV. To celebrate the occasion Jeff filled the house with balloons. This of course means they couldn't get in. Three days or so awake now under their belts they began to grow tired. One actually passed out on the floor just inside the house and the other fell asleep standing up on the front porch because she couldn't get over the motionless body of her partner.

Jeff decided they had had enough. They could no longer go without emergency service acquisition, so he put 15 phones inside their house. The balloons started popping the next day. As a result. Jeff deleted their bed. Ms. mail carrier showed up again and long hair proceeded to tip her one dollar over and over agian for the better part of a day. jiou needed a bath so he made her start a fire in the fireplace. The Jeff made her clean the bathtub. Taking a sadistic form of pity on his wards. Jeff replaced the space where their double bed had been with an oddly fashioned single.

Dffdsf was dead tired at this point but jiou had crawled into the bed and started reading a book that she had apparently magically produced from thin air. Now, Jeff couldn't stand for this injustice so he made jiou get up and skip up and down the street for a few hours while the other prank called the police. Soon the police showed up and fined them 500 dollars (and some food from the fridge) for a false report as Dfffdsf frantically tried to show off to the officer. Come morning the popped balloon refuse had been wallowing for days and the sims actually began cleaning of their own accord. So much so that they could finally actually reach the phone when it began to ring. jiou talked to one of the other sims they had survived the first days fire with, but Dffdsf was really hurting for human contact. Who shows up right at this point but the social bunny, a person in a bunny suit who you can perform most all basic social interactions with. What better to do than make Dffdsf beat the crap out of it. jiou came out to watch as Dffdsf beat the social bunny for all he was worth and literally pushed him around the lot.

Eventually he had enough and disappeared. By this point Jeff's sims were drinking nonstop. jiou would visit the bar often enough, but Dffdsf actually wouldn't leave it. She would drink drink after drink all the while complaining about needing a bath, needing to go to the bathroom, needing to eat, everything basically, but she refused to leave the bar in the front yard for fear of missing a drink. Then a roach infestation broke out on the back porch. I think Jeff quit at this point, citing his reason as being that a bug infestation was just too sad.

I can only hope the shitheads downstairs enjoyed our little party wednesday to thursday.

Jeff contributed the whole thing about Jeff. Good job!

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

I'll tell you more about it later...

... but, for the moment, suffice it to say I've been awake since 4:15 Monday afternoon until 8:20 tuesday evening, with the end neigh upon me. Fun fun.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Seeing is Believing

We were parked at the gate still, just ready to push back... I have the twelfth row's left side to myself (only two seats thanks to McDonnell Douglas's tremendous powers of appreciating just how wide Americans are) and I actually get to see out a window for the first time in however long.

As some of you may be aware, I am something of an aircraft nut (hah! so much for that plan) and can't get enough of the airport, especially when I have an excuse to be there. Needless to say, it's of great entertainment value to watch taxi, takeoff, and landing operations just because so much cool stuff happens in the process.

I was staring mindlessly at a baggage cart, wondering why its trailer sported a tare weight of 1,920 pounds when I noticed a 747 taking off. Well, I thought, this should be pretty cool. I don't get to see 747s every day. Little did I know that the atmospheric conditions were just right for a ridiculous plume of vapor to trail off of its wings. I mean, take the area of a 747's wings, then double it, hanging the excess from the trailing edge. It was something else.

I also marveled at knowing we were next when we crossed the ILS/hold short line for our active runway (they were running cross traffic; approach patterns were directed to runways 9, takeoff traffic seemed to be limited to runway 4L, but it could have been on both as well), so take my fascination with it as you will.

On the way in, I was reading taxiway indicators laughing about how there were so many numbered spurs (think, in freeway terms, I-495, I-395, I-695, and the like, only instead it's things like A18 and B2) when I saw something that amused me greatly, which you know is going to be bird related. Specifically, a lone hawk was sitting on an M taxiway sign staring at the ground. The humor to be found in this, of course, is that taxiway indicators are about three or four feet tall. Additionally, and I'm sure much to the hawk's chagrin, there was about 6 inches of good snow on the ground right below it.

Either the hawk had moved to the other side of the airport while I was waiting for my flight, or there was another poor bird stuck in the same fate as the first.

[a meaningless aside: I'm sorry I use the elipsis so often in my headlines. I'll work on that in the future.]

Anyway, the flight from Chicago to BWI is only rated to take an hour and twenty six minutes. This is almost pathetically short, although it's not quite as bad as the 53 minute flight from Orlando to Tallahassee that Katy and I made last March. At least enough time to whip out the iBook and compose this and listen to a couple Dream Theater tracks (no small task, I guess).

I learned another important fact about myself this morning. I don't know how many of you know about Dream Theater, but I do know most people who read this know that I possess a deep, intrinsic feeling for music. I never got around to finishing my 'manifesto' for the future of music, but it effectively boiled down to the following three points: inspiration is fine, copying of style is not; simplicity is fine, brainlessness is not; and, most importantly, music should be composed and able to tell stories. The last point entailed sweeping compositions that were not verse-chorus derivations, but instead relied on older techniques like variations on a theme, using different themes for different parts of the story, varying tonality to convey emotion, dynamics instead of meaninglessness through compression, and actually using different instruments in different ways to aid in storytelling.

All these ideas sound great, which is why I thought them. I wasn't the first, however, as I found out when I heard "Home" from Dream Theater's Metropolis, Pt. 2: Scenes from a Memory. Oh, how you have no idea. I immediately went out and bought Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence, an album whose title track is 42 minutes long. Indeed. This led to my purchase of Live at Budokan and, as soon as I could find it, Scenes. I'll spare the details of the story, but suffice it to say that Scenes is an entire album dedicated to a single story, from Overture to its end.

A tad obsessive, perhaps, but I did this for two reason: first, the music does what I want to do with music; and second, the technicality of the playing is so far off the chart, it boggles my mind.

Anyway, the revelation of this all is that I can't listen to intellectual music and read at the same time. I can't focus on the reading. It's been hard enough for me to write this while listening to the middle three tracks from the first disc of Turbulence, I'm sure you can imagine what it would have taken to read and appreciate So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish. Yeah... I'm reading, I know. It's hard enough to believe.

That's pretty much all that's in my head right now, which is good because the turbulence is kicking up and I need to think about packing my computer back up. There you go, though, a meaningful entry for the first time ever.

Monday, January 10, 2005

wheee

Not that I've not had fun out here, but I'm headed home tomorrow and glad to be doing so. I've been traveling pretty much non stop since the week before christmas and I'm kind of sick of it. I want an opportunity to just sit still for a while. Or, if not that, then I want the opportunity to drink with people I know and the opportunity to travel for purposes of buying a bass guitar and possibly using it. But one step at a time.

I wish I had been able to see the mountain goats. We went up twice to look for them, but neither time did we succeed. It would have been a nice way to use my new lenses. Sigh. Eventually, I guess.

For now, I plan on chili and beer night in the immediate future. Oh, such goals. Maybe mario party, too.

Friday, January 7, 2005

also...

I expressed "buyer's remorse" after posting that last entry, claiming that it was ... uhh... well, wussy.

I feel guilty.

Jeff brings up an interesting point, though: I feel guilty because I, unlike the rest of the internet, have a conscience.

In my neverending struggle to piece together every piece from every puzzle, whether or not they go together, this tells me that the real reason I have such trouble running a blog is that I feel like an idiot sharing my life with other people. Maybe I'll get over that, maybe I won't. Maybe it's not even real. Who knows.

Thursday, January 6, 2005

I don't want this...

... but I imagine it should be shared on the off chance that someone who would appreciate it reads here.

Tshirt!

I don't write about things often enough, you know.

Welcome to whenever

Hi!

Monday, January 3, 2005

Proof I'm Really Human

... or, "How I [almost] Learned to Love the John"

I spent the entire day recovering from my ... excursion to sour mash country yesterday. You should see how much I drank yesterday. Or not. Suffice it to say that I had to take a nap this afternoon. As I said to Jeff, though, I can't keep this business of not paying for my mistakes up forever.

That said, I'm doing laundry and packing this evening. I go to Utah tomorrow. It'll be fun. I'll keep up on things while I'm out there, but I don't expect much newsworthy to happen. We'll see what happens.

Sunday, January 2, 2005

New Year

yeah... I've been awake since 3:30 because I had to go to BWI

Do you know why I'm drunk?

Would anyone but Katy have guessed that a human relationship would have this much power over me?

More importantly, would anyone have guessed I wouldn't figure that out until I was two seconds from hepatitis? I'm on drink number nine right now and I am ashamed of myself for it. I just wish there were something I could do that didn't involve punishing myself time and time again for a promise I made 13 months ago in a parking lot outside a football game.

"I'm afraid... afraid you're going to forget me when I leave. it happened before..."
"I won't forget you. You're only going to be away from me, that doesn't change who you are or who I am, we're still us. I promise you... I won't forget about you."

And guess what: more than a year later, i still haven't forgotten.