Pragmatik

I love Yehuda Moon.  If you do not, you might have a problem.  Yes, if you do not like Yehuda Moon, you might suck.  Or, you might not like bikes.  In that case, you might suck.  I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this.

I follow religiously every morning.  Yesterday, this almost made me cry.  Getting sad over the death of a cartoon character might make me suck, but remember that watching “The Simpsons” is — as one family member has pointed out — like a church or mass or some such act of devotion for my brother and for me, doubly so when we are together to watch it.

I mean, I think it’s only logical.  “The Simpsons” is probably the greatest thing to be invented since bikes, even better than Dunkin Donuts or pain medication.  Watching it whenever you can just makes sense.  It proves that, despite my walking into things and spending my adult life in school, I am not a complete idiot.

You should love the Yehuda Moon comic and “The Simpsons” — prove your worth, I say.  (And buy me a shirt while you’re at it.)  I mean it.

Geez, with this crappy weather, I found myself like this little bird today, hunkering down in head-to-toe flannel and socks.  I did walk to the market in the rain, with a hoody.  I swung my folded umbrella, to alert people that I was in fact enjoying some rain, rather than forgetful of said umbrella.  Stupid decision, since I went from not feeling well to feeling worse.  I watched Broken Flowers when my work was done.  Drank too much coffee, too.

Did I mention that I learned how to use a sewing machine?

[This is from three years ago, when I had a balcony on which I hang stuff like birdhouses.  I didn't move.  Again.]

At the risk of sounding like some nut, one of the latest CarMax commercials really bugs me. You know the ones where there’s some allegedly outdated mode of transportation, someone wants to buy one, and then the dealer (HorseMax or BicycleMax) have some policy similar to CarMax. “Why didn’t someone think of this before?” the customer wonders aloud. There is one with chariots, which, Okay, I think we’d all call an outdated mode of transportation. But then these commercials claim the same thing about horses and camels, which is certainly saying something to people who live in lands where these beasts really are a means of transportation. I suppose you could argue that the commercials are meant for an American audience, and no one here rides camels to work, so no harm, no fowl. But no one in this country ever needed a camel dealer for transportation. That does not work. They are totally saying that cars are the highest and most modern form of transportation. Not just any car. A used car from CarMax.

Which is why the one about bikes makes me mad. It has some big-toothed Victorian wankers talking about comfort, French cheese, bringing a bike back if you don’t like it, etc. The implication is that bikes are an outdated means of getting around, one that, with the rest of the commercials, I think counts as more of a statement. That those of us on bikes that are actually more modern than the Planet Killers a lot of people drive are somehow old-fashioned. That we are ugly ladies who want a pillow under our butts and a creepy mustached guy riding around with us.

Watch the video here.

I don’t know. They are in the business of selling cars, so maybe they are threatened by the fact that more bikes are sold yearly than cars. Maybe they deliberately targeted cycling. Maybe what’s next is like the anti-global warming morons who try to sell us jacked-up science. Maybe Ford and GM will start funding studies about cycling as unhealthy, dangerous, etc.

Or maybe they’ll want in on the action and start making bikes, which would be pretty nice. Those companies have a lot of money they could invest in infrastructure. GM got rid of streetcars and got buses into major cities. Maybe they could get bikes there, too. Not to mention the sweet designs they might be able to come up with. A Mustang bike?!

0% Financing on all new 2008 bikes! Taxes and registration extra.

Professional driver. Closed course.10,000 mpg (EPA estimated)

Model shown with optional equipment.

Mensa listed the ten smartest shows in television history. Complete bull hockey. Any list of the smartest shows on television that does not include “The Simpsons” must be compiled by a Neanderthal. I’m serious. Hell, any list that has anything other than

1) “The Simpsons”
2) “The Simpsons”
3) “The Simpsons”
4) “The Simpsons”
5) “The Simpsons”
6) “The Simpsons”
7) “The Simpsons”
8) “The Simpsons”
9) “The Simpsons”
10) “The Simpsons”

is complete crap. I don’t believe that whoever made this list have ever seen any other shows.  In fact, I hereby charge that the group or board or person who made this list has never seen anything on television before.

I’m very glad I stopped paying my Mensa dues. Really, I did. It was expensive.  What? Oh, yeah, I got into Mensa.  I’m not stupid or anything you know.  Geez.  Dang.  Come to think of it, maybe that would be good on a resume’.  Maybe I should pay my dues.  Make up for the whole spent-my-adult-life-in-school thing.

Rode bikes to The Charles today to see The Darjeeling Limited, the only place in town it seems to be playing. It was cold and grey, and I totally pulled a muscle in my special area on the way. But it was totally worth it. If you’re a fan of Wes Anderson, you’ll love it. Jason Schwarzman helped write it. Bill Murray is in it for a minute. Personally, I prefer Luke to Owen Wilson, for humor, but Adrien Brody was fantastic as the sentimental brother. I don’t want to say more, to give it away, other than to say that it was very unlike The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, which I liked a lot but many people seem to have hated. About the latter, I say, a “bad” Wes Anderson movie is better than a lot of “good” movies I’ve seen.

They make me want to blow up that brand of auto using my brain only. (I can SO do it!) You know the ones: where that self-satisfied-edly (I made a word!) annoying guy rags on people because of the kinds of cars they drive.

You’re a school of clowns? Well, dang, you need yourself a minivan.

Can’t fit your TV set that you replace every seven years into your car? You need an SUV.

Hey, attractive lady who would never talk to me in a bar, it’s taking a long time to fill up your tank in that SUV. You should get something smaller and not wear so much denim. I prescribe for…A PRIUS!

I just want to kick him in the throat. That’s violent! I know, I should be grateful that Toyota has us all covered like that. Thanks, T!

I played hooky today and saw Superbad. It was hilarious. And the pretzel bites and cheap cheese were a yummy lunch for another too-much-coffee day like today and yesterday. My stomach hurts, though. Stress. Job hunting. Etc. Poor me. I slept until 8 today. 8. Damn.

I haven’t done it properly since 2003 (and only before that in 2002, really), but we are watching one of my very favorite films tonight: Amelie. I received it as a gift for my birthday in 2002 with a small volume of Baudelaire’s prose poems. I was instructed to watch it without knowing anything about it. So I did, on August 29th, the night before my birthday. Turns out that a lot of the movie is set on that day. In Paris, Where I can’t get soon enough.

If, for some reason, you haven’t seen it, go get it, and watch it. My, oh, my. I know it’s fashionable to like it, but that’s for good reason. It really is a fantastic movie.

I am listening to the [FANTASTIC] soundtrack right now as I smell my [all organic and made from scratch, even the icing, but my wonderful wife] birthday cake cooking in the oven.

Tomorrow, I am making omelettes. Jalapeno (with squiggle) peppers, plum tomatoes and sweet onion. And both kinds of veggie sausage. Links and patties. I am making them because, well, I’m the only one in the apartment who can make omelettes.

Downtown. Maybe find the army surplus daypack I’ve always been looking for at H&H. Read Street Books. The Walter’s Art Museum. Other fun things, involving lots of good coffee. My family is coming downtown to meet us at the Mount Vernon Donna’s, after which it is cake and ice-cream [organic, too].

It’s going to be a nice birthday.

You should go see The Simpsons Movie. Why? When have I ever given you bad direction? I mean, really. I saw the first showing at The Rotunda Cinemateque Friday at noon with my brother and the Mrs. and then saw it again that evening. It was worth seeing twice. Few people, if any, are giving our spoilers. I won’t, either. I’d have sworn vengeance on anyone that did that before I saw it. Honestly. “The Simpsons” is really the only reason we have a TV at all. We could watch movies and download the few shows we watch on the computer. If you see this film, you’ll enjoy:

Amazing animation. Aside from using the techniques from “Futurama”, the color is fantastic. “The Simpsons” on TV looks like crap now. But we watch it for the writing, not the colors, no?

Cartoon nudity. And who doesn’t like that?

One drop of the GD word/phrase that they never do in TV.

Drugs.

Illustration of how…ignorant we are.

Poop.

Seriously, it’s like an 87 minute episode of the show. And I mean that in a good way. I thought the “South Park” film was funny but very different than the show. The Simpsons Movie was not unlike the show in any ways that would have made it, well, suck. (Dang it’s hard to talk about without giving anything away.) If, for some reason, you don’t trust anything with “The Simpsons” on it, then trust me.

I’m very credible.

So there we were last night. Sweating after dinner on the couch. Cranky from not having any coffee and all or enough tea. On came the Dunkin Donuts commercial with Rachel Ray. Big. Iced. Coffee.

We jumped up at my suggestion and strolled to our local Dunkin Donuts for two tasty treats. Turns out that there’s some summer special where medium (read: huge) iced coffees are only $0.99. Sweet.

Repeated this today. Because dang, it was good. I totally drank most of mine on the ten minute walk home, though. F pointed out yesterday that a commercial totally worked on us. I think that’s funny.

Oh, yeah, did I mention that my brother is getting married Friday?

I know a lot of people didn’t like V for Vendetta, thought it was not anarchistic enough like the original was, too “Hollywood liberal”, etc. But I liked it a lot. I thought watching it yesterday on the computer and dissecting it would reveal its flaws to me. Or at least V’s flaws, like it did the new Batman’s. But I emerged from a four-hour viewing of it with my affection for the film intact. I am listening to the soundtrack right now as I type up half of a dissertation chapter on the proper way to hate.

What I was hoping to pick up and did in fact find in the film was that V’s hate and revenge transcended his own suffering and pain. At the end, he shows us that his destruction of Parliament and the new world it will usher in are his preferred goals, and they are not for him at all. He won’t even pull the lever and instead offers it as a gift to Evey.

Which is not to say that the film is not about revenge. In the end, though, V separates his own revenge from the destruction of Parliament by giving the train-bomb to Evey and the future. He proves that there is “more” or “something else” than his own life, in a ham-fisted way.

But you know, I really enjoy any revenge movie where the baddies get their comeuppance. Who doesn’t?

So, in our quest to seriously attempt to live without air conditioning (at home) in Baltimore’s nasty summer, we bought some cool fans last week. Checked out the website and realized that they indeed make bigger ones. Gonna return the medium ones. Was gonna get those big suckers. Ordered them on Amazon yesterday, and they showed up today with free shipping (sweet!). We got back from The Evergreen, and there was this huge box on our doorstep. Just in time for the back-end of this current — but short — heatwave. It’s a code red day in the city today, for serious, dude.

And I have to watch V for Vendetta on the computer with headphones to catch the tasty dialog for an end-ish chapter of the diss. (So being not-sweaty would be nice.) How to properly hate, unlike the sissy-ish new Batman who won’t kill anyone and doesn’t get much done at all… Of course, I’m not sure how much I believe any of this now, but I just want to get this over with. It’s not like anyone will read it.

Back to fans. It’s like a breezy day in here now. We might wind up breaking down and putting our window AC units in later. But at least we can say we really really tried. It’s not just an environmental/energy matter, either. It’s a Johnny’s a brat matter. If I can stand the summer in Baltimore without AC at home, that’s a good step — for me.

It’s really about as hot as it gets without a deadly heatwave today, and I can dig it.

[Larger.]

This might be better as a photo for impurity. There I was earlier this week, trying to cut back on caffeine and looking for a substitute for my nightly herbal tea. Tried some Nescafe’ instant decaf over ice. It was quite yummy. Made some hot last night while I watched Black Gold, and I don’t know if I can finish it. I [almost] always buy organic/fair-trade coffee for my French press[es], but I suppose I never really knew why. I was more concerned with the organic/environmental aspect than the trade part.

But not after this film. Now I find myself ashamed that I ever defended Starbucks on this blog, though, in my defense, it was as a company per se. And I was talking about wannabe anti-corporate weiners who hate Starbucks with an iPod on for no other reason than that Starbucks is a big company. Cuz, you know, iPods are handmade by well-paid artisans for a small little local company. Since leaving the Dale, I only go to Starbucks in a pinch because, honestly, my addiction is more important to me than my values some days. I hate when people say, “I don’t go to Starbucks,” but then do when they need to. That’s horsehockey.

I won’t take my Starbucks posts down, though. I admit when I’m wrong I do. And the next time I’m stuck in my berg with no other options but to pass out on the sidewalk, I will likely deal with the devil again.

[For Photo Friday: Purity.]

I have to get up before dawn tomorrow to go to the hospital with my brother, who is getting surgery to repair a muscle tear in his chest. It’s weird to think that someone a year younger than I am is going under the knife in such a serious way and getting mesh put there forever. And how dang skinny he’s gotten in the past year makes him look fragile as it is. I’m trying not to think about the procedure too much, as I am sure my brother is busy doing.

Luckily, his favorite show is on tomorrow night, for a special episode. I like to think the universe is smiling down on my brother presently. It’s not everyday that “My Name Is Earl” is on for a full hour, you know.

Because, well, you pay enough attention to things this hairy little guy says to be reading this blog, so that suggests you might appreciate something that said hairy little guy really digs. Yeah.  It’s free, and you can try a LiveCD that does not install anything on your hard drive, only your RAM. Download here. And then be awesome.

In other news, you can apparently transplant eyelashes now. Mine are very long and very thick and very dark and very lush. I should sell those suckers to pay my student loans. I wonder how to do that?

Or I could go all Fight Club and sneak into the shower room at a spa and collect hair and then sell the thicker ones back as eyelashes for ugly rich women.

That would be funny.