ChemEMEKal Aaarght!
Boy! I feel good. Listening to Billy Childish, Black Elvis & the new Smog. I just ate a big-ass porkchop sandwich with 2 kindsa mustard & a good-sized slab of mayo. The sun is shining. I slept well, as usual. The girls look good. My glasses are fixed. I'm in cahoots with karma. Join my army.
Friday, April 7, 2000, 11:49 a.m.
Lisa Darling updates
Lisa is not exactly what I'd call a friend since I hardly know her. Let's call her an acquaintance. Also, she's my man Honk's girlfriend. And he's Lisa's boyfriend.
Lisa writes - among other things - scene reports from the regional scene. She's way cool. Cooler than me. Fuck, I'm listening to unwound and Blonde Redhead right now. That's not so darn cool, is it? And Supersuckers live! Don't mess with me hombre!
My little brother is currently on an Assassin trip. I have yet to listen to it, but I trust him implicitly, because he's my brother, right. Yesterday, I ordered a bunch of music. I'm wild, man. Insane! You can't bring me down. The loot: Makers. LKJ Anthology. RFTC. Rondelles. Latest Rev. Heat. First Murder City Devils. & Zeke. Am I Doctor Rock, or what?, say aye!
And right now, I'm listening to The Muffs. And I do jack shit for my job. And I start off every morning by listening to the Hot Snakes If Credit's What Matters I'll Take Credit. I'm a prat. But I'm a stone cold daddy-o prat.
Thursday, April 6, 2000, 04:22 p.m.
¿Vinyl Video?
A regular weblog entry, according to mandate (my ass!). Just a link and a sentence. Well, 6 sentences using my usual longeur mode. Vinyl Video is the ultimate in nerd equipment: a way to record video onto vinyl and then show it on your regular tv screen, using a retro-looking gadget and yer trusty old turntable. Holy 33 1/3, Batman!
Wednesday, April 5, 2000, 02:55 p.m.
Kein Mitlied Für MicroSoft
from today's salon:
Microsoft Chairman Bill Gates told a press conference call, "This ruling turns on its head the reality consumers know -- our software has helped make PCs more accessible and useful to millions of consumers ... As we look ahead to the appeals process, innovation will be the No. 1 priority at Microsoft."
Fucking AMEN, William! If there is one thing that the $hafters HAVEN'T been good at, it's innovation. Steal & loot & make unstable & unsecure OS's, has rather been their forte.
Mind, Apple hasn't been much better as of late. When they killed the clones, it really pissed me off. And since they don't disclose anything about G3's and up, they've almost effectively stopped many *nixes, such as the ultra-secure OpenBSD, and they HAVE effectively stopped the truly visionary BeOS. BeOS runs like a goddamned motherfucker and really shows off the power of unfettered PPC processors. Incredibly fast, even on 601's. Wanking Steve pulled the plug, because he didn't want nothing competing with his prescious OSX. Which seems to be OK, but it's ugly as hell, and buggy as ALL hell right now. We'll have to see. Meanwhile, I'll install Yellowdog Linux on an old box. Kill dem Windoze boxes dead, papa!
Tuesday, April 4, 2000, 11:00 a.m.
Taste DJ Static's Scratch-Fu!
Alright. So I'm a wuzz. I wuzzed out going to Copenhagen during the weekend to check out the Adios Moshable punk rock extravaganza. Instead, I stayed in Sweden. But fuck me if it was such a bad choice.
On friday, I went to a hip hop/ragga/etc club called D-Lo and saw the invincible scratch fu of danish top turntablist DJ Static (world champion DJ Noize was supposed to do the honors, but cancelled). Together with local emcee Timbuktu and the bearded rappatronic Promoe of Looptroop they were in the motherfucking house. I mean damn! These guys rhyme like nobody's business and weigh several tons. The freestyle was something wicked. Not that I'd rather watch them than The Reverend Horton Heat, mind. I got a tear in my eye, realizing that a precious few US emcees can match Promoe and Timbuktu.
Saturday, I went to see the illustrious Mr. Vegas, rude bwoy. It was great fun. Never having been to a ragga concert before, it was a sight to see. The Vegaster walked around with a constant highly visible semi-hardon. Great fun. His pelvis was incredibly flexible. Fuck, his thrust momentum shattered concrete. I'm telling you, he moved his hips over half a meter in less than 1/10 second. Pow! One dickie, dickie, dickie, two dickie. Rude, funny, cartoony, bad tastey, brilliant singer, massive entertainer.
I felt a little twitch of love in my heart this saturday. Is it the spring?
Monday, April 3, 2000, 11:12 a.m.
Gravité
Spank my monkey and call me a nerd, but when I came to my second job today, a co-worker (who's a nice guy, but somewhat of the office prankster) had installed Gravité on my hunk-o-junk 8500. And I played around with it for at least 3 minutes.
Usually, I dislike eyecandy, such as Kaleidoscope, or Gnome on Linux. But I sure liked this. Try it. And, oh, it's a mac program, of course. Wouldn't be bothered with no unsecure, unstable windoze p-o-s box, man. And what the fuck is 96 pixels anyhow? Goddamned retards. Flame on.
Friday, March 31, 2000, 02:52 p.m.
I'm still a heel...
As I sat home yesterday, probably doing that most lonely of acts: chatting up gals on the "internet", I came to think of an old book that I have. The Rascal's Guide[<---klik it, it's about 55K all in all, but well worth it], it's called.
Now, this is a book from a lost age. 1959. Hard boiled age. Sexist age. Racist age. Stag fucking age. The era of stag reels and cocktail parties and a necking at the lounge. Probably a really fucked-over era. But it looks golden 6 innocent, at least in retrospect.
The content of the book is taken from numerous stag mags: Swank, Brief, Stag, Men and Bachelor. Among the articles are "Southjern Girls-Lousy Lovers?", "Lowdown on the Cocktail Seducers" (my fave!), "Bedside Lessons for the Sportsman" and "How to Lush It Up and Influence People". Or "Party Games for the Suburban Scoundrel". And, oh, "How to Be a Damned Fool at a Convention". Not me, mister. Not my mama's son.
Oh. Check out the cover if you didn't already!
Word to the wise and not-so-wise: this is a great book. It oozes suaveness. It's great to look at while listening to The Headcoatees or Martin Denny. So far, it hasn't gotten me inside a virgin's knickerbockers. Still, the book states "Kinsey to the contrary, there are more virgins around than one might think." Well, bugger me sideways! That's what I always suspected. If you're female, look for that guy with the look of a debonair, drinking some impossible-to-pronounce drink: that, you see, is I. Wolfishly, I slide up to you. You have met your rascal. (It's all fucking inane hyperbole, of course. But in my dreams... these things happen;)
Thursday, March 30, 2000, 07:52 p.m.
The Limey, cor blimey
So I went to see The Limey yesterday. I was more then entertained. In fact, I had to camouflage my excitement not to appear the total dolt. Everytime quintessential cockney Terence Stamp opened his mouth, or even appeard on screen, I just wanted to throw my hands in the air. Such a goddamn presence. I think it was MacLean who said it about Robert Mitchum - "He makes other actors look like hole in the screen". Or something to that effect. Mitchum had it. But god damn it, Stamp has it too.
It's a pity that we've seen so little of Stamp. In many ways, Hollyweird has reduced him to the token brit, like Finis Valorum in The Phantom Menace or Sir Larry Wildman in Wall Street. But once upon a time, he was one of the most promising british actors. One of my favourite serial killer movies, The Collector, from 1965 saw him as a solidly weird young man. In many ways, the movie is a companion to Peeping Tom, another great british technicolor piece.
It's nice to see Soderberg pay homage to that era of Stamp's acting career by including footage from socialist film maker Ken Loach's Poor Cow. That particular era also saw what could have been one of the greatest action movies of all times. But Modesty Blaise turned out to be one of the biggest high camp wank movies ever made. Sure, Stamp as Man's Man Willie Garvin is thoroughly great, but you wouldn't believe the kitch factor of the movie. Far beyond 10.
But now I hope Stamp is back with a vengeance. I'd like to see him in a Takeshi Kitano-directed movie. It should be great to see Stamp pitted against Kitano. Heck, I'd watch those two just staring at each other for 2 hours straight, guv. No holes in the screen, there.
After the movie I went to a bar. I sat there, nourishing three big beers and three Fernet-Brancas and chatting to friends. I felt like a bloody movie star, albeit a broken-down one. The things we do to make ourselves mock-epic beings...
[bonus: epileptic cerdo]
Wednesday, March 29, 2000, 09:57 a.m.
Rewebber - slick, sleek & gratis
I'm happy because:
a) despite my tinnitus which won't go away, I have no hearing loss whatsoever.
b) my video with 3D women's wrestling surfaced after 5 years in limbo.
c) I had a beer for lunch, thanks very much, which sat fine with the olive-stuffed giant meatballs I ate.
d) this weather sucks, 4 inches of supermelted snow, and I didn't get wet anyway!
e) a replacement glass for my glasses that I broke during the Supersuckers concert that gave me tinnitus wasn't as expensive as I had thought it'd be.
f) my poster for the forthcoming Langhorns concert didn't look at all bad.
I think I'll enjoy the next few weeks... spring, little fuckers, is in the air!
Tuesday, March 28, 2000, 01:48 p.m.
I'm waiting for Mozilla 6, thanks very much
My eyes are full of stars.
My ears are emitting a high-pitched squeal.
My friend Malcolm is in Vietnam.
My little bro is in Paris.
I did an AfterEffects project last week.
I started using IE 5 to-day, but decided against it after 3 hours.
I hate browsers. Bloated. Like your mama.
The spring went on hiatus again.
I got the Elvis t-shirts I did last week.
I don't give a flyin' fuck about the Oscars.
My other gun is a Gatling.
I wanna go see The Limey.
The police beat up people here too.
My other computer is a mac too. Running OpenBSD.
My other other computer is a mac, too.
I'm happy, cuz my very very good friend Alexander is moving back to Lund. Are we gonna cook or what? Yesterday, Alexander cooked stuffed pigeons. I stayed at home, listening to DJ Krush's latest alb.
Monday, March 27, 2000, 06:33 p.m.
Peacefire
Once again, the dogs of capitalistic censorship control has been let loose. This time it is about a program (cphack.exe) which effectively decrypts CyberPatrol's list of banned sites. It has been suspected for a long time that CP bans a lot of things, excepting porn and violence. This decryption software showed what the reality was. CyberPatrol have proceeded to file a lawsuit against certain parties involved, such as the aforementioned Peacefire. As I'm writing this, a copy of the program can still be found at openPGP. I'm sure it will be disseminated all over the Internet in no time.
Meanwhile, it can also be noted that the ACLU has decided to defend Peacefire and other parties. All in all, censorware is pretty scary. Plus one of the big censors is wholly owned by the despised Church of Scientology. So they censor inconvenient ideas too. Fuck them, always!
Monday, March 27, 2000, 04:08 p.m.
