>> Clutch //

Fruit Fight

2008-06-18T15:40:00.001-04:00

Me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Of90cKxSeuw
Ross: I LOVE THIS
Me: I know you do...
Ross: BANANAS ARE GOOD = THERE IS A GOD
Me: Kirk Cameron is well off the reservation...
Ross: ...with Katie Holmes and tom cruise only they are on Scientology planet. They should fight to the death...
Me: ...using blunt fruit

SEO Comes A Knockin'

2008-05-07T00:37:00.002-04:00

What good is a concept, a project, an idea, energy, if you're trumped by the guy with more money than you? The internet is still a place where merit matters until we start selling off chunks of what effectively is all of our idea (or imagination) space. Got to thinking about this at about the same time I got this email:

Received: 12:17 AM
"Brandon - I can get your site to the top of a search engines listings. If you're interested, reply with the web addresses you want to promote and the best way to contact you with some options. - [Name omitted]"

Sent: 12:38 AM
[Name omitted] - thanks for offering your services. I won't be needing them... the majority of my work makes its way around the internet with enough speed from viral activity that search engines are often behind by the time things hit a fever pitch. Besides, I don't want to force people to see stuff - what and how things enter into people's consciousness ought to be up to them and vetted through sound decision making and trust, not a large SEO budget. Thanks!

How A "So-So" Shirt Becomes An "Awesome" Shirt

2008-04-12T21:13:00.003-04:00

Step One - Find shirt (usually from Georgia Thrift or could be left behind by friend - point is you did not own it originally or it came into your keeping through some indirect manner)

Step Two - Ignore shirt for at least 2 weeks (throw it on top of laundry pile and forget about it until your turn with the washing machine)

Step Three - Wear all clean clothes until you have nothing left (this is when you discover forgotten shirt in the pile while sorting through for semi-wearable clothes because you never do laundry)

Step Four - Put on shirt and say to self, "Pfff - WHATEVER..." and go out

Step Five - Shenanigans, ribaldry, debauchery, defenestration, gingerbread house building, horse-betting, soap-making, life choice-decisioning, fire-fighting, and finally pancake eating

Step Six - remove shirt - alone or with help - and at some point inspect (notice glow of influence now emanating from once simple garment)

Step Seven - wear shirt again when necessary

Top 10 Fights I Can Never Avoid Having

2008-04-03T15:32:00.001-04:00

- Why I made that face
- How useless certain magazines are
- Justin Timberlake
- I paid for x but got y
- Words really mean things and are not randomly interchangeable
- What I meant when it looked like I was typing for an hour but didn't respond
- Yeah, I changed the WEP password again
- You'll split the check if it's your goal to be paid
- I said to do x but you did y
- Why there's ground up coffee beans in chocolate now apparently (new)

Feather-tastic Pillow-Monium

2008-03-22T17:16:00.001-04:00

Where there's feathers, there's pillow fights. And that is exactly what was to be found today in Dupont Circle where about a hundred people arrived (likely just out of bed) for Washington DC's 2008 Pillow Fight. Here's some video I shot after I having the wind knocked out of me:

About Half-Way Through

Final 30 Seconds

Untitled Performance with Keyboard and File Sharing Program

2008-02-11T17:34:00.000-05:00

Today I witnessed the best of the worst one man dramas ever to take place over the miracle that is group chat. As probably the only person who cares, I get to name it - so, I'm tentatively calling it "Untitled Performance with Keyboard and File Sharing Program" but it's probably already better known as "Thousands Ignore Anti File Sharing Giant's Attempt to Scare You Off of SolarSeek".

What follows is the kind of disaster technology scenes that people really love to believe. Let's listen in...

(krazer01, an unsuspecting file sharer, probably in his teens, finishes shooting up, punching his dog and praying to Satan, then logs into SolarSeek)

krazer01: virus
krazer01: o shit
krazer01: my pc is goin down
krazer01: kfwejfd
krazer01: wtf
krazer01: wtf
krazer01: a mesage came to me and said that my sistem will be fucked up from soulseek
krazer01: my antivirus is goin crazy
krazer01: wtf
krazer01: something is goin wron in this room
krazer01: to many viruses
krazer01: wtf
krazer01: wfefsd

(krazer01 feels his machine heating up, then, realizing he has but seconds to live, resolutely reaches his hand under his chair and brings it back holding the pin of a live grenade. The sound of breaking wood and glass turns krazer01's head to his door where DRM Agents are amassing, weapons drawn. End Scene)

Things like this are so inane they shouldn't exist - and so obviously fake that they DON'T exist but for the money it takes to pay someone to type a few times a day during peak downloading times. Now, I've become more aware of the technological fear campaign involving computers recently mostly because I've reached a point where I can safely discern what is and what isn't possible with a computer. For those of you who still aren't sure, here are a few examples:

Possible: You accidentally delete all your vacation photos
Impossible: Computer dislikes your important files and decides to get rid of them

Possible: You install some goofy software that hijacks your browser
Impossible: Computer picks up your wallet you left while jogging and emails your financial information to heads of world crime syndicates

Possible: There is like, a ton of porn on the Internet and your kids find it
Impossible: Computer traipses through your house during the night clubbing your children

Let's get a handle on this.

Vegan Banana Ice Cream in under 10 Minutes

2008-01-09T22:29:00.000-05:00

Two days ago, in typical spontaneous form, Jocelyn lept up and started cutting a banana into segments, wrapped it in plastic wrap, and before I could ask what she was doing, the whole thing was in my freezer. She would explain later, she said. I soon forgot about it.

Tonight she took the frozen banana chunks out of the freezer and blended them into an icy mush which we scooped onto a plate and added the following ingredients (you can add your own):
- Cocoa Powder
- Vegan Chocolate Yogurt
- Cinnamon

The texture was almost exactly like Ice Cream. I suggest this great and simple recipe if you're looking for something to turn heads at your next party! Good idea, Jocelyn :)

Man Builds RSS Feeding Tube, Results Do Not Validate

2007-11-20T23:08:00.000-05:00

WASHINGTON, DC - A curious, well-meaning developer went off the standard human diet of food yesterday and began consuming a forced intake of concentrated information marking the first step of his shocking and controversial effort to become one with the Internet. Although still technically closer to cyborg than he would care to admit, his confidence remains unshaken despite weeks of skepticism by online friends and household pets leading up to his decision. Minutes before the appointed moment that was to signal his departure from ordinary existence, exasperated co-workers were seen waving fiber optic cables and copies of Gray's Anatomy. When asked to comment, he threw a parsing error and offered no assistance.

Digital Love Sample

2007-11-07T00:16:00.000-05:00

Tonight I had enough and decided to do something about my fascination with Daft Punk's "Digital Love". So I took it apart, at least my favorite part, the driving baseline that comprises the second half of the song. I provide it here as an MP3 in the hopes that you, good reader, will snag it and mix it with something, anything other than Kanye. Cheers!

Digital Love Loop

A Time-Delayed Rant about Time-Delayed Communication

2007-10-17T09:57:00.000-04:00

Ted (7:09): Are you always online at 7AM? I am relieved by your lack of response.

Brandon (9:47): Oh, hells no. For example, at 7 am I was tearing my eyes out over a FaceBook misunderstanding at. 7:30 I was huddling in my shower, trying to get the stink of social networking off of me, but still it persists. At 7:45, I was denouncing all forms of non-verbal communication. By 8 I had imagined a world without the internet and started organizing my militia.

Ted (9:48): For some reason its even worse to be misunderstood via the internet. I think its because of all the time that passes between the misunderstanding and the correction, if any.

Brandon (9:49): Yes, it has time to fester. But even so the same rules apply - they just slow down, like floating in space.

Ted (9:51): Right, still obeying the laws of the universe yet not (perceptibly) hurtling toward the surface of the earth. And people should give the benefit of the doubt because they should be aware of the potential for misunderstanding and sorrow.

Brandon (9:55): And sorrow. Man, I'm so quoting this conversation.

Ted (9:56): heh

Ask.com - Now There's Even More to Not Use

2007-06-20T21:32:00.000-04:00

You might have noticed the recent Broadway-esque commercial spots for Ask.com. I know I have. I think Ask.com has purchased at least 2.35 spots for each man, woman and child in the United States in a attempt to attract attention away from all the better search engines and focus it on theirs. If I was to pick a suitable metaphor for the amount of desperation I'm getting from Ask.com, I would have to go with being a single guy out at a bar at 2:47 when your every move is being noticed by something like 90 guys who so want you to be anything other than another dude. So, um, what Search Engine are you going home with tonight?

At this time, I am completely ready to get drunk with Google, fool around a little just inside the kitchen doors, take it home, and finally, make a serious of deliriously irresponsible miscalculations leading up to probably some very real consequences we both are unequipped to deal with. That's my comfort level with my search engine and I'm not even a technology zealot - I'll use the best thing it if demonstrates its value to me. My recent experiences with Ask.com proves why I'm totally fine with it buying me drinks all night but if it thinks it can slither over to dance with me and my friends, it has another thing coming.

Here's a typical example of how Ask.com is just not cutting it; their latest commercial featured a dancing cavalcade of crazy kill-faced Kato Kaelins and a woman orgasmically proclaiming she found what she wanted (what did she search for, washed-up sofa-crashing crack-heads?). If you're anything like me you are probably thinking to yourself, "Hmmm. Would I go totally ape-shit getting search results for a complete douche bag?". Instead, I prefer to do searches like the following:

"bug bites up my leg"

Let me explain: last night a gang of wayward army ants, driven mad by the combination of humidity and pot smoke in Columbia Heights made its way through my bedroom, stopping to feast on my lower regions. So I did the only thing you do with an embarrassing situation: I looked for someone else who has written about it on the Interweb. When I gave this phrase to Google, it returned the following as a first result:

"Yahoo! Answers - Bug bites??I woke up and I had multiple bug bites?
10 answers - So I went to bed and then woke up with bug bites on my leg and one on my arm.The bites are swollen are letting out puss???AHHHHH!!!"

Okay, my leg is not pussy. That's gross. And apparently I don't have a Staph infection which is really great. But let's look at what Ask.com turned up:

"Rock Climbing Forums: Climbing Information: Injuries & Accidents:
karma Oct 6, 2005, 10:48 AM Post #1 of 42 (4576 views) Shortcut ... Re: I broke my leg, please cheer me up."

Way to let me down hard, Ask. Technically, you deserve credit for getting "leg" correct, but you were just rolling the dice with the rest of it. Here's your second result which by nature is supposed to be less accurate anyway:

"GlobalPaw - Dog Communities and Dog Forums
I hate to bring up such a topic but I am concerned about my nine week old pup. When he gets excited he often jumps up onto my leg and bites the..."

WHAT THE HELL DOES HE BITE??!? Again, you totally obfuscate my search with the added insult of bating my interest with an unfinished story about testicle damage. Although I have to admit I did forgot about the bites for awhile but only because I'm feeling phantom jaw-pressure on my sack which is only a slight improvement overall.

See, my theory is that if you have something good, you don't really have to tell people about it, they'll figure it out. Pretty soon Google is going to allow me to search my imagination. And when that happens, there's no algorithm on earth that's gonna save the likes of Ask.com.

Take this Jackson Pollock

2007-03-28T23:41:00.000-04:00

I'm drunk and this is called "Every Photoshop Brush I Have". This took, eh? 15 minutes? Time well spent. Soon I'll be exhibiting at the Hirshorn but I won't let anyone in because I'll have already given out all the tickets to Gallery owners, their friends and their friends. Deal with it.

Kick Ball Trash Talk

2007-03-23T10:21:00.000-04:00

I guess we're getting closer to Spring because in DC that signals the beginning of Kick Ball registration - for the hardcore players, that is. I've been playing for around 3 years and each season I'm impressed by my experience. For a little insight into what it is, I have compilled some trash talk from previous seasons when I played with The Beatdown - bear in mind, the teams have odd names and the locations may not be familiar to you. Anyways, these were featured in "Ghost Man on Third", the weekly WAKA Kick Ball newsletter:

8/4/05 (After our game at Nolan's Bar in Adam's Morgan)
"...I have to point out the creativity of Nolan's bar staff, who used mostly found objects and raw material to build flip cup areas - several times, you guys came dangerously close to an actual table. When I first arrived, I didn't know whether to play or build a shelving unit, but thankfully Kickballers like to drink heavily and irresponsibly, and I soon got over the awkwardness of the new venue. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship..."

8/14/05 (At Adams Mill in Adams Morgan, "Off in Public" is this Cobra-kai-like team and everyone hates them)
"...Amanda, our charming, even-tempered second baseman, at some point during the night transformed into a one-woman wrecking crew, dealing out flip-cup justice to any and all who foolishly engaged her at the table. Fade in, back of the bar, 7 "Off in Public" flippers and one Amanda. What happened next is the stuff of legends: Amanda quickly downed and flipped two beers while "Off in Public" denied some 300,000 years of evolutionary intelligence by forgetting how to drink. Amanda dispatched another 3 beers while OIP busied themselves transitioning from a hunter-gatherer society into one based on agriculture and trade. The last of Amanda's cups hit the table and a roar went up from the Beatdown. "I've never really been good at anything my entire life, but I seem to have found my calling", says Amanda..."

8/29/06 (The team "Real Men Wear Green" hating on our drinking skills)
"...Real Men, I just saw your review of the last minutes of our so-called "game". I don't claim to be a crisis counselor, nor do I play one on TV, but here's what I gather from your unnecessary blow-by-blow description of what MAY have happened: as desperate as that story sounds (and we're talking 37-year-old-fiance-left-at-the-altar-desparation here), Real Men are even more frantic to cling to any morsel of glory from having stood at the same table as the Beatdown. We were open all night, and all you could bring were two players. You whine like some grade-school kid, freshly beat up by a fifth grader, sitting in the principal's office on the phone to your mommy. Let's match up again, and this time, we'll have a proper game with witnesses instead of an imaginary tea party in happy-fairy land..."

You Guys Just Don't Get It

2007-03-09T21:21:00.000-05:00

What's a quick way to turn someone off? For one, tell a racist joke. It's foolproof, especially if that person is a perfect stranger. The reason this works so well is because a) you have to be really sure of yourself and b) assume the position your taking is immediately understood and accepted. The old punch-in-the-arm "am-I-right?" routine. There's a word for this: ignorance. Ignorance to a point of view not held by yourself. And if you think it's awkward by the water cooler, imagine what happens when a corporation makes the same faux pax in plain view of millions of citizens.

In March's issue of Wired Magazine, I ran into a full page Chevron Ad entitled "There are 193 countries in the world. None of them are energy Independent" which features (we're supposed to believe) the cluttered desk of a well-meaning Chevron employee whose concern with the environment has led him or her to leave their hastily compiled notebook open for a picture-perfect snapshot. It couldn't be any more contrived, but that's the visual language corporations are using to speak to us lately. What I was drawn to was the incredibly disappointing and frank message in the notebook, pictured below:

I don't really know where to start with this but I'll mention a few things that really tick me off. For starters, way to really abstract the entire energy debate. According to Chevron, just because Saudi Arabia imports refined petroleum it means that "energy independence is an unrealistic goal". Well, that's great to know, let's just throw in the towel. If I sometimes come up with a demonstrably bad idea, I should just stop thinking altogether. Obviously I should leave that to someone else more capable, someone with delicious Kool-Aid. The advances we've made in clean energy are scaring the crap out of currently entrenched energy companies. So they disparage and brow-beat instead of admit they are behind. Hey, you're invited to the party, Chevron - don't hate, participate.

And also, what is this unapologetic suggestion that energy security (what the hell?) will be "a result of... engagement"? Like the kind of engagement that silenced Ken Saro-Wiwa? Or the kind of engagement that involves Nigerian soldiers using a Chevron helicopter and Chevron boats attacking villagers in two small communities in Delta State, Opia and Ikenyan, killing at least four people and burning most of the villages to the ground? Because it sounds like that. And even if that's not what was meant, the implication is creepy.

Finally, that line about flowing "freely across borders"; this is the final straw in my opinion. Corporations are not accustomed to dealing with the traditional idea of "countries" and "geography" being that they often are able to import and enforce their own rules rather than those already in place. Saying this outright in the ad means they really don't give a damn about Human Rights regulations in developing nations or ecological concerns at all - after all, who can bother with these things while they're flowing lugubriously from place to place? And how about that metaphor - "flow freely", like oil itself. I kinda want to puke its so blatant.

I for one am pretty impressed by the climate we live in that would inspire any company to write such a bold-faced confession of one's ideals so plainly and so candidly. At least they aren't hiding anymore. Maybe we should be opening up more notebooks over there at Chevron.

Kind of what a "Design Agency" is like

2007-02-07T21:45:00.000-05:00

I wanted to share a few things that happened this and last week at work, just because a) I like working there and b) it's not traditionally what you'd consider a work environment:

Thing 1: I pass a guy, my age, in a business suit waiting in the lobby, clutching his suitcase and BlackBerry. We exchange glances. This is what we communicate:
Him: (frown) You're my age. You are wearing ripped jeans.
Me: Yes. You don't look like you're having too much fun.
Him: I am slightly jealous although my calendar doesn't allow for it.
Me: I'm going to go ride a razor scooter now.

Thing 2: My boss punches a wall and screams at receptionist. It's true, he has a temper and also abruptly enters our office and authoritatively grabs community Cheese-Its from my desk. But it's okay: those Cheese-Its are a small price to pay for my life and as long as there's an average of 15 people between him and the back area, by the time he gets there, he'll have forgotten that we're all pretty much children and draw cartoon characters of each other when no one is looking.

Thing 3: I buy Magic Grow Sponge Capsules. Ben and I go to ToysR'Us to get him the new "Scrabble" (they've added a letter) and I get gag gifts for the office, including a set of stickers for Tyler that say "Taylor" (and feature decidedly non-gender-neutral decorations) and purple silly putty. The capsules come out lame but that doesn't stop half the office from so wishing they had one.

Thing 4: Our office is evacuated. A water main breaks downstairs and floods the Porcelanosa tile showroom which starts a small fire which we ignored for about an hour. Then Johnny Fire-Department makes us leave. I still say the safest way to exit the second floor (in case the stairs are unusable) is to have everyone remove their pants so we can tie them together and lower ourselves to safety. Story at 11.

Thing 5: We decide to bring back Lunch Swap. It's a kind of lunch potpourri, if you will, and also a mid-week exercise in game theory; if everyone brings great lunches, everyone benefits. Otherwise someone gets stuck with the banana and vending machine granola bars.

Thing 6: Totally serious client sees my Facebook profile as part of totally serious meeting and reads everyting in .2 seconds. To illustrate "Social Networking" (uh-huh), I offer to log in to Facebook, not rembering recent wall posts and their relative unprofessional nature. Realizing my mistake, I scroll around madly instead of lingering on anything, trying to show what I'm talking about but not allowing for any specifics about me or what I do with animals in my free time to be read. I am judged but do not care. If anything it adds to the confusion; yes I am building you a 20K web site and I am not normal. Also, you are sitting in a giant, orange-velvet hand we call "The Molestation Chair". Just groove on it.

8th Annual Rosemont / Delafield MLK Weekend Party

2007-01-12T14:01:00.000-05:00

Welcome to MLK Weekend, the time when Columbia Heights and Mt. Pleasant rallies around Rosemont and Delafield houses for what amounts to an entire weekend of fun, frolicking and house partying.

The details have been centralized this year at the new web site for MLK Weekend: http://mlkparty.googlepages.com/

The highlight of the weekend is the Sunday Night dance party at Delafield, not far from the Georgia Avenue/Petworth Metro stop. It's usually packed, a lot of fun and lots and lots of alcohol is provided. There is a suggested donation at the door or on your way out but this money goes to a charity deemed worthy by Rosemont (last year it was Anacostia River cleanup I think).

Recap of last year's party

We'd love to see you there!

The Best Things About 2006

2006-12-28T23:51:00.000-05:00

With the New Year staring us straight in our fat, desert eating faces, I felt like it was time to recap some of the highlights of the year in a sort of "Best-of" format. There might be a celebrity appearance and maybe some juicy gossip. Without further ado, I give you:

The Best Things About 2006

Best Collection of Days Dedicated to a Carnivorous Animal: Shark Week
While the Audubon society continues to put out their yearly "Bald Eagle" stamps (you bastards) and although home coming at UF is a force to be reckoned with, land dwelling animals just cannot hold a candle to a rampaging Shark. Thank you Discovery Channel for bringing such dramatic, meaningful television into my life during a time when all I could do was kill my roommate with my mind every 20 minutes.

Best Concert: The Hold Steady, Black Cat, Washington D.C.
We can debate this but I was there so it will be hard for you to understand. I think everything about that night was awesome, even the 7 dollar beers which I usually can't stand, upon which floated my imagination for 2 hours whilst power-chord ripping angels or rock-transcendence beat me about the head and shoulders (literally), making me feel both cynical and childlike at the same time about the Mississippi River, past girlfriends and growing up. Not to mention the 20-minute finale during which about 30 people and I were pulled up onto the stage, surrounding Craig Finn while he lay on the floor singing "Stuck Between Stations". Wayne Coyne only rolled around on top of the audience. This guy sprayed us down with Jim Bean. Tough Call.

Best News: My Brother Getting Married
Followed closely by: I'm going to be an Uncle. Talk about growing up. But you know, my brother's going to be a great father and I will be an even better uncle - the only one he/she will have, so really, we're stuck with each other. Next year: Really loud presents, the kind that drive mommy and daddy up the wall.

Best Flop Joke To Tell to A Group of Women in a Bar: "Why did Julia Roberts smear feces all over her face?" as told by Victor Aguilar (pick a bar)
The answer is anything, it doesn't have to make sense; the point is that you hate Julia Roberts. And I learned something this year, which is that most women actually like her. I think Pauly Shore was punched out after telling this same joke.

Best Old TV Show released on DVD: Airwolf
Hello? Could it be anything other than Airwolf? You have Stringfellow Hawk (and here I should just stop explaining myself; if you aren't on board at this point, I don't know what's going to do it) who steals a stealth helicopter from the military and proceeds to fly around the world hooking up with Deborah Pratt. SPOILER ALERT: Marella, played by Pratt, was a real woman, not some Bond floozy - and a computer programmer so you know she pretty much made Hawk feel stupid for all 15 episodes she was in, but really, that's what a hot woman is supposed to do. And then you kill her.

Best Field Trip: Two-way tie
Manhattan, NYC for the Save Darfur Rally and Chicago, IL for Jocelyn's Halloween Party
Between falling asleep on a rock in central park after passing out bagels to foreign nationals and seeing Phantom with Rob on Broadway (not to mention crashing on the sofa of a newly-wed Orthodox Jewish couple), my last trip to the Big Apple will stay in my mind for a long time. But I also made it out to the windy city for the first time where I ran into Ted and CJ and helped throw a pretty large Halloween party in North Ashland. Not too shabby for an out-of-towner.

Best Continued Occupation of a Foreign Nation: Canada
You maple-leaf flag waving bastards. If that syrup ever dries up, you know who's coming for your ass - Mexico, and we're not even doing that great a job of stopping them right now.

Best Naked Celebrity Photo Let Down: Britney Spears
Before I switched to a straight razor, I sent several photos of my face and what this electric shaver had done to me to Norelco and it was enough for them to apologize and send me not one but 2 razors free of charge. When I received the photos of Spears stepping out of Paris Hilton's car, I immediately cried inside because I was looking at the same scabby, pockmarked scar tissue over which I had threatened legal action. Seriously, I haven't seen intestine that abused since the UF-Arkansas game. So ends roughly 8 years of masturbatory fantasy; she's disgusting and my face is fine. I think I came out of that one all right.

Best Beer Its Okay to Hate: Pabst Blue Ribbon
This will be short: TO ALL WASHINGTON DC RESIDENTS MY AGE OR YOUNGER; Pabst is not trendy and you can't make it so. It is cheap for a reason. This is about the only thing my father and I agree on. So stop with this.

Best Party I Attended: Lissy's St. Patrick's Day party on Euclid, Adams Morgan D.C.
Ted can attest to the complete imbalance of propriety we displayed that evening; green beer and live bands, plus "Kiss Me I'm Irish" shirts tend to make for a lively evening. I think we went to something like 2 bar crawls and a parade that day, finishing strong somewhere near the Potomac with Ted being completely sure that he was in love with some girl whose name he couldn't remember. DC, in many ways you are like a protective playpen although technically mostly iron and granite.

Thank you, 2006! You were a pretty great year and you're still with us at the time of this writing. Maybe we don't have to end; maybe we can keep running into each other at parties. I have your number.

An Abridged List of Some Things I Find Insincere Which I May Regret Saying In The Very Near Future

2006-11-18T15:07:00.000-05:00

According to my cell phone which reliably updates itself to the current timezone wherever I go, it was 12:38 when I started feeling pissed off. I know this for a fact because it was then that I overheard a group of inebriated 20-somethings recounting the number of drinks and their total tab as if to convince themselves (and nearby passengers) that their night was sufficiently pleasurable. At 12:42 I am incapable of interpreting any cadre of relatively well-dressed young women as anything other than a rehashing of some Sex and City episode. I couldn't place this particular scene unfolding in front of me in the embodiment of 3 dress-wearing, drunk, waddling women owing to the fact that I am fairly certain none of the plucky principles of that show had ever been body-checked over an escalator, as was vividly occurring in my mind. As I do in these times of estrangement, I try to remember all the good I bring to the world. In that vein I present:

An Abridged List of Some Things I Find Insincere Which I May Regret Saying In The Very Near Future

#5: Public displays of Anger - we get it, you're delicate and instead of finding an outlet for your angst / missing Netflix DVD's / Grey's Anatomy upset, you have to let some poor Asian Grandmother have it in line at your neighborhood Post Office. Let me share something with you: you can be shot. Any police officer can do it and I pay them for this - taser, pellet sized sand-bag, whatever. You're only ever this close to having someone totally misinterpret your grown-up fit-throwing for The Worst Case Scenario involving you alone in a late night convenience store check out line laying out an escape plan to Canada with about 5 cop cars outside. Cake-baking Christ, get a handle on things.

#4: Saying "I Feel You" - despite the immediate distrust I have for anyone who tells me they understand me after only a short time, I have always found this statement to be empty and vapid unless it is used to really connect with someone. Otherwise, it becomes a worthless pick-up prefix. You don't feel me anymore than I feel the inside of my eyelid and if you do empathize, you'll find clear way of letting me know, hopefully with tongue (chick) or beer (anything else).

#3: Talking To Thin Air As If Anyone Is Listening (also known as Narrating Your Own Life) - here's recipe for irritation: take your typical post-collegiate, pumped up with a youthful arrogance, equip with cell phone and surround with social friends who "support" her and see if a kind of irritating tendency to tell everyone what she's doing doesn't quickly surface. Seriously, I can overlook the first couple of times when you wake up in the morning and recount all the inane things you're going to do that day, but reading the cookbook out loud? Reminding yourself to call your sister through the living room wall? If a bookcase falls on an attention-seeking sycophant and no one is around to hear it, do her up-to-the-minute accounts of spinal injury make a noise?

#2: Breaking an interpersonal boundary then pretending you're sorry (and didn't know) - in theory you can do this as many times as you can count the number of people you currently hold as close friends. In reality, most people taste blood in the water and inform their friends of your retarded solipsism. How many times do you think you can jank your friends' cell phones and delete phone numbers of people you don't think they should be socializing with before you've "helped" them into hating you? This leads me to...

#1: "That's Just Who I Am" - I had a roommate freshman year in college from the booming metropolis of Fayetteville, NC. Things started off well but the night our cars were towed and he slammed his meat-hooks into the hood of my reclaimed sedan upon my return (to help him get his car), things took a turn for the primitive. As he explained later, that was "just who he was" which led me to think that he would just as soon break a chair over my head as pass the salt. Talk about a lazy substitution for any kind of accountability. And don't think this behavior is exclusive to meal-planners - it extends well into adulthood. When this miracle explanation is offered to me it is usually attached to a personal behavior on which it might not be so difficult to reflect and accept light criticism such as: hitting on your friend's boyfriend(s); being arrogant instead of plain old confused; needing overwhelming attention; removal of unsightly lip hair; constantly needing structure; singing falsetto on all songs, always. Consider the irony of the cripple who is beaten by his own crutch (figuratively, literally) and know that "the way you are" isn't the way you'll always be unless you make it so.

Instant Impossibility

2006-10-23T10:32:00.000-04:00

(Brandon signs on, 10: 34:27 10/23/06)

kudoc492295069: If you want the best blow job you will ever receive! Just im me an email at lusty_grl04081

Brandon: How are you going to give me a blowjob online? Don't get me wrong, I'm not questioning your unique skill set, its just that I am not aware of the existing technology that would allow something this awesome to take place over instant message.

kudoc492295069: ... (typing)

Brandon: Is this Mark Foley?

kudoc492295069: ... (typing)

Brandon: Wait for it...

kudoc492295069: Hey cutie you. mouth on your hardon? Just hit me up at lusty_grl04081. Why not!

Brandon: Well done! I recognize all of those words!

Old People Fed Up With Life Take Out Misery, Oldness On Me: Part 2

2006-09-10T13:32:00.000-04:00

12:18 PM King Farm Safeway, Rockville, MD August 6
Standing in line at a Starbucks is pretty near the most American thing you can do besides trying to follow your kid's little league baseball game you're missing on your 2-way over the din of the evening metro commute. You heartless so-and-so. And it really was only recently, within the last 6 months, that a co-worker at my old job made me even think of approaching the Church of Coffee let alone adopt a favorite drink (Grean Tea frappaccino - what, guys drink that). So on this day with very little coaxing, I acted on the Pavlovian response and found myself ordering and then watching as the two employees diligently worked on not only my order but also the previous two.

As the instrumental version of theme song to "Greatest American Hero" played over the loudspeakers, I kind of zoned out as I'm prone to do in these situations. It's a little embarrassing to have to watch people work for you, especially if you understand commodities or have ever worked in food service. It would be one thing if the money freshly debited from my account were going directly to them but as it is, the whole thing is kind of foggy and when I have to pretend that neither of us knows what's going on its easier to convince myself that their happy ambivalence is more a product of their New Employee Training and not a genuine human response to coffee making.

About half-way through some good foam-sculpting action, I hear an irritated, shrill voice to my right say, "Is this the new thing here? Is this the new thing, not to wait on the Customer?"

So I turn and I see the voice - it's coming from an aging Grandmother woman, like the old lady in those greeting cards. She's standing at the register, clearly watching the employees bustling about in what is seriously a floor space the size of a closet. A normal person with even a modicum of human decency could sum up the situation in the following words: "They are busy and I will wait patiently."

I kind of lean over, smile and say innocently, like I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt that she really doesn't understand how to queue, "Oh, you know what it is... I think there's only two of them, so yeah...".

She replies, more to the employees than to me, with condescension thicker than caramel drizzle, "There's ALWAYS two of them. And they never wait on anyone."

The foam began to bubble over and I decided to press on, given the obvious and now comical aspect of the situation.

"So, okay," I say. "I guess you can give them a break."

Three Summers at Denny's, two years at Wild Waters and that freshman-year month at Arbie's where my manager's name was "Frog". Sticking up for the blue-collars, that's me.

Things got real, just then, and she turned to me. Random giggles from onlookers and I noticed one of the girls working on my green tea was smiling quietly to herself.

"Don't tell ME what to do," the old-coot said, then for affect, she upped her voice to a nice volume so you would think I was physically assaulting her, "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO."

I motioned to the employees like, "Hello?" and she advanced on my position. I did one of those slight backsteps and looked to my left and right, like to find a quick exit, but I was blocked in between counter-top and Akeelah and the Bee.

"Sir, SIR...!" I'm right here, you finger-wagging harpy-queen.

"...I make it a point to examine the credentials of anyone who would tell me what to do, and you, sir, can DROP DEAD."

Well, I make it a point to steel myself in an argument for any possibly damaging rhetoric and I'm not really sure what the hell you just said but it sure as shit sounds funny. How can I be mad at you? YOU'RE SO CUTE! Come on, knit me a Colostomy Bag? What do you say?

That was pretty much it, but I did laugh, and so did the people around me, and before I walked away I said, "You're just a ball of Sunshine, aren't you?!" With my credentials now sufficiently examined, I went off to have my head examined, because I had to have day-dreamed that.

An Ode to Rockville

2006-08-06T10:13:00.000-04:00

So, it is official - as of yesterday I'm set to move into a co-op house in Columbia Heights. It's a really groovy place with some characters right across from Wonderland Ballroom. I have mixed feelings about where I'm moving from, namely, the city of Rockville. On one hand, it has been good to me and frankly is a beautiful, safe and prosperous city. But that's not what I'm looking for at this stage of my life - I'm looking for an urban setting and this move represents a change not only in location but also in my mindset. With that in mind, I have written a little prose on my experience in the RV; this was at 2:30 in the morning after a trip to Brickskeller so it is probably a little angsty and critical.

(bongo drums)...

I leave you now, Oh Suburbia!
You brightly cleansed and convenient behemoth -
you bringer of status and things rat-racian
For to own a condo is divine and merciless;
Fake stodgery and uniform dress
with daffodilian readiness, thrown lawns and pitched gardens,
ghoulish stares and syntactical fences.

I loathe your dwellings, your partial life
your promise and deceit;
Your half-hidden corridors and persons half-sketched.
The repeated affronts to my sensibilities
will take a lifetime to recover from.
But only a day to leave behind.

I bury my feelings for you here, now,
amongst the carcasses of other times, places and contexts.
Forever to wreak of American similarity
in tightly packed honeycomb -
delivered overnight if the price is right!

People cut from a magazine of men's fashions.
The occasional crisis reminding and aging me
before I realize the dream is still within reach -
certainly elsewhere but not in:
a new baby,
a logo,
a checkout clerk,
a mason jar,
a firefly,
a yard no one owns,
a wall of plaster I'm afraid to decorate for fear of intimacy,
a decorative power room to impress god knows who,
a disheveled couple cleaning their car week after week;
and drowning in suburbia.

Old People Fed Up With Life Take Out Misery, Oldness On Me

2006-07-29T02:34:00.000-04:00

I'm amazed at the recent rash of inexplicable and hilarious behavior of my fellow Montgomery County Residents (or "MCR's" as all previous Alachua County Residents or "ACR's" are prone to abbreviating). I've felt like I'm in some kind of anti-personality fight zone for the past 3 weeks based on some of the encounters I've had which I'll recount here for posterity as well as shear novelty, in three posts.

-------------------------------------------

2:47PM Verizon Parking Lot, Gaithersburg, MD July 8
While coming around one of those irritating roundabout intersections some french-curve loving architect decided to use to merge 10 roads into 4 entrances to adjacent parking lots, I put on my blinker to move into the lane that led to my exit. I got over, turned around briefly and did that "thank you" open plam head nod thing to thank the motorist because we're all dealing with potential motion sickness and she really didn't have to let me over. I drive deep into the parking lot allowing at least 2 pedestrians the right of way (one with a stroller) and finally into an empty area, no cars from at least 2 rows. Its then that I notice the car from the intersection has pulled up directly behind me and its pilot is a middle aged, slightly overweight woman (the kind you'd see getting Hagaan Das with her equally well-proportioned and collectively miserable friends).

I want to describe a little bit about how I see the world. It is not without cynicism that I cling to the notion that I will definitely witness some type of weirdness unfold before my very eyes. It's more like I deeply crave it but am resigned to be unfulfilled with my normal, daily intake, and even then mostly from the internet. And the people in my general surroundings manage to keep themselves fairly well in line: no toilet paper on the shoe; very little sitting on benches with clearly marked "wet pain" signs; even less instances of poorly serviced neon signs forming offensive words unintentionally. But I hold fast to the idea that I could find myself in the middle of an ironic situation or even the victim of one. Thus, when a situation goes from being normal to "slightly un-normal", I take special joy in being able to push it completely over the edge and see what happens. In suburbia, what can it hurt?

It's for this reason that I purposefully sat in my car for something like 30 seconds, pretending to mess with my phone while secretly watching her cock her pudgy neck at me in my rear view. I figured this would communicate that a) I was fully aware of her but didn't care or b) I was unaware of her because she's not important enough to notice. After a short time of feeling her out, I opened my car door desively and stuck out my foot, but hung there, watching as her car door opened in response to mine, but she kept her body inside, still watching.

This was fantastic.

So I shut my door and just looked at her, but she had already flinched - I had her, knew her game. We were shadow boxing.

My next move was to exit my vehicle and pretend to pay really close attention to where I was intending to go. No sooner had I slammed my door, she was upon me.

"You KNOW, sir..." she began, walking toward me as she tried to play off that this was all so spontaneous. "You KNOW, sir, cutting people off in traffic can get someone killed."

I laughed - so THAT'S what this is about. Cutting someone off in traffic is rarely rewarded with admonishment, more of an act of Karma. So, I stopped, paused and waited, really waited for her to continue. Then I said, "Well, I guess thank you for making your point so clearly. I agree." Hold on, she's thinking.

I paused again, then shrugged and started walking but she followed me. I wasn't satisfying her, so she baited me again, "Well, I just hope it's not a family you kill and learn you lesson from..." Jesus Christ, Lady, there's a Starbucks right over there, go eat a crueler and read something inspirational off a napkin, okay? She kept going on about me, my attitude, etc, all the way to the sidewalk - this harpy of a woman, before I told her, "I sincerely hope you have a marvelous Sunday!"

Placing Myself On Notice

2006-04-28T23:21:00.000-04:00

I responded to a listing for a group house on Craig's list by describing myself in something like
4 paragraphs, covering my job, interests, plans, personality, etc. Pretty standard stuff one would need to know about a potential roommate. I mentioned, among other things, "I'm going crazy in
suburbia", "[I'm] active with a few pick-up sports teams", and that I, "frequently enjoy social settings like parties (even throwing them)". I felt pretty confident sending it - no one could be turned off by such an amicable disclosure of one's personal life, I thought. The world I live in is made up of happy, benevolent, and interesting human beings and each connection promises new knowledge and experiences.

Here's what I got back:
"This is a serious professional adult environment, quiet, non-smoking/drugs, and we do not have parties, although one is allowed to socialize. Perhaps you may need to search for a location that is conducive to your enthusiastic environment. Thank you for your inquiry."

Damn. He didn't mention the animal sacrifices I specifically asked about. This guy took me apart, and for good reason - I am completely and 100% unprofessional. Now that I'm faced with it, I should just embrace my unprofessionalism.

The following is the case against me, as best I can construct, without a proper reading of "The Idiots Guide to Law".

The Facts
1. I typed the email while at work, not on my lunch break - Right away, an act most unprofessional. And he must have known, I mean, I sent it during business hours, when I should be performing mindless, repetitive task for the benefit of the hive. Also, that same day I had a fellow employee hold a Mango slicing demonstration.

2. My email contained spelling erros - how less professional can I be. I think my cell phone even has a spell checker. It's not that I can't remember how to properly spell "Horsdevors", I simply can't afford to - I'm saving space for full motion, uncompressed memory of when I finally sleep with Mila Jovovich.

3. I did not provide a bibliography - Not only did I forget to cite at least 10 sources and foolishly risk plagiarising my own life, I also didn't remember to forget that I should use inline notation, thus angering the MLA Manticore, the mythical being who meets you at death ready to punishes you for every misplaced semicolon, ever.

4. I am a Graphic Designer - art is not a profession, everyone knows that. I don't know even the slightest bit about finding, securing, or working a REAL job. Shame on me. I need to be honest and introduce myself as unemployed.

My reply, after careful consideration of my obvious inadequacies:

"Dear Sir: Yikes. I guess, thanks for the tip. No need to clarify, but that felt like a rap on the
nose. Good luck with your serious adult environment, where one is allowed to socialize. I will be
sure to toast proper behavior, vertically integrated business, and vitamin supplements at the bar tonight while enjoying my Tom Collins. Cherrio!"

All Ahead Full

2006-04-22T02:15:00.000-04:00

I feel compelled to touch on a particularly frustrating quality that I find in quite a few people, and that is the inability to commit to something. I need to qualify my use of the word "commit" here - I am not talking about committing to a loved one or committing to owning a pet. Those are decisions that take a lot of thought and should be considered carefully. What I am talking about is the kind of commitment that leads you to following through on attending an event you're invited to, or sticking around long enough to see where a conversation goes.

I guess what I mean is allowing yourself the time to focus long enough on a particular, discrete thing (person, idea, newspaper) although you think you can or can't see any value in it. Let me put this in context. Let's assume you spend an evening with an interesting guy or girl. There is nothing wrong about this, in fact it is all good, to coin a phrase from "Good Burger" (1997). You are lucky to be in the presence of someone who pleases you. What's more is, you have no clue what tomorrow will bring (except a few repeatable things) or even what will happen in the next few hours. Things could change; you could be attacked by Lilliputians, get lost in your bathroom, or even qualify for a credit card (VISA made me write that). Thus, there is little you can predict about the immediate future except a continuation, however tenuous, of the present - this guy or girl is interesting and I am enjoying them.

My question is: why halt current events instead of let them run their course? You can rest assured that our example will have an end, any number of endings, based on a slew of possible actions. I think that all too often, people want to see the end before it is time, like how we jump paragraphs in books or read the synopsis before we see the flick.

How we listen to talking heads predict the future.

There are two ways that people deal with predicting the future, both involving control - if I can predict the future, I have some control over it in a granular, decision-tree-based way. The first way is to project forward and imagine an outcome that is pleasing. In this way, optimists embrace the world through their ability to assume positive outcomes. The other way is to see either an outcome which is displeasing or unknown - unknown, in this case, is the same as displeasing because I can't be pleased by something I don't know - which frames the position of a pessimist whose outlook is often limited by an inability to overcome conceptual barriers.

Yes, you might fall in love. Yes, you might misinterpret someone's actions and learn them later. Yes, you quite possibly might be confused, heaven forbid. All of these, if you notice, are possible outcomes that one must be prepared for. By artificially limiting your outcomes through fear of the unknown you automatically limit your pool of experiences. And since you learn from experience, you are impacting your learning ability. Way to make yourself stupid, stupid. The best way I see to avoid that happening is to make all attempts to see things through, although in many cases, it is not up to you. Be receptive - be a Phillips and a Flathead - and learn to go with the flow. As an exercise, try not steering a conversation, just contributing to it. If someone says, "call me", actually call them.

Woody Allen once said, "Seventy percent of success in life is showing up". So do it and realize that the more you show up (which is to say, surrender to life by going with the flow), the less missed opportunities you will accrue and the more experience you will gain. And we can all live with that.

V for Validity

2006-04-09T02:43:00.000-04:00

A few years back, Hollywood did something amazing. They listened to their audience goers. Well, they didn't so much as listen as they responded to dropping theatre attendance, citing (of all things) dwindling interest in the quality of their product, namely the same 4 movies they kept making with the same 10 actors. This revelation was made public, is still making headlines and editorials, and (hopefully) will continue to serve as a warning to a monolithic industry that maybe what they do over there in California is not so much dictate what we like as come awfully close enough that we won't say anything. Then again, we probably don't need them anyway - we have an uncanny ability to find a way to entertain ourselves regardless of what's offered.

Cue the metaphor. A few years back, we elected to the position of president a man who ran on a platform of everything the majority of America had seen before and was comfortable with. I raised no objection at the time, was complacent with the same story line and the same 5 cabinet members, and was unaware of a drop in quality of idea and execution coming out of Washington. But something changed. I became aware of an entirely different set of ideas and began to see alternatives.

If our current administration were subject to the fickleness of our free market, not only would you see an immediate change (i.e. millions of votes, aggregated into decision making), you would also see a slew of new politicians and ideas being seeded, the result of which, I have no doubt, would be a truer version of what our founders had in mind - a pool of ideas and political innovation that would not only average out to very little government at all, but ultimately the very best it had to offer.

I want to talk about something that I've been thinking about for awhile - an idea that attempts to combine progressive thought with entrenched conservatism, based on my observations and experiences with both sides. What I'm calling "Inclusive Progressiveness" is a concept that follows from the idea that progressive ideals will probably always be challenged and held back by the oldest (and most politically and economically involved) generation. The motivation for this generation is to pull up the ladders and keep things status quo so as not to damage the well-earned lifestyle they have worked their entire lives to gain. This is to be respected as they are the reason younger people are around and if the future is to pass on to us, we owe them much more than consideration in the twilight of their lives. I will not be the one to tell my parents they no longer matter.

What does need to be communicated, or realized, (I feel) is that a lot of political issues that become important later on in life tend to be ones concerned with self-preservation as opposed to those benefiting the common good. Even issues completely unrelated to one's well-being are confused into threats, radical paradigm shift, and degradation - and in this way are highly effective. They hit their mark with the very people for whom these messages carry the most weight.

Our current generation has to make it clear through our actions, public policy, and person-to-person interactions that each one of us will take personal responsibility to care for our elders (once again) so that they can trust us to take the helm when the time comes. The "time" is amorphous, the "helm" is everywhere and the "trust" must be so well-ingrained that our elders have no reason why progressive ideas couldn't come about without opposition. Inclusive Progressiveness means including our mothers, fathers and grandparents in our lives so that they in turn will include us. It is a realization that our respect and deference will earn us necessary lee-way in the future, a veritable back-scratching that is not taking place currently and leads us all into not so much class-warfare as age-warfare.

At some point, I realize my personal ideas and concerns will no longer be completely applicable to my nation at large. It's happening already and I notice it - things that once were within my realm such as video games and toys have developed past what I knew and was comfortable with. But I don't greet this change with fear. I realize that it's all contributing to public discourse and really has very little net affect on me and my future. To this end, I will continue to vote when I get older but my votes will not be cast with my eventual demise in mind. What is usually framed as "us vs. them" is no more than a disguise for "me vs. you".

If change is constant, younger generations must create a climate in which older generations feel less need not stop it, if only to (presumably) save themselves. This would reduce the inclination to say "no" and produce a "maybe" which, when combined with the progressive "yes", is more than enough to achieve the desired affects - a slower, more American version of the "Grand March" which would have at it's center a combination of aspiration and humility, which still defines the citizens of our country today.