The spector of spivey

Three-day blinds

These actually aren't 3-day blinds. The photos were all taken the same day within minutes of each other using different settings.

le chien qui attendu

I think this is going to be the first in an ongoing series. You see these guys all the time. Always so patient. I see every last one of you. Here's to you, dogs.

weird manga t-shirts

I edit manga (Japanese comic books) for a living. Most of the artwork in these manga features young people wearing odd t-shirts. Can anyone explain the "automobile" one? Is that quote attributed to Henry Ford or some other industrialist regarding the advent of the assembly line? Arrogant insect is beyond any reasonable explanation. Although it IS tempting to think about which insect could be considered arrogant. Praying mantis? Naw, not them--they do pray so that means they're humble and god-fearing to a degree. Millipedes and centipedes are kinda arrogant for having so many goddamn legs. Black widow? Perhaps not arrogant--but cold and selfish--for depriving their offspring of a father. Ants are arrogant for thinking they can carry 20 times their weight. I'm hoping the great white way is a band and not an endorsement of eugenics or white supremacy.

just picture the world and imagine it's yours kid, don't ever let nobody knock you outta your orbit

from The Roots's J. Dilla tribute song "Can't Stop This"

everything does feel different

There's just something about this new results-oriented user interface that's quite simply changed my life. I don't mind coming into work anymore.

music crit realness

So anyone who knows me well knows I love reading music criticism. I almost like it more than actually listening to music. I get into the snarky, academic stuff as much as the next guy (pitchfork, anyone?), but sometimes, just telling me how the new Ghostface made you feel can be more effective than, say, a circuitous relating of the artist's vocal stylings to Foucault's metaphysics.

Case in point: an informal review of a Deerhoof album by Buddy Bell "Bud" from (who I think is like 15) on Amazon--I love how he gets at that empowering, prozac-like quality that music can have--check it out:

I just played Milk Man in the ears while I rode a bike around my neighborhood. I can't remember the last time I'd done that. Today's Sunday; I'd bought the album just the last Friday. I was bored and stuck in my house with no idea of what to do with the time. With it still being sunny outside, I grabbed my red hooded zip-up and my seven-year old brother's zorro hat and jumped on the old one-speed bike i hadn't picked up in years. As I got on the bike, i pressed play. Listening to it made me want to make a video to the title track with the video camera I haven't used nearly enough. Also while listening to it, I wanted to write a short manual on "how to get to know yourself better" or "how to gain some confidence", with the entire album being the 'soundtrack'. People that I wanted to talk to but hadn't in a long time seemed to now be very easy to talk to. Thinking of video footage to put to music wasn't as hard as it had been. The world was fun, and I was the king of it. I had chosen the roads with people out in their front yards to ride by so as to see the odd looks they'd give me. 'Giga Dance' was interrupted by an old friend's dad who was out in his front yard. He had talked about his musical ambitions (he being a 40 year-old guitarist who has a serious passion for AC/DC). We ended our conversation with him saying that I should come down and play music with him sometime. I had responded with 'I love to play music'. I went down the steep hill with the organ-ic main line of the song going. I rode through all of the neighborhood and still had the last half of the cd to get through. I got to my driveway and drove to the small field behind the shed. I passed the time by half riding, half kicking a soccer ball around in the field until my legs gave out and i fell in the patches of grass, with the moon being directly above me and 'Dream Wanderer's Tune' halfway thru. I thought about how perfect it would be to get with some friends that I haven't seen in a long time and make a film to the album.

In all, Milk Man had made me think, and I really wanted to put some action to what I had thought about.

I got home and called two people. They didn't answer, so I left messages.

They miss me?

Can someone explain the Rozerem sleep-aid They miss you ad campaign to me? For those in need of more context, the gentleman with his back to us is an insomniac. Lincoln and the beav inhabit his dreams -- "they miss" him because he's not sleeping (how then have they crossed over to his awakened, conscious state?). I don't know about y'all, but I must've missed that lecture in Jungian psych highlighting the Lincoln/beaver motif as a shared archetype of the collective subconscious.

I do, however, remember reading that Lincoln was known to have a recurring nightmare in which a family of beavers dismantled his boyhood home. I guess that would explain the uneasy look on his face.

I wish I took this photo..

...but I didn't. Almost looks like Rothko as a photographer. I would reference her blog but I don't want to get sued. Her photos are copyrighted and she might do a search and witness my shameless swagger-jacking of her shit right here. So if you want to know about a really cool photoblog, email me and I'll send you the link.

Third reich alive and well at sloat and 19th

I've long suspected the San Francisco Scottish Rite Center as being a front for the Nazi party. The architecture of this imposing, sterile structure is remarkably similar to what one would find in early- to mid-1940s Berlin.

Almost looks like a shot out of a Leni Riefenstahl film, doesn't it?

vaguely begley

I own a real estate millionaire's shirt

I bought a shirt recently from one of those upscale charity thrift stores on Fillmore for 10 bucks. The left cuff is monogrammed (JMW) and there's also a tag on the shirttail which says "Custom made for Jeffrey Wahl." I decided to give 'em a google and came up with a Mcguire Real Estate agent profile for a Jeffrey Wahl. He works out of a Pacific Heights office and has consistently achieved the Top Producer designation. I'm pretty sure the shirt was his. How exciting is that? If you don't believe me and want proof, check this URL:

http://mcguire.com/(p55xrk55a5qd3055uooukhe2)/Agent_Search/AgentProfile.aspx?
Menu=Our_Agents&Employee_Id=371

Read it and weep biotches!

warning to record shoppers...

So I'm a huge fan of that Bobby Brown song "Every Little Step I Take." I'm sure you all remember the
Richard Avedon-ish video in which Bobby, set against a huge, all-white backdrop, dances around these towering, capitalized white letters spelling out the name of the song. Great video--worth youtubing if you have a minute. Anyhow, while at Amoeba yesterday, I stumbled across a 2.99 Bobby Brown LP which had this song on it and was overjoyed. Once at home I put the record on only to realize the whole album was remixed in the fashion of those awful C+C Music Factory songs that were so popular in the days of Arsenio. Actually, wasn't one of their songs ("Things that make you go hmm") based on that segment of the same name that was a nightly fixture on his show? Or was is it the other way around?

Another recent purchase--what I thought was a normal Devin the Dude CD--turned out to be a "Screwed and Chopped" remix of the original album. This is a slowed-down production style popularized by the late-DJ Screw. Avoid these albums at all costs. The album cover did say "Screwed and Chopped," but to my untrained eye I took the warning to be merely part of the cover art.

Maybe I should launch a Tipper Gore/PMRC-like campaign against record labels for these misleading, predatory practices and ask that all these records be clearly labeled as "remixes." Who's with me?

negative databases

Read an article not too long ago in The Economist about this new concept for a database. Apparently, some fella named Hempel, back in the 1940s, took the statement "all ravens are black" and derived its negative equivalent by saying "all non-black objects are non-ravens." Some Yale (had to include that for you, Dad) computer scientists have taken this line of thought and are attempting to apply it to the problem of protecting sensitive data.

I'd try and paraphrase but those Economist writers (whomever they are--why don't they list authors' names in that magazine?) say it best:

"The idea is to create a negative database. Instead of containing the information of interest, such a database would contain everything except that information."

Try and wrap your head around that crazy-ass shit.

skeptic sceptic

How do the Brits spell sceptic as in "sceptic tank"? that is if "sceptic" is already reserved for the doubters among us-- or them--i should say... Something to think about.

addendum: you can just ignore this entire post. just realized that both the brits and we yankers spell it "septic" without a "c" so the question is moot as they say. I thought of deleting the entire post but decided against it as I like the foto.

a new leash on the criminal mind

I took this photo at a dog show of all places. Not sure if this woman was making a joke or not--ha, ha--get it? This is MY dog!--either way, not cool. Anyhow, it got me thinking about criminal profiling and John Douglas. You know, John Douglas, the FBI guy whose investigative techniques were the basis for Silence of the Lambs. His whole thing was getting beyond mere motive--and instead, profiling the type of person who would commit a certain crime. He interviewed numerous serial killers, sexual sadists and the like, and discovered that most of them had things in common in regards to their upbringing. Most were bedwetters and/or stutterers with very repressive, authoritarian mothers. Most of them, as children, enjoyed torturing and killing small animals. Perhaps most of them wore a leash as well?

'I Want Monopoly for Christmas'

Well, if that's the case, then you needn't look any further than your local christmas tree lot. Because one outfit appears to have "the game on lock" as they say in the hip hop parlance. That's right my friends, the monopoly appears to be alive and well in the US of A--thriving, in fact--in the form of Delancey Street Christmas Trees (DSCT).

DSCT operates in every state with very little competition. The competition they do have is routinely subjected to strongarm tactics and often forced to shut down. According to an affidavit on file with the Better Holiday Business Bureau (BHBB), a watchdog group committed to prosecuting nefarious pumpkin patch and tree lot operators, one man was tarred and feathered, humiliated in front of the townsfolk and run out of town.

Now, I know what you all are thinking and I'm well aware of DSCT's mission statement--they are a charitable organization pledged to assisting recovering substance abusers by providing them with a clean start--this is a noble goal. But DSCT has grown far too big for its own good. As Lord Acton once said "power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." I suggest we open the industry up to other players
--let's not be so single-mindedly devoted to one afflicted group. What about recovering pedophiles or compulsive gamblers? What about cult group escapees? Battered women? The sexually abused children of polygamists? It's important that we level the playing field of the beleagured... and on it we shall plant seedlings that will one day grow into non-Delancey Street trees.

lyrics to go

Murder one, electric chair, I don't deserve the fun--but I get the dough, shit, I might splurge on one.

Cam'ron

In-flight magazines? Still grounded...

Whenever I fly, I'll usually pick up a Details or a Rolling Stone as reading material for the trip. Bear in mind this is only due to the mass market selection available to me at the airport. Not to knock these magazines--both are nice reads--but given my druthers, at a more comprehensive newsstand, I'd most likely opt for the latest issue of Under the Radar. (yup, that's for you two, z and nick! Be sure to check for me here at the nightcap, weekly, if not daily, for you're sure to be on the receiving-end of a shoutout from time to time.) However, this time, nothing jumped out at me and I didn't purchase a magazine. I decided to take my chances with the in-flight entertainment--Southwest Airlines Spirit and SkyMall.

I have a treat for you, dear readers--the photos you see above are pictures taken from the actual issue of Spirit that I read on the plane! The first one is a piece on the boot company, Frye. I like the pun in the title "American Frye," bringing to mind the Don Mclean song, "American Pie" and the teen sex movie of the same name. It's almost as clever as the title of this post. In case you missed the deeper meaning, they're saying that the Frye boot is an American classic--much like apple pie.

The second photo is taken from the profile on Casper Van Dien, the actor who appeared in a few episodes of Beverly Hills 90210 and then Starship Troopers and hasn't been seen much since. Therein lies the logic behind the title--Casper the Hunky Ghost--he's performed a disappearing act if you will. Now, I can think of plenty of actors who've been a minor hit for second, only to completely disappear--William Zabka comes to mind (the blond guy who always played the popular prick/bully in movies like The Karate Kid, Back to School and Just One of the Guys)--but that doesn't mean they're worthy of a 4-page profile in an airline magazine. I realize Spirit isn't competing with Vanity Fair for the latest Clooney interview, but if you're doing a where-are-they-now piece, I'd suggest aiming a little higher and going for, say, a Christian Slater. Anyhow, they talk about Casper's hobbies (laser tag, cooking) and how he's now married to his high school sweetheart and owns a small cattle ranch somewhere in Montana.

The next two photos are ads actually. The first one is for some outfit called "sticklers" that sells stickers I guess. Really stretching with the aviation tie-in there. Not sure why it's even necessary. The second one is an ad for a medical practice. I'm trying to figure out why the three of them are sitting in front of what looks like an enormous jukebox. Just an extremely oddball approach marketing-wise. Doing absolutely nothing to engender the sort of trust one would want to have with their medical professional. Nor is that Rollie Fingers-looking motherfucker on the left.

So there you have it.. not a pretty picture. This is what I'm thinking--maybe we should pool our talents and start a new airline magazine. I'm sure we could inject some new blood into this moribund industry and take it into the sky--perhaps even mile-high!

Which cleaning product mascot do you prefer?

I'm inclined to vote for Mr. Clean. His appeal is more timeless whereas Brawny man is a li'l too marlboro man- and '70s porn star-ish for my taste. I'm surprised they haven't updated his look at all. Although I'm sure he went over really well during the Tom Selleck/Burt Reynolds male standard of beauty era. He also comes off as overly wholesome and square for my tastes. Mr. Clean is a bit more of an enigma. He keeps you guessing. Speaking of which, I'd venture to guess that Mr. Clean has been through some shit in his life. He looks like he's done a 7-year bid for crissakes. He's of the streets yet cosmopolitan at the same time. I'm sure he's perfectly capable of sitting down and playing some Gershwin at a cocktail party.

So there you have it -- I'm raising my glass to Mr. Clean. Brawny should save the mountain man/paul bunyan mascot for power tools.

I'm interested in how any of you women out there (all 2 or 3 of you) feel--because these products are marketed toward women. I actually can see how Brawny might appeal to middle-aged women as he looks like the kind of guy who'd have big hands. Older women seem to really go for that kinda thing.