d u m b m o n k e y

everyday I have the blues...       2.27.06
ahhhh, well...   mebbe not every minute of every day, but some of ye might get the idea. Hey, does that simpering idiot G.W. Bush ever get the blues? Am certain he be one white man can N E V E R get the blues, know what I mean, Binky?
So there I was, doing something in what appeared as a very familiar neighborhood, not certain precisely what all the effort was about, perhaps some manner of neighborhood safety/earthquake-disaster preparedness plan had a group of us creating these medallions which would identify home or business that had a supply of water, or medical equipment/supplies, that kind of thing. Wrapping up the days work, my boss was a black man who was inspecting some of the molds poured full, shook his head at the expense of it, something about the medallions being made of silicone rubber instead of simple plaster. I then recall walking through the neighborhood, perhaps on my way home, and the air was suffused with light, a kind of magickal light that's particular and unique to the San Francisco Bay area, truly a beautiful day, and as I strolled across the street atop a hill, caught a glimpse of the city center in the distance and thought that I need to find a shortcut. Walking down the hill I came to a low building, perhaps a warehouse, a raised deck near the door I entered, large open space inside, maybe it was a nightclub, a few people scattered within, the sound of their conversation and laughter emanating from the shadows. Located a doorway at opposite side from where I entered, perhaps the way out, I thought, stepped thru and down the stars, more doors, three of them, two of them restrooms labelled Ladies and Gents respectively, so I chose the third and stepped thru to discover another door, and tried it, only to discover it fastened shut, securely nailed shut. Turned to exit and tried the door I entered thru only to discover it locked. Distressed me enough I woke right up out of that dream. Oh, but that San Franciso light that filled the neighborhood I was strolling through, that part of this dream was so emphatically real, and also I can recall (tried to set these details straight in my mind upon awakening, as this dream had been so vivid) a song I was hearing as I walked thru the streets towards that warehouse, Gillian Welch's Dear Someone. Guess mebbe I was feeling kinda homesick...
Heard from pal Coach S. in Albany, house very nearby chez d'monquis was on the market, the open house attracting a small mob of house hunters. Not sure the house has sold yet, the asking price (she included flyer made available to the Looky-Loos) was remarkable, six digits to be sure, the first one was a 7. Fucking incredible, and evidently a major cause of concern for many bay area residents these days. Damn taxes are likely taking a few years off my lifespan.
Little while back was watching some C-Span and caught taped bookstore appearance by John Perkins, author of Confessions of an Economic Hit Man (oncet again, not a registered NY Times user? Then BugMeNot is for you). So, ourowndamnedself likely to take much of what Mr. Perkins says with a few grains of salt (kosher salt, to be sure) nevertheless, you and I both know, the truth is out there, right Scully? Just got to wade thru a bunch of bullshite to try to uncover any of it. This site was mentioned in the course of that bookstore appearance, then recent Village Voice published related story, Got my own ideas as to what the cad-ministraion knew, when it knew it and why they didn't act upon it, maybe we share a few tall cold ones sometime over the summer and discuss this, eh? Take ye out for some fine mexican chow chow chow, mebbe we'll even cross the border and meet up with some narcotrafficantes for some real excitement.
enough of this for now, eh? Leave ye with item from pal Euphorbita.
A man enters a bar and orders a drink. The bar has a robot bartender.
The robot serves him a perfectly prepared cocktail, and then asks him, "What's your IQ?"

The man replies "150" and the robot proceeds to make conversation about global warming factors, quantum physics and spirituality, biomimicry, environmental interconnectedness, string theory, nano-technology, and sexual proclivities.

The customer is very impressed and thinks, "This is really cool." He decides to test the robot. He walks out of the bar, turns around, and comes back in for another drink. Again, the robot serves him the perfectly prepared drink and asks him, "What's your IQ?"

The man responds, "about a 100." Immediately the robot starts talking, but this time, about football, NASCAR, baseball, supermodels, favorite fast foods, guns, and women's breasts. Really impressed, the man leaves the bar and decides to give the robot one more test.

He heads out and returns, the robot serves him and asks, "What's your IQ?"

The man replies, "Er, 50, I think."

And the robot says... real slowly... "So......... ya gonna vote for Bush again?"

so the first rule is gonna be...       2.21.06
the month will have to be designated by an even digit and the day by an odd and what the fuck is He talking about anyway. Those of ye who visit hereabouts in any manner of semi-regularity (hey! Remember Serutan? It's Natures backward!) know that the tired ol' fool behind the curtain has a definite tendency to avoid the first person, and that (for myself at least) troublesome pronoun 'I' is one that we're (ahhh, there we go again) are loath to use, for many reasons, some of which we've (bear with us -- oops -- now...) gone into at some length hereabouts previously. I got to thinking tho', that perhaps oncet in a great while, just to make sure that I was still capable of such a thing (ye have NO idea how many times in a conversation with someone our habitual habit of utilizing 'We" has caused some consternation and confusion in the mind of the person we'd be conversing with) --- ANYWAY, so every now and again, and that first rule mentioned earlier will apply, but I expect that there will be ancillary rules, addendum and exceptions, oh, such as maybe in a Blue Moon month Oneself might use 'I' all month long, we'll see. Got to do something to shake us -- Damn, I means myself -- up out of the doldrums I have been in on occasion recently. Watched the BAFTAs the other night, sort of by accident, doing that channel surfing thing that has become sort of a horrible habit. Caught presentation of variant of lifetime achievement award to David Puttnam, producer of many fine cinematic works. It was kind of nice to watch awards program where time constraints didn't seem as strictly enforced as you often see (the Oscars & Golden Globes come to mind...) and there was something like nearly 30 minutes of the show given over to Richard Attenborough's introduction and then Mr., or more properly, Lord Putnam's acceptance speech, which I found quite moving, particularly the anecdote he closed his speech with, alas, t'was one of those things where ye would have had to have been there/seen it. Okay then, some related material inspired by Sunday morning visit to one of those horrible big chain bookstores (am in the Hinterlands, dearie, so give me a break, please...) where I picked up some magazines alongside the Sunday N.Y. Times. From the jan/feb issue of Film Comment, Top 50 Films of 2005, but ye will have to go out and buy the issue to get a glimpse of the supplementary material the Top 50 survey was based upon. Happy to see Junebug, Me and You and Everyone We Know, and Turtles Can Fly included therein, pretty certain I have mentioned the last two films hereabouts last year, cannot quite recall mentioning Junebug, seen on DVD recently. Another film to mention which I noticed on a couple of critic's Top Ten/Dozen and recently saw, which I originally passed on due to impression of it being "chick flick" and not anything I would ordinarily be interested in, In Her Shoes. I was wrong, by the way, and seem to have developed a crush on Toni Collette. Cameron Diaz and Shirley MacLaine are also in the film, & by the way, did anyone see those wonderful pictures of Ms MacLaine in the N.Y.T. Sunday magazine piece?
Wowie Gazowies!!
Had to laugh a bit yesterday, mostly at those deeply red-state types, you know, the ones who have been more than accepting & supportive of the Bush cad-minstration, after the news yesterday regarding change in ownership of the company overseeing port operations of several major (and mostly East coast) ports. More unsettling though, to me personally, that news about the National Archives reclassification of docutments. Oh, what a tangled web those Bushies and their ilk be weaving, eh Binky? Going to leave ye with una cosa mas, from issue of New Yorker soon to appear on your newstand, The Memo.
hey, JP, you forgettin' something?
Oh yah, right. Another crush, pretty serious one too, Lucy Kaplansky
just don't get his royal heinie-ness started on Kaki King...

so, this is kind of how it happened...       2.19.06
been making more concerted effort to playing every day, the humidity thing affected us for a bit, the two guitars played the most often around here are both suffering from ignorant person resposible for their care and welfare so the Ovation is getting a work out of late. Now, by way of brief explanation, yourstruly and the long esteemed Dr. Menlo go back some years, and oncet upon a time l'Marquis contributed to both American Samizdat & SLA albeit on a somewhat irregular basis, and by the way, SLA and the good doctor may not be entirely copacetic in the workplace, ANYWAY...   rather than dwell on the why and wherefores that l'Marquis has been rather quiet on those fronts of late (and more appropriate to the reasons for posting this) when visiting fulminatia shortly after being initially introduced, link to kind girls was espied then visited which resulted in the firing of certain synapses, recalling the good Dr. and his good works. Many visitors stop in & visit el chango tonto courtesy referrals from Dr. Menlo's good works and our pointing out linky business like the SLA and Kind Girls, that's for the folks checkin' in on us here for, well, who knows precisely, but we all get the idea now, don't we? Okay then, now that is out of the way, Kind Girls got us to reminiscin' about old tune yourstruly was mighty fond of at one time, recalling it as a Buffalo Springfield tune, Kind Woman. Okay, in the background whilst this is all going on, we'd heard of new Neil Young film, Heart of Gold, directed by Jonathan Demme, and there was brief review in recent New Yorker. Alright, so, seeking tab of Kind Woman we run across N. Young related site, and - TA-DAAAAHH - mention there of streamed version of Kind Woman (including Neil) at Richie Furay's site. l'Marquis thinking two things: he prefers the original version and Wow!
cosmik symmetry again!
ooooh, almos' forgot, crush we didn't mention but Oh, we got it bad (!)
Janeane Garofalo

oh yah...       2.16.06
catherine keener...

crushes, then and now...       2.15.06
okay, we'll fess up to intending to write this post over the weekend originally, shortly after we'd read Ms. Armstrong's post re Crushes, but we spent a LOT longer at mi sobrino Miguel's track meet (first of the season, finishing first in the 800 & 1600 meter races, well done Mikey!) on Saturday (currently harvesting dried bits of facialflesh due to sunburn acquired that day), the kids over again on Sunday when we all enjoyed watching Wallace & Gromit and T. Burton's The Corpse Bride, then Meatball Monday came along, so, you see, plenty of diversionary activities to come along and distract yourstruly from any intended navel gazing hereabouts. What got l'Marquis really thinking though, after reading Gail's mention of crushes now left in the dusty detritus of the past, are those crushes that one doesn't get over, maybe cannot ever get over. Speaking for ourowndamnedself, a few of the ones dislodged from the cellar of le coeur d'Monquis would include Annette Funicello, Olivia Hussey, Gina Lollobrigida, Shari Lewis (Shari Lewis -- !?!), and Janis Joplin (whom we'd still adore from afar had she not departed this mortal coil), to name but a few. Ahhhhhh, but those who we still admire (and perhaps lust after, in an entirely non-threatening manner of course...) from afar, (and in no particular order) Chrissie Hynde, Helen Mirren, Louise Erdrich, Mary Karr, the officer's wife who will remain nameless and was secretary in office across the passageway in same building where the Alameda (Ca.) Naval Air Station Communications Center was located, who took pity on young enlisted apefellah and invited him to lovely thanxgiving day dinner so many years ago and we're going to leave it at that for now, ye can pick up this ball and run with it yourowndarnedself...

keep the jokes about balls to a minimum...       2.14.06
okay binky?
got too busy yesterday to get back here as had been original intention, but wha'the hey, eh? Occasionally yours truly gets urge to perform domestic majick in kitchen, had a jones for some pasta kinda thingie for some days previous, and as sister Victoria was dropping in for dinner and group '24' watch, we jumped into it. Sis going thru some changes, the sails of the barkentine Divorce have appeared, rising out of the horizon. Meatballs & Marinara anyone? With a halfway decent Chianti alongside? Sauce and balls all from scratch, pretty plain and simple: onions, roasted red pepper, fresh breadcrumbs, egg, and usual complement of spices making up the meatballs (tho we forgot to add parsley...). This simple marinara from Jim Harrison book mentioned in january post. Pour a liberal amount of olive oil in the bottom of a baking pan. Halve a dozen or so tomatoes and place them in the pan. Sprinkle them liberally with chopped garlic, fresh basil and thyme. Cook for about an hour at 325 deg. Chop this roughly and you have your sauce.
We added a third of a jar of leftover Ragu to the above, after draining away most of the oil (which we used a bit of to brown the balls...) plus sm. can tomato sauce. Rather than chopping manually as suggested, we utilized blender, and as we didn't have fresh basil and thyme we used veru liberal dashes of pkg'd Italian spice combo. Nicely garlicky and tasting of fresh plum tomato, the sauce turned out quite the yummy stuff. Not the first time yourstruly has made meatballs from scratch, definitely worth making a bunch if you're going to invest yourself fully in the task. This time we used hamburger and pork, roughly 2/1 ratio. Have used broken up tortilla chips as a filler on occasion, and oncet a really interesting combination of ground turkey, mushrooms, green & red peppers (roasted, to be sure), parsley, italian turkey sausage, not bad, especially if you have simmered those meatballs in the marinara. Browned and then pan roasted the meatballs this time around, with the balls on a rack over the pan bottom, allowing them to drip away much unneeded fat. Put most of them into the freezer, with nine going into the gravy for some pre-dinner simmering. By this time a certain momentum had kicked in (there was also the creamcheese pound cake companion project which went into the oven when the balls came out) and ourowndamnedself forgot foto of bowl of spaghetti topped w/ a pairs of balls in gravy, a very satisfying finished product. The poundcake? Yummy, yummy!
Okay then, this next also from the Sunday NYT, Replacing Limbs, Rebuilding Shattered Lives

always stranger than fiction...      
real life, that is, whatever real life is for thee these days. Worth staying up late last night to get the Letterman and Stewart takes on the vice-presidential, ahhhh...   shenanigans in Texass. In case ye yerself was cozy and snoozing, the Late Show Top Ten Dick Cheney Excuses. l'Marquis has heard rumour that the moron in chief, good ol' Georgy Boy has come up with new international diplomatic move and has extended invitations to Dicky's next hunting trip to Kim Jong-il, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and Osama bin Laden...

from yer pal at the hippy corner...       2.13.06
well, that's what we're called by anonymous amigo over at fulminatia, and we'll keep it brief at the moment, making a visit to ailing auntie in hospital this Am and her sister (the Momz) is awaiting. Okay, yah, it's from the NY Times, so fuckin' what. Sunday editiorial, the Trust Gap. Back later, with more, perhaps...

a few words about humidity...       2.10.06
or, more to the point, the lack thereof. Ye know how folks always saying, in the middle of the worst of the summer's heat in the desert, 'Hey, ain't so bad, at least it's a dry heat.' Okay, righty-oh, humidity is typically on the lower end of the scale in desert environs, in the summertime folks raise their indoor humidity levels somewhat when they utilize their swamp (evaporative) coolers, but in a high desert winter things can get awfully damned dry, especially when the heaters are on. Why we mentioning any of this? Well, yourstruly was wondering why his guitar (the Taylor in this instance) had notes a buzzin' up on the upper fretboard, was thinking time to visit local luthier/repair guy and find out what was wrong, maybe a new saddle, who knows. Turns out la guitarra was in need of some serious humidifying action (if you check out PDF file linked here and take a gander at the 'dry' example, well, basically that's what's happening to the Taylor) and self is shamed to admit he just didn't have much of a clue, altho' it made perfect sense. We coulda done without Senor Martin (of EPTx's Frets and Necks) coming on like some biblical prophet of doom about it, perhaps it just his nature to do so when he comes across example of utter ignorance like yourstruly. ANYWAY, we think we got a handle on it now, funny thing was that recent issue (February's) of Acoustic Guitar featured article on this very issue, which raised a very, very, very faint alarm in the recesses of our grey matter. Another addition to the "Good Reasons to Return to the S.F. Bay Area" collection, we suppose, certainly never seemed to be much of an issue thereabouts. Whilst contemplating mention of slowly murdering our guitar hereabouts, we came across some linky bits of goodness that some of ye might find interesting, the RMMGA FAQ; some Guitar & String Tips; not the one we using presently, but one we might seek out (depending on results), the Oasis guitar humidifier. Hey, never mentioned little get together that Brother Daniel set up with old pal of his from WAY back, Chester H. They invited ourowndamnedself and brother David out to Chester's Lwr Valley home for an afternoon of pickin' & grinnin' and it turned out to be pretty enjoyable affair, even tho' now and again one or the other of us would get carried away and it'd take a while to rein in the impulse to R O C K. Ennyway, might do it again sometime soon, who knows, certainly a pleasant way to while away a few hours, learn some new stuff, have a few laughs.
So, el stupido hisowndarnself trots out some story about how Los Angeles was saved from horrific terrorist attack and we are supposed to shout Hail to the Chief(dickhead) and not imagine that this timely revelation has naught to do with the controversy surrounding the legality of NSA wiretaps. Well, there be a lot of stupid folk out there who are going to buy this, ye know as well as we do, right Binky, likely be a poll somewhere or another that will support that, but we know better, eh? Be interesting to see whether Ms. Wilson will continue to contest the cad-ministration on this issue.
and ye will forgive yourstruly for nearly letting this get by us, but living out here in the hinterlands is our excuse. Gung Hay Fat Choy! What's your sign, Binky?
una cosa mas, gatos y gatitas. Steely Dan, Dirty Work tab

later, that same day...       2.9.06
whoops! s'fucking thursday, ain't it?
quickly perusing some bloggos favoritos, and discovered link to this NYT graphic 'Thirty-one Days in Iraq'; we say "Muchas Gracias Riley Dog" for the heads up...
from letter you've got waiting in your inbox if you happen to support Move On (and if you don't, maybe you better get on the wagon with the rest of us, Binky...): four links re the moron-in-chief's budget:
National Priorities Project: Impact on the States of Bush's '07 Budget;
Center for American Progress' Budget Breakdown;
NYT Editorial of 2.7.06, A Trillion Little Pieces;
from the DSCC, Republican Senators' statements against the budget;
this dumbmonkey knows one thing for certain:
be feeling a LOT better about things if we could impeach the simpering idiot

so what's shaking, ye sweet&scrumptious lil' turnips...      
fuck if we know, and don't be asking questions you know you'd rather not hear the answer to. Have to relate one thing to you, altho' a memorial service may not be, in terms of politesse and common courtesy, the place to do such a thing, it was certainly refreshing to see a certain head-of-state-who-happens-to-be-a-colossal-dunderhead be reminded of some of his (and his administration's) shortcomings, referring to some of the oratory provided during recent memorial celebration honoring Coretta Scott King, requiescat in pace.
making an effort to get out from under the weight of sumkinda wierdass funque we been in of late, maybe our choice of reading material, maybe it's watching the News Hour on PBS and seeing another nineteen dead in the evening's roll call, definitely has a lot to do with that utterly helpless feeling resulting from being witness to the Moron-In-Chief, the machinations of a republican majority House & Senate (and now, Supreme Court) and being cognizant enough to smell years of terrible bad shite down the road and heading our way, SO- bear with us a bit, dear palz o'ours, alongside those occasional drop-ins, we try a few new-ish kinda things around here and see if we cannot shake ourowndamnedself free of these damnable doldrums that have plagued us of late...