wasn't supposed to end like this... 1.31
we referring to end of celebratory month of january,
which closes out with yourstruly under the weather,
WAY under,
that bug we'd been fighting for some little while
hit us like a freight train on wednesday afternoon, we're still picking up the pieces of the wreckage...
just two items this AM, the magnificent Mark Morford, So You Want to Go to War;
then the judicious James Ridgeway, Forget Your Problems, We're Preparing for a War.
hello again... 1.29
yah, it is hard work, tryin' to pay attention,
verifying sources, fact checking, trying to ascertain
the veracity of sources, statistics, amidst all the obuscation goin' on,
but you might try visiting Moving Ideas now & again,
like checking out this set of links re el residente's peptalk;
here's another critical look at last night's speech;
William Rivers Pitt at Truthout contributes All He Left Unsaid. yah, say, what about that Osama fellah, Georgy-Boy?
OH, nearly forgot...
it may have taken the esteemed Mr. Shropshire eons to post
at American Samizdat, but yourstruly is glad he did & thanks him for
linkage pointing to Idleworm's Gulf War 2
hello...
alright, brief mention of two items from the local fishwrap,
first, David Lazarus, re Reading between Bush's Lips;
something from Phil Frank's Farley, directed to Cowboy Georgie.
from that fishwrap on the opposite coast,
Maureen Dowd, The Empire Strikes First oh, and by the way, the new Ry C. album,
in brief, muy tasty, ese...
uhhh, did he really say "hitlerism"? why yes Binky, we guess he did...
ourowndarnself tried, tried valiantly, but we cannot watch that particular individual for more than a minute or two at
a time, something akin to vertigo or motion sickness occurs and all yourstruly wants to do is V O M I T...
later on today, after we've searched hither & yon for linkage from the best & brightest, we'll present some here,
largely related to that huge passel of lies & insincerity that el residente indulged in last night. State of the Union?
should be obvious to many, we in some serious deep shit here, boyz und gurlz, and it surely isn't the republican party that is going to make any difference at all.
& now it starts, the Great Obfuscation... 1.28
from the NYT: Bush Says Annual Address Will Outline 'the Great Challenges';
The Great Challenges? well, our primary one is ridding ourselves of el residente, that's for damned sure... btw, the usual collection of great linkage is available at BookNotes,
hie thyselves there & peruse at your leisure, some good stuff, Maynard...
the mockingbirds are back in l'Marquis' neighborhood...
for us, as sure a harbinger of spring as any,
early spring & poetry sets this primates heart aflutter...
from Poetry Daily, yesterday and today;
oh, and let us not forget, Late Winter Ralph,
for this item, in particular...
esta noticia era muy importante...
tonight, el residente's state of disunion address,
PAY ATTENTION, watch a liar at work,
okay, maybe an OBFUSCATOR
(altho we dealin' in semantics w/that),
and to make the pain bearable, we suggest you try the State of the Union Address Drinking Game 2003,
'cause goodness knows, we all gonna need a little sedative afterwards... tippin' da ol'red fez inna direction of the fine mind behind What Kind of Sick Weirdo Are You for that heads up...
yourstruly's sick unto death... 1.27
of hearing 'bout the goddamned stuporbowl, so fair warning,
next poor soul that asks me about it's gonna get a pie in the face... they got beat, Okay? Get Over It!
and personally, Congrats to Coach Gruden...
okay, so now, go read Jon Carroll, Lies, damned lies and more damned lies;
and yah, that high standards thing goes double for ourowndamnself... once upon a time, we wuz married, but we learned our lesson...
it is now sunday nite and we blame it on Jack... 1.26 what's that dumbmonkey goin' on about now?
ahhhhhh... here's Johnny
still dealin' w/this nasty bug thing...
yessss, attending to it w/plenty of hot tea, yummy soup
(hot&sour, war wonton, & plain ol'chicken) making sure ourowndamnself getting plenty of rest, and while we not altogether free of it, it seems to be held at bay, we just hoping we not in for some nasty surprise over the weekend when it marshals its forces and jumps all over us...
harking back to once upon a time hereabouts, when we indulged in something we referred to as friday follies,
now, behold the wonder of the singing monkeys; thanks to the fine minds at the b3ta collective.
hold da presses... 1.23
this item just in from an attentive minion,
(way to go crakhed Johan...)
SUNDAY 1/26, ('fore the stuporbowl), A&E TV, Hidden Treasures of Rock & Roll: NRBQ;
and who be NRBQ? gosh, you likely a youngster if you don't know (and a dinosaur if your do),
so just hie thyself here and find out
oooooohh... ugggghhh... yeeeeshhh...
no, ourowndamnself not shocked, business as usual as far as
the present administration is concerned. compassionate my big brown ass... Late Arriving News Update: 2:30 PST
"uhhhhh, maybe we better reconsider this..." someone called to inquire re "blues" mentioned previously,
and we thanks them for their concern,
nothing too serious,
but how can you not feel tremendously blue with the presence of
that incompetent lout residing in the white house currently... late arriving dumbmonkey update...
our dislike of adminstration fools extends to Rumsy, too...
oooooh, sumbuddy's paying attention...
hie thyselves towards There They Go Again,
our awareness of same provided by the fine minds at Junction City
don't get the wrong idea now...
but lately l'marquis has had occasion to have intimate contact with three women,
each of them strangers, each of them having his
royal heinieness disrobe after which they would
touch him with their hands, ask some intimate questions...
no, non, nyet, nein, nahhhhh...
is not the result of
yourstuly striking gold via the craig's list casual encounters section, but instead, appointments with his internist, dermatologist and
EKG tech, all these meetings part of the post 39th (+11) anniversary celebrated recently, sort of a major system check up, discover what is worth overhauling, what might require minor maintenance, or whether it might be best to hie ourowndamnself to scandinavia and apply for assisted suicide. NoNo, please, no letters of concern or dissuasion required,
us not seriously contemplating such a dire
decision... lighten up now, JayPea...
oooooohh... ugggghhh... yeeeeshhh... 1.21
oh yah, more o'da same, fighting off a bug & the blues,
got something lengthy in the pipeline, if the minions do their trick
and make deadline, maybe it be here for y'all tomorrow...
for now, What did you do in the peace, Daddy?,
by the highly esteemed J. Carroll, fellow Hearst Corp. employee...
oooooohh... ugggghhh... yeeeeshhh... 1.20
mebbe we gettin' too long in the tooth for this singles thing...
naaaaaaaah, believe ourowndamnself, you don't wanna know.
Thanks to great pal of ours for telling us that the latest
in the Get Your War On series is available, Go HERE;
one other item to mention, from Truthout, There's Something Happening Here.
okay, datz enuf fer now, more later on,
we be thinkin' 'bout Jack Nicholson
(saw him in a movie last nite) & our mutual need for valium these days...
what's it gonna take... 1.19
before every newspaper in the country will run this story on page one, ABOVE the
goddam fold, as the truth will continue to be buried unless we continue to make enough racket to be
heard. Did your newspaper have anything at all about the demonstrations on it's front page? If not,
write a letter to the editor and let them know you think that they are doing a shoddy job of reporting
an important story, remind them of the responsibility and legacy of a free press in this country, the
value of unbiased reportage as opposed to simple regurgitation of "facts" as provided by the white house
press office, because if you don't start making a stink now, you might as well resign yourself to the
fate you deserve, a government that is not environmentally conscious, that is responsive only to powerful lobbys and vested special interests, that has no agenda to assist the increasing numbers of economically
disadvantaged amongst us from falling into even greater depression, that shows every indication of willingness to ignore the separation of church & state, remains dismissive of the values of human liberty & dignity, and contributes to the steady & insidious erosion of human rights within it's own borders.
so hahaha, very funnneee... 1.17
exceedingly clever pal of ours attempts to make merry by sending l'Marquis a nice bottle of meta-sauce,
our regularity a matter of concern now we passed the half century mark. Oh, and thanks,
really & truly, to allofyouwho'veexpressedyourcondolences, particularlythose of you who couldn't
keep a secret and made certain that the number of visitors hereabouts would increase due to that ever eternal human impulse to slow down in the vicinity of an accident & view the carnage up close and personally...
whoooohooo and thankyouverymuch yessss we had ourselves a couple of anniversaries here, the d'monquis itsowndamnself begins the fourth year of unindictedness, & the fez-topped simian handling the levers and
smoke machine, well, we've turned thirty-nine for the eleventh time, that pretty much sums up how we feel about it. Our visit to esteemed pater&materfamilias was very enjoyably spent; somewhat distressed by the degree of obvious jesus-think that seemed prevalent, BIG billboards along the highway, the churches once recalled as small
and un-threatening now combinations of church, lodge, daycare/preschool facility covering some serious square footage, even the newspaper carries a certain "holy scent", perhaps not a worrisome thing to some, but gives us the personal heebiejeebies. Airports and air travel? an emphatic "Ugh!"
so, how has the new year treated you? Are you amongst the recently laid off, or perhaps about to be? A reservist called into the service of the oil & gas indust--- Oooops, sorry, the service of your country? Perhaps you've a niece or nephew, maybe even brother or sister making that hejira to the middle east? How do they feel about it? How do you feel about it? Mind you, this is directed to those many of you who happen by here accidentally via some search or another, not to the dedicated dozen & a half regulars making sure we don't slip up too often. S'funny thing, the use of the "Imperial We" around here: yourstruly was invited to dinner when we were still in our forties (hah!)
and whilst in conversation with neighbor at the dinner table said something like "we don't have anything too exciting planned for our birthday...", dinner partner immediately asked after that usage; someone else involved?
Children perhaps? ahhhhhh, imagine trying to explain the dumbmonkey to someone who really isn't aware of web logs and all that they are and might be. Funny thing about that "I" character, ourself's ignorant enough to not know just how many written languages have an equivalent rule re that personal pronoun, particularly the capitalization of it; don't capitalize We, right? hmmm, feelin' a headache comin' on...
Gosh knows l'Marquis happens to be quite the egoiste, and we're not fooling anybody with that everyman shite, but we trying, goodness knows,
we are trying so very, very hard, but we're weak, suppose that must be 'cause we human.
The other morning, first one after our return to chez d'Monquis, out the door at dark thirty to head to the train station for the ride into the city, while walking to the car overheard this lovely clear tenor voice singing Danny Boy, moments later noticed the fellow singing was long familiar neighbor from up the street, walking his dog, great old black lab. Once upon a time not so long ago there was a second old black
lab, and we often caught sight of the three of them out for their pre-dawn stroll, but this was the first time we heard him singing. Wished one another a happy new year then yourstruly headed for the j-o-b, while the neighbor's song stayed with us for some time that morning.
So, ahhhh, where's the linkage monkeydude? First, let us mention that the pictures of the artist adorning this waste of pixelage are from the 12.23/30.02 issue of the New Yorker which we thought nailed this business down pretty handily, despite the difference in the technology pictured. Alright now boyzundgurlz, Chewy Linky Goodness heading your way: Bday msg via another amigo from cyberville, How You Can Tell When You're Turning 50; and you know a favorite pastime around here is taking el residente to task: The Bush Record courtesy the National Resources Defense Council; here be a collection of essays on Frank Zappa out of the pages of The Big Note (during a little wayback machine exercise sometime during the visit to the scene of our boyhood fun&games, recalled listening to Absolutely Free, probably in company of Mssrs Perdue & Snow, perhaps a certain K. Sanders, talk about inspirational, talk about subversive, talk about a bunch of stoned teenagers...); now, a kinda sideways related item, a Bonanza of Great Guitar Solos. and oh my yessss yourstruly has a lot of work to do to update autreblog, but for now some chewy linky bloggy kind of goodness,
The American Sentimentalist; look closely now, and don't squint, u l t r a m i c r o s c o p i c; then, this particular page showed up in
some search we cannot even begin to recall the subject of, but happy we ran into Axis of Ævil
anyway; wethinks the worst of the lying media bastards are the ones who happen to be televised, as television be such an insidious thing, but don't let their chosen title dissuade you from stopping by Lying Media Bastards; Nowwwwwwwwwwww... we take a wide right turn into another headspace altogether and point you in the direction of these very interesting lightning photographs and then a severe turn in the opposite direction to direct your attention to America Held Hostile, then, Oh Yeah, stop the presses now, just recalled something that caught our attention a few weeks ago and will finally now link about. Out of Sierra Magazine, Are You Bigfoot? Take the quiz, l'Marquis did and boy does he have big feet. okay, so now we tippin' da ol'red fez in the direction of Riley Dog and then wood s lot, for providing chewy linky goodness leading to getunderground.com and GeoURL respectively. Maybe it's time for a St. John's Wort milkshake,
with plenty of ginkoba mixed in, but ourowndamnself cannot recall where we came across Identity Theory, sumbuddy's not gonna get proper props for the heads up and all we can do is apologise and point out the grey in our hair. Of late, we've been spending a good deal of time meditating upon the life & times of l'Marquis, that idea of the unexamined life
being one not worth living, so now we segue rather artlessly into The Examined Life.
The royal bedchamber seems awfully alluring as each minute passes, but before we bid you all una buena noche, buenos suenos, want to make mention of local event coming up 1.28, free & open to the public, at Cal's Zellerbach Auditorium, C. Hitchens &
M. Danner debate, How Should We Use Our Power?
Iraq & the War on Terror.
Basta, Basta, we hear you cry, Enough! okayokayokay, but believe us when we say we have much chewy linky goodness stashed away for another day's effort.
oh dear, we'd almost forgotten something we made mental note to ourself to mention hereabouts, 3 columns by esteemed J. Carroll, from the anniversary week, published Weds, Thurs, & Fri. Before we put ourselves to bed, here they are: Blinks and blackbirds and silences that weep; In memory of forgetting; Silence and forgetting. ciao, amici mio...
crakhed Johan heer,
me b da head minion & offyshul Minion Union Rep, apeerz dat da boss-fellah stil b rekooperatink frum hiz eckzpeeryanz wit da airlyns & alla
dat burthdey selebraytink he wuz induljeen in, so's ya stuck wit me-own-damm-self fer da tyme beeink. I nose dat da Marquis wud wanna mek menshun uf da passink uf BeeGee Bro Maurice, but ta mek eet eezee onna both youse & meeself I b poyntink ya to diss Washington Post item alonk wit diss udder menshun o'Maurice frum RockSnobs, wun uf da fyne sytez ya'll fynd at Damn Hellass Kings. ohh ohhh Ohhhhh, jess bin remyndead by fellow minion dat da bossfellah's mayd preeveeus menshun uf favorito BeeGee toone, ya ken lokate eet on da febrooerry dumbmonkey payj uf dis yeer, luuk fer
da beeg box 'bout midwey down da payj, dere alzo b linkej to Rev. Al Green vurshun uf dat toone.
crakhed Johan synink owt.
oh where oh where has that dumbmonkey gone... 1.13
hi there...
myself be a minion of El Chief High MuckyMuck, l'Marquis hisowngoshdarnedself, who ha'been MIGHTY slack wit takin' care o'bidness 'round here lately. What be his royal excuse you may ask, and quite justifiably, well, the ol' fool (bless his generous heart) has been alternately depressingly despondent & exuberantly exultant re a particular milepost his royal misanthropeness has achieved, so on the good days he been celebrating whilst upon the bad ones, waaaaal... you don' wanna know, let's just say he been AWFULLY hard on us minions...
Hey! wait a minnit!
he's right here in front of you! In Search of Mr. Right & yourstruly be charming
& handsome as all get out...
another day, a little later, yet still early in the new year...
now we really gotta lose some weight;
what a lotta horseshit this is, almost as monstrous a fantasy
as el residente's economic recovery/tax plan,
not sayink that amuurikhans are not too fat,
but let's put it this way: Our materialistic & wasteful lifestyle is
a threat to the rest of the world, not simply "national security"...
one day, early in the new year...
we were really tryin' to take a little breather from the bloggin' thing,
but sometimes something comes along & one has to make mention of it,
like this erudite & extremely well-crafted fan letter we received today... and thanks for the invitation Jim, I think I speak for all the rest of us when declining your charming invitation to "get fucked", matter of fact, it might be something You need to attend to as perhaps you had a serious lack of love in your upbringing, you poor dumb bastid...
sorry 'bout that folks, as a gesture of apology for my descent into crudity,
here's something that'll likely require more intelligence than Jim can muster: Fixed Opinions, or The Hinge of History,
by Joan Didion, from the NYRB
the evidence of psychological trauma that was December
so hahaha, very funnneee... 1.17
so, how has the new year treated you?
Gosh knows l'Marquis happens to be quite the egoiste, and we're not fooling anybody with that everyman shite, but we trying, goodness knows,
we are trying so very, very hard, but we're weak, suppose that must be 'cause we human.
The other morning, first one after our return to chez d'Monquis, out the door at dark thirty to head to the train station for the ride into the city, while walking to the car overheard this lovely clear tenor voice singing Danny Boy, moments later noticed the fellow singing was long familiar neighbor from up the street, walking his dog, great old black lab. Once upon a time not so long ago there was a second old black
lab, and we often caught sight of the three of them out for their pre-dawn stroll, but this was the first time we heard him singing. Wished one another a happy new year then yourstruly headed for the
So, ahhhh, where's the linkage monkeydude? First, let us mention that the pictures of the artist adorning this waste of pixelage are from the 12.23/30.02 issue of the New Yorker which we thought nailed this business down pretty handily, despite the difference in the technology pictured. Alright now boyzundgurlz, Chewy Linky Goodness heading your way: Bday msg via another amigo from cyberville, 
anyway; wethinks the worst of the lying media bastards are the ones who happen to be televised, as television be such an insidious thing, but don't let their chosen title dissuade you from stopping by 
The royal bedchamber seems awfully alluring as each minute passes, but before we bid you all una buena noche, buenos suenos, want to make mention of local event coming up 1.28, free & open to the public, at Cal's Zellerbach Auditorium, C. Hitchens &
hi there...
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