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7.31
Holy Boy! right under ol' d'monkey's nose...
from Carla Marinucci's "On Politics" column,
evidently Mr. Bugliosi will be in Oakland,
at the Grand Lake Theatre, Thursday, 7PM.
A First Amendment Center site
cheeezuzz, hit me w/a big stick, willya?
so far haven't turned anything up on the Grand Lake
appearance by Bugliosi, but if & when, we'll post it...
as promised: Bugliosi in Oak-town
~ ~ ~
Stimulate the Economy?
stimulate this georgy-boy!
are you a Rebate Rebel?
plenty being said, suggested & otherwise discussed
in various & sundry weblogs as well as elsewhere,
be rebellious w/your rebate at The Nation;
or visit our politcally un-astute subsidary, WWYW &
check out some of the suggested entities you
can choose to support at the bottom of this piece
~ ~ ~
few things more blissful
than a night of uninterrupted slumber, lovely dreams...
on this day, your daily bleed,
slow down now, linger awhile & peruse in a leisurely fashion...
& closing out a month that begins in a patriotic fashion,
Antiflag & Stars and Stripes
~ ~ ~
giving new meaning to the phrase "Eat Shit"
Space toilet key to conquering final frontier
plus, a bit of Bizarre Science
~ ~ ~
checking out the dumbmonkey of last year
and came across this item from Ralph,
no particular reason we including it here,
just a lazy-ass beginning to a tooozeday...
~ ~ ~
this would've been a better pic w/out the human in it...
7.30
another day of July &
then the lovely month of August awaits...
your assignment today, first hie theyselves towards:
el chango peligroso; geegaw;
shiny blue grasshopper;
nutlog; David Chess; pound; bad hair days
wha? ya say "stop, datz enuf!" ??
okay, cool, good, whatever ya say,
'cause dere jess ain't no linky goodness here today...
~ ~ ~
ahhhhh, mebbe we spoke too soon...
cue eerie backround music
Life from Outer Space
Can you say Panspermia?
Panspermia, or We Are All Aliens
okayokayokay,
datz enuf, & stop the goddam music willya?
~ ~ ~
must be the caffeine, yah, must be...
a reminder from Professor Baldessari,
Read, Write, Think, Dream
a few more related links on Baldessari here,
here, here, & here
~ ~ ~
too right!
better that I call you a liar to your face...
Huh!? Wha?! watchootalkin'bout willis???
Man Not Made to Communicate Electronically
obfuscation is only one of her specialities...
7.28
briefly, some notes in passing...
more on kite festival in Berkeley
(& itza brite & sunny day, too...)
from K. Turan @ L.A. Times,
more on Coppola's Apocalypse Now Redux
& last quick mention, Lucinda's in town
7.27
goshdarnitall, we almos' forgot...
for local folks this weekend,
Berkeley Kite Festival
~ ~ ~
linky goodness that we not able to provide
can be found today at the following locations:
be sure to take the F train, make it a habit;
that geezer at Book Notes does nice work;
this one is new on the dumbmonkey radar screens,
The Strange California Journey of Ramona White;
ohhhh, ya don' need a d'monkey to show ya round,
matter of fact, likely we see ya after the weekend...
~ ~ ~
blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...
couple of items culled from watching the evening news:
the FBI (& we know they know what they doing these days)
says
there's a threat, so
Ashcroft gets a private jet;
some folks in congress a little teed off regarding
the FERC, secret agreements & sealed documents;
reading the news didn't help much as we ran into
this story, man oh man oh man, from the LA Times;
then we went & watched The Daily Show & Jon
made us feel a leeetle bettah 'bout things but only
a leeetle, hell, we still got 3 & 1/2 years of that
clown in the residency, now that just fucked up
your day, didn't it...
7.26
an emphatically grey kind of morning
hereabouts, & we feel for those not accustomed to this typical
S.F. Bay area summer weather pattern, folks who'd prefer the warmth
of the sun to bask & frolic in instead finding themselves asking
"Is this not late July in the Northern Hemisphere?"
first, on this inauspicious midsummer's day, hie thyselves off to
Kokonino & Ko for some fun w/Sock Monkey;
whilst perusing some of our bloggos favoritos, we noticed that
Mark over at wood s lot has also noted N.Grey's reappearance,
mentioning his awareness of this due to perusing Cold Marble Musings;
we were updating links found in the deep blog field AKA autreblog
when/where we noticed Mr. Grey had launched depth of field,
and an upcoming update/revision of autreblog will include the following
new entries to the vast intergalactic reaches of blog-dom:
my blue house;
sex and sunshine;
calebos;
antigirl;
shinkansen;
jinwicked;
& meta by stasi, just to name a few...
we don't even pretend to try to keep up with them all, not anymore,
and our erratic efforts at updating autreblog are rewarded with the
occasional discovery & mention of same, like this for example...
~ ~ ~
okay, it not likely we be back here again today so we leave you w/this,
while ourowndarnself not imagining himself a "computer professional",
for those of you out there who may be, a community has formed/is forming;
& in that sense of social responsibility, we take our leave,
and offer this up to you, from years past...
7.25
are you enjoying your summer?
can you say V A C A T I O N, and have one to look forward to?
ourowndamself can answer yessss to that one,
but the day-to-day'll oftentimes takes a lot out of one,
and tha' holidaze still a leeetle waayz off...
~ ~ ~
a good many of our bloggin' brethren be thankful to a certain noah grey,
so it is nice to see somebody so creative back in action...
~ ~ ~
killing an hour while downloading
a few tunes @ alt.binaries.sounds.mp3.beatles
this little jewel from that mining excursion;
next we dug up some nuggets of linky goodness
which began by dropping in at jezebel's,
then a quick googlyish moment took us here,
others included this candidate for a friday follies post;
& as the ol' silverback endeavors
to encourage public debate,
we offer up this controversial issue;
back to something about toilet paper;
we apologise in advance
for subjecting you to more toilet paper;
file this in the "Vive La Difference" dossier...
and now, as the boys have got rehearsal out of the way,
here's John, Paul, George and Ringo one more time...
~ ~ ~
a bright & summery Ralph awaits your perusal
7.24
we could really use another day off...
many years ago, as a boy in El Paso, Tx, I used to listen
to Top 40 radio of the day, & can remember how things changed
for me when I first heard "I Want to Hold Your Hand";
I can remember the very afternoon I bought Sargeant Pepper's
Lonely Hearts Club Band, remember first viewing Yellow Submarine;
the soundtrack album to my youth full of tunes
by Lennon & McCartney and the other two guys...
I can remember very distinctly where I was and who I was
with
when I first heard that John Lennon had been shot; now,
I have become aware of the struggle facing George Harrison
& the grim prognosis he is accomodating himself towards...
this is for all of us, from George H.
7.23
okayokayokay, let's put monday to rest...
& we wish you the kind of rewarding evening you deserve
so get down to it & go down on it
here's Sixty Minute Man, by Clarence Carter
to put a smile on your kisser...
& by the way, Ruth Bernhard's photography,
at J.J. Brookings Gallery, thru Aug. 25th
~ ~ ~
a heads-up for locals & those w/
da moxie & wherewithal to drop in on Thursday...
according to Leah Garchick, there is a benefit showing of
a revised by director edition of Apocalypse Now
scheduled for THU. 7/26, at the Coronet Theatre, SF.
for those of you who don't know, the Coronet remains one of the
last examples of Great Big Single Screen Movie Palaces
Ms. Garchik provides number for Ticketweb (866-666-8932)
& if we can find anything regarding this event,
we'll post it here as quickly as we can...
***from Rob Morse's column, Tix $12 Adv., $15 Door***
***MORE from No. Beach Citizens: Tickets also avail***
***at their office @ 720 Columbus, itza good cause***
***& you'll spot the ol'silverback in the audience...***
Miramax Apocalypse Now Redux site
(North Beach Citizens , 415-772-0918)
~ ~ ~
monday? wha... already? k-e-e-e-rist...
& believe us please, we feel your pain...
just a coupla' things and we'll go away...
I want a Big Tub of Water too!
and tippin' da ol'red fez in David Chess's direction for these
~ ~ ~
nostalgia & the Glory Road...
take a trip on Rte 66, courtesy Sunday NYT
~ ~ ~
another reason why...
J.C. is our kinda guy
7.22
s-s-s-s- sunday...
briefly, & for now, courtesy the daily bleed,
1967 -- Poet/socialist Carl Sandburg, 89, dies, Flat Rock, North Carolina.
The honorable orators, the gazettes of thunder,
The tycoons, bigshots and dictators,
Flicker in the mirrors a few moments
And fade through the glass of death
For discussion in an autocracy of worms
While the rootholds of the earth nourish the majestic people
And the new generations with names never heard of
Plow deep in broken drums and shoot craps for old crowns...
The people will live on.
The learning and blundering people will live on.
They will be tricked and sold and again sold
And go back to the nourishing earth for rootholds,
The people so peculiar in renewal and comeback,
You can't laugh off their capacity to take it.
The mammoth rests between his cyclonic dramas.
The steel mill sky is alive,
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:
This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can't be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise.
You can't hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for
keeps, the people march
"Where to? what next?"
---Carl Sandburg, from The People, Yes
~ ~ ~
oh, & as for the movie day:
The Score- colossal waste of talent & money,
glad we paid matinee prices, wait for vid-
Mememto- intriguing, initially puzzling, but pay
enough attention & you'll get it...
a very lukewarm "go see it"...
Anniversary Party- Hoooohahh- worth seeing!
definitely...
the movie I am looking forward to seeing?
Coming Soon to a Theatre near You!!!
written & directed by David Mamet
Heist
(the film The Score wanted to be...)
and while we at it here, get hold of the DVD release of
State & Main, even if you've already seen the film
watch the version there with commentary provided by
several of the cast members, worth it just to hear
Patti LuPone's laugh, really, no kiddink!
so... the day turned out to be a "nice" one,
sun came out and played throughout the afternoon,
comfy temps for those locals a little weary of a
chilly, cloudy, foggy week, but as far as we are
concerned, bring it back, "vite vite!"
~ ~ ~
oh and one other thing...
we've a tendency to post or point out things poetic hereabouts,
so in that vein, this NYT item re one of our personal
literary faves,
(read Give Your Heart to the Hawks, or Roan Stallion sometime);
& we'd again like to point you in the direction of:
wood s lot, Book Notes, Bushwacker,
riley dog, open brackets, & Tony Pierce
amongst others, MANY others...
& r.d.'s absolutely right, see Swing Time!
nothing would please us better than opportunity to be
meeting all of these folks for lengthy sunday afternoon long
get together over yummy food & excellent drink
and just talk story, talk life, talk w/brainy, thoughtful folks...
7.21
weekend fulla movies,
doing the single guy thing...
inna big way... meeting Pal Janey for early showing of The Score, then lunch
afterwards, mebbe some nice soup (perhaps a big bowl of pho) as it is tha'kinda
day we relish, cool, overcast due to early Am foggishness, likely cool All Day Long
then intending to catch up with otra amiga, catch matinee of Memento at the Parkway;
in some sense am avoiding paying too much attention to the headlines, thinking that the
ones who should really be paying attention unfortunately remain so isolated & uncaring/
unthinking that we likely to see more of what's going down in Genoa, before we can even
begin to hope that some measure of change begins to occur...
we made reference to "shit eating grin" of yours truly a day or two ago, and intend to
come back here & expand upon what we gettin' at w/that, during the course of this (yah, me hopeful too!) pleasure (!) filled weekend, but briefly, we included two pictures hereabouts
when we introduced the "theme", asking if you could spot the ol' silverback in either of them, which was
no challenge at all for those of you already personally familiar w/ourowndamnself-
there are times in one's life, so singular and unique, and they often pass without any manner
of documentation or record of their having occured. In both instances illustrated by those photos
I had embarked on separate adventures, having been fortunate enough in both situations to have
been relatively unemcumbered & allow myself to take advantage of the opportunity, and what seems so
singular to me about the moments photographed is the signifigance, if you will, of that smile
that's plastered all over yourstruly's face: Unalloyed happiness, that is what both of those moments
were full of; being in a place & time where each day offered different & unique challenges; where
routine could rarely be used to describe any part of any day I was living through.
It isn't just that alone, both were unique adventures, both took place out of any familiar place (although I had been in the Aleutians once before) and there have been other occasions since then (thank goodness) altho no one around to record most of them on film. Think back on your own life, contemplate the existance of those times when each moment that passed
was truly like no other, there was nothing of the humdrum most of us experience now, the daily waking, making ready for whatever kind of commute we have to exist with, the familiarity of job routine (varying to large degree from one of us to the other, we grant you), how often colorless & mundane much of it is. Something happened to me a few years back that has brought about large & substantial changes in my own life, many of which I am only recently becoming fully aware of, and what I am getting at is my desire to remain available to opportunity & adventure, to increase the occurance of feeling that shit eating grin split my face again, as it seems to have become a raretie, it appears that something about this life I am leading (and it ain't a bad one, believe me, not by a long shot) could use a little tweaking & extra-special adjustments, to widen any window of opportunity that exists & then to act, to move upon it and
again find each day offering more of those never before experienced moments...
uhoh, gotta run, time to go have some fun...
ciao, bambini!
7.20
more administration hi-jinks
courtesy The Nation, Diana Gordon on Ashcroft Justice
~ ~ ~
they could be anywhere, trust no one...
J.C. warns us about viral advertisers
~ ~ ~
serious, no ha ha
join the intrepid Ms Daly as she has fun w/computers
~ ~ ~
let's watch movies w/Kevin Smith
~ ~ ~
oh oh- keep an eye on these congressional shenanigans
~ ~ ~
what a silly fool...
this ol' silverback is sometimes, but that's ok,
we've left little damage behind, & try to remain on
the straight & narrow...
Thank You to the few folks who responded to our request for
clarification on the sixty minute man issue---
(we were thinking Clarence Thomas- hahahohoheehee--)
it seems several versions out there, the one we sought is by
Clarence Carter, and another fine one, tho different, by
Rufus Thomas, both of which we will get around to making available
over the weekend, but until then, we say "Happy Trails to you..."
7.19
sumbuddy slap me, wake my ol tired ass up...
Mimi Farina, dead at 56
some tribute & related links courtesy environy
~ ~ ~
fabulously overcast, foggy morning over the bay...
riding into the city on the train, listening to the Inevitable Xmas CD, fine
compilation created by Krazy K.C. Pat Tomek, and man, am already
(ol' silverback be humming this tune all day long)
looking forward I.X.CD II. Perusing pages of Esquire duriing the ride
in, a wonderful article in this month's issue re Hubble telescope entitled
A Journey to the Beginning of Time which we wish was available
on-line, but alas, iz not, but you can check out your awareness of
popular cul-cha, or read about Sigourney at 51;
anybuddy that's dropped in on our little roadside attraction on the
information highway is aware we mighty fond of esos vatos locos Los Lobos,
happy to discover brief mention of their work at New Yorker on-line;
and Damn, there's a lot we intending to address hereabouts very soon
sooooo... as we on the j-o-b & unpleasant plumbing project awaits us
upon return to chez d'monkey this eve, we make an effort to deliver soon...
~ ~ ~
holy boy! talk about a funked up morning...
may be time for haircut, damn, been only- what- three & a half years or so...
major contretemps @ chez d'monkey this Am, we hatez to shower w/
water up to our ankles (eeewwwwwwww-yucky!), so now major chore
awaits our return home from work-day & you know this is exactly how
we want to spend our evening after a long day on the j-o-b...
unfortunately right now we a little behind schedule, so we gotzta run,
mebbe sumbuddy out dere can help us w/this, as our mind a little befuddled
at the moment: Who did the tune "60 Minute Man"? just cannot recall, so if
you can (& even better, can drop us a link to obtain tune) we do magical
naked monkey-man dance under the full moon for you...
bring ya all kinds of good fortune & lottery luck
hey Queen Bee, You Ok? missing yer grumpy highness...
7.18
just past mid-day on humpday...
whilst perusing one of our fave magazines
damn, we gotzta stop subscribing to SO many...
we came across announcement for the
John Lennon Songwriting Contest
~ ~ ~
color us all kinds of surprised...
meet the new boss, same as the old boss
~ ~ ~
have fun w/el residente...
had to pass this along...
dress up dubya
tippin' da ol'red fez to the 3 Bruces
and, oh yah, look who's back
y una cosa mas- hornygoat
~ ~ ~
el horrorscopo del chango tonto
Capricorn (Dec 22 - Jan 19)
You may finally be able to get your head out from all the
details that you've been dealing with these past couple of days.
Spend some time with a sympathetic pal this evening to share stories
and even a good meal together. You need the company of someone who is
not trying to push you, but is on your side no matter what you do
now who in the f**k could that be?
~ ~ ~
we mentioned it yesterday...
but that didn't seem adequate,
so here, for all of you, some Coltrane:
Body and Soul
My One and Only Love
After the Rain
Naima
While My Lady Sleeps
& we didn't note it yesterday, but it was also
the anniversary of the death of Billie Holiday
~ ~ ~
okayokayokay... so there's the ol' silverback...
what do these photos have in common?
well, it has to do with that shit-eatin' grin...
& we'll enlarge upon that as the week progresseth
(& by the way, the ol' silverback still looks good in a pair of shorts)
7.17
Cal Dept. of Education sez
you kidz should be reading these books;
related story from local fishwrap
& briefly, more adminstration shenanigans
~ ~ ~
tryin' to maintain an even strain...
where words go to die
credit for heads-up to mighty Mo Jo's Bush files
mebbe mo' later...
~ ~ ~
J.C. is a fuckin' genius
i read the Daily Bleed, oh yeah...
J. Coltrane, died July 17, 1967
& we know ya don' need us to find ya more linkage...
7.16
hohoho, hahaha, heeheehee...
almos' choked on our bagel,
this tickled us so...
from the official record
~ ~ ~
gonna be pretty quiet 'round here for a bit...
& remember, some weblogs require handling w/rubber gloves
really got very little to say presently, and it would be (really) much more
pleasant to have your company here alongside me at this lovely sidewalk cafe...
go then, & hie theyselves to some of the best & brightest,
riley dog; wood s lot; dangerousmeta;
abada abada; kokonino & ko.; openbrackets;
booknotes; eccentric flower; Looka;
F train; metascene; Tony Pierce
so drop your fave a note & tell 'em how much you appreciate their efforts...
7.11
can you spot el chango tonto in the foto?
the best kine o'morning @ chez d'monkey
yah, ya guessed it, definitely foggish, low clouds, very cool night/early am,
all the windows open, ourowndamnself snug beneath flannel sheet & comforter,
up earlier than snoozing galpal alongside, low flying prop-plane overhead
making quite a bit of racket on otherwise very still & quiet Am, motivating
myself to stir, rise & don nice flannel robe & pj pants (thanx to ever-thoughful
monkeymomz), let the faithful poochster outside to water the lawn & inspect her
territory, as we stumble into the kitchen, light the stove for some heat, put the kettle on,
think briefly about it then decide upon blue corn pancakes w/pineapple chunks for
brekkie; turn on the radio w/volume low, pal still snoozing as it kinda early yet...
~ ~ ~
first item of linkage on this AM:
from the Washington Post, The New Face of Loyalty;
run across Me-Fi thread inspired by this story
kinda tickled by idea, and think of how much more often this
could be choice some lonely soul makes;
then i fall into way-back machine & recall student days at SF State,
in Nexus writing program (fusion of english comp & science, with emphasis
on writing on/about science), paper written on book entitled The Redundant Male,
my simultaneous introduction to the works of Ashley Montagu, particularly
The Natural Superiority of Women and
Man's Most Dangerous Myth: The Fallacy of Race;
ohhhh man, that seems s u c h a bloody long time ago...
some bits & pieces, related linky goodness to the above:
little known trivia: Montagu's work inspired the creator of Wonder Woman;
brief excerpt here from The Redundant Male;
(watch out for those Martian Bachelors)
always enjoy the serendipitous moment provided via google,
in this case, site re surrealism w/cover from edition of The Redundant Male
again, some serendipity courtesy the NYT, Mating Dances Go On & On;
we very briefly mentioned the passing of Mortimer Adler,
but include this list of recommended books including Montagu's
wrap this up with a quote from Henry Miller,
(utilized by the authors of The Redundant Male)
Sex is one of the nine reasons for reincarnation...
The other eight are unimportant
~ ~ ~
ahhhhhh, brekkie is served in the kitchen, galpal awake & freshly showered,
yummy pancakes & sliced apricots on the side, real maple syrup
homemade latte thingie for yourstruly, cuppa lovely Peet's Assam E.F. for her,
and as the day begins, we wish you fine times, many smiles,
I'll be away for awhile...
~ ~ ~
okayokayokay, but first...
from 3 Bruces, for those w/broadband & broadminds:
a word of advice to da fellas
7.10
something important to note:
no, to anyone paying attention, this is NOT news...
from FamiliesUSA.com
~ ~ ~
smoke & lightning machines are off...
for the moment at least, as I'll be trying a different tack here for a bit, as uncomfortable as it feels at the moment (ahhhh, so easy to hide blame behind the usage of the imperial we) and I did get a half-dozen positive responses re some of the more personal kinds of posts that have seen the light of day hereabouts recently. I find I am
indebted in some way to some of the other very fine efforts out there (getting more and more difficult to keep up even with just my faves), for example wood s lot, for pointing me in the direction of recent post at openbrackets. There is a certain kind of "me-me-me itzallaboutME" kind of weblog-journal thingie that I find little enjoyment in, particularly when scribed by person w/obvious lack of life experience (very often the equivalent of college freshperson- and yah, i was one once too BUT, i grew up FAST, hangin' w/juvie delinquents and in general folk a bit older than myself) yet there are others, deeply personal, quite engrossing, and compelling enough that i become their constant reader...
that, i think (and yes, i am going to stay w/the lower case, if i am limiting my use of the imperial we temporarily, there is something about that capital I that screams "ME!!! it's ME speaking, listen to ME!!!!---- sorry...) is something that hasn't occured in this effort of mine very often, more typically we are posting varied & sundry linkage w/attached wise-ass (occasionally not so wise) commentary & always cross-linking like a mo-fo every chance i get, but why, por quoi? what is this impulse and where did it spring from and how did it become the minor (Minor?) obsession that is has? Pos, mis amigos, quien sabe, perhaps it be springing from somegreatvoid in this life of mine that is not otherwise administered to. i see many examples of folks enlarging their "social circle" from behind the guise of their weblog, and occasionally some form of discourse that takes place via the "comment" link provided now in the latest versions of whatever weblog composition proggie one is utilizing, and in the course of their workday (cause it all quiets down on the weekend, ya notice?) it becomes like looking over the cubicle (and we almost all know what that cubicle shit be about these days) and bantering, the water-cooler syndrome, catching up in the break-room by the candy machine. Some real intellectual exchange may occur (but that usually- in my exp at least- more likely in extended email exchanges), but more likely it in the form of snarky quips, mini-flirtations (some of which may get out of hand much to the regret of one party or another), the occasional flame war, ahhhh, why i am wasting so much space, you, most of you at any rate, know exactly whereof i speak.
ennywayz- something in the nature of our lives does leave us desiring more, i postulate to you, more in the sense of extended community, of "neighborliness", like discovering you have new neighbor who is playing some excellent music that you overhear while sitting in your backyard, and you see them out in theirs one day, and you stroll over to the back fence and strike up conversation and discover you both big fans of ol' blind-bagel-lovin'-monkeyman, and you begin new comradeship in serendiptitous fashion, and seems to me that occurs quite often in the journal/weblog universe. but it ain't quite that simple either, izzit?
there's that other compelling aspect affecting some amongst us, the consideration for design & color & lay-out, which will occasionally cover up lack of content and other venial sins, i truly admire the simple elegance that some of my peers in this community have managed to remain faithful to, i still am learning a lot and have nice proggies to play with, and want to indulge my impulse to dress this up a bit every now and again, but desire above all, to attempt to keep it simple and, if possible, elegantly so.
sometimes you just feel you got nothing further to say, and if you had anything left, is there anybody out there who gives a goddam? am i possessed by ego & will strong enough to write it regardless, post it up there and say "Fuck, I Don't Care If Anybody Reads This, I Am Going To Say It Anyway!" (which is what i think i happen to be doing at the moment)
received this in one of the nice messages sent my way yesterday:
To log or not to log - sounds like such a little
question unless you're a logger.
And in what voice? And do I talk
about me or about someone else?
And is it OK to do four days of fart
jokes, if
I do three days of Cheney / W bone-jumping?
And is it OK if I
suck a couple of days a week if
I'm amusing (at least to myself) a
couple of days a week?
Me? what do i think? Fuck yah, go ahead on and do it, free speech, get it offa yr chest and outta yr system and out there and who knows what might happen next.
..."Fortasse," inquit
"Laetitia diei festi ex ipsis muneribus non proficiscitur..."
"Fortasse," inquit Grinchus,
"Laetitia diei festi
non est res empticia,
non est res quaestuosa!"
ubi-mirabile dictu-omnes ad unum,
maiores minoresque,
senes iuvenesque,
donis, muneribus, apophoretis ablatis,
canunt, cantant, psallunt, cantillant!
the pointlessness of this story?: if you are out there and creating, and happy with it most of the time, keep on doing it, usually it is really only yourself keeping you from continuing, although my personal experience is that things beyond our control will occasionally come along and kick some serious butt and keep us off of the airwaves for awhile, but if you've been at it long enough to let it get under your skin, to feel that earnest need to say "Hey, you guyz, look what I found", perhaps to voice your agreement with the idea that the resident of the highest office in this country (and we not talking about the fellow on the 133rd floor of the building you work in) is a simpleton, Do It, say it plainly and stand behind it, especially when you cannot find any other satisfactory way of getting it said.
gosh oh whilikers, who knows what you might get in your mail sometime,
whether you writing about grinches or not...
(credit for latin text above to Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers)
7.9
c r a p o l a
an inauspicious start to this week, seems like part of this month's entries
have vanished into the ether, and our misfortune is compounded by our inability
(& further misfortune) to locate cached version of earlier page,
even here at the j-o-b where we wuz so certain we'd luck out on that...
not sure why it bugs us so much, but it does, so if (IF-yah it be a goddam
big IF) ennybuddy out dere discovers cached july d'monkey including all of
the fourth as well as 3rd thru 1st, send it our way & we
make sure you
rewarded handsomely (yah... right...)
Oh & Thank You Vurry Much to the folks kind enough to drop a
note
our way recently & saying such nice things, maybe we will get out from
behind the gorilla mask more often...
(but be careful what you wish for katz & kitteez!!!)
~ ~ ~
to co-worker at fishwrap here seeking d'monkey,
it's dumbmonkey, not dumb monkey
nice folks tryin' to help us recover lost posts...
ahhh, but some pretty funny results under that 2nd search
like this one
~ ~ ~
microclimates r us
again from beloved local fishwrap,
bay area climatology, in brief;
& more from Henry Norr, including a correction
7.8
favorite kind of morning here at home...
I grew up in a desert, the Chihuahuan Desert of W. Texas, adjoining the border of New Mexico and Olde Mexico, at the foot of the Franklins Mountains. I got my fill of constant sunshine early, and some of my fondest memories of boyhood were the other kinds of days, the cloudy ones, especially the days where the scent of rain miles away was borne by the breeze that possibly would bring those showers overhead, and then I'd be surrounded by the falling rain, the scent of wet earth, and the electric crackle to the air, so obviously different from the usual aridity of the desert air. I didn't come to this part of the left coast until 1973 and have stayed ever since, although every now and again, have returned to W. Texas, as most of my family still reside there. It is in the San Francisco Bay area where I actually "grew up" I believe; the combination of experiences, friendships and the events of the day; there must also be some reason the constant green-ness of the place, the very comfortable temperatures, the quality of light, the almost ever present marine layer have all contributed to my
now calling this place home, where the low clouds lay presently overhead, the East Bay hills are shrouded in the fog,
there is a marvelous stillness & quiet still, although it is already 8:30, in another hour or so the fog begins to lift
(that time varies from one area to another locally) the sun will shine through, the afternoon breeze will kick in, then the process will repeat itself as the day passes from evening into night, the fog again returning, like a blanket spread over the sleeping bay & it's denizens.
I don't speak of it very often here, and I always "disguise" myself behind the imperial we in much of what appears here, but there are times when I am simply not certain what or why I am maintaining this journal of sorts. There was some brief period late last year when this particular page was retired and we tried another tack of sorts, which became el lobo loco, particularly to address our (there we go again) dismay, disgust & disappointment w/the outcome of the November election. It was very reassuring to find so many others out there who felt the same kind of apprehension and anger, and in some way it allowed me to return to the dumbmonkey, and kind of pick up where I left off. Having been at this a little better than a year & a-half, & usually on a daily basis, it has become something of a habit, and even now, when the idea of stopping briefly, a hiatus if you will, crosses my mind, there is usually something that occurs or that I come across that incites me to mention it, share it, to do what little I can to pass that word along. I don't have (at least at this point in time) the same wish I once had for more readers, more feedback, more recognition; I find that I am content with what we are doing here and it seems that, amongst some of my peers in this vanity-publishing world of web-logs, there has been some mutual recognition & acknowledgement of something on these pages that passes as worthwhile, at least most of the time. I could list at least thirty other efforts out there that I believe are far more interesting, that show evidence of fine minds at work, mining the web, their own experiences & localities to post nuggets of linky goodness and share the germs of ideas, provoke thought & discussion. If you have been paying attention, you already have come across a good many of them, and without a doubt, know a few you could share with me that I am altogether unaware of. I do still think of stopping, though...
Last winter, when I was going through sort of a bad patch, much of this life was colorless & disappointing. I wasn't alone by any means, I am a fortunate enough fellow to have good friends (though they be widely spread across the country) and be part of a loving (though still, like many others, somewhat disfunctional) family. I have been thinking about that blue-oh-so-blue period recently, as I am aware of a couple of other folks I know who are struggling a little currently, trying to keep the water from rising further in their little boat, keeping the current from dashing them against the rocks. I watched a young man on TV a week or two back, younger than myself, attending a funeral, this funeral of four children, all his sons, all truly children, and I wept because I had no comprehension of how he could stand so straight & seem so awfully strong in the bright light of day, on what must have been the saddest day of his young life, and thought to myself fairly often since then, "oh, laddie, you know nothing of grief, even tho' you think you've lived through it, you know nothing of desolation and absence of hope..." and perhaps I was just being hard on myself for being vain, selfish and occasionally too caught up in my own drama.
Early last week, on the train ride home, a woman carrying a child sat down next to me, and I glanced up long enough to look over at them, and espied a beautiful radiant child, a smiling infant, and I wasn't alone in noticing how happy & gorgeous a child this was, as I looked across from my seat and over at other passengers who shared sight of this child and they were all aware, they all had smiles on their faces, like mine, in simple & unconscious reaction to the sight of this handsome little human, held in the arms of his mother. Later in the week, a friend had come over for dinner, and she was speaking about other people's children, and said something (not intentionally cruel, and something I have no doubt that many of us have thought at one time or another) about some people who should not have children, because they are so unattractive themselves, imagine the kind of ugly monkey-kinder they might produce, and I thought about this child that I saw that Monday afternoon, and it wasn't because his mother was homely (she wasn't) but what I thought and said was that if there was any real balance and justice in this universe we inhabit, that if two unfortunate souls who throughout their entire lives were dismissed and not paid attention to simply because they were homely, who from their early childhood through the years of adolescence and into adulthood were scorned & ignored, made fun of, persecuted, how fitting it might be that they might meet, and see the beauty in one another, and then, if they decided to bring a child into the world, how fitting and wonderful that this child might be so radiant and beautiful in some way righting the scales so unjustly & unfairly tipped against them.
It really isn't that kind of world though, is it. Oh, yah, maybe we look hard enough and find the beauty, some significant evidence that we live in an age of miracles and wonder, where justice triumphs, evil is kept in check, and
all our lesser behaviors are slowly but steadily being culled from our psyches. Wishful thinking? hmmmmmm....
It is now past the midpoint of the first year of the new century. If you read thru all of the above and come back for more, I want to thank you, and let you know that at this moment, I believe it is likely I will continue to attempt to provide this distraction & entertainment. I am also going to continue to endeavor to be a better human, as it is, I am told I'm a pretty nice guy (oh yah? who sez? I gotza bone to pick w/dem!); to be more generous, to be a better listener, to be more conscious & aware of those around me, particularly my friends and intimates. I think of myself as a patient person, but know that I could work on that too, sometimes, and to those of you who know me firsthand, bear with me, be patient with me as well. You know, this could be one hell of a nice place to live,
if only more of us could grasp where we have been misled & misinformed, and act accordingly. This last to my friends and family who do take time from their day to stop here occasionally and see what's up: I love you all, and wish you the best,
and in my heart embrace you tightly.
~ ~ ~
ahhhhh, sorry, just one last thing...
Letterboxing North America
7.7
salutations on saturday
a fine lazy weekend so far,
& to jump right into things go to
Cardhouse for fun w/collecting cards;
our evil twin, at it again
drop in, by chance; courtesy pb's onfocus
& Best Wishes to
Ray & the gang over at Kokonino's
on their anniversario segundo...
ahhh, let us guess, Gs= gangsters?
grooviest? goodeats?
ghastlies?
grotesque?
gypsies?
ahhh, we give up...
~ ~ ~
ahem....
possibly the next big idea?
7.6
no, nope, no way, no how...
nein, nyet, Non!- No friday follies today, so there!
instead, this quotation:
Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation?
I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength,
strength and courage, to yield to.
--Oscar Wilde
along w/some brain food for your edification:
The Great Climate Flip-Flop
~ ~ ~
unusual, 'tho interesting job opportunity
but you'll want to stock up on earplugs
~ ~ ~
woof woof woof
The Dog Blog
& for the those of you out there w/fave poochster
of your very own, we suggest visiting The Bark
hey! subscriptions make lovely gifts...
~ ~ ~
hello, again...
be sure to ride the F Train today,
and perhaps also visit Alamut, dangerousmeta,
& open brackets, amongst others...
& it isn't that we intend to be critical of other blogs,
on-line journals, whatever it is these individual efforts are,
but there is a lot of crap out there...
ignore our cranky ol' self, just kinda grumpy & outta sortz...
~ ~ ~
an odd week, seemingly two fridays...
but this one the real deal, so we go with it...
enjoying the current issue of Harper's Magazine, in particular a piece by Alan Burdick,
entitled Now Hear This - Listening back on a century of sound - where the author relates to us some of his experiences while visiting the Smithsonian Institution's Center for Folklife Programs & Cultural Studies, in particular, the Smithsonian Folkways Collection. we'll include some brief excerpts below:
In a 1956 interview with The Saturday Evening Post, record store mogul Sam Goody described his more avid customers, "It's pitiful, sometimes, if they've got it bad. Their eyes get glazed, they go white, their hands tremble... As I watch them I often feel that a dope peddler is a gentleman compared with
the man who sells records."
I was unprepared for the emotional weight of these recordings. These were ghosts like no others: lonely, haunting, they spoke of dark, rainy platforms, of aimless couplings and decouplings, of the vastness of plains and passengers hurtling toward unremembered ends. Proust describes rounding a bend in the road: he sees a stand of trees he's seen beofre, but whether he first saw them in a dream or in the distant real past, he can't say. "I watched the trees gradually recede, waving their despairing arms, seeming to say to me 'What you fail to learn from me today, you will never know. If you allow us to drop back into the hollow of this road from which we sought to raise ourselves up to you, a whole part of yourself which we were bringing to you will vanish forever.' "
I started over. I flipped the record to the correct side and found my proper place in the liner notes. Only then did I notice the notes themselves. Siegel's descriptions were terse and time-coded: the segments stood apart from one another in stanzas.
26:52-30:56 burning out an old car.
26:55 windows crack out.
27:30 metal crackling.
27:54 fresh draft.
29.25 sizzles.
I read them all, then read them again. They were astonishing little documents: poems - onomatopoems. It was as though I'd uncovered a map. Of what? To where?
Recently I spoke to Seeger on the phone; last autumn he stepped down from the curatorship of Smithsonian Folkways to take an academic post at U.C.L.A., where he has resumed his anthropological work with the Suya. (The new curator, Daniel Sheehy, is also an ethnomusicologist, and the former director of folk arts at the National Endowment for the Arts.) Seeger related the story of a Suya tribesman named Ntoni. One day, after a long illness, Ntoni woke to discover that he had lost his spirit. In a place like New York, a loss of one's spirit is an unenviable plight; among the Suya, however, it is a mark of distinction, for the loss enables the individual to commune with the spirits of the forest. Ntoni watched as animals removed their skins; he saw the trees wave their arms; he met the spirit of the armadillo and learned its song: "I am the armadillo, leaping, dancing, singing." The woods sang to him and to him alone. Ntoni listened closely to the songs, learned them, translated them, and repeated them to his community; he helped incorporate them into the tribe's ceremonial and social fabric. Ntoni became the primary source of new songs for the Suya, the only tribe member with an ear to the ground. Siegel, Seeger, Place, Edison, anyone with headphones or a functioning ear or a moment to be still and listen-- they seek a similiar knowledge.
37:12-39:05 dump truck unloading sheet metal scrap.
37:12 lifting up dump carriage.
37:50 move truck to start sheets sliding out.
38:40 removing what is left by hand.
I've pinned these koans on my wall. I revisit them, turn them over like stones. I know now where sound goes when it dies. It comes back again, reborn: language.
don't want to tell you too much about the piece, as we certain you'd enjoy discovering it yourself, so hie theyself to thy local newstand/magazine purveyor and pick up the July '01 issue. Harper's Magazine is on the web here and scheduled to come fully on-line later this summer is this site where one ought to be able to find all of Harper's content on-line, albeit by subscription (likely money well spent for curious simian like ourself).
Oh, yessss, here is link to Smithsonian Folkways,
along with link to S.I.'s Center for Folklife & Cultural Heritage
~ ~ ~
7.5
damn, this news makes us way happy!
not sure, but it looks like stumpy,
steve, jane, dante & billy all be back
(oh we hopes so...)
& THANKS for finding a place for yourstruly there...
~ ~ ~
wild women???
Bay Area Wild Writing Women
ooopsies! bad link above now corrected
extra added value linky goodness:
Wild Women's Adventure Travel tips
Wild Writing Women Website
whew!
and we not sure why one-time good pal of ours
avoiding us so these days, but we let her know
'bout this, cause we know she'd like to hang in SF,
instead of texasss....
ahhh... we did receive communique from
the Queen's social secretary, to wit:
She's not avoiding you. She doesn't have anything to
say, I reckon... anyway, she wishes she were more like
some folks who can do more than one thing at once, but
her mind is fraying, and she can only multi-task when
it comes to the job. she is sorry if she is
inadvertently ignoring her friends, she doesn't want
to do that, but she can't figure out her priorities...
okay, now we know that, let her know she is missed...
~ ~ ~
apres les hot-dogs et hamburgers...
not really!
completely got my week screwed up now, at times imagined yesterday to be a Friday,
at other moments we fooled ourselves into imagining it was Sunday, all we know right now
is it is goddam early and we are far from having it together...
celebrating the fourth is not what we did yesterday; there was an early shopping trip to
Humungous Hardware, then picking up longtime gal-pal of ours we headed into Oakland where
yours truly invested in new instrument of torture (ahhhhh, vanity...) then back to the neighborhood where we enjoyed nice late brekkie in local restaurant, kinda veggie-laden scrambled egg thing w/spinach tortillas, while we discussed mutual plans for any vacation on our respective schedules, then agreed to meet an hour later across the street at Albany theatre to catch mid-day matinee... rode the bike to the theatre and met pal Susan & daughter Lauren Jane, now this kind of moment can be pretty revelatory. Susan and I once were lovers/partners and lived together years ago, Lauren was mere youngster, who used to ride atop my shoulders and always loved to be read bedtime stories. Lauren now has finished first year of college in Chicago, is a tiny bit taller than her momz now, and interesting to see how the woman she is becoming resembles her mom, they both have beautiful hands. The film we were there to see entitled "With a Friend Like Harry" which according to most of the reviews we'd come across had been pretty highly recommended, but now that we've actually sat thru it, yourstruly not really giving it more than a lukewarm recommendation, it was rather disappointing. The three of us parted company after the movie and ourowndamnself returned to chez d'monkey to spend a pleasant afternoon reading the paper where we came across two interesting items, the first here re prunes & hamburger, the second another look at something in the news of late re payment to freelance writers when their work is published on the net. Later, whilst perusing bloggies favoritos, we came across this tale of someone willing to go great lengths for some broadband, which we initially located (credit where credit due) at More Like This.
Later That Same Day: we were joined by another pal for nice long conversation and leisurely dinner, till dusk began to fall and she jetted off home to keep an eye on new doggy pal of hers, his first nite experiencing the noisy joy that is the fourth in the USA, and it seems to yourstruly yesterday's celebration/s one of the noisiest in many years. Damn, we not anywhere near the big displays but there were several in the immediate area, and it was noisy for some time, and along with those in the neighborhood unable to resist
the lure of creating Big Bangs, well, enough said...
okayokayokay, enough of this claptrap, a couple of goodies here for the regular visitors, especially those with similiar musical tastes, Two tunes, from Richard Thompson, off a sorta hard to find live CD, Two Letter Words:
Beeswing and Ghosts in the Wind.
big Howdy to K.C. Pat, copy of this CD wingin' it's way to you after the weekend, amigo
taking the lazy way out again, the following
from el chango tonto of 7.4.00.
ciao, amici mio...
7.4
there's a certain holiday
being celebrated today
within the borders of this country, and by many of it's citizens residing elsewhere. The dumbmonkey is not a particularly patriotic, let alone astute, observer of the political scene, but performed his military service when required, albeit questioningly & with some minor blemishes (AWOL for 13 days, investigated for possession of "green vegetable matter" along w/my roomate), and is enough of a cynic to maintain that pose of detached irony amidst the spectacle of fireworks exploding overhead while Sousa blares in the backround. Certainly aware enough of the transgressions of the state to attenuate any feelings of pride in being American and some of that has to do with not being of Anglo-Saxon lineage. We want to avoid sounding more knowledgeable than we actually are, as our stance is largely apolitical, yet aligned emotionally w/the dispossessed & struggling here in the USA as well as around the world, but it's grim, you know, that particular reality.
So we're including a few posts of related materials that in some way share the theme of Independence, the value of it, the struggle for it, the illusion of it (?). First, in search of a quote many of you are doubtlessly familiar with, we include this page of quotations which happens to include a fine collection of links at the bottom of the page including this one. Keeping in mind that one might be best advised to beware of those trumpeting the cause of Libertarianism & the threat of the State to our "individual freedom", let's introduce
this site alongside this list of events discovered on that site. Let's include a bit of Sartre
in today's post, just to give you some real meat whilst you munch away on whatever charred flesh you indulge in today. We'll swing this pendulum back in the other direction a little with this link to the Independence Institute, as an informed populace is better able to defend itself (forewarned is forearmed & all that), w/ this brief bit of levity also found at the II site, just 'cause it tickles the latent Texan in the dumbmonkey. Back to the actual event this holiday is intended to memorialize, we introduce this from the Library of Congress, and we'll include this related page, maybe somebuddy's got a homework assignment they need some help on. Here's an eye-opener for some of you not aware of the California Secessionist Movement. We've rambled on long enough, it's time to make sure we don't need to go back to the grocery store, that the beer's on ice & that there's plenty of Red & White wine, that all the blueberries & strawberries have been cleaned for our lovely red white & blue dessert, & hope the fog (locally) stays away long enough tonight that Auntie Edna & Uncle JoJo can enjoy the fireworks, but we are going
to leave you with this last link re the yearning for Independence existing in many places.
Peace...
~ ~ ~
f * c k m e !
alors! quel désastre!
not sure what happened here folks,
but some of july seems to have taken it's leave...
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