seeing that we're number fourteen on this list... 10.31
will only encourage us to try harder... oh, the fun that can be had when viewing the official visitors list...
nothing like a little ego boost in the Am...
that leads to pleasant discovery and mebbe something to keep the mood light. Ourowndamnself spent a few moments checking out the official log of visitors hereabouts and discovered many dropping in via a referral from Mind Collisions and whomever the kind soul be that included l'Marquis' little effort amongst their list of bloggos favoritos, well, "Muchas Gracias, amigo!" and give a shout if you're ever in our environs, we be happy to buy ya a beer and show ya round. By the way, ourowndamnself almos' choked on our morning banana when we read the joke about GWB & his jigsaw puzzle. While we're at it, also want to pass along a word of appreciation to the wizards behind the respective curtains of way down here and super good deluxe poems for their kindness in including d'Monquis on their sidebars of linky goodness. That offer made earlier applies to you folks as well,
and if you're a bit uncertain 'bout the quality of l'Marquis' hospitality, well, we can provide references...
OH! and we'd be messing up hugely if we didn't point you in Mark Morford's direction this Am
okay, so all work & no fun makes...
for a lousy way to spend a day off, so we be here futzing around for just a bit,
while the laundry's being taken care of, then we'll hang it out on the line and take care
of some Pm chores. While waiting we were reading todays fishwrap and found a couple of stories
of local interest beginning with one containing a truly local angle on new building going up in fave neighborhood just
blocks away from chez d'Monquis, same piece also mentions the building you see a portion of in the photo alongside. Found another article with story about new additions to the downtown Berkeley arts district, sure to warm the hearts of poets everywhere. One last item cadged from the fishwrap was list of scary thoughts, which made us grin and lightened the mood a little bit. Seems like there is a bit of rain forecast locally, likely not to be much in the nearby environs, but we certainly looking forward to a few rainy days and getting the fireplace back into action, cozy nights with a nice fire going, sipping some whiskey, maybe watching a movie, more likely reading a good book. What you reading here was intended to be added to the page yesterday Pm but we were
suffering technical difficulties, you might notice a few of these in the next month or so as we migrating the monquis to a new server and shifting things around a bit, an attempt to create a space a little more efficient and take advantage of what appears to be an awfully good deal provided us by our hosting company.
Yesssss, the laundry got done, we managed to repot some plants and check a few other tasks off the list of chores, but old habits are hard to break and we spent most of the late afternoon and evening reading and watching some hoops, guess we'll be
doing the yard work and some home maintenance over the weekend, but that's okay as we've naught else planned except for our
escape from the hordes of costumed sugarvampires roaming the streets tonight...
seems like it gonna be a busy thursday... 10.30
and 'fore we go jump off into it, ourowndamnself was reminded of Riley Dog mention of L.A. Taco Trucks back on his september 25 post (sometimes ya just got to go and look thru the good stuff to find the good stuff 'cause folks like me and steve got little use for permalinkage --- and what 'da hell be so perma 'bout them anyway?) then we added linky goodness to the sidebar the other day that included Oaktown Underground where we discovered Al Pastor's (Hooo-ahhhh, we gets that joke!) Taco Tour '03, and fine linky goodness there includes one for tacotrucks.net and... and... damn, now we all hungry and shit...
we see y'all later on, somewhere awaits some taquitos w/our name allover 'em...
come friday nite yourstruly likely be in the...
audience at AMC 16 theatre watching newly released Director's Cut of Alien, but for those of you seeking out
ways to celebrate "El Dia De Los Muertos", you might hie theyselves to the Fruitvale District in Oak-town for the festivities on Sunday (it's an easy BART ride...), then there's also this list of fun & games to celebrate the Day of the Dead... Aiii! Si, me gusta mucho las comidas Mexicanas!
it's been a little more than two years...
since ourdamnedself had to make the sort of decision mentioned in this Slate article, and the Cam-dogg's
condition dire enough we had little more than an afternoon to consider the options, she had already suffered through
a terrible week and (we still thank our lucky stars for the the thorough examination & patient explanation provided us by the vet on duty at the pet emergency hospital, and will never forget her kindness) our decision was based on that ultimately, to put an end to her suffering. No, we've not yet found whatever it is that will allow us to bring another dog into our life, part of it, wethinks, is some
manner of fear of going through this again, as for a while there, death seemed a regular presence in our days. Even now, if l'Marquis were to describe that last day Cam & ourself, ohhhh man... you'd think that wound might have scabbed over & healed by now but you'd be wrong Binky, it's still there...
techie alert... 10.28
tell your friends: SF Gate seeks Technical Director; and okay, yourstruly is easily confused these days;
should we go here or here for the latest linky goodness?
seeing that yourstruly's not likely to make...
the team these days, maybe we should consider trying out for the dance squad;
sometimes, during a lull in the work day, we likely to inquire of google something that be on our mind at the moment, so, we tried this yesterday and enjoyed checking out some of the results provided...
Oh Yahhhh, almos' forgot... NBA seasonopens tonight, from the Chronicle Sporting Green, David Steele's take on NBA shenanigans
and then the weekend goeth away... 10.27
and, uhhhh, like Muy Pronto!, whew...
not sure we likes to have our weekend so filled with stuff, nothing major or unpleasant, just hardly seemed like we had anytime for ourowndarnself and maybe it be the crankiness of approaching geezerdom (approaching? we hear some of ya quacking...) that even with that illusory additional hour it seemed like friday end of workday came along and then ourowndamnself had to be back here at fishwrap central again, oh okay, we hear ya Binky, and we'll stop whining now.
Read about a new bit of ugliness when visiting Looka earlier this day, reading the last item on his Friday post, then during our leisurely perusal of Democratic Underground's Top Ten Conservative Idiots, we noticed mention of that same ugly little item at the number six spot, and, well, you'll just have to find some way to forgive us for this, but one particular tune we've been listening to of late comes to mind at the thought of that wacky A. Coulter person, and you can listen to it by clicking here.
Returning to the comfy confines of our cubicle here on the killing floor of the Chronicle after our midmorning break where we espied old poster for an event we were unable to attend but thanks to the modern miracles of computers and the internet we'll be able to view the event at home in our jammies, likely with fine cuppa alongside. Which event you talking 'bout Willis, we hearz you asking, well then, my pretteez, hie thyselves here to locate a collection of streaming video files of past
events held at the U.C. Graduate School of Journalism.
okay, una cosa mas, we'd love to see the truth come out on all of this, and would consider ourself damn lucky to live so long. What are they hiding?
the weekend approacheth... 10.24
and our need for the brief respite it provides from humdrum workday tribulations (as well as alla the rest of these daily stresses) is GREAT! Wanna Dance? Wanna Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture? waaal then Binky, you have come to the right place: Yourstuly was channel surfin' one fine day and came across a video via CMC (California Music Channel), it got right into our nervous system resulting in purchase of same a day later and much enjoyment of Andre 3000 & Big Boi's work, almos' too much fun, haven't been that excited by a pop tune in many moons. You can espy the video yourowndarnself on this page; a like minded person makes mention of video here, and for your listening pleasure, we got it for you Right Here, may we suggest you Turn It Up, Binky!
lovely foggy morning in the neighborhood... 10.23
and we nice & cozy in chez d'monquis, listening to
Elliott Smith's either/or,
probably our ceedee mas favorito de Elliott, here's a little taste for you, say yes,
oh, and jessferdahalibut, cupid's trick, also from the either/or album...
very sad news... 10.22
no, Elliott Smith was not a personal friend, but his music
and lyrics meant a great deal to us, so this news of his suicide is very depressing. there's been mention of Elliott Smith hereabouts previously, wethinks our earliest mention was our post of 5.1.00, which mentioned this Salon story, kind of horrible coincidence, no?
Yo! Rummy!
we got your 'Long, Hard Slog' hangin'... ohhhhh, how we dislikes this bunch of dangerous fools runnin' the show...
now that we've sort of gotten caught up...
and before our forgetfulness triumphs, celebrate 40 years of the New York Review of Books by visiting, maybe sign up
for a subscription, eh? OR maybe you want to give one to someone you like a whole lot, kind of a nice not very usual kind of gift. Then something interesting that you can find at the New Yorker on-line, to be published in the issue of 10.27: The Stovepipe, by Seymour Hersh, and then maybe we be back here later, dependent upon opportunity & motivation...
the goddess occasionally gets playful... 10.21
& when that happens one is reminded of what is/isn't important, amigos estimados, & in the grand scheme of things we know d'monkey is not terribly important...
we sent the note below out yesterday to several friends who wrote during the pitas server outage querying "Hey, wha' happened?"
> dumbmonkey.pitas.com 404.
i know, it's a drag, believe me, not sure
what be going on there at the pitas server-
anyway, here's something like what I intended
to post sometime (mostly by late in the day) yesterday (that yesterday being Sun 10.19):
yourstruly was a mere stripling, a churlish knave, when he
first appeared on these left coast shores, so wet behind the
ears that moss grew there, but kind folk took pity on him
and indulged him, allowed him much room to grow and ingest
all the wonderful strangeness around him, patiently exposing all manner of marvelous ideas and philosophies to him, yet before
he was under the protection of these friends, while he was still
alone, he was terribly unhappy, as his arrival on the left coast was
a result of a horrible decision he had made barely seven moons
earlier, and this was a young man-child who grew up in a west
texass backwater, whose experience of the world was limited to
certain works of film and literature, and therefore certainly lacking
in depth & breadth, but also terribly short on the reality of things.
Something came along to provide him a great deal of comfort and
bolster his sense of security & confidence and it happened inside the
old Moe's Bookstore on Telegraph Ave where he located a copy of
the book you'll see in this link,
a large format paperback work with the text alongside lovely black
and white photographs. It accompanied him everywhere, very nearly,
carrying it in his backback on his expeditions via AC Transit into
Berkeley where he would find a place to sit quietly along one of the
creeks flowing through the Eucalyptus Grove on the west side of
campus; there he'd read some of the chapters and meditate
upon them, and in the quiet dappled light underneath the great trees,
with the sound of the water in the creek, the birds, the distant beat
of the conga drummers in Sproul Plaza, he discovered some way to center
inwardly, to remove himself from the pain and unhappiness that plagued
his day & more easily accept what the world had provided for him to
experience, to learn and grow from it. It is a little surprising that these
days, nearly 3 decades later, the words of the Tao Teh Ching
still provide much of what nourished him so many years ago. *** & by the way, inspiration for our recalling that youthful introduction to the Tao Teh Ching should be credited to S. J. Green's Plep, the October 18th linky goodness in particutlar***
l'Marquis enjoyed a long stroll yesterday, pausing along the way
and savoring the flavors and atmosphere of a street fair held along
the middle stretch of Shattuck Avenue, a neighborhood often referred
to as the gourmet ghetto (not as gourmet as it might have been a dozen
or more years ago, the charcuterie long gone, but Chez Panisse and
The Cheeseboard Collective still are going strong, along with a few other
restaurants). Many people out on a pleasant, albeit rather humid Sunday
afternoon, some occasional high cloudiness providing some protection
from direct sunlight on a warm October afternoon. One thing that was
hard to ignore was the number of young parents with their child in stroller,
many with an additional toddler or two waddling about alongside. One
pleasant feature of this street fair was the block furthest south was devoted
to some carnival like attractions with rides for the children that teemed in
the throngs of folk enjoying the afternoon. We continued on past the
attractions and walked on to the downtown area, where we stopped and
enjoyed a refreshing Boont Amber Ale in the cool shadows of Jupiter,
then caught an early matinee of Mystic River. You've already likely read
or heard elsewhere of the stellar cast in this film, all in top form, and guided
by the very confident hand of a certain C. Eastwood. There is a moment
in the film, oh, perhaps more than a little over halfway through it, where
in a scene where the two police officers we follow throughout the film are
in a small neighborhood liquor store, interviewing the proprietor, and for
those of you old enough (and canny enough to realize) you might smile
as l'Marquis did once you recognize the actor in the role of the store owner,
and think back to how long his acquaintence goes with The Man With No Name.
(Funny co-incidence, later on Sunday evening AMC is broadcasting
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, and there is that fellow again,
a much younger version, and a lovely sort of "closure" is sensed, viewing
this man in the film earlier that afternoon, decades after his role in that landmark
spaghetti western we watched later that evening) No, we didn't stay up for
the whole thing. It had been a rather tiring weekend and the work week loomed
ahead, so l'Marquis soon retired to the royal bedchamber, where he likely snored
his posterior off, but melodically, mind you, sonorously and melodically...
hope you have a good day!
okay! so pitas is back up and running, (way to go Andrew!)
and jessferdahalibut, here's one chapter of the Tao Teh Ching
that has provided much in the way of spiritual nourishment to yourstruly:
Accept disgrace willingly.
Accept misfortune as the human condition.
What do you mean by "Accept disgrace willingly"?
Accept being unimportant.
Do not be concerned with loss or gain.
This is called "accepting disgrace willingly."
What do you mean by "Accept misfortune as the human condition"?
Misfortune comes from having a body.
Without a body, how could there be misfortune?
Surrender yourself humbly; then you can be trusted to care for all things.
Love the world as your own self; then you can truly care for all things.
Sunday in San Leandro, mid-morning, walking through the vast aisles of Gray Wolf Books, unhurriedly scanning the shelves, pausing to pull away the books from the foremost part of the shelves in fiction, where like in many of the other areas of this immense bookstore, the books are aligned on shelves two rows deep, what marvels might be stashed away here in the recesses of these shelves he wonders.
His companion seeks out books in another section and when he goes to find her, he discovers the poetry titles are arranged a little further down the passageway where she stands and searches. He immediately locates an interesting compilation of Bay Area poets, pulls it off the shelf and it joins the group of four other titles he is already carrying, continues to look through the shelves, pausing to pull a title away and examine the book, open it and seek out some verse, weighing it in his mind, in many instances putting it back amongst its neighbors. There's a thin hardcover, the title across the spine Bite Every Sorrow, a woman's name he doesn't recognize but the dust cover appears new and pulling it from the shelf he finds a book that is practically so, some wrinkling and smudging of some kind on the front of the dust cover, the picture on the cover an image of four dogs, and in his initial examination of that picture is reminded of his dog, now dead two years. Then he opens the book and reads a couple of the poems, decides to keep this one instead, puts the other back
and tells B. he is going back to the fiction shelves.
Days later, he has returned home from lunch with pal L., meeting at Cody's on Berkeley's 4th Street. Walking the aisles there briefly, fighting the impulse to purchase this book or that one, the one that staff person has pulled off a nearby shelf to suggest to them both "this is a W O N D E R F U L book", temptation abounds on each aisle. Once they've escaped, each of them with new book in hand, walking to Brennan's he's describing how long his own familiarity with the restaurant goes, as L. has never been there, over two decades now, months living only a few blocks away as caretaker/watchman in a 9th Street four-plex he was part of the renovation crew on. Like Giovanni's in downtown Berkeley a decade later, a place where he would often go for dinner and socializing, visiting so regularly that he became familiar to the bartenders (Anchor Steam? they'd ask knowingly...) and the chinese men working behind the steam line serving up heaping portions of turkey dinners, corned & roast beef or pastrami sandwiches to as mixed and motley a crowd as you can imagine. Conversation over lunch involves mutual disenchantment with the killing floor at fishwrap classifieds, a place where L. had worked previously, their friendship beginning when L. returned nearly four years ago. More talk about the single life that L. is now experiencing, a little about his son in school and learning to read. He responds to L.'s mention of recent lunch with someone whom he imagined to be married woman with children by describing some of his mis-adventures exploring the possiblilities available in the universe of Craig's List personals. After lunch he mentions a desire for some
strawberry ice cream, L. saves the day and shows him where he can buy some delicious gelato, and best of all, strawberry is available.
Back at home shortly afterwards, in Albany, while checking on email messages, he is looking again through the pile of books brought home from Grey Wolf on Sunday, pulls out the book of poetry, and in-between responding to some mail and reading of others, he reads some of the poetry more carefully, thinking how fine these lines are, and feeling curious about who this poet is he opens the back cover, looks at the inside of the dust cover and nearly gasps with surprise. He knows this woman, well, more exactly knew this woman, years ago, during that time he was a familiar in Giovanni's restaurant ( nearly every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday of the NBA season--no cable TV at the apartment) and managing Berkeley's finest independent video store, Barbara Ras had been a customer there. Not just a customer though, and this is what makes this discovery so
wonderful in a rather bittersweet kind of way, she was someone whom he had developed a minor crush over, recalling that little frisson of happiness each time she happened to come into the video store, especially when great good fortune allowed that he be the fellow assisting her that day. She had a wonderful smile and was (in the recalling of it) always so nice, so easy to talk to. After recovering a little bit from that little shock of realization, he noted that the book is dedicated to
Alfred then, when examing her photograph again, he notes the photo is credited to Alfred Rucker and again, a little shock of
rememberance, he can almost visualize the "Rental Membership Agreement" kept on file in Palmer's, he can see their two names, Rucker/Ras, but cannot recall meeting him or being introduced, although it was likely that occured, as he was constantly running into customers in different places around town. He decides to write his friend in N. Carolina, she's at work and apparently coming down with a cold, and in his reply to her earlier email he tells her about this marvelous little surprise, tiny magickal co-incidence and relives the moment of serendipitous happiness of running into a friend from many years past.
oncet upon a time... 10.15
yourstruly tapped his toesies to tunes by Bonnie Hayes & her Wild Combo, oh, wuz we young & footloose (like Kevin Bacon) in those days... oh Yessss we Wuz...
well, like many of the rest of us, Bonnie's a survivor (and how!) of that music biz monkeebusiness so we were especially happy to come across fishwrap feature on Ms. Hayes & her musical career and find ourselves bowing deeply in her direction as we offer up a tip o' da ol'red fez, "way to go, bonnie hayes!"
and Bondage (ahhh, you know how l'Marquis feels about bondage, don't ya Binky?) Records? hard to find at the moment, according to this
geology remains a subject we've some fascination with... 10.13
was reminded of this when we came across item by Keay Davidson in the monday fishwrap which brought to mind a work by an author named John McPhee, a great favorite of ours, that work being Assembling California. Don't think for a minute though that the subject of geology and "place" is all that Mr. McPhee specializes in. Long time readers of the New Yorker magazine will be familiar with the width and breadth of his accomplishments as a writer, sharing with us his experience on whatever adventure he has chosen to spend his days at. Happens that there is a fine web site devoted to Mr. McPhee & his work, and several of his books re geology are grouped together under the title Annals of the Former World. Yourstruly was attempting to recall the first thing we might have read by John McPhee and it might very likely be
A Sense of Where You Are as that work was about basketball, specifically about Bill Bradley, in his playing days as a one-time New York Knickerbocker and anyone who knows the d'monkey to any real degree will tell you he's been a hoops fan for a lengthy period of time. We will wager though, that somewhere in that list of John McPhee titles lies one that you will find enjoyable and worthy of a leisurely perusal, and perhaps you'll develop a J. McPhee habit of your very own, if you haven't already... oh, and by the way, re monkeys in the news of late;
Today, a robot arm; Tomorrow, WORLD DOMINATION!
good thing yourstruly's generally so good-natured...
else we'd be feeling slightly envious & resentful of those of you out there enjoying a holiday whilst some of us have to go in & do our trick at the j-o-b, and NO, the fact that yourstruly was laid up last week for a few days does not count as holiday, no way, no how...
enjoyed a pleasant weekend in company of pal B., did some shopping at what is likely the best used bookstore in the S.F. Bay Area, Grey Wolf Books, located on 14th St in San Leandro, and boyOhboy, do they have LOTS of books. Spent part of our sunday in purely recreational mode, reading (what did ya expect after the visit to Grey Wolf?) and watching some tube, particularly later in the evening, caught Martin Sheen as honored guest on Inside the Actor's Studio. Despite the brevity of the actual interview, there were several moments that ourowndarnself found very moving. If you were to jump in the Way Back Machine and visit d'monkey of 7.19.00, we linked to onetime Mighty Big TV item, now it's a Television Without Pityitem about Mr. Sheen, and if you've been paying attention, you will already have some idea that when it comes to practical realities, Mr. Sheen Walks the Walk, just as he (righteously) Talks the Talk. Anyway, as the program is closing & shortly after a very personal & revealing moment which we found (again) very moving, he tells a little story about the time he was involved in the making of Gandhi and recites from memory a verse by Rabindranath Tagore, which he'd heard recited to him by fellow thespian while they were walking together one day, and (man, isn't the internet a wonderful thing) you can hear Martin recite it here.
If you like this sort of thing (we can take Mr Lipton's style in stride by now...) you might make a note of the re-broadcasts of the interview, the timliest appear to be in November. We'll close this minor tribute to Mr. S by offering up our opinion that the world will be a lesser place when Mr. Sheen exits stage left...
snuck a look at the Book Review Section... 10.10
of this Sunday's Fishwrap which led us to this web site: San Franciso Bay: Portrait of an Estuary,
and if you've someone on your shopping list who might enjoy a copy,
you can order it directly from University of California Press ahhhhhh... the weekend approacheth...
part of the reason there is such tremendous ignorance... 10.9
in this nation re the cad-ministration's rationale towards the attack on and subjugation of Iraq is largely our own fault. People choose to watch insipid & worthless programs on television in the same way they choose to eat fat & sugar-laden foodstuffs, recklessly and heedless of consequences to their welfare, preferring to avoid the conscious choice of recognizing their responsibility as citizens, their culpability in allowing a moronic head of state and his cabinet of scalawags to further an agenda that does not lessen the threat of terrorism in the world and only insures that America continues to be perceived as a nation whose polices are governed by greed & larcenous intent. On many PBS stations in this country tonight, Frontline is featuring a program entitled truth, war, & consequences. yourstruly is watching it now, and it is a painful experience, particularly painful because we have some idea of how few people are actually watching, simultaneously realizing how great a tragedy it is that those who aren't, will likely not ever make the effort to see it. For some of you who were simply unaware, and would like the opportunity to view it, it will be available to view on-line, after the 11th of the month. Tell your friends.
One other thing, and we're indebted to Gordon Coale for this, If Americans Knew. Share that with your friends, too...
reassured, but just barely...
thanks to amiga estimada Betsey C. for her comforting note of correction: won't fly unless/until we change the constitution, which we can't do by the next prez election, so your hallucinations are just
fever-induced imaginings;
and ourowngoshdarnedreaction? w h e w . . . we replied.
also, muchas gracias a Betsey for providing linky goodness to Tom Dispatch: Spending Your Tax Dollars in Iraq
...long may you run...
salutations & congratulations to Mark, the fine mind behind wood s lot. Always a pleasure to visit and enjoy the lovely linky goodness he makes available to us there, and in kind of that spirit of celebrating good folks with good hearts bloggin' away, and trying to do it daily, some other folks we been reading recently (besides the usual suspects):
NEOFLUX.COM; Skeptical Notion; The Masses are Asses (our new publishing effort is gonna be called My Ass is SO Massive!); Cursor.org; Easter Lemming; Notes on the Atrocities; way down here; Hoffmania; au currant (their spelling, Binky-- & we assume intentional-- not ours...); and many of these folks will likely be conscripted & regularly found on the aawwwshit page, perhaps part of our starfield of bloggos favoritos, quien sabe, eh? And again, we tippin' da ol' red fez inna direction of Mark W. and many of those Wizards of Weblogging on the aawwwshit page, who've set the bar pretty damn high for the rest of us.
Oh, almos' forgot. Caught this out of yesterdays fishwrap,
(and we tippin' da ol' red fez inna BIG way to these fine folks) Berkeley's Cheeseboard Collective, Aging Well;
and folks, believe l'Marquis, for he knows of what he speaks,
they make some damn fine pizza there, come and get some...
...what's wrong with you people? 10.8
inquires dear pal o'ours MellieMel, and we wish we knew, oh yessssss we do.
yourstruly been laid low for a few days, l'Marquis recognized that warning tickle in his throat late Sunday and
knew something unpleasant was afoot, really thought we'd nipped it in the bud by playing it safe and staying away
from the killing floor at fishwrap central on Monday, feeling a bit better yesterday, but now all stuffy headed and
sneezy, but no sore throat. ahhhhh, perhaps some kind of awful allergic reaction to the reality of the New Day in California Politics. Watch out, gurlz und boyz, your next governor might be some second rate overpaid hollywood star.
so, on this day of celebration in the schwarzengger household, in case any of you might be interested in the reality behind
musclehead's victory at the polls, the NY Times has a little interactive widget that will provide you graphic illustration of the distribution of the No VS Yes on recall votes. It happens to be a Flash-thingie & we cannot find a way to link to the damned thing directly, and then again, you might not be interested at all, it is small recompense anyway, to know one lives in a county that voted against the recall, that preferred the bluster of Bustamente over the belligerence of Ahhnoldt, but this morning, we'll take comfort wherever we can find it. And on top of this bullshit, the A's managed to go down in flames again, and we happy we happen to be a rather lukewarm baseball fan otherwise we'd be feelin' REALLY crappy. And we feelz for the Giants fans of our acquaintence, yesssss we do....
ya know, ideas like Jefferson & Cascadia are really beginning to interest us, as we have long been in favor of California Secession... oh dear, for a moment there we imagined Arnold leading a true revolution that would include a movement to secede and that we decided to leap on that bandwagon and JOIN HIM!
must be the medication, better hie ourself back to the comfort and cozy confines of the royal bedchamber, and no, thank you very much, we don't EVEN want to be thinking about that election in 2004 right now...
perseverence...
el horroscopo de yourstruly yesterday: You were built to stand the test of time. (oh Yah!) It's why things take twice as long to come together for you.
(we thought it was just 'cause we'z a lazy mo-fo...) One day you'll be set for life. Yah! and on that day monkees might fly outta my butt...
SO- we wuz watching the evening news yeaterday, ol' musclehead in hot water due to his "behaving badly" ('course it was on a rowdy movie set where everyone knows you have to expect that kind of thing, right?) and we watch this bit of video, Mr. Pump You Up being interviewed for
British TV, and the dude is nearly salivating with undisguised salaciousness; Lo & Behold, thanks to the fishwrap's electronic counterpart SF Gate, you can view it for yourself.
goshdarnitall, we almos' forgot-
been wanting to share with you more of Don Asmussen's madness: Bad Reporter of 9.28 Bad Reporter of 9.30 Bad Reporter of 10.2
we figure Tony's smart and...
would want NOTHING to do with the governorship,
but he's got our vote as mayor of Los Angeles...
and before we get to the next item on our agenda this Am,
we offer up this link to great (fairly recent) interview w/Dr. Gonzo,
who has a lot to say about the state of the nation & the elecorate in general, then point you in the direction of Mr. Morford's commentary: our knowledge of the vapidity of the American public in general and California voters in particular bodes ill, may be time for yourstruly to consider relocating, any suggestions?
for our galpals & wimminfolk in general...
"wossamotta binky?" l'Marquis inquired solicitously,
"can't figger out yo' man?"
maybe some assistance available from Michael Gurian HA! we doubts it tho'...
and this, by the way, is an excellent question...
l'Marquis will be feelin' much more optimistic...
when we see similiar numbers as reflected in this news item
in all the red states that we recall from this map.
And while we're talking about numbers,
here are some particularly ugly ones... egads! ourowndamnself often dismayed by cost of living, but this...
in just a bit over a year from now...
your friends and family, your co-workers, those many faces you see around you every day, will be making a damned momentous decision: continue to allow the present administration full rein in fulfilling their agenda of self interest and corporate welfare, or to put a resounding stop to it and effectively stand up and say "we are mad as hell and we're not going to take it any more." yourstruly's aware that many of you are paying attention, it is up to us to try and heighten that awareness amongst those around us to increase their attention spans and widen their eyes, open them up and allow a greater perception of what has occured in this country under the guise of a war against terrorism.
from the Village Voice on-line: The Secrets Clark Kept;
from Democracy Now: Military Families And Soldiers Speak Out Against War;
from PBS Newshour: General Zinni reflects on the Iraq War. we've got to start speaking up, Binky,
the alternative is unthinkable...
the document heralding the apocalypse deciphered as September
for a lousy way to spend a day off, so we be here futzing around for just a bit,
while the laundry's being taken care of, then we'll hang it out on the line and take care
of some Pm chores. While waiting we were reading todays fishwrap and found a couple of stories
of local interest beginning with one containing a truly local angle on 
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