Archive for August, 2009


Inglorious Bastards = Brilliant Movie

August 31, 2009

Far better and far less violent then I imagined. Without a doubt this is one of the best written movies I have seen.

Note to the squeamish,  there was no surprising gore, you have an opportunity to cover your eyes if you choose to.



You Should Have Seen This

August 30, 2009

Some dude compiled this  brilliant collection of internet classics


“99 things you should have already experienced on the internet  unless you are a loser or old or something”


Pearl Jam – Opening Night of their US Tour

August 30, 2009

Sometimes its good to just be a fan



Aiding (and abedding) Jackson (1 of 3)

August 28, 2009

For this post, suspend my “85% of a true story” disclaimer because this is an accurate representation of real events that transpired on Aug  27th, 2009.

Just don’t tell my mom, because this is a story about picking up a hitchhiker.

Outside of Toledo Ohio, 15 hours of drive left until I reached Boston. I was only four hours into the journey and already so bored with myself that a hitchhiker holding a guitar case seemed like a good idea.

In my defense its near impossible to spot swastika tattoos from a moving vehicle, but you sure can’t miss them when they are on the arms and hands of the person sitting right next to you in the passenger seat.   When you are trading paper cuts for slivers you know that you’re fucked.

Me: “Hey man, where ya headed”

Jackson:  “Canadian border”.

This is how I met Jackson, and how I (probably) aided and abetted a felon.

*(note:  when reading the dialogue in this post please apply an over-the-top, extremely slow and slightly inbred Mississippi drawl to Jackson and a smart snappy “You’re fucking with me, right? ” sarcastic tone to me)


Aiding (and abedding) Jackson (2 of 3)

August 28, 2009

Part 2 of 3

Jackson had one small bag and a guitar case.  Mind you, when he first got into the car I hadn’t spoken a word to another human being for a few hours plus by nature I am a bit of a tounge-in-cheek / foot-in-mouth  shit stirrer (remind me to tell you the story about my Mom and the Comcast guy which will back up my claim).

Me: “So, is that a guitar or a rifle in your case”

Jackson:  “Whose askin” long pause as Jackson realizes that I not the police, just some wise ass yankee “nah man, it’s a guitar” …Seizing the opportunity and before we were one mile into our trip….  Jackson:  “You want to hear some of my stuff”

Me: thinking “oh fuck no I don’t”

Me saying “….um ok”

For the next two hours I listened to what had to be the shittiest music ever made, it was horrible amateur heavy metal.  Each neverending song was as unlistenable as one that proceeded it, all were totally and utterly without merit, yet Jackson was relentless “So, do you like that one, do you think that one would make money?”.

At first I was patient and supportive,  Me: “It’s not really my sort of music…”

Jackson must have said at least four times PER SONG “Listen to this part, right here, this part is the best”.  “What did you think about that?”

It gets better… Jackson saw fit to provide an introduction to each song as well as running commentary as to what why he wrote each song.   Jackson:  “This one is about my sister and my dad, its called “Dismemberment”

For the most part the first half of our trip to the Canadian border (about 3 hours)  was spent listening to Jackson’s music, listening to Jackson talk about his music and listening to Jackson sing along to his music.

I began to do fake work on my blackberry including fake calls and faux emails.  Jackson was polite, he turned his music down until I pretended to hang-up from my fake call and he would say,  “Man, you missed the best part, let me start it from the beginning for you”.

Once the CD was finally over, Jackson said, “ Aww man, that ain’t half the shit I got, here let me read you some of songs I got that ain’t got no music yet”

So basically now I had some nazi felon reading me poems.  Holy shit this sucked and there is no way I can convey in words how uncomfortable and frankly embaressed I was for him when Jackson chose to stop reading the lines, opting to growl them out in his heavy metal monster voice (…so I could better grasp the context of the song his art).

His band was called “Out on Parole”




Aiding (and abedding) Jackson (3 of 3)

August 28, 2009

Part 3 of 3

Time for a new tactic.

After about a half dozen poems all about “these bars are like a prison,”  followed by Jackson asking me:  “So, what do you think about that one, it’s killer huh?”

Me:  “Sounds like you got a whole lot going on.  ….So what were you in jail for?”

Jackson: “Aww maan, once you in the system its always some bullllsheitt, I been in like five times now, I just got out from a felony stint in Texas, man Texas don’t play”

Me:  “Felony?”

Jackson, “Ya man, I got like three felonies, all for different shit, but ya see they ain’t all in the same state so there ain’t no three strikes rule, less of course you in California, but I got another one they fixin to stick on me but man I ain’t goin back, no man cause this time they ain’t gonna let me out, that’s why I am goin to Canada” Jackson continued

Jackson:  “My last run was only sixty-two days, got into an argument with my best friend back at home”

Me:  “How is that a felony?”

Jackson:  “He was all bothersome, like comin over and askin for can of peas or diggin around the couch lookin’ for a quarter, so he borrows my mp3 player and I says to him, you best bring that back by ten in the morning, and he didn’t bring that shit back till after noon, so I put a whoopin’ on his ass”

Jackson:  “This one other time I got five years for conspiracy to sell cocaine”

Me:  “Conspiracy?  What’s that mean?”

Jackson:  Well ya see I swallowed this bag of cocaine but the bag done broke, that was a  baaad night man I didn’t have no lawyer,  defended myself, and I told them this here is so bullsheeittt – they done hated me man”

Me: [Sounding sympathetic and concerned about his well-being (hell, anything not to listen to more poems)] “Hey man, you should  really cover up those swastikas when you get to the border, it could bring you some trouble”

Jackson:  “Ya man, no doubt, you know bout World War Three right?  …and Planet X”

Me:  “While I don’t subscribe to their ideaology, I have done quite a bit of reading bout the Nazi regime, their rise to power and how it has shaped not only modern Europe, but the entire western hemisphere, but what is Planet X?”

Jackson:  “Oh man,  Planet X is fucked up man, get this, so they have known about this since like 1986 but they ain’t tellin noone. No sirree.   So there is this planet that’s between Jupiter and Mars and in like 2012 its gonna like come right over us and the atmosphere s of America and Planet X, they are gonna like switch man, its gonna be bad man and this shit is real too.   You know how like when Noah built the arc, that shit is all Planet X man.”

Jackson and I parted ways near the border and I wished him well, but I am reasonably certain that he was apprehended long before he made it to customs.cover_sidebar1-1_45


But it sure looks nice

August 23, 2009

My first weeks in Chicago were spent at an airport hotel.  It sucked, truly.  But if I had to find something positive to say about it, I would have to go with the fact that my room faced west which really allowed me to appreciate the rather stunningly colorful sunsets.   While the flat open terrain certainly provided a huge palate –  I theorized that it was actually the pollution (in this instance toxic jet fuel resiude) that accentuated the streams of light.

Thankfully  I no longer live at the airport but I still spend time in that area and on occasion I manage to accidently catch a sunset.   This particular photo likely had nothing to do with pollution,  it was taken moments after a sunshower, but the effect is similar.