October 29th, 2007 ryan
After a few hours at work the constant thrum of servers and needling fluorescent lights take their toll and I can typically be found escaping the premise for some fresh air, whether I have a reason or not.
I’ll often lurk around a few block radius, listening to music or sometimes shooting photos, but mostly I hoof it to the public library to either hear the echoing clack of my dress shoes as others are reading, always thrilling, or perhaps to return what bound and battered pages I can derive no further satisfaction from.
Today’s brief journey yielded a few sparse notes of interest:
- Older Lady (70?) emerges from office building wearing garments that scream a fashion sense decades old; hair secure in a scarf, gloves that match a handbag, and a no-kidding cigarette holder doubled in her equally fashionable sunglasses. Oh yes, and a clearly visible tongue piercing, the visage of which now haunts me nearly an hour later. How did I see her tongue as she lit a cigarette? Just use your imagination and shiver as I did. It was like watching a giraffe strip the leaves from a tree. Terrifying.
- Youngish girl, noticeable only because I thought folks of the younger persuasion should be in school mid-day, was checking out ahead of me burdened with no less than four towering tomes of HTML/CSS, JAVA, and the like. I’m a horrible judge of age but it was like the part in the first Men in Black with the little girl carrying the book on quantum physics. I did not shoot her in the forehead.
- Exiting the literature section brought me face to face with no other than one Neal Gaiman!
His face at least, on a poster, recommending various tribles of things he finds of personal interest (see: Dave McKean and Tori Amos). He had a beard. I’ve only been an active fan of his work for the last 11 years or so but it’s still weird, and cool mind you, to see a bookstore end-cap bear his name or something comparable to the poster in the library. You know, out there and commercially popular.
Posted in Mundane, POTD, So one time... | No Comments »
October 26th, 2007 ryan
For the past year I would estimate that I come within 6 feet of roughly 15 homeless people a day. If not homeless perhaps pan-handling. It is with an urban-indifference that I continue my asphalt march amongst the other lemmings, by chance only hearing a few seconds of what these folks have to say, smelling more than I would like to admit.
Tucson was the same way, I would see the same people every day, never doing more than modifying my gait to avoid direct confrontation. I’m not proud of how I act, but I can see few logical alternatives.
Monday I made the normal brisk 18-block walk from the train as I always do; hands encased in pockets and headphones at a moderate level. Old habits die hard and I’d say my level of observation is above average, and it was with a slight lessening of my pace that I saw a fuzzy orange face staring up at me. Some kid, couldn’t say if he is 15 or 25, was sitting as many of the homeless do along the sidewalk, face a blank stare and hands clutching an oil-stained cardboard which in so few words expresses their affliction, their needs, their cries for help.
The orange face was that of a full grown cat that the young man was bonelessly supporting in the crook of his arm, sharing what he could of his threadbare sweatshirt. The cat’s entire head followed me as I passed, looking up at me as I looked right back down at him.
I continued on, feeling a range of emotions but quickly dismissed, as is my well honed practice, the thoughts of this unfortunate fellow and his feline. What was I supposed to do? Am I less of a person for caring more about the cat than the dozens of people I see every single day? These questions went unanswered as I put the blocks behind me.
Each morning this week the kid was in the same spot, and the eyes of that orange face bore into mine no less than they did that first day.
Of late I am in the habit of overwhelming myself with distraction as often and steadfastly as possible. This is truer in no other place than when on the train. I seek out the isolated seat in the top corner, select a playlist, and open a book. If I’m lucky no one will sit across from me and I can see the suburbs turn to cityscape through the green tint of the train’s windows. I began my morning ritual as usual but found myself reading the same page over and over, that cat’s face creeping back in my mind’s view. Then the kid’s, infinetely less expressive- easy to tell which of the two had given up and which refused to suppress it’s own innate desire for well-being and longevity.
Mind made up I walked ears open to the usual spot, then adjacent corner, finally whole other block. Walking away from my usual route I could appreciate the irony of the situation, but just barely.
Maybe next week.
Posted in Chicago, Stuff I Hate, Utterance | No Comments »
October 24th, 2007 ryan
Fuck. Yes.
Preparing for the the post-apocalyptic dystopia that certainly will arise once the fires have finished burning down the societies of southern California.
Ah, and Ryan..Pick up that can.
Tom my friend, you have atoned for borrowing that one book and not returning it for 8 years. Nicely executed.
Posted in Gas Masks, Nerd | No Comments »
October 23rd, 2007 ryan
As usual, Southern California is burning.
(photo by Genaro Molina / LA Times)
Google mash up here with the latest and greatest geographical info on what’s burning, what shelters are still available, and so on. Family out there has said that the cell and land line phone systems are, predictably, running at or above capacity so the intertron seems to be more reliable.
Given the extreme seriousness of these fires’ impact on the human element I sit back and naturally my mind processes the information as it applies to me, having once lived in but currently being safe and far from the danger zone. I think of the ways that my current location differs in terms of preparedness, or what I would have to bring if the order to evacuate was given. But there is something else that is stronger than all other considerations, and that is of finally being able to live in what is in my mind a romanticized view of a Dystopia.
(photo from flickr user Justinm)
Mad Max, Bladerunner, 1984, Equilibrium, Night of the Living Dead. Scenes portraying utter despair, dismemberment, and societal detritus. Though my stomach may be turned there is the part of me that yearns for the chance to see how I’d fair against a zombie invasion, or a board-game come to life, or any situation in which the delicate balance of civilization is thrown into epic upheaval. Gas mask in place, self-fashioned shoulder pads askew, windows boarded, and powdered petro-chemical fuel in tow. What. Is. Up.
(photo from flickr user Laphoto1)
Yes, my views are heavily, heavily glorified and there are those that would be perfectly proper in pointing out that the harsh reality would send the nerd in me screaming. However, I’ve been there – the situations in which life and death are decided, the frailty of so much meat and bone exposed to a combination of skill, luck and fate. I’ve tried to explain how in those situations, as long as no one gets hurt, the whole thing becomes unbearably hilarious. One of my buddies, to this day, receives a good ribbing whenever the story is told of his movie-action-hero leap through the air as he narrowly avoided an explosion. No joke, it was like every single leap you might have borne witness to as our Hero and Heroine slow-motion jump just before the warehouse erupts in flame and smoke. He escaped unscathed, and is therefore fair game.
To be honest I’m just bored, and if given an actual opportunity to embrace conflict simply for conflict’s sake my more rational half (yes, I do have one of those) would win out. When life has reached 11 even a 9 seems muted, dull. What can I say.
To paraphrase Sun Tzu; the true warrior avoids conflict, and the fastest swords are seldom drawn. As it should be, I’m mostly content with a danger-free lifestyle and just because I enjoy adventure the discontent of others isn’t justified. Take what I have stated in my rambling utterances with a grain, if not handful, of salt.
In conclusion, I hope all the folks out at Quallcomm Stadium are safe, and that man wins the next round of this annual bout with minimal collateral damage or ill-effects towards those in the area.
Note: There will be hell to pay if I don’t get at least one ash-covered, gas mask adorned glory shot, Tom. So you best man up and produce the goods.
Posted in Burnination, SoCal, Utterance | No Comments »
October 22nd, 2007 ryan
It is with an enjoyable auditory hangover ( 17 hours later, ears still ringing) that I put to paper, sort of, my observations of last night’s Type O show. As mentioned in an earlier posting I was surprised when the listing came up for them to make a visit to Chitown, having just been here in April. Despite my surprise I acted quickly and acquired the required paper stubbery.
The venue changed from the Metro to the Vic Theatre, a move I welcomed since seeing Gogol Bordello there a while back. Wasn’t able to shoot any photos this time around, which was a bummer but to be expected.
The opening act was a death metal band from Finland which was a lot better than I thought they’d be. The best part of their performance is a toss up between the lead singer’s robotic wings, LED-studded battle ax microphone stand, and the chainsaw that sprayed fake blood.
After a brief interlude the familiar silhouette of type o’s front man, clad in canonical collar, crossed the stage casting his hefty shadow across the backdrop of the modified Casper David Friedrich painting After Dark (or German Romantic Painting) fans found familiar. The band’s other three joined and the recital began.
As usual all four of the band’s members radiated pure energy, uniquely, which is was struck me so sharply the first time I saw them live. Highlights of the show included the entire crowd screaming the final words to Kill All the White People, expected vocalization of “Jesus Christ looks like me” by Pete, and fake snow sprayed about for Too Late: Frozen.
They played a bit from each album and while I sincerely enjoyed their last two it remains the style of their first that I always go back to as my favorite.
Pete wished us all a very happy Halloween following the encore and those present withdrew satisfied until next the four dicks from Brooklyn visit again.
Posted in Music, So one time... | No Comments »
October 18th, 2007 ryan
It may not have a fiery disembodied eye, but it’s just as evil, controlling, and unseemly.
It was requested that someone take some shots of the office and it’s scaly-skinned inhabitants for some shindig on the east coast at which various pictures will be shown of the firm’s eleven offices. Everyone took a step back as I stood still, so naturally I made my commute camera in tow.
Things were going well as it had just rained and we finally had some sunshine until I was accosted by Local Security Guard 1 and politely informed that I would have to go to the office of the building in order to obtain permission to photograph the lobby. This is far from the first time I have been given such a spiel and hesitated only a moment in deciding whether or not I would be a grade-a dick to this guy or not. I opted against and complied, mumbling “Citizen, pick up that can.” under my breath.
Part of me wanted to turn around and explain that no, this being a public area- though on private property- I was not actually violating anyone’s expectation of privacy nor was I guilty of intrusion, using the photos in false light, revealing private facts, or intending misappropriation. Such a diatribe would have ultimately resulted in a blank stare anyways so really, what was the point.
I’m generally of a calm, controlled disposition and prone to avoiding conflict. Life is too damn short and I don’t find my time well-spent picking every bone that is thrown my way for the sake of being right or proving others wrong. I assure you that I am of the persuasion that firmly believes in both a firm security policy and it’s enforcement.
I feel for the guy because some geek in a tie holding an SLR isn’t what a security guard wants putzing around his lobby in this media-centric world we live in. In fact, he didn’t request I delete the shots or hand over my camera, which naturally would have put a different spin on the encounter all together.
All told it was decidedly a non-event barely worth commenting on, but I could easily see where others could be strong armed into an uncomfortable situation if there were not well informed. I’ve been harboring a bit of pent up aggression,looking to pick a fight, and perhaps this electronic medium is better suited than my building’s security force, so I am proud to say that my keen discretion won out in this particular scenario.
Posted in POTD, Stuff I Hate | No Comments »
October 17th, 2007 ryan
Whilst rolling my feline across the floor, as is our customary greeting when I get home from work, he reached out and left me a reminder of his unyielding admiration and affection.
I’ll stop blogging about my cat any day now, honest.
Posted in Dirwoodgable, POTD | No Comments »
October 17th, 2007 ryan
I fell, as I do nearly every morning, pulled by the gravity of the intertron in it’s tangled web of neovictorian steampunk, heterogeneous tech sites, and fleeting pages of juvenile amusement. Terminal velocity was reached at jen365.blogspot.com in which the protagonist, an upbeat female on the verge of turning 30, swore an electronic oath to do something new every day for the entirety of a year. My curiosity was piqued.
Some of the best reading comes when that which is related has direct parallels in your own life. This not being the case for me, yet, I still found the chronicles of this blogger inspiring as well as entertaining. Whether it was peeling a banana only using your feet, wearing a fake mustache for a night, or getting certified to conduct CPR (which is very high on my own list) each entry was served as refreshingly new with a well-portioned side of commentary. (it’s time for lunch, sorry) Strangely, I haven’t found a negative entry yet, which makes me think that this Jen is actually some sort of robot, but all told it’s a lot of new things and a concept I found formidable.
Her commentary is remarkably self-assured, motivation pure, and goals practical. Plus there are near-daily pictures. This digital journal, spit through the tubes into the eyes and hearts of the willing, has both entertaining content and thought-provoking themes, thusly receiving my seal of approval.
(our champion)
If the mood strikes me I’ll have to post my proposed list of Things to Do Prior to Death or Worse, which is not in the spirit of the afore-mentioned site but can certainly be equally as thought-provoking.
Posted in Utterance | No Comments »
October 16th, 2007 ryan
A glance at the Monday That Should Not Be and a few of the more noteworthy events that could be discerned from its gore-encrusted, twenty-four hour wing span.
- Once in a great while my skull will regretfully act on its reproductive nature and attempt to give violent birth to deity. This leaves me in the fetal position clutching vainly at my dignity, consuming any and all drugs I can lay my hands on, and wearing sunglasses in an attempt to lessen the jackhammer that is fluorescent lighting.
At least this time I didn’t puke.
- I successfully launched (so I thought) a clever self-deprecating joke to break the ice with a new coworker at the office and it, how do you say, bombed horribly. Don’t worry, I quickly adjusted, pretending to get a message on my blackberry and made a hasty exit. It sounds pretty bad but …who am I kidding, it was bad.
- The 70 year old secretary everyone wants to retire drank about 6 glasses of wine at our office get together and was epicly thrashing any that would cross her path. Hilarity ensued as I ate bleu cheese and drank Heineken outside of caning range.
- Due to faulty signage and a problematic gate access system I found myself locked in the compound which houses my storage unit. As I write this on the train the next bloody morning my truck is sitting parked in a corner having been abandoned by my fence-hopping antics.
- The irony of the above situation is made all the more potent when one considers I went to the unit to get computer parts which would enable me to play Team Fortress 2 a la Orange box this evening. The whole infernal compound is lined with similarly orange gates, doors, and the like. Perhaps its only amusing when walking down these endless cinder block avenues in the rain, searching grumblingly for exit.
VS 
- I received the dessicated carapace of one Tarantula Hawk in the mail, carefully encased in a Warhammer blister pack complete with a mounting kit. This is the second dead animal I’ve received from the same generously disturbed soul.
- Then I saw this sweet bug. (Orthoptera: Tettigoniidae ?)
(Edit: looked around a bit, appears to be your standard Katydid. Found some impressive shots out and about as well. I grew up in the area I found this guy and can’t recall ever seeing one. Much less in October.)
- The night found its end in the auditory antics of KMFDM’s Angst, in its entirety, as I finally got around to working out. Picture Flashdance but with a geeked out exMarine wielding rusty free-weights.
It was easily twice as awesome as it sounds.
Posted in So one time..., Stuff I Hate | No Comments »
October 13th, 2007 ryan
Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
Not really though. Random kitten which the insanely cruel shelter folks put right at the front door to lure saps such as myself into adopting an armful. Face is different, and his arms match, but the markings are just like that of mein Woodgimus Prime.
“Yeah, that’s Woodgie and that’s his friend Woodgie 3.0″
“…what about Woodgie 2.0?”
“We don’t talk about him, do we Woodgie?”
“…”
Posted in Animalia, POTD | No Comments »
