Monday, February 28, 2005

Academy Awards Yadda...

Some major oversights, as usual. Still, they could have screwed up every last award and I would have been fine with it as long as Charlie Kaufman won best original screenplay for Eternal Sunshine.

Happy sleepy time now. More to come. :)

Thursday, February 24, 2005

A Good Day For Music.

Just jumping on to send out three quick cheers for a landmark day for American music. Yesterday (hopefully) heralded the coming deaths of two truly dreadful bands, Korn and Blink-182.

First off, Blink-182... Yup, they are a number band. Just in case you didn't know, ALL bands that have numbers in their name are automatically lame. Yes, even that band that you like. Please note that this is only a hard and fast rule when you use the actual digits, but spelling out the numbers is cause for concern too. Anyway, a spokesperson for Blink-182 released a statement yesterday saying that the band was going on an "indefinite hiatus" ...wink, wink, nudge, nudge... Bliss!

Next comes the beginning of the end for Korn...and under the most amusing circumstances. One of their guitarists has quit the band because he found Jesus.

Pardon me for just one moment: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

Oh man, that is so good. Just think about that for a minute and let it sink in fully. Wow... You know, that guy must be onto something though. There obviously must be a glorious, loving, caring God watching over us if both Korn and Blink-182 can come undone on the same day.

Now there is is only one bullet left to dodge hopefully, Creed Syndrome. When Creed split up, the world rejoiced at the thought of a lifetime without any new Creed singles on the airwaves. However, the celebration was premature. Creed, upon destruction, split into two ENTIRELY NEW Creeds, one ruled by Scott Stapp and one by Mark Tremonti, to torment music lovers with twice as many shitty Christian-pop-alt-"metal" hits as before. Like a hydra, if you kill one head on the beast that is bad music, two more grow back in its place.

So, we may now be confronted with twice as much derivative, disposable pop-punk, and (please, say it aint so) another pro-Jesus version of Korn to go along with the already lame enough, nu-metal, pro-porno/strip club version we already have. Then what can we do about it?

www.youhavebadtasteinmusic.com

It's a start...God bless us all.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Experiment In Futility #1

Tonight I decided to deliberately have the most unhealthy evening that I possibly could without doing anything really and truly dangerous. Have you ever been in one of those periods in your life where you are trying to be extra aware of your health and lifestyle choices, but before you can begin to change your ways you feel the need to splurge a little bit? Well, I'm not really concerned about being healthy, but I still thought it would be fun to splurge. Heh... And so I began Experiment In Futility #1.

Warning: Do not attempt to recreate this experiment yourself, unless you happen to have the metabolism of a crystal-meth addicted, ADHD ferret, and/or chronic stomach disease. Trust me on this one.

Things began when I arrived home from work at around 6:15 pm, Central Time. I will admit that initially the impetus for this experiment was pure laziness, but great things sometimes come out of what are initially selfish pursuits. Looking in the fridge I saw hardly anything to eat. Not feeling like leaving to get food, I decided to snack a bit while checking my e-mail. This is when inspiration struck. I would spend the evening making choices as unhealthy as I possibly could without ever leaving my apartment or involving another human being.

Phase 1: I began as I planned, by checking my e-mail and snacking on random odds and ends. This quickly turned into a three hour marathon of internet surfing through banal blogs, just like this one, crude fan constructed web tributes to pop musicians, and Ikonboard forums with lots of posts about the supposed benefits of MDMA and marijuana use. By now I was really getting hungry, and so I prepared my supper.

Phase 2: I had a three course meal, consisting of 3.5 ounces of Lay's sour cream & onion flavored potato chips, around 1/2 cup of peanut M&M's, and 1.5 cups of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream with grape juice. All together this comes to around 84 grams of fat (37 grams saturated fat) and God only knows how many calories and whatnot. I think, if I sit quietly, I can actually hear my arteries hardening. The high salt content of my meal had made me quite thirsty as well, so I drank three large shots of Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey to wash it all down. Now things were really getting interesting.

Phase 3: I decide to complete this initial experiment by vegetating on the couch and watching TV for entirely too long. Sadly, the experimental data was tainted slightly due to the fact that I don't have cable and thus was forced to find entertainment on DVD, which was actually very good (five back-to-back episodes of Arrested Development). This is a slight confound, but I don't think it will negate the overall findings of the experiment.

Findings: And so, what are the findings of this experiment in futility? Sadly the data was inconclusive and so the experiment will need to be repeated before any definite conclusions may be reached. However, I can summarize my early impressions as follows (please note, these findings must be taken merely as conjecture until scientific process can confirm my initial suspicions): Making unhealthy lifestyle choices and behaving in ways that you know are not good for you do in fact make you feel unhealthy. You may be surprised to note that I feel quite bloated and queasy at the time of this writing, this in spite of my bizarro genetics. Though it is entertaining to "splurge" from time to time, it's only even marginally enjoyable if you don't do it all the time and to excess.

Unless there is cheesecake involved of course... (any sexual connotations absolutely intended)

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Amor Vincit Omnia.

Just wanted to pop on right quick for a quick PSA:

Fuck Valentine's Day.

Thank you. I love you all. Goodnight.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Bad Haiku 101

I was thinking earlier this week about starting an ongoing project wherein I would attempt to write the most awful haiku I could manage. For those unfamiliar, a haiku is a short poem. Each poem has only three lines, the first with five syllables, the second with seven syllables, and the last with five. Here are my first attempts:

#1

The wind howls with Love
Outside my bedroom window
Cats trying to fuck

#2

No pleasure more pure
Dropping the kids at the pool
While still on the clock

#3

The look of horror
Eyes burn below pools of tears
Silent but deadly

That will do for now, but I'll have more in the future. I would also like to encourage others to submit their awful haiku poetry here for public consumption. Feel free to leave it in a comment to this article, or e-mail it to me and I'll post it for you.

Let's rock!

Untitled

Don't talk
Don't say nothing
Let the sound disintegrate
Like crackles and pops
Electrical surges through skin
A material language
Scattering like rainfall

- The pond skater rides
Upon my Love letter -

- DKE

Don't Fade

Don't fade
Don't close your eyes
Don't run away
Now, when I need you most

Blood in the soil
Over burnt fields of green
Broken columns
And ivy growing over the dead

Terror of night
The failure of Love
Cities and lives to be rebuilt
Work to be done

Why do you keep on running?

- DKE

Possession Methodology

Slow
Like a glacier
Invisible push
irresistible pressure
Consuming
Until I surround

Tying threads
Hooked to all those secret places
The ones that feel good and bad
At the same time
Then hidden manipulations
Opening you inside out

Slipping a hand inside
Loosening the knot in your stomach
Planting my seed there
A secret tree
To throw shade
Across a brain

Just one push
One kiss
I'm inside

- DKE

Wisdom of the Far East

Tonight I went to eat with my brother at a Chinese buffet I'd never been to.

Worst...Chinese Food... EVER...

By far... It's hard to describe exactly how bad it was. A true abomination. And yet it was still worth it just for my fortune cookie. I'm sure you're familiar with the little game where you add "in bed" to your fortune in order to get your true reading. Well, check out this puppy:

Our first love and last love is...
Self-love.

...In bed.

Truer words may have never been spoken.