I'm tired and I'm listening to the Lost in Translation soundtrack yet again and I want to go to sleep but I won't because I stay up and I read blogs and I think too much.

Last night tried falling asleep but to no avail. This is happening all to often again. I used to just drink myself to sleep but I'm off the hard stuff and I'm just sipping a little red wine because it's better for my heart than the vodka was.

MST3K is a pretty good show to fall asleep to. It's damn funny beyond words, but the movies are so slow and shitty-paced that they lull you into a nice little sleepy-time, except the frequent commercial breaks force me to become cognizant enough to speed through them.


Where did all the commenters go? Why do I only get quality comments when I bitch about politics and Prez Bush?

So there you go my conservative friends and families. The real reason I write bad things about Bush.

Ratings.





This is not a rebel song. This is The Incredibles.

It's such a sneaky film. All them Pixar films are. They suck the kids in with the new fancy computer animation and the adults watch because they have to only after probably Toy Story 2 they realized that Pixar wasn't just making movies for their kids, just like J.K. Rowling stopped writing the Harry Potter books just for kids when she whipped out Prisoner of Azkaban about five years ago.

Pixar films are colorful and funny and kids love them but we adults love them too because they're about parental anxiety about their children and alienation and understanding your true identity in the world.

Poor Dash. His whole life he's been denied the chance to be himself, and when his mother finally tells him that, if the men come who are trying to kill him, he needs to run as fast as he can.

"As fast as I can?" Dash replies. The terror he should feel (those men will kill him) is replaced by this exultant joy that he finally gets to be himself, and let it all loose. And when he speeds through that forest as fast as he can I leaned forward in my seat and my smile almost reached to the back rows of the theater.

Hollywood won't bother telling a complex story about mid-life crises, suburban angst, and identity crises with real actors anymore. But somehow Pixar is able to sneak it in under our noses, and we get tricked into going to see a wonderful story with thrilling action and heart-raising emotion that just happens to be animated.




Good-bye John Ashcroft, you evil, freaky religious conservative bastard. This is the first good thing to happen to Bush's White House since the Bush twins moved in. Go anoint yourself with oil and cover up Justice's breasts somewhere else.

Okay, not much on The Incredibles tonight. I'm too damn tired to write what I want to say about it. But it's just further proof that Pixar is the most subversive group of artists out there. And I don't mean in the radical-overthrow-the-government way. More later.

I'm in the mood to talk about the Belfast Cowboy. The Voice of God.

Van Morrison.

First things first. Let me get this out of the way: I really kind of hate "Brown Eyed Girl." Mostly because it's "the" song whenever radio stations or movies feel the need to play Van the Man. Every once in a while he sneaks into something cool like Ulee's Gold, but for the most part it's fucking "Brown Eyed Girl" over and over.

People seem to have mostly forgotten about Van, relegating him to the classic rock stations and the occasional middle-aged yuppie romance, little more than an Irish version of Elton John. But Van's been putting out a new album every damn year for who knows how long, and while they're not all masterpieces, but he's been on a roll lately. The string of albums that includes Back on Top, Down the Road, and What's Wrong With This Picture have been pretty damn stellar. He may never rattle off a one-two punch like Astral Weeks and Moondance again (and follow up with Tupelo Honey and Veedon Fleece within three years), but Van's new stuff is very relevant and very wonderful.

If you want a tight group of blusey pop gems buy Back on Top. Down the Road had some filler, but there's some great stuff there, like his cover of Ray Charles' "Georgia On My Mind" (Ray was Van's hero.) And his Blue Note debut, What's Wrong With This Picture, features two songs that rank among my all-time Van songs. "Little Village" is the Van of Astral Weeks , where one finds ultimate peace and salvation through the power and mysticism of the natural world.

Raining in the forest
Just enough to magnetise the leaves
Raining in the forest
Just enough to magnetise the leaves
We'll go walking baby with the moonlight shining down through the trees

Little village, way up on the mountainside
Little village baby, way up on the mountainside
Way across the ocean with you by my side

There's this little part where he sings, "Baby let's get it straight from the start" and he does this weird little thing with the word "start." He just barely says it, or messes it up, or something. But it's so cool, so real, so genuine.

"Get On With The Show" is one of Van's Cranky songs. People ride him for being a grumpy sonofabitch, but as I get older, well...I'm kind of a grumpy sonofabutch, and that's why I love the guy. Lyrics like this sing to me, baby:

No one seems to understand what's up
What's up, what's up
So called friends come and go
And things just don't add up
Trying to make my way
Through all this illusion and myth
I don't even have no safety net

He's just the best. If there's a God out there, he's gonna sound like some gruff Irishman singing about champagne eyes and saint-like smiles.

Last week it was my Mom's birthday, but being the lucky woman she is, she got to spend the weekend with Step-Dave in Palm Springs.

You see, we're not really gun-toting rednecks. We're actually semi-millionaires. Everyone made a killing in the late 60s when we sold off all this really valuable farmland in Naperville, which is one of the more posh places around here, if you're familiar with it.

One day all that money will be mine, and my massive debt and inability to save more than $20 in my savings account will be a distant memory.

We are rich, right guys? Right?

(Reminder: Insert flash animation of tumbleweed blowing past banner.)

Yeah, so we celebrated Mom's birthday tonight in the rockin' hometown of Sandwich. Ate dinner, ran into Uncle and Aunt, grabbed a beer at The Old Tyme Inn, formerly Corrie's, formerly Don's. It'll always be Don's to me.

Basic townie bar. Spent many years there drinking Bud Light with a few guys, playing lots of pool and Golden Tee. I can still remember the Jukebox code for Van Morrison's "Sweet Thing." #66, Track 6.

Tonight it was Karaoke night in a deserted bar. The highlight of the evening was Bill from the Open Door singing television theme songs.

The Open Door is an assisted living facility in Sandwich for mentally challenged folk. I've known most of them my whole life. Not really personally, but by name, and face, more or less. They buy their groceries at Art's, where I used to work, and attend church with Mom, and hang out down at Don's. You grow up with them and you stop thinking about them being so different. I mean, they are, but the novelty wore off a long time ago.

It's a glorious fucked up thing to see Bill singing TV theme songs. He can get up there and make a fool out of himself just like anyone else. There isn't anything different about him singing the theme to "WKRP in Cincinnati" and an overweight hausfrau belting out "You Light Up My Life." Both are equally bad, and it has nothing to do with Bill being retarded.

At one point, Bill and Scott and the Debs would have been hidden away somewhere, never interacting with other "normal" people. That's why the Open Door is cool.

And there's a good reason why America is cool.

****

So Happy Birthday, Mom. You're the coolest.



It was also Pharmacist Phil's birthday today, so I spent my Sunday evening eating mussels and drinking wine and watched Desperate Housewives for the first time. The whole Nevills clan is hooked on the show. Lots of hot women. Lots of frustration and tension. Lots of reasons why I don't ever want to get married.



Tomorrow: Why The Incredibles is the Fucking Coolest Damn Movie of the Year.

Careful readers of this blog will have noticed a rather spirited debate going on between some members of my family, with some regular commenters along for the ride.

I've been spending a lot of time lately discussing presidential politics and the state of our country, as most blogs have been doing. And most of that discussion has been centered around my disapproval with President Bush and the way he has handled our country.

Some of the more recent comments have had the tone of shock, shock! that I dare to express these opinions. Or, that my (and many other commenters on this blog) opinion is incorrect. Or that because the election is over, I should now put my opinions in my dresser drawer for the next four years, because it's for the good of the country to all unite together as Americans.

It clearly makes some of you uncomfortable to read my opinions. Others seem to agree with them, but there are a few readers that have gotten quite upset over the past few days.

I guess I have to ask this one question:

Why are you so upset by what I have to say?

Are you upset that I am actually voicing dissent about our current political situation?

Because if that's true, I'm worried. Last time I checked, speaking one's opinion, even if it's not the will of the people (or at least 51% of them), is part of my wonderful American rights.

Plus it's my blog, so I think I can say whatever I want. And I always try to do so with clear, well-written statements. (Unless I'm really pissed off.)

Or, are you upset because you read this blog and feel my opinions are so manic, so far from what is considered normal, that I need "help" seeing the way? Is this an online intervention to save my misguided soul from the evil, corrupting influence of the left wing?

Some of my regular (also sane) readers seemed pretty happy with what I had to say:

Bicyclemark: "Good speech B.... you're a better man than I."

My dear Uncle: "Brian, I couldn't have said it better myself."

"I am so proud Brian, to call you my son. Your comments are intelligent, forthright, and true. You are not bashing Bush for the sake of bashing him and the Republicans, you are just stating the truth."

That last one is from my Mom. Mom is certainly not some far-out crazy liberal who's ready to destroy the country. She's no UnaMommer.

I only throw those quotes out there to remind myself, and others, that what I'm saying isn't something that only a few odd people believe. Read some of the other blogs out there, or look beyond the outskirts of our conservative community. There are millions of people out there that believe the same things I do.

And coming on here to put pressure on me to stop "bashing the President", for either the good of the country, or the good of family get-togethers, is a disturbing event to me.

Perhaps my Red Sox/Yankees analogy wasn't perfect, but the point was this: just because the "other team" wins, or that the election reveals new (disturbing, in my opinion) trends about the "will of the people" doesn't mean you stop believing what you believe.

And it's my perfect right to go right on believing that and discussing that.

Because good debate and discussion is healthy and necessary for our democracy to keep on working. And the rise of blogging has only helped to make the country more democratic and free. We can now read what millions of ordinary Americans think about our country and our leaders, instead of filtering it through opinion polls and that darned media.

So I ask you this: read my blog, and make your comments, regardless of your beliefs or opinions. I welcome them and enjoy them all. But don't suggest that I curtail my opinions to make you more comfortable and happy. And don't tell me I'm lecturing when I should be educating. This is not my classroom. Any former student of mine can tell you I keep politics out of there.

In the end, I ask again: what makes you so upset that I am voicing a simple opinion, especially in a forum specifically created for that purpose? Do my thoughts really threaten the country or the community or family stability?

Or do they threaten you, because it's disturbing to know that I could be right?

I find it very un-American to ask someone to stop voicing their (minority) opinion in a free setting in order to promote American stability.

I'm not trying to bring down the country. I'm just exercising one of its rights.

And if you don't like what I have to say, there's a simple solution to all of this:

Just don't read it.

Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November...




Anyone know that reference?

My least favorite part of the post-election hangover:

"Let's all put this behind us and unite behind our President."

Or, another way of saying it could be:

Suck it up, loser. Get in the back of the line.

Bend over, Bitch.

If you're a Yankee fan, do you decide to root for the Red Sox and yell and scream for them in the victory parade because they won and your Yankees lost?

Hell no. You say the Red Sox suck and you wait until next year.

I just can't do it. I'm not going to lay up on him and I'm not going to stop talking about how America could be a lot better off if George and his Gang were out of the White House.

I won't drink the Kool-aid.

And now for something completely different:

Did you know that Zack Braff has a blog about Garden State (one of the best, if not the best film of 2004)? Click the picture below to go to it.



I'll be writing more about God 'n stuff later.

I woke up in a very different America this morning.

I had been seeing signs for a while. Signs of the change coming. But today confirms it.

This isn't an America I know. I think that America is gone.

When I think of America and its great historical figures I think of Jack and Bobby Kennedy and the promises they held and the change they enacted. I think back to Ben Franklin, or Sam Adams and his firebrand ways of revolution. Susan B. Anthony fighting for women's suffrage in New York.

I especially think of Franklin Roosevelt, the four-term steward of our Nation during its darkest hours. Good Northeast men and women.

I know all of America isn't the Northeast, but that's the America I love, aside from my Midwest. The truest sense of America's history can be found walking its streets. Boston and the monument to the 54th Massachusetts regiment. The Liberty Bell in Philadelphia. The power and grandeur of New York City.

Great men and women came from there. And I hoped that John F. Kerry would bring back the glory days of those men from the Northeast.

Well, aside from the Northeast, and the Pacific West, and my dear Illinois, that's just not what the rest of America wanted. And there were more of them in the end.

And that's how these things work, which is why John Kerry and John Edwards didn't yell and scream and curse Ohio's name over and over again at Faneuil Hall today. They conceded graciously, and spoke, as the winners and losers do after every election, about putting aside partisanship and crossing political lines and uniting our poor, fractured country.

So what did it for Bush, in the end? Kerry did everything he could to win the same basic set of states and Electoral votes as Gore did in 2000. Bush just had more people go out and vote for him.

"Moral values." That's what people admired most in Bush. That was more important than Iraq, the economy, or terrorism in general. Moral values.

So what does that mean? And what does that say about what America has become?








Have you heard the Good News?

Letter to the President

Dear Mr. President:

You have never met me, so let me start out by introducing myself. My name is Brian. I live in northern Illinois, where I have lived for most of my life. I currently teach gifted and talented elementary school children, and also run a theatre company for children and adults I started about five years ago. I am proud to call myself a small town Midwesterner.

Some additional things you might want to know about me:

I am a great lover of American history. I studied history in college, focusing on American military and political history of the 19th and 20th century. During one Spring Break in college, instead of heading to Daytona Beach with the rest of the frat boys, I spent a week with my uncles and grandpa visiting Civil War battlefields.

I also like to travel. This summer I visited the new WW2 memorial in Washington D.C. and spent a few days in Boston, walking the Freedom Trail and revisiting where it all began for our country.

I also enjoy traveling overseas, hiking the moors of northern England, drinking Guinness in Ireland or strolling the streets of Paris.

I tell you this, Mr. President, to paint a basic picture of myself. I am an American. I love my country, and I feel I have done a decent job educating myself about it's successes (and failures), and I now pass on that knowledge to my students.

I did not vote for you this morning, Mr. President. I voted for a senator from Massachusetts, a man whom I believe will do a better job running the country than you have.

What have you done wrong, you ask? Let me explain.

Four years ago, thanks to a variety of reasons, you were elected president, even though more Americans voted for Vice President Gore. You were not elected by the "will of the people."

You campaigned on a philosophy of "compassionate conservatism," but your administration has been nothing but a vicious, mean-spirited attack on everyone but those in the Far Right.

You pulled us out of the Kyoto Global Warming Treaty, saying you were "protecting" American jobs while giving the finger to the environment.

Your big tax breaks just made the rich richer in this country. The rest of us still suffer.

As an educator, I can safely say that No Child Left Behind is a complicated pain in the ass that has no realistic chance of working.

You replaced reason and logic with evangelical faith.

After September 11th you had a chance. The country was united, the world was on our side, and we could have launched a War on Terror that would have rivaled the determination and efforts of the American people during the Second World War. Instead, you and your neo-con buddies like Cheney and Rummy used September 11th to turn America into an International Joke.

You lied and deceived the American people about WMDs and connections with Iraq and al-Qaida. You convinced us that the war in Iraq was absolutely necessary, a central part of the global War on Terror. There were no WMDs, no connections with al-Qaida. Was it the CIA's fault? I don't believe that for a minute. Now Iraq is in chaos, in worse shape than before, over a thousand American soldiers are dead (and tens of thousands of Iraqis are dead), and yet you tell us that things are going well.

And Osama bin Laden is still out there.


You have destroyed the reputation of America and Americans throughout the world. We were once the envy of the world, and now we are the world's Drunken Frat Boy, pissing on anything in our way. And if anyone disagrees with us, we scoff and tell them to fuck off.

You made Hating Europe trendy. I happen to like Europe.

You have created two Americas, of Red States and Blue States. A country divided and angry at itself.

You prey on our fears while you pray for God's allegiance in your Crusades against Evil.

And you have done the worst thing of all, Mr. President. You have made me doubt this country, and to doubt its leaders. You are the captain of this ship, and I do not like our destination.

And so I felt absolutely fantastic when I looked at my ballot, saw your name there, and voted for someone else. Maybe our system is a joke, but what I did this morning felt good. As if, for once, I had a little power to affect the fate of this country.

Ok, here's a good story to balance out my whiny post from earlier...



My neice Cameron, who's 4 (pictured, center, as Tinkerbell) has a friend named Cameron (not pictured), who is also 4. Cameron and Cameron were talking about The Polar Express. My sister asks Boy Cameron if he's looking forward to the movie.

Boy Cameron replies: "The train doesn't make it. It explodes before it gets to the North Pole."

Neice Cameron shouts back: "No it doesn't! Stop saying that!"

Boy Cameron: "Yes, it does. I heard it from my brother. It explodes."

Later when she sees a commercial for the movie, Cameron says, "See Mommy! See! See! The train doesn't explode!"

I don't know where kids come up with that shit sometimes...


While I thought my family's gun-crazed weekend was just a fluke, new evidence has come to light. This may be my sister and brother-in-law in Halloween outfits, or they may have spent too much time living in the South.

You be the judge.


(This is revenge for not reading my blog enough, sis!)

Well good news on the apartment life. Remember my loud neighbors that I'm always bitching about? And my leaky ceiling? Well, I wrote this long letter detailing my concerns and sat down with management this afternoon. Apparently my neighbors will be gone in a day or so, but not by my hands. They were getting kicked out anyway.

So that should mean some quieter nights for me.

The bad news is that they don't seem very willing to let me break my lease early without paying a "buyout" fee. My point is this: you guys suck at providing a decent place to live, I've been a great tenant for a year and a half, so I think I'm justified in wanting to break it early.

And then I walk back to my apartment to find a flyer taped to my door:

"Great news! We're going to redo the stairs in your building. Could you please get rid of everything sitting on the stairs, including satellite dishes, by Wednesday, November 3rd?"

Ummm, sure. I'm gonna dismantle my dish on Election Night. It's not like I was going to invite people over to watch the election returns or anything, or that it's like one of the most important nights in my lifetime. Sure, I'd be happy to rip that thing down Tuesday night. Thanks for the extremely short notice, too, you incompetent fuck-heads.

Who wants to help me secretly move out this weekend? Oh, and who wants to let me live with them until I buy a house?

This is the best drunk email I have ever received, from a friend who is currently studying in Asia:

HI!!!!
i love you alll
i am in a bar iunnwuhan and i am drunj
staffor is coverig up the bckspace ar so i cannot try to bakspace
i am drunk bu ti am 21 so it is okay
because we are in asia!!!!!!!!!!
i am at a bar calkled sky blue
everyoihe is buying me drinks
YAY!!!!!!
I love you and i will be home in a few weeks
\drink time!@!!!!!
yay tequilla sunrise from BEN KIFER!!!

jessi, dont trellk mom
i wil call home whne i get to the hoyte
mom told me to drunk dial
iu willl
rell kye hi
break a leg evcen though you are dohne
i love you
i AM not an alcoholoic
i promise
it isa my biorthday
HUTTAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i love y9o7u all
i am home sopon
alli j: i talked to you this morning
]please make funnof me fpor this later
because i will not remember it tomorropw
h haaa toorrow like in annie
when i was lily
he]
]hHHHAHHHAAAA
i need to stop
buh bye
i am in a bar
i love you
seee you soonh
JMWAH!!!!!!!!


I'm sure she would kill me if she knew I posted this, but she's in Asia, so what does she know?!

In other news, I was officially the Oldest Man at the Ben Kweller show last night. Went with Frumpy's cousins Eric and Jessica and her friend Andrea. Kweller sure is young, but that kid knows how to write a good song.

Tonight it's The Best Band in the Universe, Wilco, at the Auditorium Theatre with Frumpy herself. This is her 18th Birthday gift from me. In fact, it's probably Wilco that caused her family and I to become such good friends. Almost five years ago I had this Wilco concert tee that I would wear to the first rehearsals of this theatre group I was putting together, and a lil youngster named Di thought that was pretty cool. A year or so later, an invite to dinner was given out, and Big Phil and I spent all evening talking music and books and good films whilst drinking quality beer. And a friendship with an entire family was born. All thanks to this here shirt:



It's retired now, thanks to my decision to foolishly wear it while painting sets. But it still remains, sleeping alongside other shirts from concerts' past: the Jesus and Mary Chain show I saw in '90, U2 at the Horizon in '92, Radiohead in Grant Park in 2001 (a shirt I no longer wear thanks to an annoying style of collar that was popular that summer that makes the shirt look too much like a girl's shirt.)

Thus concludes my mangling of the English language for the day.

It's all Secrets and Lies, America. Secrets and Lies...

Oh, one more thing: I'm thinking of inviting anyone interested over to my place Tuesday evening for ElectionBash 2004: An excuse to eat and drink heavily during the middle of the week. It'll either be a victory party or a funeral for the America I love, so either way it'll be interesting.

If you're up for it, let me know thru the comments or other means of communication. Prince Fan, you definitely have to be here.

I hope everyone realized that the post I wrote about my gun-toting family was done with tongue fixed firmly in cheek...

Why's everyone hatin' on the BoSox?

"They just spent a lot of money on players and bought their World Series."

"The Red Sox didn't win...the Cardinals and the Yankees lost those series."

Come on, people. Save the cynicism for our upcoming election debacle. (More on that later.) The Red Sox have a large payroll, but guess what? So do the Yankees and my dear Cubbies. And they both gave new definitions to the words "choke" and "disaster." And plenty of teams with lower payrolls have won the World Series in recent years (see, Angels, Anaheim.)

The Red Sox, after being down 3-0 against the storied New York Yankees, went out and won the World Series by winning the next EIGHT games in a row. Yeah. After that 3-0 rout, they decided to just not lose anymore.

And to do it against the Yankees? That rewrites everything, folks. Deservedly, the Yankees are huge. Immense. How many World Series have they won? How many times have they been in the playoffs in the last 10 years? (I'm not sure, but I know it's a lot.)

And when the Yankees come to town, they bring their fans with. I've seen them pack a sell-out Camden Yards in Baltimore, taunting the Oriole fans, and I've seen them swarm the streets of Chicago when the Yanks came to town a couple of years ago. When they come to play, they come with everything. Just like Christopher Walken says in Catch Me If You Can: "Why do the Yankees always win? Because the other team can't stop looking at the pinstripes!"

(Which has to be on some top 5 list of Brian Brems', somewhere.)

The Red Sox then went out and didn't let the St. Louis Cardinals win a single game in the Series. The Cardinals that had the best record in both the National and American League this year. They weren't slouches, and the Red Sox finished them off efficiently and quick-like. They were a snap compared to the Yankees.

No, the Yankees didn't lose the ALCS. The Red Sox won it. The St. Louis Cardinals didn't lose the World Series. The Red Sox won it.

And they didn't buy the Series, either.

They earned it.

Right now Scott Stapp is singing "God Bless America" during the seventh-inning stretch.

"God Blessssss Amurrrrrrrrricuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......"

And you thought Ozzy was bad...

Do you think the Cardinal fans will sue for their money back?

My life seems to be moving in a rather strange direction right now. I'm currently pursuing two completely opposite possibilities for my future.

One involves actually buying a house and declaring my current form of existence "permanent." Plus it would mean I would start understanding what the word "commitment" means.

The other involves packing everything up, saying my goodbyes, and heading off into the great unknown. Mostly Ireland or some other cool European country, and live a life like Bicyclemark. He's an American from New Jersey who lives in Amsterdam. Very cool guy. Read his blog.



Who wouldn't want to be able to live a life of riding your bike everywhere, spending Euros, and enjoying fabulous European culture? (And fabulous European women as well.)

But that's easier said than done. I'd be curious to hear from those that have done the Big Move and made it in Europe.

If you read this and think one decision is "safe" and the other is "daring" you'd be wrong. Both are safe and daring in their own ways.

I suppose I'll see what the election brings next week before I really think about this any more. Another four years of a Bush America is not something I can stomach very easily. Not to mention the long-term consequences for America.

But I do have Outstanding Credit, and I hate living in this apartment right now, so we'll see what life brings me. It's a tough decision to make...

Talked to Step-Dave tonight and he mentioned how he and Mom couldn't figure out how to get to My Buzznet pictures.

For the hyperlink-challenged, if you see a word or phrase that is shaded a bit lighter, that's a hyperlink, which if you click it, it'll take you to whatever site I'm mentioning.

Not to sound condescending, but I just want people to get how this site works.

I should probably just change the link color to something that stands out more.

And I like comments on my pictures.

Happiness is a Warm Gun in the Hand of your Mother

This weekend was the big yearly get-together we have down at my uncle's farm in central Illinois. Nothing but cornfields surround a beautiful little farmette (that means he doesn't actually farm it) where around 20 of my immediate family gathered to eat lots of food, drink plenty of liquor, and of course, shoot off as many firearms as possible.

My family? Closeted gun freaks? Apparently it's true. There were more weapons available this weekend than at a Charlton Heston garage sale.

If only I had left home earlier, I could have made it down there to shoot off some myself. But being the pussy liberal that I am, I shot the pictures instead.

Apparently the real reason the guns were so prevalent is so Step-Dave could take some humorous pictures for his yearly calendar project (Midwestern MILFs with Semi-Automatics!), but I think I know the real reason.

I believe my rather conservative family is preparing for a potential Kerry presidential election victory and has decided to start their own militia. Come November 3rd, I know I'm going to receive a simple message from Jim and Bob:



"You're either with us, or against us."





Figuring that the only other Democrat in the family has already been "taken care of," I imagine I'll have to choose either Family or Freedom under a Blue Moon.

While I'm sure my life holed up as a member of the McLean Militia will be full of homemade french fries, discussion of celebrity nudity, and the occasional standoff with the FBI, I don't know if I'm cut out for such a life. The bands I like don't play Bloomington all that much. And even though there are now about 27 bedrooms in Jim's compound, I can't seem to fall asleep very well while I'm there.

So instead I will be sundered from my relatives, and my only contact with them will be the occasional note from my mother, smuggled north in a shipment of homemade Chicken and Noodles:

"All is well here, but the Feds recently cut off our satellite dish connection. Grandma and I are ready to revolt soon as we have been unable to watch "All My Children" for the past three weeks. If you're VCR works, I beg of you: tape 'AMC' for us!"

More pictures at My Buzznet site.

Big update on the weekend coming soon. Too tired and it's too late to post tonight. So for those that are waiting with baited breath, just come back in 24 hours.

But I'll at least give you a preview title:

FraleyFest 2004: Or; How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Firearms.

Things sure are looking up in Iraq.


Democracy is on the march.

Freedom is what they want, Freedom is what they're gonna get.

Because that's why we went in there all along, right? To rid the world of an evil menace and bring liberty and freedom to the Iraqi people, who showered us with love and gratitude as our tanks rolled towards Baghdad.

It was just like the liberation of France, wasn't it?

Hussein? Just like Hitler. And Bush and Blair are just like Roosevelt and Churchill.

Weapons of Mass Destruction not there? No proven link between Saddam and al-Qaida? Not important.

Freedom is on its way.

And only President Bush and his Masters of War could bring us an Iraq where this is now happening, and no one will probably do a goddamn thing about it.



Day after day after day more people die, and day after day after day it is thought about less and less over here. Margaret Hassan will just become another one of "those people who get beheaded" in Iraq.

Remember why all of you poured into the streets to protest the war? This is why you did it. To stop things like this from happening. And all those that supported the war, and still do? Is this what you thought it would be? A terrified woman begging for her life? Someone who spent her entire life bringing help and aid to the Iraqi people?

Oh, but wait. That's what our dear President is doing. He's bringing help and aid to the Iraqi people. So they can be free. So we can sell them McDonalds and they can watch "Desperate Housewives" and we can park all our jets and bombs and soldiers anywhere we want in Iraq, so we can do this over and over and over again all across the Mid-East and win that pesky War on Terror.

Go to Robodopeness's site right now and check out his drawerings. They are fucking hilarious.

Yikes! Pirates! And Robots!

So it's Cardinals-Red Sox. This should be a World Series to remember. I can think of one person who has to just be loving this right now. Too bad I won't get a chance to watch any games with him.


The Office Special was on tonight. Three years after David Brent was made redundant. This ties everything up pretty well, almost too well. I couldn't decide how I wanted Tim and Dawn's story to end. Like Tim said, there aren't "happy endings," only moments. Tim and Dawn had lots of wonderful, heartful moments. Do they deserve a happy ending? Do any of us? Does David Brent?

Cops and more cops in my life today. Started the day with a speeding ticket and ended it with three guys getting arrested on the street in front of my apartment. And of course my bangin' neighbors and about 10 of his friends were standing around watching it.

I'm this close to packing up this apartment and just disappearing.

Sometimes the Big Dog bites hard, and sometimes the Little Dog bites where it counts.

So long, New York. No more baseball for you this year.

A bunch of scruffy guys from the greatest town in America (excluding Chicago, of course) just showed me what faith is all about.

No, not faith in God. No matter what any of the players say in interviews after the game, faith in God didn't produce four wins in a row against the Yankees. I don't really believe that God cares about such things.

Faith in each other won those games. Faith and the belief that these guys could pull out win after win when it seemed that all hope was lost, that they would lose yet again.

Sure, it isn't as sweet as if the Cubs were doing all of this, but that is a dream deferred for another day.

Until then, Go Red Sox. I believe in you guys.

Sorry Brems...

Yes I'm a die-hard Cub fan and no I haven't jumped on a bandwagon. But when you're a Cub fan, it's always a good idea to have a back-up.

For a while it was the Orioles, but once they got Pedro, I became a Red Sox fan. Because really, it's not that different than being a Cub fan. Futility mixed with a great park.

What a game! What a week! No team has ever come back from 3-0 to force a game 7. Yeah, you smug Yankee fans, you'll sit and say "Oh, we'll just take care of them tomorrow" and you probably will, because you're the fucking Yankees and you always fucking win.

Or do you? Maybe it's time. Maybe it's Boston's time. It sure wasn't Chicago's time, as they so memorably proved in that final week.

I hate to say it, but Chicago can't touch the East Coast when it comes to baseball rivalry. Cubs/Cards? We say we hate each other, but we're too Midwestern to do anything about it. Yankees/Red Sox? This rivalry goes so deep, is so hate-filled, they had police in riot gear lining the first and third base sides.

If nothing else, the Boston Red Sox showed that you can be down for the count, but not out. The Big Bastards can try and squash you like a bug, but you can keep getting up and fight back, just like Schilling did tonight. What a stud.

God I love baseball...

If you've been trying to get on this blog for the past 24 hours or so, sorry about that. I was making some modifications to my template and accidentally erased something I shouldn't have. But all is well now.

The cold is over with, and I'm feeling so much better. Too bad the weather around here is dismal. I could use a sunny, warm day to bike in. I haven't been on my bike in ages.

A big thanks to Frumpy's family for a wonderful dinner last night. I could feel all the stress and worries in my life just melt away as I hung out with you guys. People may wonder why I hang out with 'em so much, but there's no point in explaining. It's just great to be around people who enjoy good conversation, good food, and good tunes.

I've also lost five pounds in the past week or so, which makes me a little happier. I need to get back down to my fighting weight, so the diet shall continue.

I spent all day yesterday thinking about Ireland again...

Hi there. Remember me? Tall guy, talks about Tolkien a lot.

No too exciting of a week to report. My major accomplishment was watching the entire second season Alias in four days. Sometimes a cold can be a good thing, I guess. Now I suppose I'll have to squeeze in Season 3 before the next one starts up.

Midwest Yankee and Griffin came over last night to watch the Yankees put the hurt (once again) on the Red Sox, discuss college and decisions, and to discuss next summer's adaptation of Romeo and Juliet for http://www.teknistr.com/limelight/. Came up with a lot of good ideas.

The Duder invited me over to watch some football, but today is going to be devoted to all things Laundry.

Neil Gaiman's coming to Chicago for the Humanities Festival. Anyone interested?

Damn, I need to order those Ben Kweller tickets.

Coffee and Cigarrettes sucked in a pointless, why-does-any-of-this-matter way. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was magnificent in an even-the-shittiest-part-of-a-relationship matters.

There was a demon that lived in the air. They said whoever challenged him would die. Their controls would freeze up, their planes would buffet wildly, and they would disintegrate. The demon lived at Mach 1 on the meter, seven hundred and fifty miles an hour, where the air could no longer move out of the way. He lived behind a barrier through which they said no man could ever pass. They called it the sound barrier.

On this day in history, October 14th, 1947, good old Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier for the first time, ushering in the space age and America's second greatest achievement of the 20th Century (the first being the successful invasion of Europe in June of 1944, which led to the fall of the Nazi Empire.)

It also gave us The Right Stuff, a great book and even better movie. Hey Doug, Jim, Bob--you got any Beemans?


Chuck Yeager : Hey, Ridley, make another note here, would ya? Must be something wrong with this ol' Mach meter. Jumped plumb off the scale. Gone kinda screwy on me.

Jack Ridley : You go ahead and bust it, we'll fix it. Personally, I think you're seein' things.

Chuck Yeager : Yeah, could be. But I'm still goin' upstairs like a bat outta hell.

One more thing: Lost is the best goddamn hour of TV you can watch right now. Tonight's episode was just too good. I never, ever would have guessed Locke's origin was like that!

And a TPS joke to boot!

I'm not going to go into a long, drawn-out analysis of tonight's debate between Bush and Kerry. Plenty of bloggers out there will take care of that.

But is anyone else picking up on this little battle going on between Bob Schieffer and President Bush? Bush totally slammed CBS during the debate when he made a comment about trusting network news' facts.

I'm thinking it was in retaliation for Schieffer cutting Bush off from a potential 30-second respsonse. Did anyone catch that face of Bush's: "I want to say someth--ohhhhhrrrrrrr maybe not...."

Ugh. I'm getting a cold. Don't look for much updating from me until I feel better. All I feel like doing is sitting on the couch watching Alias DVDs.

So long Superman...

Last night I had a dream where I was holed up in this old house with a pair of bank robbers. I think they were married, but they might have just been boyfriend and girlfriend. They were young, at any rate.

We couldn't go near the doors or windows because if we did we'd get shot to death by the police that had surrounded the house.

So I went and washed my hands in the bathroom, and then walked back out into the hallway/living room area where we were crouched down, trying to figure out our next move.

Then Lovie Smith walked in with a gun in his hand, and I stood up and surrendered.

Anyone want to figure out what the fuck that meant?

What was happening a year ago?



The Cubs were in the playoffs, and people were debating back and forth about the Iraq war. I was teaching fifth grade at East View, and directing a junior high production of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow."

And I started this blog on 8 October, 2003.

I can't remember the first blog I read. It was either Tony Pierce, who then directed me to Raymi, or maybe it was Raymi's. Probably Raymi's. She does, after all, take her shirt off sometimes, and I'm a sucker for that. (No jokes, kids.)

For the first few months the blog looked pretty basic. Pretty much what Holywriter's site looks like (Sorry Steven--I needed an example.) Then I got to know Bunny McIntosh a bit, and she helped me out with changing the template, using HaloScan comments, things like that. So I owe her a big thanks for the help she gave me a while back, when I was a newbie at this thing. Thanks, Allison. Your blog is still my favorite.

Tony also gave me some good tips regarding the ethics of borrowing pictures. I'm a horrible picture thief, but if I didn't, my blog would be nothing but these scary bad pictures of me you see here.

Slowly but surely I figured things out, and even started a second blog to record my travels abroad. One of these days I'll go back and insert pictures and tidy things up so that it tells a good story.

Because that's what a blog should be, right? Something that tells a good story. The story about you. I think too many people try and have their blogs be about something else. Some people want to have political blogs (too many, actually.) Some people talk sports, some people write about movies and music.

I write about all those things, but I don't try and overdo it. When I want to talk politics, I write about that. If I saw a good movie, I write about it. I like talking about the music I'm into, or the interesting things I did or saw. I have no need to tell you about how my day was, or overload you with information about elementary schools or community theatre. If I opened the floodgates on my horribly uninteresting and mundane life I would lose the few loyal readers I have.

Instead, you pick the best parts, add a few pictures, and hopefully a story emerges. Read Bunny or Bicyclemark (thanks for the RSS help) or Too Frumpy and after a while you know their story, you know who they are, even if you've never met them.

Write about one thing for too long and the blog becomes something it shouldn't. If I talk about Rilo Kiley, it's because that's who I'm listening to right now and I want to share that. If I'm pissed off at Bush or I watched the debates, I'll write about it, but I don't feel the need to go overboard on why I think he's a bad president. You get the point after a few rants.

Your blog should always be about you, but not always about you. Does that make sense?

Don't tell me if each and every day was a good or a bad day. Don't make it into a laundry list of guys you get drunk and obsess about.

What are you thinking about right now? What's the most interesting thing you heard someone say today?

Steal a camera and try and take a picture of something no one's seen a thousand times already.

(Before you say it, I'm sure Tony or someone else has written a list like this, but I'm on a roll.)

Tell us your story. Not your opinions.

Leave comments. But don't be the first to comment every single time. That's weird.

Get angry, get crazy, get silly, get sad. But don't get mean. Don't use your blog to vent or to be spiteful.

Write when you're sober, write when you're drunk. Can't sleep at night? Start blogging and get all that's weighing you down out of your head and into the blogosphere.

Because you're not alone, even if you think you are.

A sure sign that the world is Waking Up to the way The Man is trying to make the world a scarier, darker, more Appropriate place to live:

Howard Stern is headed to satellite radio. He wasn't full of shit. He's doing it, which is a great victory for those of us who are into free speech and such things. Of course, many would consider me automatically for immature fixations on trashy women, but that would be false. I don't even listen to Howard that much. I'm a Steve Dahl man, who gave up on the dirty talk a while back.

In other news, I saw Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence tonight with Apostle E and Super Band Fan. Good movie, but very....um....philosophical. Which is alright sometimes, but right now I like my anime a bit more Bebop-ish.

And did anyone catch and/or tape Lost tonight? I thought I taped it but forgot to leave on the satellite receiver. 1 hour of static was all I had waiting for me. Don't leave me hanging, America...

And finally: is anyone having trouble reading this? Every time I click on it I get everything but the pictures. Which is a nice change from getting everything but the pictures.

It's kind of a blog cliche to put up a picture of a newly deceased celebrity and talk about how cool they were, but I can't resist this one:



Rodney, you were great, but Caddyshack was your Citizen Kane. And so, as your final tribute, a few quotes from the greatest movie to quote ever.

"So let's dance!"

"Oh, it looks good on you though."

"Your a lot of woman, you know that? Yeah, wanna make 14 dollars the hard way?"

"I hear this place is restricted, Wang, so don't tell 'em you're Jewish, okay?"

"Hey everybody, we're all gonna get laid!"

Aged frat boys and film nuts around the world are weeping tonight.

Part of my conversation with Amsterdam's own Bicyclemark, where we discussed Mystery Science Theatre, RSS usage, and this in-depth discussion on super-heroes:

Bicyclemarko: Im gonna make a run for the PHD
Bicyclemarko: online publishing
Bfauth30: ha!
Bicyclemarko: alt media
Bicyclemarko: journalism
Bfauth30: I think I'm starting a doctoral program next year
Bfauth30: maybe
Bicyclemarko: lets all study blogs and make this justice league of blog academics.
Bfauth30: agreed
Bicyclemarko: and no useless heros like aquaman
Bfauth30: what about Apache Chief?
Bicyclemarko: hahaha
Bicyclemarko: what was his talent
Bicyclemarko: he was wise
Bfauth30: he could grow really big
Bicyclemarko: useful.. yes.
Bicyclemarko: werent there some twins?
Bfauth30: he wasn't wise enough to use his powers to take back his people's land, though!
Bfauth30: The Wonder Twins
Bicyclemarko: oh yeah.. power.. activate
Bfauth30: form of...purple ice!
Bicyclemarko: ughh lame.
Bfauth30: not the best day for super-heroes
Bicyclemarko: every other mutant club could kick their asses
Bfauth30: go X-Men
Bicyclemarko: Hey.. best new name I heard for the new team in DC.. the DC Comics
Bicyclemarko: HA
Bfauth30: that's great!
Bicyclemarko: im sayin.. loads of cross promotion
Bicyclemarko: and it has a great ring
Bfauth30: Wonder Woman could be the bat girl
Bfauth30: no wait!
Bfauth30: Bat Girl is the bat girl!
Bicyclemarko: BAT

That's it. No more baseball. Twas never more apparent as when I was driving home from work and thought to myself, "Hmm, is there a Cubs game on tonight?"

Nope.

We all know what happened. They fell apart, lost lots of games. Tried to blame it on Steve Stone and ended up losing Chip Carey instead.

Sammy skipped the last game, pissed off and/or apparently "hurt."

Fuck 'em. They didn't deserve it. They spent too much time blaming everything but their poor attitudes, and it slipped away from them.

Hendry, get rid of Sosa and Alou, and keep Clement and Nomar.

And get a goddamn closer.

Go Red Sox.

Octoberfest 2004
Or: The Duder Abides

Saturday night was spent at the home of the Duders, where we ate brats, sat by a roaring outdoor fire, and drank Goose Island Octoberfest right out of our very own glass mugs, our names emblazoned on them for eternity (or at least until they get put into the dishwasher on accident.)

Joe cooked the brats, Megan tended the fire, Alex somehow delivered two or three wheelbarrows full of firewood, and everyone told stories about feces.



I left around 10:30. I was having a good time, but there was a point where I was feeling like, "Hmm. Well, I guess I'll just go home." It was a strange, indifferent decision, but I felt I had "done" the party, and I just wanted to sit and listen to some music for a while. (No, I didn't leave because of the Ashlee Simpson, but seriously, who brought that?)



Thanks for a good time E and E.

Rilo Kiley
@ The Abbey Pub
Chicago, Sept. 30th

The horns from "Plane Crash in C" introduce the band and the guitar strum from "It's a Hit" leads us into the show. A small stage in a big city and a new band (for me at least.)

It was a little after 11:00 on a school night, where most of my friends and colleagues were probably in bed, but here I was, by myself, at the Abbey watching Rilo Kiley. I could be looking for sympathy on that last statement, but I'm not. I just like to do these things, and there really isn't anyone else I know that would have wanted to spend their Thursday evening watching some band they never heard of. And I'm not going to sit back and let these times pass me by, either.

(I did see someone there I know. Superclumsystar was there with some of her collegiate friends, but I just said a quick hello as we walked past the soundboard.)

The concert was one of those moments that makes a good band into a great band. The pair of albums I own by them were opened up to me a bit more, their individual songs allowed to stand out and be noticed. The horns on "Plane Crash in C", the harmonica on "More Adventurous."

And Jenny Lewis kicks serious ass on stage. Not only is she covering most of the lead vocals, she's playing guitar, bass, keyboards, and the aforementioned harmonica. At times she approached a Neko Case-like intensity with her singing on "I Never."

For the encore Blake Sennett (guitars and vocals) came out and started strumming "Such Great Heights" by the Postal Service (Jenny sang harmony on the recent album) and I swear to God, everyone in the audience starting singing along. They seemed to know the words better than Sennett did, who quit after a few tries and after Lewis couldn't remember anything but the harmonies!

But in that moment where everyone was singing along, I found myself in a room full of people just like me, who decided to stay up late on a Thursday and see a really cool band and who could all sing along to the same songs. A great night.