Well I had a great time with CK and L while they were in town, and the visit with my parents was the best ever (with caveat, of course . . . ). And today I go to Boston to see the Chiseler.

A shout-out to Bobby: Good luck with weekend kicking some serious triathlon booty in Catalina this weekend (and hopefully not your own)!

Until next time, some CAPGAS poetry

Buster nee Bev be the boyo who'be Kev.

Poker's down at eminem's with smokin on the deck,
I bring a bit of thistle weed to unstress my poor neck.
Emily will bob and smile, charmed housewife and our friend.
Sad will be the damned late hour when poker starts to end.

One more hand or maybe once around,
each of us to deal.
Christmas time is truly is
your hand you slowly peel.

Jack is done and Jack is out,
he's got some work to do.
Tonight's the time you'll hear his voice
as he takes cash from you.
-- PDM

...so on this eve of samhain, debutantes and gentlemen
shall gather for debauchery and devilish laughter,
accompanied by liquor, sultry women, impish men and
cards, and perhaps some good ole toilet papering the
neighborhood. the question remains, shall this
mischievous behavior reside in 'la casa de la reina y
el reino' or at rickelus dickelus docks?
-- klm

New evidence that Laika the Space Dog suffered an immediate and painful death in space, contrary to the long-held belief that she died painlessly about a week or so into the mission.

“Laika's "coffin" circled the Earth 2,570 times and burned up in the Earth's atmosphere on 4 April 1958.”

So was Paul Wellstone murdered? Here's some conspiracy-fodder.

Independent Media Center

Michael Nimen, AlterNet

In a dream last night I was dying. And not in that you’re-dying-as-soon-as-you’re-born kind of way, but in an imminent way; it was to happen later that night. Everyone around me knew this, as well, and I was in the process of giving things away to people. I was giving away my prized possessions- photographs and journals, my work, records, and books (I had a bunch that I wanted to give Kerry, but was distressed to notice that someone had just dumped them all on a “giveaway” pile). But I became tired in the dream- so incredibly tired- and then it didn’t matter so much. I really didn’t feel anything, in fact, besides fatigue (I wasn’t freaked out to be dying, for example).

But when I awoke I was creeped out, to say the least. My dreams are often vivid in recollection, and so seldom am I truly bothered by them. This one, however, bothered me.

Incidentally, my parents are coming this weekend for an unprecedented visit. I seem to be on edge about the whole thing. But dying? [Ron, can you help me out with this one?]

For anyone who's asking, this is what I want in my Christmas stocking this year (see "bottomwear").

According to the Temple of Psychick Youth, Every man and woman is a 23.

Thee Sigil Ov 3 Liquids

"This ritual should be performed alone, on thee 23rd ov thee month, beginning at 2300 hours, in a place where you will have no interruptions or distractions. Within thee limits ov what is practical, you should arrange thee environment and atmosphere to be as conducive as possible to thee execution ov this Sigil for yourself.

If at all possible a candle should be thee only source ov light.
This Sigil must be performed naked.

One ov thee aims ov thee ritual is to concentrate your attention and energy on your most intense sexual fantasy. To do this you must first decide what it is and write it down on a piece ov paper. It should be what you think would generate in you thee maximum possible excitement, pleasure and fulfilment, regardless ov thee identity, sex or age ov those who take part with you, alive and guiltless. It is essential to be completely honest with yourself, and not write something because you think it might satisfy other people - remember thee purpose ov thee Sigil is to really make these things happen.

Once you have written thee fantasy on thee piece ov paper, you have to make thee paper special. To do this it must be touched by thee three liquids ov thee body. That is, spit, blood, and OV, which is thee Temple name for thee fluids obtained by masturbation - semen from thee male and lubrication from thee female.

For example, first let a few drops ov spit fall onto thee page, next a few drops ov blood. You must use some kind ov sharp and clean instrument to do this. Remember only a small quantity is required and you should use your common sense in terms ov thee method employed and ov hygiene both before and afterwards.

Lastly, and in any way that is most pleasurable to you, bring yourself to orgasm and allow thee OV to touch thee paper. While you are doing this concentrate not only on thee inscribed fantasy but also on thee idea ov thee Temple and that fact that doing this sigil is inevitably bringing you closer to what you really want. You must then attach a lock ov hair from your head and also some ov your pubic hair to thee paper. Remember these 2 hair types and 3 liquids may be incorporated on thee Sigil Paper in any manner that feels appropriate to thee thoughts thereon described. Thee basic actions outlined above should not be seen as a limitation.

Leave thee Sigil Paper overnight to dry in a safe place. On thee next day send it to Thee Station. You do not have to attach your name to thee Sigil Paper if you don't want to. All submission to thee Temple will remain at all times absolutely confidential, and will be stored in a locked vault. Sigils must be placed in a plastic baggie or wrapper before mailing. Completion ov 23 such monthly rituals qualifies one as a full initiate ov thee Temple. Applicants must also fill out and submit thee Consent Form.

[NOTE: If you decide to do this Sigil, thee responsibility rests entirely with you. You will gain from it, not thee Temple. Thee Temple can not accept any claims against it, arising from thee consequences ov thee Sigil or any related matters. Thee Sigil can only be recommended to those who have reached thee legal age ov consent in thee country in which they live. In the United States this age is 18.]"

(from the Psychick Manifesto- you may remember it as Thee Grey Book)

Attention Seattlites! Check this out.

It seems that the City Council is inviting us to make one-on-one appointments with them to discuss the flailing budget- sounds both entertaining and depressing to me (my experience lobbying in Olympia reminded me just how the bureaucracy-subject can inhabit the politician). Thanks to Graubard for sending this link along.

Corporate Fear

Frank tells me there's "M Profiling" going on in his company.

-----Original Message-----
From: xx
Sent: Tuesday, October 15, 2002 11:59 AM
To: IT Group
Cc: All
Subject: lost emails, spam and virus filters


Hi,

after I have learned that Eyematics email system apparently deletes incoming emails if they contain certain words (like the name 'M'), and as such emails have been deleted without any notification until last Friday, I would like to know:

1) Since when the email system was set up like that?
2) Is there a way to restore the deleted emails or at least tell how many have been deleted?
3) Which keywords trigger the deletion?
4) Can I choose that those email filters get switched off for me? I think I'd rather delete some spam emails myself than getting other emails deleted without knowing about it.

Thanks, xx

Heavy Rotation

I’ll put up some sort of link, as the other bloggers have done, but to begin: Total Lee! The Songs of Lee Hazelwood.

It’s a sweet tribute, really. Some seem to be imitating Lee (and who hasn’t done this in the shower?), others interpret the songs themselves. Highlights for me so far include Calexico doing “Sundown, Sundown” (they add a great sounding trumpet), Kathryn Williams doing “Easy & Me” (what a sweet version of a great song), and Tindersticks doing “My Autumn’s Done Come” (no surprise here- it’s as I would imagine-- lovely).

The real highlight of the CD, however, is the transcription of Lee's commentary, as he listens to each song for the first time. He’s a groovy guy, that Lee Hazelwood. Here’s what he says about Tindersticks:

“I know this. Is English his first language? Sounds awfully young for his autumn to done come. That was what threw me off, the way he sings. I guess he can sing it though, if he wants to, ‘cause I wrote it when I was 28, and put it away. I like the song. I did it for my birthday last year, first time I’ve done it in front of anybody. It’s not strange for me to do it now. The reason I didn’t do it when I was thirty and thirty five and forty, and I could have done, people would say “Whey don’t you do My Autumn’s Done Come?” and I’d say, “Because it hasn’t!” Nancy loves this song. They’ve used that string line that I like. Most of these string parts I sang to the arrangers. They were mine. I always wanted to sing “Cuban Cigars,” but of course we haven’t had anything to do with Cuba for forty years. I’d like to see them do this, I’d like to see them do it. It’s right off the record, it’s perfect. That you! ‘Cause it fits. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. I like it. Somebody in the band was smart enough to know, “Well, we can change a lot of things, but let’s not change that string line ‘cause it fits.” And that’s one of my string lines. Not that I wrote it down on a piece of paper, but I damn well sang it to the arranger over and over and over again ‘til they got it right. I don’t thing he even got it right until we got into the session. ‘Cause the violin players just sit there and look at you. They’re all in the LA Philharmonic anyway, doesn’t make any difference. They like to play little simple songs like I write.”

Favorite quote of the moment, author undisclosed:

"I feel like you'd just be greasing up and bending over to buy real estate right now, but that's just me."

I couldn't have explained my current state of mind better than Crick has, in her interpretation of my bug-eye dream.

If you've ever wondered what rolling with the Mikes looks like (the circumstances are always extenuating, as Anna has aptly noted):

The ones who escape from graduate school seem to find some wonderful things to do with themselves. This is what Cameron's up to in Buenos Aires:

"I lucked into the funniest job ever: English coach for Budweiser commercials. A bunch of US production companies are filming down here because it's so cheap and they do everything in Spanish and English with the same actors who, if they speak any English, have a heavy British accent. So I sit around the set all night eating and smoking until they need me to help the actors say "D'ya wanna dance?" instead of "Do you want to danz?". Hillarious. The last one was supposed to be a summer pool party but we shot all night long and it was freezing so all the extras in skimpy clothes were freezing and had to dance around all night long."

A Dream

There were immobilized bugs- unmoving black dots, the size of small beads. They were unformed until Tom (quirky new landlord) used an eyedropper to drop an alchemic concoction onto them that would make them come alive. The dots would transform into real-life bugs; they’d sprout furry spider legs and squirm around (to freedom, presumably). The task at hand was for Tom to drop the liquid onto a dot, transform it into a bug, and then for me to put this bug into my eye (as you would a contact). We kept trying and trying, but the bugs would scurry away from us. At last I was able to sweep a bug onto my pinky finger, but this one seemed particularly large and furry—I just didn’t want to put it in my eye. I knew that I had to, however, and when this bug escaped like the rest, I knew that we would continue this task until I was successful. (I never was—I awoke to my alarm wondering the hell was going on in my mind.)