Chime Chimeric

Bad Mother's Day Gifts

2009-05-02T12:04:00.001-07:00

Mother's Day is an annual wake up call for me. It requires me to spend a great deal of time on Amazon mulling through various items while simultaneously dealing with profound guilt.

I live 3000 miles opposite my mother. I am not a warm, devoted daughter. I've doled out my fair share of impolite quips, unsympathetic lectures and aggressive narcissist hyperbole.

This is not the first year the holiday falls during a period in which mother will not answer my daily phone call. Radio silence is in its second month. It began with a heated exchange on the social responsibility of nutrition.

So, what do I send this year?

From the brainstorm:

A John Grisham novel. Paperback. Costco. Maybe Nora Roberts. I know she will use that.

Sometimes I build a package myself and bring it to the post office. Because of all that effort and the $10 it takes to ship, those boxes tend to be disappointing.

Once I sent flowers. That seems boring. And they die.

Another time I sent Clif Bars and a DVD. That was a bold move. She liked the bars. Hmmm.

My most successful gift was the classic hand written letter. This years would not stand up to any of the archived issues.

Food (in general delivered via Stop & Shop)

Hawaiian Lei

Robot vacuum

Travel pillow

Blender

Gardening tools

Jack Bauer's 24 on DVD

Some sort of Bible

Yoga mat

But today I will purchase a book on nutrition. The topic she was so inflamed by. Maybe without me distracting, the information will reach her.

I'll add a second book to the order. Ishmael. Maybe that'll make her smile.

Bakon: Bacon Flavored Vodka

2009-04-30T17:04:00.001-07:00

Thank you Geekologie.

Could do a martini. Might like with an oyster.

Would ruin my cosmo.

Recipes below:

Does not have Swine Flu 2009 H1N1

2009-04-30T14:26:00.000-07:00

I don't have it. Neither do you.
Now, get back to work.
Or get hysterical about something that will kill you.
Like boredom, loneliness, absence of purpose/meaning.
And stop hating Mexicans.
Start eating bacon.

CHAMPAGNE & APATHY: Common Mistakes When Receiving Oral Sex

2009-03-10T16:50:00.000-07:00

CHAMPAGNE & APATHY: Common Mistakes When Receiving Oral Sex
Hysterical/graphic account of the Rube Goldberg of fucked up sexual encounters. If you like, tell Buster. His penis earned each and everyone of your laughs.

Broke LA: Free Improv that is actually Awesome

2009-03-10T15:48:00.000-07:00

Broke LA: Free Improv that is actually Awesome

My buddy Cameron Fife is one of the Freedom Snatch six. They are rapidly witty.

Freedom Snatch has won the I/O Improv Cagematch for 28 weeks running. They are that good.

Go see them. I/O West in Hollywood; Thursdays @ 11PM.

Your IT guy working the pole

2009-03-05T11:59:00.000-08:00

Straight from the bowels & exploitative archives of YouTube.... PoleDanceFan presents the pole dance.

His interest in actual proficiency is admirable, but there is clearly something missing from his routine.

How to Make Medicinal Snake Wine

2009-01-24T11:18:00.000-08:00

This exotic tonic was introduced to me by one of the top orthopedic surgeons in the US and a fantastic travel photographer, Bob Derkash. Every sip and following inhale tastes like snake.

Vietnamese herbalists have been prescribing snake wine to patients for centuries. It is said to cure everything from low libido to back pain. Besides flying to Vietnam and buying a bottle of it in a back alley for $25, why not make your own.

Snake wine is made by trapping a small cobra in a bottle and drowning it in rice wine. The dead snake then ferments in the wine releasing chemicals that transform the alcohol into a mystic tonic.

STEP ONE:
Get together your ingredients. You'll need gloves, knife, alcohol cleaning solution, hook for handling a live cobra, funnel, corked glass bottle, rice wine and of course, the live snake.

STEP TWO:
Trap the snake's head under your shoe. Hold its tail in your hand and stretch the snake out. Watch out that it doesn't get a bite out of you. That would probably ruin your winemaking experience. And snake wine doesn't do much for snake bites. Ironic, we know. Cut small slits at the head and tail. Rinse the

STEP THREE:
Slice the snake from head to tail and remove its innards.

STEP FOUR:
Rinse the inside of the snake with the cleaning alcohol solution.

STEP FIVE:
Place the snake in the bottle. Cork the bottle, as the snake will still be wriggling. Get the wine and funnel in place.

STEP SIX:
Find the snake's heart and separate from rest of innards. Place in jar with snake.

STEP SEVEN:
Repeat with more snakes until the jar is 2/3 full.

STEP EIGHT:
Fill jar with rice wine, cork and let sit for at least 3 months.

Legend says snake wine can last as long as 500 years. The longer it ferments, the more potent its medicinal properties become. This is practiced in China, Vietnam, Fuji and other Asian and Pacific Island countries. Scorpions have also been used or supplemented for snakes.

Curious Hats: An Afternoon with Spike Lee & Stew

2009-01-17T03:08:00.000-08:00

For the life of me Spike Lee just always sounds like the white one. And I'll never properly recite the title of the brilliant documentary he premiered at Sundance yesterday.

Passing Strange is a Spike Lee documentary, but for all other purposes it is a musical unlike any other. A good friend passed me a comp ticket and despite already hearing how wonderful it was, I could not put 2+4 together, arriving pretty oblivious.

Passing Strange will inevitably land on a Sunday night somewhere between Showtime and HBO. It is an incredible non-Dreamgirls/Moulin Rouge musical. The recording is a documentary of the last two performances it had on Broadway at the Richard Rodgers last summer '08.

Thank you Stew, Spike, etc. The story of Youth has and will continue to inspire me to love more and work harder.

Oh, and we had matching white poofy hats. His marked with a Yankee NY, mine a Peruvian import.

Dealing in Intangibles

2009-01-08T16:25:00.000-08:00

What happens to our economy when we lose Blockbuster, Barnes & Noble and the public library? A lot more than industry shift and For Rent sign shortages. We lose the trust, the people, the face to face accountability. When you shopped at a store in the ancient times, you exchanged money (the value of this tangible is up for another lengthy discussion) for a tangible item, such as a CD or book. Amazon and iTunes make this transaction obsolete. Two clicks and you have megabits of data transmitted to you magically.

I got kicked off YouTube for legitimate copyright violations. I also got kicked off for a flurry of poor flags regarding footage I owned. In a flickr, I lost all of the value that my account had accrued. Millions of viewers is lots of potential energy and possible revenue. It IS power. But at a whim, YouTube-Google swiped it away. With quick CPM advertising crunching I could value the loss at $10,000. Ouch.

So, who do I call? How can I avoid this unfair practice from ever affecting me. If YouTube was down the block I'd stop shopping there, bring my business elsewhere. Hmmm. Yahoo! Video? Yeah, right.

Hey, US Justice Dept, is there are problem here.

The Facebook Problem:
Valuation of 15+ billion USD is more than threatening to brick and mortars. That's ten times the value of Coca Cola. That's a bigger price tag than the US auto industry. This presents many issues that we've not had to conceive of except in love and marriage: trust.

Not just to protect your privacy and not abuse the catalog of information they now own. Go to Facebook and you don't see a Book. No facebooks a la collegiate dorm rooms. Just non-brand Dells and hundreds of nerds. They have no assets. Just perceived assets. Projected wealth. Value in an idea that has nothing to show for their value, but a PowerPoint and some Analytics.

The hypocrite ponders. Sitting atop a pile of potential energy, toggling with the output of one's mind. My receipt is vouchers for a promise of further receipts (IOUs for IOUs). Give me a greenback for a word and the cycle will keep me on the dole.

Vegas Ills

2009-01-05T17:44:00.000-08:00

Gas station slot machines, pimps sunbathing on the scattered grass patches, eco-abusive use of the 'oasis'. Las Vegas is sad.

To enjoy it, one must load up like HST.

What I'd give to be a gonzo today.

Backstage at the Obama rallies-- like snorting sideways with Cobain in '92.

Viral Pulled

2009-01-05T17:37:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Warner Music Group, my run as a YouTube titan ended. Christmas Day the cease/desist style letter was delivered.

My video splice of Shane Mercado's Single Man with Beyoncé's Single Ladies ended the run with over 4 million view and 13,000+ comments.

Most of it's exposure overcame a homophobic flag of '18+/mature' content that required any viewers to be registered (adult) users of YT.

It was fun(ny) while it lasted.

Here is the final victory shot.

No parody laws to hide behind either.

Alcholism en Masse is Saturday Night?

2008-12-06T23:26:00.000-08:00

Early. Third year of high school, I was addressed formally. Not in a health class, but a shrink's office. A shrink I didn't pay for. He was a 'mentor'. He ran a legion of Young Achievers that reached out to their even younger counterparts. It was performance art, literally and figuratively. We staged enactments to illustrate the dangers in drugs/sex. Performances.

When I was confronted in a sit-down manner about my dark hour dalliances, it came with great girth. I drank alone. Once. That was the straw. Shrink said my behavior was (displaying signs of) alcoholism. Alcoholics cannot control their consumption. Drinking alone was a sign that the consumption had taken over.

Those whom had consumed strictly amongst friends-- clearly sober folk.

Tonight I drank alone. $2 bottle of Cabernet from the grocery. Cheap, but it's got an 84. I was alone for most of my sipping. I was cooking. This was night two of my culinary charade. And night two of the sipping. If anything came from my sips, it was the deep solace of an easy night. I felt a great sense of indulgence in my own spirit. Nothing like that night last week, when amongst friends I helped a teenager celebrate his birthday by giving him the lap dance of his (thus far) life. Everyone was drunk. It was wonderful.

And healthy.

To life. Cheers.

Mexican Thanks

2008-12-02T18:39:00.000-08:00

The entourage ventured south for the holiday weekend. Colin and I have celebrated Thanksgiving in La Mision (c. K58 ) for years now. Since my father migrated to California 18 months ago, he's been accompanying us.

Traffic forced us to cross at the alternative border terminal of Otay Mesa. Our wait time was 3.5 hours. This is longer than normal. Besides the performance by 'Fire Breather', the voyage was terrible.

What in the heck is a barack obama?

2008-11-04T15:30:00.000-08:00

The Onion ran that as a faux community comment. It strikes me as exceedingly relevant.

I voted last week absentee. Some of the elections, like the CA state courts, I was totally ignorant to. I hastily scribbled in bubbles without much, if any knowledge of the candidates. Mainly, I chose them on their occupations and names.

I fear I am not the only one that takes to such measures when they feel ignorant.

McCain resonates with the familiarity of an elementary school teacher.

Unfortunately the only thing familiar about good ole Barry's surname is it rhymes with Bin Laden.

Ohhh, phooey.

Good riddance W!

Gone Viral

2008-10-30T11:44:00.000-07:00

I've been hustling the internets for years now. Lapping up the YouTube like the rest of us. I distinctly remember first typing in the domain utube.com-- When it didn't work I dismissed it. I'd watch my friend Mark flying twenty feet high on a tube towed behind a jet boat on Lake Lillanoah later.

Then came the WonderHowTo.com era. I've watched zillions of video, promoted thousands. Only now am I finally distributing my own viral video(ehh I was the EP).

On day 3, it has 60k views, 653 favorites, 433 comments, 202 ratings.

Enjoy. Shane & Beyonce do yo thang.

Birds Don't Pee

2008-10-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

That is why their poop is white!

I was just reading a detailed essay on poop and discovered this wonderful... ahem, nugget of info.

Ooo, what will I discover next?

Hyper Editing by Lasse Gjertsen

2008-10-16T17:36:00.000-07:00

This Norwegian guy makes great animated movies. And then sometimes he plays music. This is a hyper-editing technique that splices. It gets pretty phenomenal at 1:23 when he split screens it.

CollegeHumor's: I Hate Nature

2008-10-16T11:54:00.000-07:00

Mocking the BBC/National Geographic authentic love for all lifeforms, this CollegeHumor video is a bit hysterical.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Self Promotion - An Amazon in the Amazon

2008-10-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

I've been hustling. I'm plotting.

Thus, 2 articles in two months.

I'm exploiting myself. And the media...

Part for some time stamped and archived evidence that I exist. Part to make Mom smile.

Wholly manipulative.

Here goes: Brookfield Natives Paddle World's Largest River

Note: the local news that reels to the right of this article is ominous, to say the least.

There is not a single story besides ours that's not from the police blotter.

First of Many WTF videos... Midget + Clinton + Wrestling

2008-10-10T13:47:00.001-07:00

Culturally relevant, yet fantastically surreal exit from today's new feed from hell.
Economy in the shitter? Oh well.... Let's go watch La Pequena in Hilary Clinton/Hulk drag as a Luchadora wrestler.

From where I left off...

2008-10-06T20:35:00.000-07:00

Day One:

I started blogging in '05. I thought I was late to the party then. Now, I've clearly neglected the night altogether; here I sit, face full of tailwind gloating about how right Richard Russell was 'back then' in 2006 when he brought attention to the $0.85 trillion that the US printed in a single year. Money ain't nothing but a fancy-print IOU. Go ahead, write the check for $700 billion. Why not make it $1 trillion and keep it metric!

Great minds (Ron Paul, Duck Tales) guide us through the current strainer farm with this fine piece of YouTube: The Bailout Won't Work by DemocracyNow!

"20 April 2006

What We Work For

"Over the last year the US has "created" roughly $850 billion additional dollars, an enormous amount. "

Richard Russell

http://www.investmentrarities.com/thebestofrr.html

The Archive from GenerationSplit

2008-10-05T13:46:00.000-07:00

08 August 2006

SleepingInAirports.com

PARIS (CDG) (Contributed by Amie Coué)
02/06 (Air France Terminal - Main Lobby / Check-in Counters) - "CDG was given a hard report in the past reviews so I knew I might have a hellish night's sleep, but with an early flight, i was disinterested in another expensive evening in the world's most romantic city, alone. i was lucky and had a very restful night sleeping on a closed restaurant's leather cushioned booth, in a section of the Air France's international terminal. That terminal closes from 1630-530 everyday, but is constantly patrolled by security, armed military, and german shepards. the patrols were respectful and necessary in easing my mind as a young woman just off a month of traveller's nervosa. tips to sleep in such conditions are obvious: your own snacks and a water bottle as everything shuts down around 1am, sleeping bag or snag a blanket from your carrier, go early. i knew i was going to be out a bed so I started scouting the airport around 8pm. i was the first to discover the "beds" in the vacant restaurant, but within the hour it was full. it was the best night of sleep i could imagine. Suprisingly, when I made it through security/border into the gate area of terminal 2A I was not in envy of those caught on the opposite side. it was dirtier and had much less space and accomodation. my only complaint is not airport specific, but irritating for a slumber nonetheless: Paris Smokes. Smoking in the airport is open air and very common, withotu much penalty. In the end, i was fortunate to look on to the night with such fear that the pleasant experience was heightened with my surprise." Added 06 April 06

http://sleepinginairports.com/europe/paris.htm

30 April 2006

Punched in the Face

The blood in my mouth, it ain’t mine
The hairs, yours too

And the seeds and the leaves,
The dirt and the skin
None of it came from me

Seasons of LA

Fire

Pilot

Tourist

Flood

Summer

Ocean Too Dirty for Surf Cause it Rained

28 April 2006

Story of Beth

PDF#7

Years of avoiding the film industry flashed by. Why? There is money to be made, much more money. Evan searches for a virtuous retort, artistic preservation. His attempt cripples into an anxious excuse.

“I’m afraid of destroying the story. Besides, doesn’t anyone read anymore?”

“Only when I can’t afford the movie.”

A jubilant beast of a man, Mike, tosses his hand through the swivel door and into the kitchen.

“There you are!” His salutation is met with mutual confusion, Beth and Evan straighten their slouches in attention. In unison, they both automate an uncertain “yeah”.

Mike catches his breath, only barely, before turning to Evan, “Hey buddy, where the hell you been? You know Renee’s been searching!” Evan again without a solid reply lifts his bottle and shrugs.

Mike moves erratically trying to think of the next issue of business, the search having obviously been quite taxing. “OH! Evan, I want you to meet my date.” Mike gestures at Beth proudly as if he unveiled original art.

The confusion again returns to Beth and Evan, who play along for their befuddled friend, shaking hands with shaky smirks.

Interactive 2000, Las Vegas

In January 1998, I took a flight back to Las Vegas. Another convention. These deals were drab; they involved nametags and seminars, and the crux that never relented was you got to spend your smoke breaks twitching from the glare of florescent lights and stale coffee. Hellish boredom brewed, perched with a taunting vantage and partitioned from the women and hot card tables. Circumstance left most minds in frustrated fever or at least a serotonin hyperflux. This trip was going to be work, no matter the drink or dance a city of such excess could present. It was all business.

From the backseat of a lux-cab I cursed the windows and everything they framed. There was little in this town I cared to tempt with thought. I stared out from the car with a drone’s mind. Nothing registered with any variance, but the rows of chapels. I took to counting them; a slippery headache required anything to pass the time. You wouldn’t build your house next to a 76 Station and freeway ramp, but there stood “Little Chapel of Love”.

My eyes slammed shut. I still needed the protection. It was an hour from the airport, with traffic and such. The heat is something to dodge, and after the first class walk across the tarmac, I was determined to stay out of heat’s grip for the rest of the day. The destination was subterranean of the Monte Carlo, a brand new attraction on the Disneyfied section of the strip. Underground, valet just slots you right up to the showers and sheets. Darkness and spits of CNN lulled me to an early night.

Day one, always like the first day of school, or orientation, meet the parents, grovel at a glitz-wristed chairman, clap unnecessarily long and with frequency. I sauntered through the carpeted tube of appointed doors and mirrors to the elevator. Naturally, conventions were executed with every accommodation to encourage immersion and complete focus from all in attendance. We were a microcosm, a conglomerate of mauve and navy suited tweebs on a corporate retreat. Bunking up at the same casino meant we would be a community. We would grow.

“Interactive 2000” the announcement tickered across the glowing LED’s of the Monte Carlo’s street side mega-marquee. Interactive catered to businesses in the 900 number and cyber porn rackets. It was niche specific. The new angle meets its antecedent, an experiment. 2000 was either a quick attachment to the future a la Clarke/Kubrick or an industry membership tally. There is always the possibility that the number 2000 was entirely arbitrary; in any act of sale, the concept of arbitrary is entirely clandestine.

Putting away the new sunglasses I’d already scratched, I kicked the last of a few morning cigs into the bed of glowing orange flowers. “Never been used, already broke. Oh God, another IT conference.”

I was vulnerable--out here without a preoccupation. There were men milling with their papers and I couldn’t bear to mix in any bland reviews of the hotel, at least not before the coffee struck a vein. I could fortify and smoke again. It might help in making it through the upcoming drone, but the pack was killed. Lighter still on tenterhooks, I sucked at the air, eyes closed, hoping that my deep breathing would deter the conventioneers from trying to set up a buddy pact for the rest of our shared eternity. Some suits strolled by, and my hyperventilation increased naturally from a growing actual nervosa. This functioned well enough to deflect almost all the meet and greet attention. It wasn’t a genuine issue of misanthropy, but I couldn’t stand any hasty leaps in patronage so early in the week.

27 April 2006

Antiguan Processian

Antigua, Guatemala
December 2005

We sat in the truck, between rocks and a hard place. It was approaching about a half hour since anything moved. Forty since our wheels even rolled. If Liz angled it right, we may have an out through the rubble beside the passenger door. We couldn’t just tear through and around the bus that blocked the road. The rubble was Holy, well sacred, then converted Holy. The rocks belonged to the treasured Mayan ruins scattered about Antigua. No tourists made our sight a destination. It was dysmorphic and poorly lit, unfit for remembrance of any time.

posted by GenerationSplit at 5:30 PM 0 comments