I grew up in a medium-sized suburb called Garland, Texas. Here is the city's homepage. I knew that people paid a lot of attention to football, but myself lost interest as I grew older. I went to only a couple of games for my middle school team, since I was on the yearbook staff & had to take pictures. I never went to any of my high school's games. Actually, I might have gone to one. Yeah, I went to one. In my senior year. I remember everyone I knew being surprised to see me there. & it was chilly. & afterwards, I deejayed for the first time at the after-game dance, & I did an astonishingly bad job. The shape of things to come!
College football is another thing entirely, of course, & I never went to a single game at the University of Texas, when I was a student or later as staff. (Here is Austin's web site.) In fact, the games were very inconvenient for me since I used to spend Saturdays at KVRX, & of course campus was clogged when there were games. One time, I was walking to the station, which was away from the game, & some already drunk dudes passed me & said, "Hey, you're going to wrong way!" I said, somewhat snottily, "No, I think I'm going exactly the right way." I didn't smile or turn around or anything, but one of them said, "He's lookin' to get his ass kicked!" But I didn't get my ass kicked.
But even though Austin slowed down during UT football games, & it was generally quieter at supermarkets & the like during such times, the city never shut down the way Huntington was this afternoon. Granted, Huntington (whose web page is right here) is about a tenth the size of Austin, & less than a quarter the size of Garland, but wow! The city was quiet as if there had been an invasion this afternoon because of the football game. What football game? Er. I didn't ask. Let me check.
Ah! It was the season opener, & Marshall University beat Southern Illinois 31-28. I beat there's a lot of happy folks tonight. Good for them! I think I'm going to watch Green Acres instead. Speaking of, have I ever shown you my Green Acres fan fiction? I really should.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Friday, September 04, 2009
Manna Mania
From the Wikipedia:
As a natural food substance, manna would produce waste products; but in classical rabbinical literature, as a supernatural substance, it was held that manna produced no waste, resulting in no defecation among the Israelites until several decades later, when the manna had ceased to fall. Modern medical science suggests the lack of defecation over such a long period of time would cause severe bowel problems, especially when other food later began to be consumed again. Classical rabbinical writers say that the Israelites complained about the lack of defecation, and were concerned about potential bowel problems.
They used every part of the manna, no shit.
That's manna mania!
As a natural food substance, manna would produce waste products; but in classical rabbinical literature, as a supernatural substance, it was held that manna produced no waste, resulting in no defecation among the Israelites until several decades later, when the manna had ceased to fall. Modern medical science suggests the lack of defecation over such a long period of time would cause severe bowel problems, especially when other food later began to be consumed again. Classical rabbinical writers say that the Israelites complained about the lack of defecation, and were concerned about potential bowel problems.
They used every part of the manna, no shit.
That's manna mania!
Thursday, September 03, 2009
The Other End Of The Loop
Huzzah & hurrah! Yesterday's Self Help Radio show is up for those of you foolish enough to have missed its initial airing at selfhelpradio.net! Alert the authorities! Countermand the captain's orders! Belay that! Belie that! Bellow from the rooftips! Cut the blond from your hairtips! Cut the bland with your fingertips! & by all means tip your caddy!
Also huzzah & as well hurrah! In the same place, with a slightly more poppy feel, is the fifth non-fattening episode of Sugar Substitute. Loaded with confection, you can play it in public & it'll slightly increase your intrinsic self-worth. Psychologist-apprised & well worth its own sweet time!
Please be a dear & go listen to them. Daddy needs to have a nap now.
Also huzzah & as well hurrah! In the same place, with a slightly more poppy feel, is the fifth non-fattening episode of Sugar Substitute. Loaded with confection, you can play it in public & it'll slightly increase your intrinsic self-worth. Psychologist-apprised & well worth its own sweet time!
Please be a dear & go listen to them. Daddy needs to have a nap now.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Game Duh
I'm on the air in about an hour on 88.1 fm WMUL Huntington. If you're not able to listen to it, I'll be archiving the show tomorrow at selfhelpradio.net. I have to go clean my shoes & shine my spats - must look spiffy for the radio crowd! Hope to hear that your heard!
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Stay Of Elocution
Yeah, it turns out that there was scheduling issue today at WMUL, so I didn't get to do Self Help Radio. It'll air tomorrow on 88.1 at 3pm, & maybe again next Wednesday at that time. The new schedule will begin the week after next, so my timeslot (if I get one I hope I get one!) should be stable for a while after that. Tune in!
I probably didn't coin the pun "stay of elocution," but I did use it in a poem I wrote a million years ago. It was called "Stripper Girlfriend" & went like this:
what is light after all but the end of the denial & the rest
of the afternoon spent secretly dreaming of management games
& chests pressed sternly against sidewalk & self or did they
in half of one six dozen of the other somehow tell everybody
that subdued sadness or repressed depression manages to lift
out of sex & affection when least is likely & knowing naught
is not the right response but what i mean or what i'm trying
to say whether love or whether apple core clues or whether a
stay of elocution pumps honesty or not like i care to get at
the meat of the matter or the jism of the gist or the broken
heart of the moment need sweaty bloody teary-eyed courageous
& all i ever manage is hold on hold back hold it right there
ha eyelids make smashing sounds & perspective is a curse but
end of the tunnel faster than the thankfully schoolyard bang
bang or did i mention marriage because the shadow cross play
& play house too closely for me to pharmacy & farm community
in isolation is another dreamy dream like losing nothingness
your best friend the only one who understands you sacrifices
inlove for breakfast eugene v debs for places to go peephole
to see the never never ain't forever what with bookends here
& over here so excuse me tough time opening this jar of meat
loaf should be pandora's box it's surely not happening is it
I probably didn't coin the pun "stay of elocution," but I did use it in a poem I wrote a million years ago. It was called "Stripper Girlfriend" & went like this:
what is light after all but the end of the denial & the rest
of the afternoon spent secretly dreaming of management games
& chests pressed sternly against sidewalk & self or did they
in half of one six dozen of the other somehow tell everybody
that subdued sadness or repressed depression manages to lift
out of sex & affection when least is likely & knowing naught
is not the right response but what i mean or what i'm trying
to say whether love or whether apple core clues or whether a
stay of elocution pumps honesty or not like i care to get at
the meat of the matter or the jism of the gist or the broken
heart of the moment need sweaty bloody teary-eyed courageous
& all i ever manage is hold on hold back hold it right there
ha eyelids make smashing sounds & perspective is a curse but
end of the tunnel faster than the thankfully schoolyard bang
bang or did i mention marriage because the shadow cross play
& play house too closely for me to pharmacy & farm community
in isolation is another dreamy dream like losing nothingness
your best friend the only one who understands you sacrifices
inlove for breakfast eugene v debs for places to go peephole
to see the never never ain't forever what with bookends here
& over here so excuse me tough time opening this jar of meat
loaf should be pandora's box it's surely not happening is it
Monday, August 31, 2009
I Was Going To Call This Particular Post "The Night Before"
But it turns out I may be moving the show around again to air on Wednesdays from 3 to 5.
So you'll just have to wait till tomorrow to find out. I have to wait the rest of the night, I think.
So you'll just have to wait till tomorrow to find out. I have to wait the rest of the night, I think.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Whither Loops?
In high school, I came the closest to fulfilling my aspirations of being a rock & roll star (aspirations which, by the way, I never pursued with any sort of determination - so it's not like I'm heartbroken it didn't happen) when an old friend - who really could play musical instruments, &, unlike me, could also sing - had me come in & horse around with him, making stuff up while he played basic chord progressions on the guitar (in those days, this friend was more of a loner, & he would then spend days adding other stuff - drums, backing vocals, other guitars - in the privacy of his lonesome room with a four-track recorder). Thus was born such incredible songs you'll never hear like "Teenage Zombie," "Prom Night," "Battering Ram," "Officer Burrell Has Some Documents For You To Sign," & "Vandal With Me," as well as eminently forgettable covers of U2's "I Will Follow" (in which I ad-libbed the lines, "I'll follow you to your house - to you grandmother's house - I'll wait in the bathroom - I will follow!") & ZZ Top's "Sharp Dressed Man," which I was openly mocking by perfectly enunciating the doggerel lyrics. I still fucking hate that song.
My pal Joe gave us a name - Atheists On A Mission From God - but it turned out to be ill-timed, as my loner friend was finding Jesus simultaneous to our musical adventures & would eventually stop talking to me for years because I was an infidel & he couldn't save me. You can imagine that, for a young man surreptitiously (well, he didn't tell me) finding God, it must have rankled when I'd phone up & say, "Hey, wanna do some Atheists stuff this weekend?"
Those songs are all lost, more or less. I probably have them on cassette somewhere, but the cassettes have probably melted or oxidized or whatever happens to old cassettes. I was pretty young at the time - 17 or 18 - but boy did I have fun. I wish then we had had the digital technology we have now. My friend destroyed his copies (along with a lot of his own recordings, I think, & a lot of his record collection, which had a lot of Satanic stuff in it, like Talking Heads) when he was saved by Jesus. Jesus may well have been doing the world a favor!
Of all the songs to be least proud of is "Battering Ram," a sexist ode which is a ridiculous boast from me, a boy who hadn't yet had sex, about my member's terrifying abilities to break down the walls of love (literally?) over a twelve-bar blues. Inane, but the whole point was that I was trying to crack up my musician friend (who gave the song its title - I didn't then & still don't think that way) with dumb lines like:
I dated this girl about four days
I said "Baby something's getting in the way"
No problem, battering ram!
At the end of the song, while I was singing "I'm a battering ram," my friend said, "His bedroom's an obstacle course." So I added, "Watch it jump through the hoops, do loop-de-loops, battering, battering ram." I can still both see my friend crack up & hear it in my head. He was one of those people you liked to make laugh.
That "loop" song is one, though, you won't hear on Self Help Radio this week. Or ever. If I can help it.
My pal Joe gave us a name - Atheists On A Mission From God - but it turned out to be ill-timed, as my loner friend was finding Jesus simultaneous to our musical adventures & would eventually stop talking to me for years because I was an infidel & he couldn't save me. You can imagine that, for a young man surreptitiously (well, he didn't tell me) finding God, it must have rankled when I'd phone up & say, "Hey, wanna do some Atheists stuff this weekend?"
Those songs are all lost, more or less. I probably have them on cassette somewhere, but the cassettes have probably melted or oxidized or whatever happens to old cassettes. I was pretty young at the time - 17 or 18 - but boy did I have fun. I wish then we had had the digital technology we have now. My friend destroyed his copies (along with a lot of his own recordings, I think, & a lot of his record collection, which had a lot of Satanic stuff in it, like Talking Heads) when he was saved by Jesus. Jesus may well have been doing the world a favor!
Of all the songs to be least proud of is "Battering Ram," a sexist ode which is a ridiculous boast from me, a boy who hadn't yet had sex, about my member's terrifying abilities to break down the walls of love (literally?) over a twelve-bar blues. Inane, but the whole point was that I was trying to crack up my musician friend (who gave the song its title - I didn't then & still don't think that way) with dumb lines like:
I dated this girl about four days
I said "Baby something's getting in the way"
No problem, battering ram!
At the end of the song, while I was singing "I'm a battering ram," my friend said, "His bedroom's an obstacle course." So I added, "Watch it jump through the hoops, do loop-de-loops, battering, battering ram." I can still both see my friend crack up & hear it in my head. He was one of those people you liked to make laugh.
That "loop" song is one, though, you won't hear on Self Help Radio this week. Or ever. If I can help it.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Preface To Loops: You Can Loop This Blog Post & Rap Over It
I miss working at the University of Texas for one really big reason: the campus has a subscription to the Oxford English Dictionary Online. You know how much it costs for one person, like me, who might only use it now & again, & usually for my dumbass radio shows? Two hundred & ninety five dollars a year! That's amazing. Of course, the twenty-volume set costs a thousand dollars, so I suppose it's something of a bargain. Not all that looking up, leafing through pages, etc. You know, the stuff that makes books so much fun.
I can use dictionary.com, but it doesn't have those archaic quotes from writers that I'm sure seemed a lot more important at the time that the OED has. It does, however, have twenty-nine definitions for "loop" so I am a little grateful for that. I can also used Merriam-Webster, which is also free but a little clunky to navigate through. The other Webster's is by far the most comprehensive & free, yet I don't know why - I still miss the OED.
I think it's that you can turn off & on, like etymology & quotes. I am a sucker for sites that let you hide & show information.
You know, if you spend a little time with dictionaries online you can see where I get a lot of info I impart on the show. That's probably not a good thing to tell you - maybe you would otherwise think I am much smarter than I really am. But there you are. You can think I'm loopy - even if I'm not looped but sober - you can grab me by the pants loop or take me around town on the loop - but now you're in the Self Help Radio loop. Enjoy.
I can use dictionary.com, but it doesn't have those archaic quotes from writers that I'm sure seemed a lot more important at the time that the OED has. It does, however, have twenty-nine definitions for "loop" so I am a little grateful for that. I can also used Merriam-Webster, which is also free but a little clunky to navigate through. The other Webster's is by far the most comprehensive & free, yet I don't know why - I still miss the OED.
I think it's that you can turn off & on, like etymology & quotes. I am a sucker for sites that let you hide & show information.
You know, if you spend a little time with dictionaries online you can see where I get a lot of info I impart on the show. That's probably not a good thing to tell you - maybe you would otherwise think I am much smarter than I really am. But there you are. You can think I'm loopy - even if I'm not looped but sober - you can grab me by the pants loop or take me around town on the loop - but now you're in the Self Help Radio loop. Enjoy.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Loop Loopy
You get kind of loopy listening to songs both about loops (including the clothing kind) as well as songs constructed with weirdly obvious loops, & as such you begin to find yourself thinking about, I don't know, dressing up your dog as the Starship Enterprise. How bad an idea can it be?
Whatever happened to all those people who wanted to raise their own money to keep a Star Trek franchise show on the air? Did the new Star Trek movie quiet them down? Or will they continue to make their own movies? (I confess, I really like the tag line of that homemade Star Trek movie, "Star Trek - Of Gods & Men": "Legends come together one last time... To destroy each other." But wouldn't it be better if the last part were all caps? "Legends come together one last time... TO DESTROY EACH OTHER." Also, shouldn't there be an exclamation point? "Legends come together one last time... TO DESTROY EACH OTHER!"
Maybe then I'd find it & watch it.
That's not true - I'm a huge Star Trek nerd but I barely choked down Enterprise & Voyager. The new movie was a lot of fun. If they're not going to try to make a series like Deep Space Nine again, I can handle reinvention & big budgets. Although there should have a been a little Shatner in the new movie, you know?
You heard me!
Whatever happened to all those people who wanted to raise their own money to keep a Star Trek franchise show on the air? Did the new Star Trek movie quiet them down? Or will they continue to make their own movies? (I confess, I really like the tag line of that homemade Star Trek movie, "Star Trek - Of Gods & Men": "Legends come together one last time... To destroy each other." But wouldn't it be better if the last part were all caps? "Legends come together one last time... TO DESTROY EACH OTHER." Also, shouldn't there be an exclamation point? "Legends come together one last time... TO DESTROY EACH OTHER!"
Maybe then I'd find it & watch it.
That's not true - I'm a huge Star Trek nerd but I barely choked down Enterprise & Voyager. The new movie was a lot of fun. If they're not going to try to make a series like Deep Space Nine again, I can handle reinvention & big budgets. Although there should have a been a little Shatner in the new movie, you know?
You heard me!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Taking Thursdays Off
I was thinking of taking Thursdays off writing this blog. Having Self Help Radio be on a Tuesday severely screws with my ridiculous artificial structure for the blog, which, when SHR was on a Friday (or when I unveiled the podcast on Saturday), was all like:
MONDAY: Remind folks I put last week's show on the web site over the weekend.
TUESDAY: Mostly nonsensical "preface to" whatever theme I was covering that week.
WEDNESDAY: Equally inane "whither the theme?" post.
THURSDAY: Treading water.
FRIDAY: The show's on today! Or the show's on this weekend!
But I can't seem to get into any sort of rhythm with the show on Tuesday. & I tend to put the show up on Wednesday, which is sort of the new Saturday, so I can't not write something until Friday. That doesn't feel right. So I think I'll just take Thursdays off & maybe even Sunday or something. I am not in any way interesting enough to write something funny &/or/god forbid insightful more than three or four days a week.
I know, no one cares but me. Man, I wish I read this blog!
Also, if I take Thursdays off, I guess I have to start next week. Damn it!
MONDAY: Remind folks I put last week's show on the web site over the weekend.
TUESDAY: Mostly nonsensical "preface to" whatever theme I was covering that week.
WEDNESDAY: Equally inane "whither the theme?" post.
THURSDAY: Treading water.
FRIDAY: The show's on today! Or the show's on this weekend!
But I can't seem to get into any sort of rhythm with the show on Tuesday. & I tend to put the show up on Wednesday, which is sort of the new Saturday, so I can't not write something until Friday. That doesn't feel right. So I think I'll just take Thursdays off & maybe even Sunday or something. I am not in any way interesting enough to write something funny &/or/god forbid insightful more than three or four days a week.
I know, no one cares but me. Man, I wish I read this blog!
Also, if I take Thursdays off, I guess I have to start next week. Damn it!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
This Week's Show, It's Up
Sorry for the perfunctory post, but other things are occupying your host's time. Please have a listen to the Self Help Radio show about dimensions - as well as this week's episode of the pop show Sugar Substitute - at selfhelpradio.net. Then make everyone you know listen to it. Form little clubs to discuss its possible merits & obvious failings. Write long academic papers about it. Copy it to a small external drive or your mp3 player & sleep with it under your pillow. Use it instead of prayer when you feel like asking something of imaginary deities. The show is for you. Have a little fun with it.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Pocket Holes
Oh boy! A website that teaches how to sew!
Not that I plan to learn how to sew. Self Help Radio is happening today at 3pm on 88.1 fm WMUL Huntington! I don't even have a needle & thread.
But I do have a hole in my right front pocket. I just put my change & keys in my left pocket. For the time being.
I don't think I've ever had a hole in my back pockets. I have had a hole in the back of my pants, of course, from my days as a professional cactus sitter. That's a part of my past I'd prefer to not discuss.
Neither my cats nor my dogs have a problem with pocket holes, but despite their insistence that they do have pockets, they don't have pants, & that's one thing they seem to insist more than anything else, except that they're hungry - "We have pockets!" they bark or meow. It's a little ridiculous, but they are ridiculous creatures.
I know, I did a show about pockets many moons ago. But when have I ever had to worry about fixing a hole in my dimension? When do pets talk about dimensions?
This is the material I have to work with.
Not that I plan to learn how to sew. Self Help Radio is happening today at 3pm on 88.1 fm WMUL Huntington! I don't even have a needle & thread.
But I do have a hole in my right front pocket. I just put my change & keys in my left pocket. For the time being.
I don't think I've ever had a hole in my back pockets. I have had a hole in the back of my pants, of course, from my days as a professional cactus sitter. That's a part of my past I'd prefer to not discuss.
Neither my cats nor my dogs have a problem with pocket holes, but despite their insistence that they do have pockets, they don't have pants, & that's one thing they seem to insist more than anything else, except that they're hungry - "We have pockets!" they bark or meow. It's a little ridiculous, but they are ridiculous creatures.
I know, I did a show about pockets many moons ago. But when have I ever had to worry about fixing a hole in my dimension? When do pets talk about dimensions?
This is the material I have to work with.
Monday, August 24, 2009
The Thin Layers Between The Dimensions Are So Handily Separated
It is a super power one can sometimes get by exposure to radioactive Sevin Dust &/or chocolate with too much fudge within. It is not a super power that one would know how to use unless one was actively seeking to separate the thin layers between the dimensions. If you happen to have this super power, & you don't want to separate the thin layers between the dimensions, please read no further. Below is a brief overview of the process of separating the thin layers between the dimensions.
Please note: Self Help Radio is not responsible for irresponsible use of this information. Separating the thin layers between dimensions can sometimes cause unexpected & usually lethal release of something toxic from the dimension which is separated from our own by only a thin layer. Proceed with caution & always remember to be armed with either a spray can filled with a carbonated citrus-based liquid &/or a picture of a person on fire.
First: Dimensions don't just exist perpendicular with our own; they exist perpendicular to every point of our own. Therefore there are virtually an infinite number of dimensions.
Second: If you can open the thin layers that separate our dimensions, & you attempt to pull back a layer, you will only open one.
Third: It really depends where you start. Most people with the super power to be able to separate the thin layers between dimensions can open a layer with a finger or, at most, a grabby motion with the hand.
Fourth: There's no truth to the rumor that the better dimensions are accessible at groin level.
Fifth: Despite what one might think, dimensions being virtually infinite, & the ability separate the thin layers between them utterly contingent on the point at which you begin, it is entirely possible to avoid opening bad dimensions.
Sixth: Bad dimensions are the ones that can kill or otherwise hurt you.
Seventh: Bad dimensions are much, much easier to access than good dimensions. Which is to say, the thin layers that separate our dimension from bad dimensions are much easier to breach. Bad dimensions are shabbily kept.
Eighth: It is true that our dimension has a reputation for being a bad dimension.
Ninth: This may explain why so few being from the better dimension don't venture into ours terribly often.
Tenth: If you must travel into another dimension, good or bad, please make sure to leave open the thin layers that separate it from ours, or else you may never find your way back again. It's perfectly all right to pack a lunch.
More dimensional travel instructions may be available on tomorrow's Self Help Radio.
Please note: Self Help Radio is not responsible for irresponsible use of this information. Separating the thin layers between dimensions can sometimes cause unexpected & usually lethal release of something toxic from the dimension which is separated from our own by only a thin layer. Proceed with caution & always remember to be armed with either a spray can filled with a carbonated citrus-based liquid &/or a picture of a person on fire.
First: Dimensions don't just exist perpendicular with our own; they exist perpendicular to every point of our own. Therefore there are virtually an infinite number of dimensions.
Second: If you can open the thin layers that separate our dimensions, & you attempt to pull back a layer, you will only open one.
Third: It really depends where you start. Most people with the super power to be able to separate the thin layers between dimensions can open a layer with a finger or, at most, a grabby motion with the hand.
Fourth: There's no truth to the rumor that the better dimensions are accessible at groin level.
Fifth: Despite what one might think, dimensions being virtually infinite, & the ability separate the thin layers between them utterly contingent on the point at which you begin, it is entirely possible to avoid opening bad dimensions.
Sixth: Bad dimensions are the ones that can kill or otherwise hurt you.
Seventh: Bad dimensions are much, much easier to access than good dimensions. Which is to say, the thin layers that separate our dimension from bad dimensions are much easier to breach. Bad dimensions are shabbily kept.
Eighth: It is true that our dimension has a reputation for being a bad dimension.
Ninth: This may explain why so few being from the better dimension don't venture into ours terribly often.
Tenth: If you must travel into another dimension, good or bad, please make sure to leave open the thin layers that separate it from ours, or else you may never find your way back again. It's perfectly all right to pack a lunch.
More dimensional travel instructions may be available on tomorrow's Self Help Radio.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sounding Like A Whiny Child Rethinking Its Options
Nothing puzzles more the inclusive mind than the frustrating possessive pronoun problem. To this day, it rankles to substitute the plural when not wanting to sound like a sexist dope. "If a person wants to use these facilities, they need to ask the manager on duty." How that grates. But you know what else grates? When people who should know better use the words "man" or "mankind" for the much more palatable "human" or "humanity." It seems just laziness or spite, if it's not outright hatefulness.
However, there isn't much of a problem with calling a single child "it," unless of course you know what gender it is. It might even be more offensive to assign it an arbitrary gender rather than waiting until one knows.
Also, lackluster cover versions of songs by performers who one knows can do a better job - a much better job - shouldn't be tolerated. The performers know who they are. It's simply irresponsible.
Further consideration of this post's title, which has generated eighty percent of its content, leads one to wonder perhaps if children ever reconsider their options. Would we let them? An acquaintance a few years ago referred to her child as a "little person." Never mind that the term was already in use for people of genetically short stature (there's even an organization called Little People Of America, although their web page hasn't been updated for three years), the acquaintance was attempting to stress to anyone unfortunate enough to be in earshot that her child was a person, damn it, just like grown-ups. Which seemed at the time saddening, since the poor little person probably wasn't getting a childhood as much as a little personhood. All those clinics & classes!
In any event, much like life, nothing has been resolved, nor any light shed on vexing problems. Apologies all around.
However, there isn't much of a problem with calling a single child "it," unless of course you know what gender it is. It might even be more offensive to assign it an arbitrary gender rather than waiting until one knows.
Also, lackluster cover versions of songs by performers who one knows can do a better job - a much better job - shouldn't be tolerated. The performers know who they are. It's simply irresponsible.
Further consideration of this post's title, which has generated eighty percent of its content, leads one to wonder perhaps if children ever reconsider their options. Would we let them? An acquaintance a few years ago referred to her child as a "little person." Never mind that the term was already in use for people of genetically short stature (there's even an organization called Little People Of America, although their web page hasn't been updated for three years), the acquaintance was attempting to stress to anyone unfortunate enough to be in earshot that her child was a person, damn it, just like grown-ups. Which seemed at the time saddening, since the poor little person probably wasn't getting a childhood as much as a little personhood. All those clinics & classes!
In any event, much like life, nothing has been resolved, nor any light shed on vexing problems. Apologies all around.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Whither Dimensions?
The scientifically correct guide to the first ten dimensions:
The first dimension: a dot, I guess.
The second dimension: flatland.
The third dimension: you're soaking in it,
The fourth dimension: time.
The fifth dimension: this is your four dimensions on drugs.
The sixth dimension: doubt.
The seventh dimension: what happens to you after you die.
The eighth dimension: what happens to you after what happens to you after you die.
The ninth dimension: what happens to you after you die, with commentary, deleted scenes & a gag reel.
The tenth dimension: space wars.
The next ten dimensions have not been validated scientifically but they have been color-coded. What really happens in those dimensions is just theory, although there's some guessing, too.
The eleventh dimension (the chartreuse dimension): Like standing in a long line except you're sitting & asleep.
The twelfth dimension (the off-white dimension): The feeling of being a tip jar.
The thirteenth dimension (the burnt umber dimension): In-between floors.
The fourteenth dimension (the other burnt umber dimension): Itchy.
The fifteenth dimension (the cheesecloth dimension): Inappropriate snuggling.
The sixteenth dimension (the holiday blue dimension): Cafeteria food.
The seventeenth dimension (the clear liquid dimension): What's that noise? Is that whining?
The eighteenth dimension (the bright fuchsia dimension): Lake house in a horror film. A very, very cliched horror film.
The nineteenth dimension (the evergreen dimension): No time.
The twentieth dimension (the pale red dimension): Dying FM Radio.
The other dimensions are discussed at great length in Dimension X. For those who can make it, please point your dimensional browsers there at the dimensional link now appearing in front of your computer. Please remember not to feed the computers in Dimension X. See you there.*
* & of course by "see you" I mean with my fifth eye.
The first dimension: a dot, I guess.
The second dimension: flatland.
The third dimension: you're soaking in it,
The fourth dimension: time.
The fifth dimension: this is your four dimensions on drugs.
The sixth dimension: doubt.
The seventh dimension: what happens to you after you die.
The eighth dimension: what happens to you after what happens to you after you die.
The ninth dimension: what happens to you after you die, with commentary, deleted scenes & a gag reel.
The tenth dimension: space wars.
The next ten dimensions have not been validated scientifically but they have been color-coded. What really happens in those dimensions is just theory, although there's some guessing, too.
The eleventh dimension (the chartreuse dimension): Like standing in a long line except you're sitting & asleep.
The twelfth dimension (the off-white dimension): The feeling of being a tip jar.
The thirteenth dimension (the burnt umber dimension): In-between floors.
The fourteenth dimension (the other burnt umber dimension): Itchy.
The fifteenth dimension (the cheesecloth dimension): Inappropriate snuggling.
The sixteenth dimension (the holiday blue dimension): Cafeteria food.
The seventeenth dimension (the clear liquid dimension): What's that noise? Is that whining?
The eighteenth dimension (the bright fuchsia dimension): Lake house in a horror film. A very, very cliched horror film.
The nineteenth dimension (the evergreen dimension): No time.
The twentieth dimension (the pale red dimension): Dying FM Radio.
The other dimensions are discussed at great length in Dimension X. For those who can make it, please point your dimensional browsers there at the dimensional link now appearing in front of your computer. Please remember not to feed the computers in Dimension X. See you there.*
* & of course by "see you" I mean with my fifth eye.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Preface To Dimensions: Another Keen Observation About Those Joke Of The Day Emails
Almost exactly a year ago I talked about - on this here blog - those joke of the day emails one can subscribe to. I have one email account that I check irregularly which is kept nourished by daily infusions of that nonsense. So I read the awful humor, & the one today went something like this:
Some children are taken on a tour of the local police precinct to see what the working atmosphere of a cop is, or something like that. At one point in the tour, the cop shows them the ten most wanted criminals in the standard "wanted" poster format.
One precocious little pickle says to the cop, "Do you want to catch this one?"
Officer McTourguide replies, "Oh yes, he's a hardened criminal."
Says the tot, "Why didn't you just keep him after you took his picture?"
(Cue audience chuckling & going "awwww.")
I felt a weird shock of recognition - I realized something - as I read this, & here's what I discovered: these services are stealing jokes from children's comic books from the forties & fifties. You know, the Archie shit or Little Lotta or Richie Rich or comic versions of Looney Tunes or Walter Lantz or Terrytoons. Those are the kinds of jokes that ended up in the short six-panel one-page filler. Someone at "joke a day" has a stack of them he's had since his childhood - which are handy because he still lives at home - & he just tosses one in every three or four days.
Either that, or he's a big Bazooka Joe fan. You can just see the cop's feet in the air, with an exclamation point above his falling body, as the punchline is spat out.
It could be worse, I know - they could be dirty jokes. Stolen from Hustler magazine. From the 1970s.
Some children are taken on a tour of the local police precinct to see what the working atmosphere of a cop is, or something like that. At one point in the tour, the cop shows them the ten most wanted criminals in the standard "wanted" poster format.
One precocious little pickle says to the cop, "Do you want to catch this one?"
Officer McTourguide replies, "Oh yes, he's a hardened criminal."
Says the tot, "Why didn't you just keep him after you took his picture?"
(Cue audience chuckling & going "awwww.")
I felt a weird shock of recognition - I realized something - as I read this, & here's what I discovered: these services are stealing jokes from children's comic books from the forties & fifties. You know, the Archie shit or Little Lotta or Richie Rich or comic versions of Looney Tunes or Walter Lantz or Terrytoons. Those are the kinds of jokes that ended up in the short six-panel one-page filler. Someone at "joke a day" has a stack of them he's had since his childhood - which are handy because he still lives at home - & he just tosses one in every three or four days.
Either that, or he's a big Bazooka Joe fan. You can just see the cop's feet in the air, with an exclamation point above his falling body, as the punchline is spat out.
It could be worse, I know - they could be dirty jokes. Stolen from Hustler magazine. From the 1970s.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Help! My pants are on fire!
Damn it! All that does is make people think I'm a liar! I'm not lying! My pants are on fire!
Let me take my burning pants off first - since no one wants to help me - there. Ooph. Great. They're ruined. & now I regret going commando today. & lest someone think that my pants caught fire because I told a lie - no. That particular canard, gleaned from a child's bit of taunting doggerel, has no basis in fact. Or else why don't the pants of every politician catch fire during every speech? Aha, you think if they believe what they say, even if it is a lie, for pants-igniting purposes, it may not be enough... Hmm.
Can I borrow your pants? Or would you happen to have a spare? I feel so naked here in the middle of your browser window - mainly because I AM naked in the middle of your browser window. Do you mind if I hide behind a bookmark or something?
Why my pants caught fire as you loaded this page I don't know. I just wanted to tell you that last night's episode of Self Help Radio, called somethingtown, is available for your aural edification at selfhelpradio.net. As an added bonus, the show Sugar Substitute finished the Indiepop Ds for me. That show is there too.
Please close this window now, or reload. I can sneak away during those times.
Let me take my burning pants off first - since no one wants to help me - there. Ooph. Great. They're ruined. & now I regret going commando today. & lest someone think that my pants caught fire because I told a lie - no. That particular canard, gleaned from a child's bit of taunting doggerel, has no basis in fact. Or else why don't the pants of every politician catch fire during every speech? Aha, you think if they believe what they say, even if it is a lie, for pants-igniting purposes, it may not be enough... Hmm.
Can I borrow your pants? Or would you happen to have a spare? I feel so naked here in the middle of your browser window - mainly because I AM naked in the middle of your browser window. Do you mind if I hide behind a bookmark or something?
Why my pants caught fire as you loaded this page I don't know. I just wanted to tell you that last night's episode of Self Help Radio, called somethingtown, is available for your aural edification at selfhelpradio.net. As an added bonus, the show Sugar Substitute finished the Indiepop Ds for me. That show is there too.
Please close this window now, or reload. I can sneak away during those times.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Gargle
I like to say the word "gargle." It's onomatopoeia. But it's not echoic - it's not the noise of gargling that made people call gargling gargling. It comes from the French word for throat.
When I was a kid, if I had to gargle something, I thought the rules were (in the absence of any adult telling me the proper way to gargle) that you had to try to say "gargle" while you gargled. So I naturally swallowed a lot of what I was gargling. I did that a lot when I was a kid - not gargled, but assumed there were certain rules that I followed which I mainly just made up. I think a lot of kids do that.
There'll be no gargling on Self Help Radio today which - you remember - is on 88.1 fm WMUL at 4pm rather than 6pm due to a soccer game being covered live at 7pm. So tune in if you can. This means you, all of Huntington. & some of Barboursville.
When I was a kid, if I had to gargle something, I thought the rules were (in the absence of any adult telling me the proper way to gargle) that you had to try to say "gargle" while you gargled. So I naturally swallowed a lot of what I was gargling. I did that a lot when I was a kid - not gargled, but assumed there were certain rules that I followed which I mainly just made up. I think a lot of kids do that.
There'll be no gargling on Self Help Radio today which - you remember - is on 88.1 fm WMUL at 4pm rather than 6pm due to a soccer game being covered live at 7pm. So tune in if you can. This means you, all of Huntington. & some of Barboursville.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Swingin' Schedules
This only affects you if you live in Huntington, but due to a soccer game being aired on 88.1 fm WMUL tomorrow, Self Help Radio will be truncated to 90 minutes & air two hours earlier, at 4pm. Sugar Substitute will air at 5:30pm, & it's kinda important that it does, as the plan was to have the show - which is an indiepop show, after all - continue the Indiepop A To Z project by finishing the Ds. I so want to finish the Ds. You know?
So if you're in town, be aware. If you're not in town, you know where they'll end up the next day.
Excuse me, I must go read more disappointing news about American politics. I can't help it, I'm a disaster junkie.
So if you're in town, be aware. If you're not in town, you know where they'll end up the next day.
Excuse me, I must go read more disappointing news about American politics. I can't help it, I'm a disaster junkie.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Whither SomethingTown?
You know how you sometimes overexert yourself, most often physically, but sometimes mentally, & then a couple of days later some muscle or some other part of your body (could be your brain or your nerves) rebels & you've got this ache or pain or other condition that causes you to completely derail whatever plans you might have had because suddenly you have to deal with the excessive thing you did that, at the time, didn't cause any apparent discomfort but now, hours & maybe days after you finished it, it completely screws everything up?
Well, yes, it happens to me a lot but it has nothing to do with this week's theme.
This week is just an exploration of some adjective or noun or god forbid an abbreviation in front of the word "town." For example, & I never heard this once in my two decades living there, but imagine it was the hipster thing to do to call Austin "A-Town." Then someone wrote a song about it. Then the song was good, so I played it on my show. That's the idea behind this week's theme.
I specifically looked for that construction - I didn't look for town's nicknames, like "The Big Apple" or "The Armpit Of The Metroplex" (that's the nickname of my hometown of Garland, Texas) (or, if it isn't, it certainly should be) (& by the way, to give credit where it's due, I totally stole that from a Howard the Duck story written by the great Steve Gerber in which he calls Cleveland "the armpit of the universe"), I just looked for descriptions of towns in some way, avoiding more generic parts of towns ("downtown" or "uptown") & also just adding the word town to a named place ("London town" or "Chicago town"). It's very simple & the culling still left me with over seventy songs that I still have to sort out.
Other than that, what's up with you?
Well, yes, it happens to me a lot but it has nothing to do with this week's theme.
This week is just an exploration of some adjective or noun or god forbid an abbreviation in front of the word "town." For example, & I never heard this once in my two decades living there, but imagine it was the hipster thing to do to call Austin "A-Town." Then someone wrote a song about it. Then the song was good, so I played it on my show. That's the idea behind this week's theme.
I specifically looked for that construction - I didn't look for town's nicknames, like "The Big Apple" or "The Armpit Of The Metroplex" (that's the nickname of my hometown of Garland, Texas) (or, if it isn't, it certainly should be) (& by the way, to give credit where it's due, I totally stole that from a Howard the Duck story written by the great Steve Gerber in which he calls Cleveland "the armpit of the universe"), I just looked for descriptions of towns in some way, avoiding more generic parts of towns ("downtown" or "uptown") & also just adding the word town to a named place ("London town" or "Chicago town"). It's very simple & the culling still left me with over seventy songs that I still have to sort out.
Other than that, what's up with you?