Author: Thom

I’m still trying to work through possibly the funniest MetaFilter thread ever. Basically they all went nuts trying to list every spoiler they could remember. Some of the highlights include (look away if you’re afraid of anything being ruined):

Jesus gets tacked up. But he gets over it.

The chick has a dick.

NEO AND TRINITY BOTH FUCKING DIE

Of course, the punchline is that Klinger winds up staying in Korea after everyone else leaves, because he likes it there after all.

I know, go figure.

Kelly, Ozone, and Turbo save the community center.

It turns out the Sheriff is Black.

Godot never arrives.

Its all in the reflexes. He idiotically refuses the advance of the totally hot green eyed babe. The demon is still alive on the back of his truck in the driving rain storm.

He destroys the Ministry of Information with the help of the rogue Air Conditioning Repair Man and escapes with the woman of his dreams.

In reality, he’s being tortued by a fellow Ministry of Information employee donning a baby mask.

Slim Whitman’s singing makes the aliens’ heads explode.

Truly, he was the Son of God.

One of the more interesting takes on an ending (and at least a tad obscure):

… but I still can’t believe that he would give the hard won diamond earrings to the passive-aggressive tomboy Watts instead of the sweet perky redhead Amanda.

And of course one of the all time classics:

Senator and Mrs. Blutarsky, Washington, D.C.

If you get all of those references – bully for you!

(thanks to A Whole Lotta Nothing)

I haven’t been a big baseball fan for years. I used to love the game as a kid, but then way too many super-inflated egos, batters’ timeouts, exorbitant salaries, etc. made me lose interest. Does it really take 162 games a year to figure out who should be in the playoffs? But the last few years have offered some exciting championship games and, most importantly, the Yankees not winning the World Series.

I’m from Philly, and I love my home town. I’m an enthusiastic fan of its teams, and they will always be mine no matter where I live. But having been in the New York area for years now the passion for my own teams has almost been eclipsed by my hatred for New York teams. Every franchise has lousy fans, but there are none quite so arrogant and irritating as the “we deserve to win” mentality of the typical fan up here. And it is exhibited most heavily by the Yankees fans. These are people who think every good player should be on their team and that only they should be allowed to win the World Series. This is a city whose former mayor ignored a major deficit in an attempt to push a new stadium through for his favorite team.

I’m just rambling, but my point is that I detest the teams up here (well, I tolerate the Mets and the Jets, since they are the forgotten) and love to see their fans suffer through defeats. And these feelings are compounded by the media constantly attempting to spin stories to make these guys look like saints who are up against the dregs of society. Sure the Red Sox may be rough around the edges, but what can you say in defense of a team who felt that anyone who refused to abandon their families in the middle of a hurricane to play a game should be forced to forfeit? They may pretend to be classy, but the Yanks are anything but.

From wence did this tirade come? Watching a bit of the game tonight I saw one of the most deplorable play in baseball. After smacking a short grounder down the first base line, Alex Rodriguez tried to beat out the ball. The pitcher picked up the dribbler and, quickly realizinf that he was in the best position to make the play, moved to tag him out. At that point, Rodriguez, showing the finest of sportsmanship, smacked the pitcher’s arm in order to knock the ball out and allow Jeter to run home. The officials convened and ruled Rodriguez out and sent Jeter back to first – a decision that was met with litter from the stands. Now place this in any other city (especially Philly or Boston) and the media would berate the fans. But in New York, that’s suddenly passion.

It will largely be ignored, or spun to make it seem like the Yanks were cheated. But in the end it doesn’t matter – the great Alex Rodriguez is the one who cheated, and now the Yankees are one out away from dropping three games in a row and going from a possible sweep to a deadly game seven in Boston.

Believe it or not, but Lisa and I have been back home for about an hour. We pulled into the driveway around ten to five in the AM. What a very difficult journey home it’s been. The vacation was awesome. I got to spend time with my Slattery cousins (they being the children of my dad’s kid brother Shaun) and their spouses. We saw parts of Chapel Hill, Raleigh, Charlotte, Asheville, and the Appalachians. There was lots of walking and hiking and shopping and sightseeing and eating and… there was lots of things done. But I’ll get to all of that later when I have the time and can post photos.

As for the drive home… well, it started out nice enough. We took our time this morning as we left earlier than we could have hoped. So that left us with time to explore the sights of the Blue Ridge Parkway more and slowly make our way north. Unfortunately, our first attempt to connect to an Interstate failed when we spent an hour traveling on the absolute most windy and treacherous road I’ve ever seen. That left us stuck on the Parkway with a maximum attainable speed of 50 MPH. Once we finally started making some real headway in Virginia, the wonderful authorities there decided not to mark a 7 mile backup due to an accident. After missing a possible exit that would have only had us backpedal 30 minutes max, the next 2 hours were spent crawling, and sometimes parking, due to a tractor trailer mishap. Thank you very much Virginia. Then we managed to hit 3 24-hour gas stations in Pennsylvania that were all closed, which almost sent us into a panic as both of our cell phones were dead!

Somehow we pulled through this mess, and now I will finally head to my own bed to get some real sleep. Good night… er… morning.

I had hoped to say more before leaving, but it’s 8:32 AM and Lisa and I were supposed to be on the road 2 minutes ago! This is way better timing than pretty much any endeavor of mine, so I’m not that concerned. Anywho, we’re heading down to North Carolina for a week, where we’ll be visiting some cousins of mine and doing a little hiking. I’m hoping to get some great nature shots (since a lot of my pictures at the Rodeo/Ristra Farewell yesterday did not come out as well as I had hoped). See you guys on the flip side.

Dooce has become quite the Internet celebrity, and with very good reason. Sure, she got known for having been fired from her job for her blog, but more importantly SHE’S FUN TO READ. I actually enjoy her entries. It’s a pleasure to read about her life, her marriage, her dog, her precious Leta and even her boobs and poop. She is both funny and touching, as evident with her monthly newsletters to her child. If you need a good reason to bother checking out another site, try starting with this humorous entry. If that doesn’t have you in stitches by the end, I’ll give you your money back.

You are Rosy Perfection Salad!! Though your name
may be innocent and cheerful, your jello-sweet
exterior hides a foul, sinister core.

What Weight Watchers recipe card from 1974 are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I’ve seen this in too many places… so nobody gets the credit! Besides, that’s just nasty.

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

(Thanks to Sandy)

Back in early 2001, my friend Sandy invited me to the Rodeo/Ristra as she was helping out with an open mic that was being started there. A small NJ-based art/theater magazine called Hipnosis was going to be running it in conjunction with the bar. It would be the successor to the previous weekly event that had run at the Liquid Lounge for years, until it closed down that week. That first night was a blast, starting with Eugene (my introduction to their music), filled with all sorts of participants, and trailing off with a rousing singalong of “Piano Man”. I was instantly hooked, and barely missed one for the next year or so. Even with my infrequent visits in recent times, I’ve still probably been to at least two-thirds of all of them.

The OpenMic has undergone several changes over those years. The split with Hipnosis, the departure of Open Mike, the rotation of MCs, and even policy and schedule changes. I now talk to people who are regulars, yet never even heard of Guy or knew that Joseph and Javier were the orignal bartenders those nights (that’s right, they used to open the bar downstairs, too). The featured band used to play first and that was it. Every night ended in some sort of jam or singalong. I even remember getting dinner there before OpenMics or ordering fries at the bar when I got hungry. People don’t realize that in the begining this was all we had. There was no Monochrome Mondays, Sundays were a goth night, and live music was just being thought of for Wednesdays. The times certainly have changed, and some of us have seen it all.

It’s been an odd feeling since Lisa and I left Hoboken. Almost a sense of estrangement from our old crowd. The Art & Music Fest was a good chance for us to reunite and realize how busy each others’ lives really have become. It was a perfectly cathartic event for all involved, and reminded us of what a big part of our lives this has been.

The reason I bring this up now is that a major shift is under way. The Ristra is changing itself once again, and this time there is no room for our scene. Ivy is wisely leaving, and will be reconvening all events in the back room of The Shannon Lounge. That means that tonight is the final night of the OpenMic at the Ristra. And while the scene will continue to survive as it shifts around town, there’s definitely a sad feeling about leaving a venue where I’ve spent so much of the last three and a half years of my life. A place where I’ve met so many friends… most importantly, where I met Lisa.

Nevertheless, life marches on. Lisa and I will probably be making an appearance tonight. 13 Hands is the featured act, and I can’t help but find something funny in that. You see, back in 2000 I wrote 2 CD reviews for Hipnosis before the relationship went sour. One was for Eugene’s Who’s Eugene?, and the other was for 13 Hands. I also only saw him perform once, at Hipnosis’s one and only show in Montclair, held in the high school’s ampitheather about 2 blocks from where we now live. Man are things really coming full circle.

Sunday is the big farewell, however. Starting at 3 in the afternoon, more than a dozen bands (including pretty much every band that’s been a major part of this Hoboken scene) will be saying goodbye. Lisa and I delayed our vacation plans a couple days so that we can be there. I’m looking forward to it all. I mean, it feels weird, but that’s not necessarily bad.

I was sick yesterday. At least I think I was. I have a vague memory of shivering in bed going through hot and cold flashes with Lisa making me soup. But now that’s all gone. I guess I should be grateful, but it’s all somewhat unsettling.

I woke up yesterday with a slight tummy ache (yes, I’m using the word tummy). So I limited my eating to some yogurt in the morning. As the day wore on I started to feel weak and achey. Lunch was cut down to some chicken nuggets from Wendy’s. I just didn’t trust my stomach to deal with anything more – especially after my experience earlier this year. Nevertheless, I slowly made it through the day and decided to take it easy once I got home. Of course once I got home I really started to feel like crap, and quickly crashed on the bed.

Lisa was stuck in Hoboken for awhile because of all the train problems, but once she finally got home it was all homemade soup and tea for me. I couldn’t decide whether I was too hot or too cold, but she everytime she touched my back she could feel how bad my fever was. So I was bedridden for the night, but swore that I would be able to make it to work today. And what do you know… here I am. Although my stomach is still a little uneasy, all of the other symptoms (most importanly the fever) pretty much all vanished by the morning. Very odd indeed – I don’t think that even counted as 24-hours.

Good thing I came in, too. I picked up the company Costco card (yeah, we have one… for the whole company… both facilities), so that Lisa and I can do some major shopping tomorrow. If anyone else is interested, let me know.

And the slow death of radio continues. Yesterday, Scott Muni passed away. For those unfamiliar, Muni was a radio legend who had worked as a DJ in New York for almost 50 years. He was responsible for the success of many bands, and a major player in Rock ‘n’ Roll history. His tribute show to John Lennon is regularly replayed on the anniversary of the late Beatle’s death.

Q104.3 (his last home) is one of the few stations I actually listen to. I can’t help but feel like this is the final nail in the coffin for the radio format. He was one of the last of his kind and, let’s face it, that medium will never produce the likes of him again.

We have lost our common culture. We no longer weep at deaths because those people touched us, so much as we merely recognize their names. In an effort to appease everybody and give them all their own little niche, we continue to isolate ourselves from the ties that bind.

I found a good article on the death of AM radio over at Musicradio.