Ripple (7)

7. enigma [Hayley]

"I have always been fascinated by what I don't understand."

I wrote that, maybe a week ago, in a journal entry, and it's very true.

Mystery is power.

There are some people in my life that think I'm an enigma. I think that's untrue. Once I'm open, I'm open and fairly uncomplicated. It just takes me a while to get there. Sometimes, though, I miss the power.

enigma

she is a sphinx
holding the answers behind
half hidden smiles

and i am a fool
trying to unlock riddles
by the moonlight

for once the truth is clear
she will vanish

she was never there at all

Hayley

Hayley has provided several links below, but I'd also like to highly recommend her and her sister's awesome radio show, Penguins in the Desert, which airs from 1-4 on Fridays (also embedded in the player on number 2).

1. “I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity. It's something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we're from, everyone loves music.” – Billy Joel

http://TheMusicExperiment.tk

I don't think it's true that everyone loves music, but I see where Billy Joel is coming from. It can definitely be a connector, though.

It was extraordinarily disappointing to me when I made the realization that not everyone in college radio listens, appreciates or loves music. That there are some people who will DJ a music show on the radio and not give a shit about any type of music what so ever. It was a wake up call to me that my deep, passionate love for my favorite bands and for my favorite music wasn't shared, and that it was perhaps one of the most unique things about me and my radio show. It honestly was a bit shocking to me.

I am a music enthusiast, a music appreciator in the fullest sense of these words. It is part of my being - my identity - and has been for quite some time.

2.





Response:

"We live like penguins in the desert, why can't we live like tribes?"

PROMO - Penguins in the Desert [RADIO] - Hayley and Jeri

3. "My mom"

Your mother is a lovely woman.

4.

This was the most amazing night of my life, period. It meant so much more to me than a simple concert. It was everything I needed it to be. I met some amazing people, saw amazing art and heard amazing music. It was a spiritual experience for me.

I've been a fan of Muse since around 2001. Apocalypse Please happens to be one of my favorite songs off of the Absolution CD and as soon as Amanda played the first two chords I KNEW it was this song, though it was completely unexpected (this is the first public performance of this cover). I was glad that the microphone wasn't working, because that meant I was able to record the entire song on the video. It's funny to me because I used to tell people how impressed I was by Muse - how so much sound can come from three people (particularly live while on stage, though now they have a 4th unofficial band member playing loops and such). And when I first really got into the Dresden Dolls I thought the same - how amazing it is that so much sound, so much musical substance can come from only 2 band members.

5. "Poetry is not always words." -Audrey Foris

In 2006 then American Poet Laureate Ted Kooser spoke at my university - he was there to accept the Milton Kessler book award for his book (that actually won the Pulitzer Prize too) called Delights & Shadows. I was in an American Poet Laureate course where I read his book so this was a particularly exciting presentation for me. The President of my university introduced him but in her speech she said something about poetry being soothing and calming. I remember my instructor ranting about how ridiculous her opening was because described poetry in such a closed minded way. Poetry, my instructor said, could be chilling, it could be harsh or unsettling, it could be all-things-not-soothing.

When I went up to the signing table after the reading I told Ted Kooser how much I appreciated his poetry, how I enjoyed his perspective and how he could take observations and descriptions of ordinary things and turn them into poetry. He pays attention and I pay attention and I appreciated that. He responded with a smile and recited a few lines of a poem to me. To this day, I do not remember what those lines were and I tried to google what I remembered of them after I got back to my dorm, but maybe it's for the best that the memory of the moment exists. From my journal, I wrote the gist of the poem he recited to me: "It was basically about the importance of searching for meaning in something (or a poem) that at first glance is easy to ignore." And it really is all about paying attention.

6. “Any dictator would admire the uniformity and obedience of the U.S. media.” – Noam Chomsky

In 2006 Noam Chomsky spoke at my school. It was free and open to the public, the concert hall filled up quickly, even with people standing in the aisles. To accommodate the crowd the organizers opened a second theater and set up a broadcast of his lecture on a project screen but even then I think they had to turn people away. I was fortunate to not only attend, but I was in the theater where the lecture took place and had a pretty decent seat. My only regret is that I wasn't exactly aware of what the lecture was on and I was an undeclared freshman at the time - which means that did not realize I'd spend the next 4 years studying Political Science so I'd probably appreciate it more today after knowing what I now know on the subject. It was fascinating, and intriguing.

As far as the quote, it's amusing but very true. I think the average person would be surprised at how much power and control the media has in America, but what's more surprising is how people blindly follow the media without questioning. They have so much control of American politics and public opinion, it is outstanding.

7. law


8. “Isn’t it ironic… don’t you think?” – Alanis Morissette

I love Alanis Morissette, she is a musician that I respect so much. She was my first concert, my first CD, my first favorite musician, my first role model. I've been a loyal fan for years. When I saw Alanis live in 2002 this song wasn't on her set and I was disappointed about that. I didn't realize until fairly recently why it wasn't played on that tour - because it was one of the songs blacklisted by ClearChannel radio after September 11, 2001 (since the lyrics mention a plane crash). While I was in 8th grade my English teacher quoted this song in her lesson on irony on the chalk board. I raised my hand and pointed out to her that she spelled "Morissette" incorrectly. In 9th grade my English teacher also used this song for her lesson on irony. That time I raised my hand and pointed out how the examples in the lyrics that my teacher used weren't actually ironic, but just bad luck. I wasn't trying to insult the lyrics or even the teacher, but sometimes it's stupid to make a song a cliche, and to do so incorrectly. I love the fact that this song IS ironic in the sense that it's named "Ironic" and has no examples of irony - that's the irony. It was intended to be ironic and isn't. I love that. I've noticed lately that irony keeps popping up in my life (or maybe I am just more aware these days to notice it), and I am entertained by it. I'm embracing the humor of it. Irony usually happens in a sad or frustrating way, and although the ironic things that happen to me and others are not necessarily funny, the mere notice that the irony is present is enough to make me smile.

9. http://www.twinconnections.com/

I am unfazed by any and all twin stereotypes. I've heard them all, I've been asked the same questions over and over again. Sometimes I try to have fun with it. For instance, if you tell me, "I've always wanted a twin!" I will reply, "Here, take mine!"

I'll beat you to the punch - no, we have never switched places. We've only done one "twin thing" in our life and well, it just so happens to have almost 1.5 million views on youtube, was featured on the front pages of abcnews.com and yahoo.com and oh yeah, was showed on Good Morning America and made Diane Sawyer laugh...

http://improveverywhere.com/2008/07/06/human-mirror/



10. fallen souls



This is the first track off of Distorted Lullabies, Ours' debut CD released in 2001 and this video was shot not too long after the album's release. The band's line up has changed considerably since then, but I thought it was important to find a live video where the instrumentation represents the album version the best.

Pay attention at 3 minutes in to the video. At 3:15 you will hear it.
Every time this part comes on I close my eyes, I get chills and I feel a rush of emotion. For those 30 seconds I always stop what I am doing and listen. ALWAYS. Recently I was in the middle of a conversation with someone in the studio during my radio show while I was playing this song and I had to pause and say, "hold on a second - just listen." I cranked up the studio monitors and closed my eyes. I hear more in that vocal melody than I've ever heard spoken, this part of this song speaks to me and I always listen. Those notes mean more to me - the emotion in Jimmy Gnecco's voice are more relatable to me than any lyrics I've ever read/heard.

As a bonus, and I do highly recommend you listen, here's Jimmy playing it again in 2006 at an acoustic performance, his voice is incredible: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XouvaHQAmFQ

Nipple Cripple (6)

Name change as requested by Oscar.

6. Mathangi Arulpragasam [Oscar]

Dear son of M.I.A.,

Sorry for the vague greeting -- all I can find of your name so far from Google is that you are not named Ickit or Pickit.  I can only imagine what your name is -- I hope something strong and useful and not too gimmicky and not too boring.

I've been asked to write about your mother, which may confuse you, because I don't actually know her.  But I think about her a lot.

In a lot of ways, I admire her -- she is creative and revolutionary with her music, fully in control of her image, and doesn't give a fuck about what people think.  She almost delivered you on the stage of the Grammy's for fuck's sake.  And she continues to surprise in an industry that is sadly depleted of surprises.  I can appreciate that.

I can also appreciate that she takes the turmoil that I have inside of being of too many cultures to ever feel fully in one -- she takes that turmoil and she makes music out of it.  That fusion of sounds reminds me that it's not always necessary to choose.

It took me a while to get there, to appreciate her art without bringing myself into conflict about her person.

I spent a lot of my college years deliberately avoiding her music.  See, I was sick of people romanticizing her, of not understanding Sri Lanka beyond what came out of her mouth.  I imagine she'll tell you about your grandfather, who some claim was one of the main engineers behind the suicide bombing techniques of the Tigers.  I wonder, always, what people say about that to their children.  

"Your grandfather worked to free our people," she might say.  "So we no longer had to live under oppression."

Maybe in her eyes, that's truth.  In my eyes, your grandfather aided in killing -- and it doesn't matter which side.  I lost a lot of faith in her when she started raising money for the tsunami and it went to a shady Tiger organization.   If you want to hear what I think about the Tamil Tigers, I'll send that other post about that. 

She has a lot of power in the world, a lot of power considering Sri Lanka.  I hope she uses it for good.  

I use her.  I use people's love for her and people's fascination for her and every time she comes up in conversation I make sure people know the other side of the conversation, that the Tigers are not as romantic as their name and the flashy graphics would suggest.

And that's why I still listen to her.  Because as much angst as she causes me sometimes, she allows me to have a platform for conversation and debate and education.  And for that, I'm truly thankful to her and her music.  

This is a lot of heavy shit for a newborn.  I hope by the time you're able to read this, this will be history, your mother will be selling lots and lots of records, and your world will be a lot more peaceful than ours.

Oscar

Oscar would like you to meet some of his fascinating kin here.

1. Nils Olaf II [original prompt: Norway Knights Penguin]

Nils Olaf II is a Colonel-in-Chief of the Norwegian King Harald II’s Royal Guard. He just so happens to be a penguin, too. How a penguin – being the poorest, dumbest animal God created – came to this lofty position is for Wikipedia to inform. To me, Nils is a prime example of the ridiculous fantasy realm of Norway that swims about my mind. It is a land of self-infantilising lolitas, hysterical sluts, gangster rappers who read Ibsen, and dour military historians who towel off in slow motion. A refuge and stronghold that is always just on the wrong side of tangibility. This fascination has been perpetuated by my love of Norwegian folklore, re-readings of Ibsen and Hamsun, charismatic Norwegian rock bands, and my unfailing belief that Norway truly is culturally twenty years behind the rest of the world. To me, Toto are still in the charts over there. If it weren’t for the cost of living, I’d be there in a heartbeat.

2. serial killers

Albert Fish stuck pins in his scrotum and caused a blackout when he went to the chair. Ted Bundy received numerous marriage proposals… after convicted. John Wayne Gacy was never employed as a clown in any capacity. He merely liked to dress as a clown and would throw parties for the neighbourhood. A few months back, I wrote to Charles Manson, asking him advice on whether I should drop out of University. I’ve yet to receive a reply, but I hear it takes a while. I’ve moved houses since then. I’m secretly wishing the new tenant at my old address opens my mail. I’ve recently been listening again to Manson’s record he recorded. It’s not his best work.

3. jelly

As in, wibbly wobbly and eat with ice cream. Don’t use fresh pineapple in jelly. Such a thing would be folly. contains a proteolytic enzyme bromelain, which breaks down protein. This interferes with the gelatine. I don’t know much about jelly, but I seem to know an awful lot about pineapples.

4. silversmithing

I might not know a whole lot about the history of the British silversmithing industry, but I probably know more than you do. This uncanny ability to know a little about a lot has led me to a life of being rather well fed on other people’s money. Growing up, I had a thirst for knowledge, always ready to ask “Why?” to the chagrin of others. Years of accumulating a knowledge of the esoteric and delightfully mundane resulted in a veritable stockpile of anecdotal ammunition, generally captivating, in part thanks to a hereditary charisma and flair for the theatrical. I once found my restaurant meal on the house, as the owner was mesmerised by my hand gestures. Upon landing in distant lands, with very little money to my name, I soon found that there was a multitude of men and women in their mid-twenties through to older decades who would delight in taking me to dinner. They’d pay the bill, and I’d drink the wine. Acquaintances would soon come to call it “prostitution”, though I preferred to call myself a raconteur. Indeed, I even indulged in after-dinner speeches; my most lengthy running just shy of four hours. My name became a verb, my stories become real stories – a great storyteller will pick up on those tiny glimmers of gold in an experience, decontextualise and recreate in an oft-fantastical vision, focussing on the fascinating rather than the wholly accurate. It’s this glamour - facilitated by charm - that can keep a young man alive… to an extent.

5. Self-Portrait of the Artist, aged 10

I was a rather mundane little thing; in some respects I still think this is the case. At the age of ten, or there about, I moved counties, lost all my friends, started anew. Losing what you have and starting from scratch is a liberating and cathartic experience; one I’ve encountered more than once, since. It enables one to assume a new persona, a new character, and play it out with conviction, as long as you have the wit to do so. At age ten I became the public school educated, cold, austere buffoon. “Precocious” would be a fitting description, though certainly I could always have been labelled as such. Donning mask after mask can result in an easy route into legend, into a cult of personality. It also brings great detachment, which itself has its pluses, as well as its obvious minuses. Age ten was the leap into a decade (and then some) of acting. Acting the fool, really. A holy fool, perhaps a Shakespearean fool. A knowing trickster, certainly. Worlds can come crashing down, if one lets them. Sometimes it helps, in a masochistic way, to allow someone to unravel the web of intrigue, and face it (or them) head on. Subversion can become impeccably dull, if it simply becomes de rigueur and without any real purpose other than fun. That’s where I fall short: I’m not a real trickster. I’m human, you see. Hermes I am not. Hermes is something to aspire to, though.

… Hermes was the god of thieves, traders, businessmen, liars, wit, literature, athletics, rhetoric, the misleading sentence, travel, messenger to the Olympians and guide to the dead. He was the interpreter of hidden meaning.

He fascinated me, so did similar deities such as the Egyptian Thoth or the Norse Loki (a great equaliser). It was Hermes role as trickster that really grabbed my attention.

The trickster is oft portrayed as an opponent to the hero, but to me the trickster IS the hero. He is the deceiver, trick player, and situation inverter. Transformation, travelling, high deeds, and power. The trickster is a boundary-crosser.

The trickster crosses both physical and social boundaries-- the trickster is often a traveller, and he often breaks societal rules. Tricksters cross lines, breaking or blurring connections and distinctions between "right and wrong, sacred and profane, clean and dirty, male and female, young and old, living and dead". The trickster often changes shape to cross between worlds. In his role as boundary-crosser, the trickster sometimes becomes the messenger of the gods.

The role of the clown as the sacred and lewd bricoleur is very important to me. The paradox between laughter and sanctity is one that enthrals me. But it really is so crucial. Laughter opens you up from rigid preconceptions. You can forget the sanctity through upset, surprise or piety. It was the clown’s job to cross this boundary and bring people closer to god. A messenger, of sorts.

The trickster represents a certain flexibility of mind and spirit, a willingness to defy authority and invent clever solutions that keeps cultures (and stories) from becoming too stagnant.

But trickster stories also have something to say about how culture gets created, and about the nature of intelligence.

The old myths say that the trickster made the world as we actually find it. Other gods set out to create a world more perfect and ideal, but this world––with its complexity and ambiguity, its beauty and its dirt––was the trickster's creation, and the work, my friend, is not yet finished

There are no absolute truths, just different perspectives, and so the association and juxtaposition of ideas across subjects is thus one of the most valuable tasks we can perform.

6. charm [original prompt: "Charm is a way of getting the answer yes without asking a clear question." - Albert Camus]

I believe that charm can be a learned art. And an art it is. As the name suggest, it is a spell you cast over others. It is a transient experience, easily dispelled at the first falter. I never seemed to knowingly learn it, and it has been with me since I can remember. Going by my ancestry, I’d make the assumption that I was born with it. As such I don’t find it particularly draining, as I’m barely aware of what I’m doing. I don’t fully understand it, either. Why anyone would find me, a bastard to the core, charming is beyond me. Especially when I often go out of my way to enforce the fact that I am, indeed, a right cunt, only looking out for myself. I’ve been known to charm people who are simply eavesdropping into a conversation I am having. As previously stated, I’ve mesmerised people with mere hand gestures. Some part of this I put down more to the fact that I am unusual – my accent, appearance, history and presentation are all not quite ordinary. My knowing bastardry usually stays on the well, charming, side of roguish. It’s something I have felt a necessary to perpetuate, lest I become hungry again.

7. priesthood

My religious beliefs lay somewhere between Ignatius of Loyola, Shahab al-Din Suhrawardi, Seraphim Rose and Bertrand Russell. Raised by Jesuits and sired by a devout Atheist, I naturally became fascinated by both Islamic and Western Esotericism. At one point I was going to become a priest. Then again, at different points I was going to become a lawyer and a doctor. A family tradition. All of these fell by the wayside as I found myself increasingly jaded by the world around me.

The piece of writing that had the most profound effect on me would be Henri Corbin’s essay on the Mundus Imaginalis. This key can be found here: http://www.hermetic.com/bey/mundus_imaginalis.htm

8. insecurity



9. Self-Portrait of an Artist, aged 30

Dans une vie anterieure, j'etais professeur de la psychologie anormale, et j'etais institutionnalise a cause d'avoir trop identifie avec mes patients. Le plus je les voyais, le moins bourgeoises et plus "nuancees" mes idees devenaient.

Ceci alarmait mes collegues, qui me traitaient donc de "boheme, anarchiste, schizophrene, et sociopathe, tout a fait incapable de pratiquer la medecine professionnelle."

further,

il paraissait insatisfait, et disait : "alors vous pouviez pas me donner votre parole que vous ne tenez pas aux corps astraux et tout ça ?"

"je pourrais," disait margaret, surprise que cela lui importait. "en effet, je le ferai. quand je parlais de laver mon aura, ce n'était que pour rire. mais pourquoi voulez-vous que tout ça soit arrangé ?"

"je ne sais pas."

"allons, mr. wilcox, vous le savez bien."

My memoirs by that point shall most likely be titled “On The Dreariness of Being Somebody.”

Here’s to that Hell.

Oh, either that or I’ll be in the circus. That was my childhood dream. Still is.

Ripple (5)

5. The Tamil Tigers [Rob]

For background:

Sri Lankan Civil War wiki article

Sri Lanka faces war 'catastrophe' - latest BBC article

I've been asked a lot about Sri Lanka recently, which makes sense, seeing as the war there (which has been happening for about 25 years) is reaching a crescendo and is finally hitting even American news, which is usually almost criminally inattentive to world news.

You can, of course, read the links above for all of the facts (very often biased towards one side or another) of what is going on, and do your own Google searching.  I'll be happy to answer any comments/questions to the best of my ability if you leave them up here, or even debate with you, as I'm trying not to make this entry too too long.  

But this blog is not about facts.

I've been trying to remember the first time I was aware of the Tamil Tigers' existence. It was always spoken about in my family, and I remember going to rallies in front of the White House even when I was very little, but the base of those memories for me was more the excitement of a trip or the fact that my mom made different foods to take.

 The clearest memory I have is the day before I turned 13.  I was in Sri Lanka for the summer.  We were at my grandmother's house when we heard a dull boom.  The power was being cut somewhere around 8 at night those days, and so it was eerie, this noise, coming through candlelit night.

We found out it was a train bombing soon enough, and my mother worried if one of my cousins was on the train, coming from work.  It turned out that, although in total 86 people died, my cousin was OK, and the only relative that was injured was a distant uncle who lost a leg.  It's a weird thing to be thankful that all that was lost was a leg.

A few years later, I would meet and become very good friends with a boy who lost both his mother and sister in that bombing.  

I think the Tamil Tigers, at the head, are terrorists.  They go after civilians, regardless whether they are Sinhalese (the majority ethnic group) or Tamil.  Right now, as the SL military is pushing ahead, there are Tamil civilians (70,000-250,000 depending on who you are asking) who are trapped in Tiger territory.  Apparently as these Tamils are trying to flee the site of fighting, to government designated safe areas (which, admittedly, may be no better than concentration camps), they are getting shot at.  The Tigers know that if they don't have a civilian shield, they will get defeated.

I feel the most for Tamil civilians in all of this.  The Tigers claim to be fighting for them, but now this has all become a power struggle where innocent people are damned.  Even people who end up becoming suicide bombers -- they are pawns.  Poverty-stricken, brainwashed, hopeless, with no alternatives, they kill themselves in the hopes of... what?  An escape?  A cause they don't quite understand?  Reverence?  What sort of desperation brings you to kill others with your own  body?

But the head of the Tamil Tigers, mainly Vellupi Prabhakaran, a basically uneducated guy who became the leader -- I have little sympathy for him and those directly under him.  He is the brainwasher, the one in power, the coward who sends others off to die.   

The pacifist in me has trouble with wanting someone to die.  I'd like to see him captured, to let the world see his face and understand how much misery he has brought what was once paradise.  But it is unlikely he will be captured alive.  

I hope with all of my heart that this war is over soon.  I hope the North can be rebuilt, that the Sinhalese and Tamils can live together without resentment of each other, and when I have my own children, I can take them up there without risking being shot.  I've been told it was a beautiful place.

Rob

In lieu of a link, Rob asked me to share this Rumi excerpt with you:

Don't worry about saving these songs!

And if one of our instruments breaks;

it doesn't matter.

We have fallen into the place

where everything is music.

1. Yes Yes – Charles Bukowski

when God created love He didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
when God created me He created me
when God created the monkey He was asleep
when He created the giraffe He was drunk
when He created narcotics He was high
and when He created suicide He was low

when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time

He made some mistakes
but when He created you lying in bed
He came all over His Blessed Universe.

A Bukowski love poem is a strange thing indeed. Irreverent in everything he did; romance was no exception. Both his fear of and his desire for intimacy are evident in his writing. One other thing is also clear though…He did know…and have love.

Many people may see blasphemy here, or at least expect me to see it. I don’t. I see a man, trying to explain…trying to articulate with his set of circumstances and his tools, a point of view that is common to all men and foreign to most.

2. “We've been very arrogant in assuming that there's a sharp line dividing us from the rest of the animal kingdom. We are not the only beings on this planet with personalities, minds, and, above all, emotions. We need to be more respectful.” – Jane Goodall

While I do agree with Dr. Goodall’s conclusion, I believe that our “arrogance” is well founded. In fact, the very reason for that arrogance should be what brings us into a deeper respect for our surroundings- both entities with personalities, minds, and emotions and entities without those traits. The sharp line does exist, but not where many believe. It’s not a physical or mental line. The sharp line divides the soul from the spirit. The fact that my creator endowed me with the awesome power and responsibility that come with the knowledge of good and evil inspires me to be a good steward of all that He has entrusted to me.

3. cracker

The year…1995. The setting…South Central.

Early one Saturday morning, my Uncle Ron and I were on our way to the Promise Keepers’ Conference being held at the L.A. Coliseum. Having some time to kill and a couple of empty stomachs, I suggested we walk down Figueroa to find a place for some breakfast. My Uncle felt a little unsure about the idea, especially since I was sporting my Cracker Kerosene Hat tour tee shirt. I had thought nothing of it until he mentioned it, and didn’t think much of it afterwards either. So, we set off in search of Biscuits and gravy. We came upon a place with a sign out front that had something to do with Southern home cooking or something like that and went inside. As expected, we were the only two in the place with complexions lighter than coffee and cream. Once again, this seemed to ruffle my Uncle just a little bit. We grabbed a booth and ordered our food. The details of the conversation that morning are lost to me now, but I remember asking my Uncle if he was scared about something (it was in no way related to our choice of venue). The waitress walked up to refresh our coffee just in time to here my query. She looked at my Uncle With the kindest of eyes and said, Ah, honey…don’t be scared…”

4. liberal

I was one once. The residue remains. I think that’s okay.

5. Sheena was a Punk Rocker

Well the kids are all hopped up and ready to go
They're ready to go now
They've got their surfboards
And they're going to the discotheque a go go
But she just couldn't stay
She had to break away
Well New York City really has it all
Oh yeah, oh yeah

For the longest time, I have wanted to be a Ramone! Pure and raw, the Ramones embody everything that is Rock ‘n’ Roll. Loud and fast, they made up for their lack of skill with outright will. Down and dirty they never cared much about image. Music was it for the Ramones. Dee Dee wanted to be a rock star, Joey wanted to be a pop star and Johnny was just to cool to care about anything but being cool while Tommy- then Marky sat in back and pounded out the fastest rhythms ever imagined. The Ramones ushered my generation and all that have followed into an era of music where everyone is cool enough to be whatever they want to be.





6. Amanda Palmer in your living room [Ripple's note: This list was created at the end of December, and I will be asking for a follow up]


Sometimes, truth really is stranger than fiction. I will have to write a follow up to this one at the end of next month. Thanks to the best friends I never met.

7.
7 
Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

The Onion is my kind of humor!

Also

[Ripple's note: Rob actually got a different video when he clicked than the one above, so this part no longer makes sense.  However, he maintains the first and second parts of his answer are universally true.]

Also

Jennifer Love Hewitt has a huge head

8. quesadilla

The first quesadilla I ever experienced (and it was an experience [life changing even]) was made for me by my Aunt Sue. We were camping in Idyllwild and she asked if we wanted one. Once she explained what it was, I spent a moment wondering why I hadn’t thought of that before. Of course I would like one…or several…thousand.

Aunt Sue made them with Corn Tortillas, Jack cheese and Ortega chiles. They were everything I imagined them to be and more. Needless to say, I have had several thousand since that day twenty-some years ago. I have had them with steak, with chicken, with mushrooms, with all kinds of cheeses with all kinds of sauces and salsas and other condiments, but I can still taste the first one, the one Aunt Sue cooked for me so long ago in the mountains.

9. Presbysterian vs. Catholic Church Sign Debate (Ripple's note: regarding the Snopes link -- I already knew that, so there.)

http://www.snopes.com/photos/signs/dogheaven.asp

As far as what side of the debate I’m on, I’m not. It’s not for me to worry about.

10. winter sports

Until about 5 years ago, winter sports were something I watched on television. Downhill skiing and ski jumping have always held my attention. More recently, Freestyle snowboarding and boarder x have entered my winter sports portfolio.

Since that fateful day in 2004 when my brother asked me if I wanted to go to his place in Montana and try snowboarding, I have been a fiend. If I’m not riding, I’m thinking about my next trip. If it’s snowing, I wonder how much will fall. If it’s not snowing, I wonder when it will. I m jonesing as I type now.

I have been back from our annual boys’ week in Montana for exactly one month, and I can’t stand it. I stare at the San Gabriel Mountains- home of Snow Summit- towering over the desert every day. They mock me and I curse them. Yet, my love for the sport will not let me hold a grudge. The slopes call to me…to something deep inside that only the rush of the wind in my hair and the snow under my board can understand. They call me to something that only the freedom of free riding can satisfy.

Here is a video of a few friends, my brother and myself shredding some powder in big sky a few years ago. I am in the first two shots, and the last two shots.

http://www.facebook.com/v/1021425495276

Liz E

Liz E is the vocalist of Freezepop. She totally sent this to me a month ago, and I missed it because I thought my mail from that account was getting forwarded to a different account. It was not. Also, in the meantime, two of the youtube videos I sent her both got taken down (and I don't even remember what they were). I left the links and responses in for truth. Listen to Freezepop's awesome dance/electronic/fun music here. (or you know, Guitar Hero/Rock Band/etc.)

1. sprøde




















2. Boston

home

3. sushi

i like avocado sushi a whole lot.

4. party like it's 1999

i already did that, in 1999.

5. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ER0sP9mcdo

uh, somebody took the video down.

6. hipster

these kids sure do like bandanas nowadays. and beards.

7. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-82VOldeRE

they took this one down too! WMG is cracking down!

8. http://www.monochrom.at/cracked/music/3electronica.htm

i don't have any of those albums.

9.

that looks so simple, even i could play it! maybe.

10. 2030 videogames

i'll still be playing colecovision smurfs.

lashingoutloud

This one is a short one (and hopefully a placeholder for more) to remind people that the site still exists. Lashingoutloud sent me these a while back and agreed that I could post just these responses until she was done with the rest.

1. brother

All of my friends had brothers who would protect them. I had a brother whose maturity level I passed at seven.

2. "But for now we are young/Let us lay in the sun/And count every beautiful thing we can see" - "In an Aeroplane Over the Sea", Neutral Milk Hotel

I had a boy in my life who could play this song on the guitar. I was drunk and he was drunk, and we sat on an air mattress drunk and giggling in his roommate's bedroom and I tried to remember the lyrics while he strummed an out-of-tune guitar. It was one of those "so imperfect that it was perfect" moments. We were young. It was beautiful. I count it.

3. high school

I was called a lot of things in high school. Fat, ugly, fat, fat, fat, ugly. Maybe I was just called a few things a lot of times. This is why I’m as frustrating as I am. I look in a mirror and see “ugly fat ugly fat.” I date a boy and assume he sees “ugly fat ugly fat.” I’m insecure and it is an indirect result of high school. I sat alone at lunch. I spent my freshman year of high school never eating in front of anyone and then going home to indulge in Smartfood and Cheetos. Eat and sleep. Eat and sleep. Not until the end of high school did I give a shit about my body – and that was a direct result to what people were saying. I stopped eating 2 family sized bags of Doritos a day – I walked a little more and napped a little less. I made friends (some of whom I still have today). This is all because of my insecurities. I was too insecure to be alone anymore.