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Calendar

Ongoing:
Ansel Adams at 100
(SF MOMA)

featured blog:

Top Searches/ Fave Links:
Hash-heads, Heartache and Hope (a fantastic essay by Patrick Hughes)
Bill Hangley meets George Bush
Gorgeous Guy @ 4th & Market
Icy Hot Stuntaz
PortaBush
Hyakugojyuuichu
Hamotam
Watt/ Mascis wreck photos
That Bitch Stole my HTML
I'm a Cow
Road to Springfield

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::e m p t y a g e:: i'm not scared

friday, november 30

I just wanna have fun (more like thathere)
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It's Friday, and you're looking for a way to kill time at work. Today's my last day, and I'm really busy boxing things up and burning CDs and, er, doing junk. But I haven't forgotten your plight, gentle reader. God forbid you acctually ahve to do some work. So please allow me to present an old classic good for hours of time-suckage.
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Say goodbye to civil liberties and free speech and hello to the poster police. (thanks jumbo!)
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A cautionary tale from another war / S.F. man convicted of sabotage in secret military trial. This article on a military tribunal in 1942 has lessons relevant to the current tribunals.
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thursday, november 29

For some reason, I haven't been as excited about Flash since 09/11. I'm not sure if that's because I haven't had the appetite for it since then, or because my efforts at Flash have proved so dismal. But this changed my mind, a tres cool video on the erosion of our liberties by the same company that pays this character. (via harp)
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I posted my November search request referrals. As usualy there's some funny stuff. There's the by-now-standard "tatoo removal" and "enda krabappel nude" stuff. But I'm proud to say that I seem to have cornered the sick fuck pervert market as well. I'm not even gonna repeat what some of them were b/c I, quite honestly, don't *want* those referrals. But peruse at your leisure. Highly entertaining.
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Rob's entries keep getting funnier. This one brought tears to my eyes.
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Today's my second to last day at work. so I was really amazed to see that when I plugged my nombre into The Carlos Work Nickname Generator it told me my nickname is "just one more, and then I'm going home." Eerie.
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An email exchange between Brad, Andy and me:
Mat wrote:
Do you think Bush will bail Enron out?
Bah, fuck Enron. Somebody should bail out
Excite@Home so my cable connection doesn't
die tomorrow.
-- Andy.
At 09:25 AM 11/29/2001 -0800, Mat wrote:
>My mom Harper's parents are both excite @ home users.... What the
>hell will you do if it ends? Do you have a backup plan?
At 9:24 AM -0800 11/29/01, Andy wrote:
Adelphia, my cable provider, is planning on
switching over on December 3, so hopefully I
won't have too much downtime.
Other people won't be so lucky, and will
likely have to switch over to DSL, if possible.
Or (gasp!) there's always dialup.
To: "'stunninglingus@yahoogroups.com'"
From: "Brad "
Subject: RE: stunninglingus- Excite@home (WAS Enron)
Hey... if it helps... I got this CD in the mail from AOL. Turns out you can get like 1,000 hours for FREE!
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Our stairs are dangerously unsafe. This article scares the piss out of me.
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Genetically modified food, I've given up worrying about it and filed it under my "inevitable" category along with treasonous graft-prone Republicans and boy bands (both of which, come to think of it, are closely related). Fuck it, pass the fishberries. I'm ready to dig in. Because, you know, with all the other things in the world to worry about--John Ashcroft and Bush eliminating the Bill of Rights, for example--who really gives a damn about health? Besides, The Companies and The FDA (a captive regulatory agency if ever there was one) have assured us that GMO food is perfectly safe. They've said it again and again, "it's safe."
"Well have you tested it to make sure that it is safe?"
"No, but don't worry about that, it's safe."
"What about all those independent studies, which are essentially the only testing htat's been done to determine if it's safe or not, that have all concluded that it isn't safe?"
"All done by wackos. It's safe."
"The folks at Lancet are Wackos? Lancet?"
"Most assuredly wackos. Who knows best, scientists, or businessmen? It's safe."
And so you accept that it's safe, or you at least delude yourself into not worrying about it and you thank God that it can't jump species, that GM organisms are restrained and can't get out into the wild. How do we know that? Well, because Monsanto and ADM and all the rest assure us that it is so. Just as they assure us that the food is safe, just as passionately and with even more gravitas, they tell us that the crops can't jump species. But there's just one problem: they can. Are you ready to start freaking out? No? Are you sure? Of course you're sure. Why?
"It's safe."
I'm sure it is.
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wednesday, november 28

I'm digging through my search requests today. I've gotten tons for Taliban telemarketers. I had no idea what the hell it was, but here's what you're looking for. It's really profoundly unfunny, but I still thought I'd pass it along.
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sausage shaped, but lumpy
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Rob's archive's don't seem to work (hint hint bobby), so I can't link directly to it. But I thought that the item from 11/28 was one of the funniest pieces I'd read in a while. They's a reason why he be a professional komedian.
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I put up mirrors to a couple of the videos we recorded in LA that Jeff posted yesterday. Here's the first and this is the second. Wanna see the third? Well you can't. Okay, yes you can.
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The Great Game is "a Java applet consisting of a realtime 3d terrain map of the Afghanistan region, depicting munitions, aircraft, targets, and troop movements for each day of the conflict. The Artist culls by hand the daily data from Department of Defense press briefings. Available information regarding type, quantity, and location of munitions and strikes are represented by play pieces created by the Artist from military diagrams. The Artist created the game board from raw ascii elevation data, also supplied by the military. Every 60 seconds a new day is downloaded and displayed on the map, the previous day's play pieces are cleared from the board and a new day commences." -- Das rad. (thanks Watt)
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This is an utterly reprehensible picture. And of course they're young men, it's always young men.
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There's a rather interesting article in Slate on Russia, Oil, and Conspiracy Theories.
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The Tollivers are friends of my mother's. She had met Mose years ago, but became good friends with Johnny, Mose's son, through the church. I met Johnny for the first time when he brought some food over to my mother's house when Harp and I were there for a visit. But when I went home to help my Mom take care of my grandmother, I met Johnny's wife, Victorine, who was also taking care of her. Victorine was quite literally a Godsend. She could get my grandmother to smile when nobody else could. She had unlimited patience, and was there for both my mother and grandmother as an emotional bulwark during my grandmother's last days. She wrote a poem about Granny's smile that we read at her funeral. She really was amazing. But her father-in-law, Johnny's dad, Mose also happens too be a fairly well-known folk artist. Before I left I promised Johnny I'd put up a website for Mose to help him sell his paintings. i'm planning on doing so next month while I'm unemployed. (If anyone wants to help, drop me a line. i'm teaching myself Flash, but I could definitely use some help.). In any case, if you aren't familiar with him, here's Mose Tolliver (thanks Mom)
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tuesday, november 27

If you have any interest in Daoism, which you probably do not, this is a great site.
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The Who's early work is finally coming to stereo
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dumbass
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Salon's been much-maligned lately, and not entirely fairly. There's still a lof of great content, but now it's mostly reserved for Premium members. Case in point: Phillip Robertson's spectacular gonzo piece on Afghanistan. Sure, it reads a little bit like a Neal Pollock piece, but it's at once entertaining and enlightening. Pure magazine journalism. An excerpt:
While I was in the back room sleeping, the soldier who had shot at me came back with 17 friends to finish the job. They collared the trainee assistants out front and asked them if they knew anything about the foreigner. The kids ran inside and asked Nangulee what they should tell them. "Tell them you are only students and don't know anything about a foreigner." Nangulee went out after a few minutes and told them to go screw themselves. Eventually they went away. When I asked Nangulee why they wanted to find me so badly, he said they wanted my money and telephone. Northern Alliance soldiers are not paid a regular salary, and most of them cannot read or write. "Most of these soldiers are crazy," Nangulee said. "Never go out at night."
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Wow! It's the real Christopher Robin! I'm a tremendous pooh fan. Pooh bear!
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I love the Examiner. Love. Not that I believe everything I read in it, but I love it nonetheless. It's like your crazy friend who's always outraged, talking conspiracy theories and promoting untenable political positions, but whom you love anyway for his zaniness (for most of my friends, this guy is known as me). It's a tabloid, folded like a regular paper. It's our own New York Post, but nobody seems to have caught on yet.
Lately the paper of wreckord has had some real doozies, which I keep meaning to share. First, there's the story on Danielle Steele, who is apparently to cars and parking permits what Imelda Marcos was to shoes. The story, in and of itself, isn't particularly outrageous. But the way in which it is reported makes it seem so. And, even better, the Examiner lists her address. Her address! It's an open invitation to go knocking on the door. "Pardon me, Ms. Steele, but could you please move your fucking car?"
Another story in the Examiner caught my eye as well recently. Perhaps that's because it was a headline story in 72 point type that screamed "Terror Sex on the Rise," or something like that. Put the words "terror" and "sex" together in a headline and it doesn't matter very much what the rest of it says. Essentially the story is on the rise in the number of casual encounter ads on craigslist. But for stories like these, as it is with fruitpies and debutantes, presentation is everything. The way the Examiner presents them makes it worth dropping a quarter.
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monday, november 26

HowDareThey.org is one of the most compelling Web sites I've come across in ages (found via the always excellent Stay Free). It's Public Campaign's look at businesses profiteering since 09/11, typically with the help of shamelessly immoral Republican congressmen. I warn you, this site got my blood boiling. Veins popped out on my forehead and I had a terrible headache after just a few minutes. How can people be so callous? How is it possible that we allow this kind of shameless bribery to take place, subverting our government by and for the people in favor of monied interests. There are a lot of evil motherfuckers in American government and business. Republicans: the best party money can buy.
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Google Search: joke rock bands
Hell yeah. Take that Tenacious D. (thanks for the tip Andy, and for the inspiration rabbit blog.)
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Jeff Harp and I spent the weekend with Rob and his roommates Michael Sweeney and Kalen Conover down in Hollywood. We brought a bunch of instruments, so all of us played all weekend long. I've never heard Harp sound so good on the keys (or singing), and I think my bass playing was at its best as well. We knocked out a bunch of originals and even a few covers, including what I thought was a spectacular version of the Pixies "Where is my Mind" with Jeff waling the "OOOO-ooooo." But for me the highlight of the playing was when Michael started strumming a Neutral Milk Hotel song. I was amazed, I mean, not w whole lot of folks here in SF listen to the elephant 6 stuff so I'm just not accustomed to hearing it. But then, what really blew me away, was when I said "hey do you know 2 headed boy," and Kalen immediately started strumming it. It's not that Mangum's songs are hard to play, it was just fun for me to be able to play them/improv on them with other like minded people. We got a couple of spoectacular sonngs on tap[e, although I know that the two that I thought were the best came about when we weren't recording (of course). On one we had run out of tape, and on another the camera had been turned off while Jeff went to the store. A real pisser, but the fun was in the doing, not the showing anyway. It was altogether a great time. I love my friends. Thanks Rob.
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Email. Can't live without it; can't set it on fire and dance naked around it. I get too much email, way more than I can handle. This is particularly true at work, where I get an email message every time someone posts to one of the forums I moderate (for example, right now at work my mailboxes have 2612 unread messages in various folders.) But that's to be expected, and you get paid to sort through all of it and deal with it. But my personal email is getting to be the same way. I mean, I didn't have 2600 new messages, but I did have over 500, all because I didn't check it in a few days. There's nothing to do in a situation like this except to scan for important stuff and then delete everything else (and if I've deleted one of yours without replying, I apologize, but I hope you understand). I'm a tremendous filterer. My mailbox has more subdirectories then, er, something with a lot of subdirectories. And so for some things, such as mailing lists, stuff not addressed directly to me, stuff with over 20 recipients, andthing with
"HOT" or "TEEN" in subject line, etc, sorting isn't an issue. It all gets dumped into a folder and then straight to the trash. But for the other 200 some odd messages, this doesn't work. What I need is a more intuitive filter. Something that can detect funny, for example. Anybody got a funny filter?
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Only 45%? Well that sucks. But on another note, it's yet another silly meaningless test with its own icon. Hoo-ray.

I am 45% EMO.

Not quite Emo
Hmm.. i suggest I stopped listening to Dashboard Confessional.... enough said... Now that I stopped looking at my shoes, I know how the real world looks.

Take the EMO Test at Fuali.com!

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Teletubby assassin (thanks Dave!)
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thursday, november 22

Happy Thanksgiving!
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wednesday, november 21

I snapped a picture of my favorite. motorcycle. ever. Peep it.
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Number four on the list of things I never though I'd hear Rob say:
r o b d p 2: I'm waiting for this liz phair cd to burn...
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Congratulations Tim!
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Also on e-sheep: History Lesson, Part III
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Because you weren't paying attention the first time: It's the ultimate Thanksgiving cartoon.
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Ouch! I just read this on Heather Havril..., er, Rabbit blog and it made me wince:
WHY I DON'T LIVE IN SAN FRANCISCO
4. It's a well-established, widely-known fact that the women are all smart and funny and great and the gay men are great but the straight men either have bed-head and play in joke-rock bands, or they're sort of wiener-y.
What's so wrong with joke rock bands?
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"It's going to be a tough nut to crack, but it's not impossible."
Dennis, dude, it's Utah. Yes it is. It's very fucking impossible.
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Mark Fiore has a great cartoon today. Someday, all editorial cartoons will be in Flash. And I'll have my own tribe of slave monkeys who live to serve my every whim.
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Monkey's Gone To Heaven.
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tuesday, november 20

Fight! Fight! Fight!
Today, as I was strolling beneath a freeway overpass on my way to pick up a couple of fish tacos, a car screeched to a stop by the curb just opposite me. It was a purple compact of come sort with a man and a woman up front, and a boy who looked to be twelve or so in the back. The driver's side fender was smashed up pretty good. The couple looked somewhat down on their luck.
As soon as the noise from the tires stopped, I heard something else, a women screaming: Get out of the Gah-Tamd Cah! Get out of the Gah-Tamd Cah!
The man yells back: You get out!
Her: It's my cah!
Him: Get the fuck out!
They sort of wrestled for a minute, and then her door swings open and she pops out. He throws her purse at her, as well as a bag with what looked like a burrito and chips. Then the car sped off in a squeal of tires. The kid in the back's expression never changed. Totally impassive.
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I used to love the Red and Black, UGA's student newspaper. (Perhaps that's because the Wheel, Emory's student paper, sucked so mightily. But I digress) The Red and Black has a great cartoon lampooing UGA's biggest dumbass. Thanks Todd!
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Microads are just fascinating to me. they're so obvious and so simple. Sure, unless they're highly targeted, they aren't going to work. But at ten bucks a pop, you can't really complain about the CTRs you get as an ROI.
Um, sorry for the business babble. Had to be done.
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Saturday night, we were having a debate as to whether or not the Leonids could make it through Earth's atmosphere without burning up. Harper was correct.
:::sigh::: this item is also from mefi, I feel like a plagerist
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More on the Tourist Guy. I really should point out Andy's thread on MeFi.
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There's a good article on Dan the Automator Nakamura in today's SF Gate. I can't believe he's a local. There's so much good music here in the Bay Area, that you just take a lot of it for granted.
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Hi Mat,
Congratulations! Your images:
marketstreetpm.jpg
have been selected for the LuckyPix archive, a collection of the most real
images in stock photography
Excellent. And how easy. If you missed the link before (and have any notion of selling photos) , scoot over to luckypix for a really easy user experience and (hopefully) money.
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The Tourist Guy found Really. No joke. (thanks Andy & MeFi)
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monday, november 19

Don't blame it on your "concern" for your son, dumbass.
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A little lower, please
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Bush administration quietly overturning environmental rules / Some policies eased in name of securityThe moves include allowing road-building in national forests, making it easier for mining companies to dig for ore on public lands, easing energy- saving standards for air conditioners and, environmentalists say, making it easier for developers to eliminate wetlands.
Remember: it's only quiet because you aren't making a fuss.
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I'm always amazed at how cyclical life is. Things pop in and out of your life, reminding you of what's important, what matters. Case in point: the mysterious "phish" version of Snoop's "Gin & Juice." It was all over Napster in the late winter/early spring of 2000. It wasn't phish, (and I've since heard who it was and forgotten) but that didn't really matter. I really didn't care who sang it, I just loved the bluegrass version.
I hadn't heard that song in a long time, a year at least. I've got a massive bank of mp3s on my machine at work, nearly 10GB. And since I typically listen to music in shuffle mode, things often, well, get lost in the shuffle. So today (it's 11-14-01 as I write this) the song came on the jukebox and really took me back.
The reason it did has to do with Macworld. I came here after working at two failed dot-com start-ups, one a web magazine and the other a political action site. The first lasted nearly a year. The second never even made it to a permanent location. Hell I never even got a permanent chair. After that I tried my hand at freelancing and decided I couldn't make a go of it. It was okay at first, but I quickly realized that I didn't have the contacts or the drive to make a serious run at it. Between those experiences, my ego was completely crushed. Just smashed. I've never in my life been at a lower point, professionally, than I was then.
I completely doubted my ability as a writer. I thought I was full of shit and worthless. I was deeply ashamed of myself, taking the failures of the companies I'd worked for as my own. It was a big swing. In December of 1999 I'd been on top of the world. By June of 2000, when I went to work at Macworld, after what I considered to be three personal failures, I was a mess, utterly lacking in self confidence.
And around that same time, I started getting sick of "Gin and Juice," the novelty had worn off, and I was in no mood for happy songs. Overall Macworld was a great place to work, and very good for me. I got my shit together again, and I've got nothing but great things to say about the magazine and all the people that work there. But I say "was a great place to work" because last Monday, I handed in my resignation. I made it through a couple of rounds of layoffs and a forced vacation, several reassignments, and more meetings with vendors who absolutely wasted all of our time than I care to recall.
But sometime this Fall, I think it was not long after Granny died, my self-confidence returned. I also returned to the "life's too short" view. I need to be working somewhere that makes me feel like I'm bettering not just myself, but others as well. So I've left Macworld at perhaps the worst possible time to be looking for a job. But I'm not worried, and like it says at the top of the page, I'm not scared. I'm happy and on top of the world.
I'm rolling down the street, sippin on gin and juice, metaphorically speaking.
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Leonid images.
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"There's a girl in one of my classes who's on Ritalin and Valium -- hello in there, echo, echo, echo, echo! Teenagers may have messed-up hormone stuff, but I'd rather be messed up than a dead-for-all-intents-and-purposes zombie Vulcan." -- Tara, an East Bay High School student on kids who do drugs. The kind their parents put them on, I mean.
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sunday, november 18

Here's one of myphotographica entries. This is of Harp and me at Fort Funston on Saturday.
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saturday, november 17

Last night Harp, Jeff and I went out on the town. First we drove up to Joe's place in Diamond Heights. He was throwing a birthday party for his girlfriend Lauren. We stayed there for a couple of hours then headed down into the Mission to the Dovre to meet up with Julie and Elvis (Elvis was working. Julie was sort of working). The Dovre is Elvis' brother Brian's place. A great bar we don't go too often enough because it's across town. Anyway, once there we hung out with Julie until we closed the place down and had to stumble home. All in all a great time. Nothing compares to a night out with friends.
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friday, november 16

I typically avoid linking to MeFi stuff, but this tidbit from the Economist is too juicy to pass up.
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Fast Forward Friday Five

lucky pix
yerba mate
turkey daze
freestyle
prankorama

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Because you can't hold out forever: It's the Tim Show... starring Tim!
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Here's my first upload to photographica. If you read my site regulalry, you've probably seen this one before.
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It's very early, but so far my text ad on mefi has a click through rate of 20%. We'll see if that holds.
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I know 2001 has a month and a half left to go. But I'm already reminiscing, musically at least. And it was a damn good year for new music. I remember last year I had trouble coming up with ten albums that I really loved at the end of the year. This year, like in 1999, I had a hard time limiting it to ten. But here they are, in no particular order.
My top ten:

Manu Chao: Proxima Estacion Esperanza
The Shins: Oh, Inverted World
Spiritualized: Let It Come Down
Radiohead: Amnesiac
Stephen Malkmus
Bjork: Vespertine
Fugazi: The Argument
Mercury Rev: All Is Dream
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Mouse On Mars: Idiology

honorable mentions:

tool: lateralus
the beta band: hot shots ii
Yo Yo Ma: Classic Yo-Yo
white stripes: white blood cells
Tipsy: Uh-Oh
jeff mangum: live at jittery joes
What are yours? (Post in the comments field below if you care to)

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Rob pointed this out to me. When we were in Athens, shortly before I graduated, one of the best live acts I ever saw was a band called "drip." I bought their CD and never heard from, or of, them again, aside from seeing their name in the Flagpole from time to time. Rob dug them too, which was enough for me because I always respected his taste in music. Anyway, it turns out that Andy Lemaster of Drip has a new band called Now It's Overhead that's (surprise surprise, I think it's now a rule for Athens bands) hooked up with Elephant 6. This review is somewhat ho-hum, but I'm looking forward to checking them out.
UPDATE:LeMaster, along with former Sugar bassist David Barbe and the Glands' Andy Baker, owns and operates the Chase Park Transduction Recording Studio, where he has worked with Japancakes, Azure Ray, Bright Eyes (of whom LeMaster is also a touring member), and Seaworthy, among others.
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And the only truly sacrilegious thing you can say at this particular moment, besides that Bush is an embarrassing simpleton or Cheney is a creepy war-mongering puppeteer or this war is sinister and dishonest or that patriotism does not mean sticking little flags on your SUV, is of course to say that you don't really think the Harry Potter books are all that great. -- Mark Morford, on Harry Potter books and Satanism. I wish I could just reprint his entire column....
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From Steve: Huge meteor shower this weekend. Possibly 500,000 "shooting stars" Best seen early Sunday morning. If you're out, look up. I'm going to post some pictures on Sunday.
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Wow. What a great way to meet women. "Hi, I'm the ugliest man in Peru."
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I've always enjoyed making prank phone calls. Some of my earliest memories of the telephone involve using it (along with my cousins Sherri and Doug) to prank phone call random people and pretend we were with a radio station. Since we were like 8, nobody believed us, and I'm pretty sure that whatever we were doing was ultimately harmless. But still, it goes way back.
Today I virtually never make prank phone calls. Who needs to? That's what telemarketers are for. In college, I worked for two different telemarketing firms, one that sold magazines and another that raised money for the Georgia State Troopers Association. Here's what I know about telemarketing: a) it's one of the most boring jobs in the world b) if you give money to a telemarketer for a charity, the charity only sees about seven percent of the cash. The rest goes to the TM. So I view it as my duty to help out by entertaining these poor chumps on the other end of the line and never, *ever* giving them money.
The thing is, you have to tempt them. You have to make them think that there might be some money coming, that if they stay on the line, and put up with your utter insanity and obnoxiousness, they're gonna get that twenty-five cent bonus for making a sale. It's all about the benjamins. Last night, for example, someone called me on behalf of the Special Olympics. I began by expressing my utter gratitude for the special olympics, and explaining to the caller that the real Olympics were no damn good anymore because all the athletes are gay, and I'll be glad to give the Special Olympics money as long as they don't start letting the queers in.
This is one of my favorite things to do. Say something preposterous and reprehensible, but hold out the promise of money, and see if they stick with you. They nearly always do. from there it's the standard silly stuff ("sir did you know that special olympians are training right now to..." "right now?!?" "yes sir right now to.." "but it's cold and dark out!").
But for me the big closer is always the same: get the caller to pray with you. Nobody will do this. All you have to say is something like, "well, jim-bob" (regardless of whether or not they're named jim-bob obviously. or even if they're male) "that sounds pretty good to me. why don't we pray over it?" This freaks people the fuck out. This is when the stammering starts, when they get uncomfortable, and try to weasel. If you sense that they aren't uncomfortable enough, you can always launch into something such as "May God smite all those who bear false witness, vote for democrats, and shop at K-Mart..." I've had one guy go the distance with me and finally I just had to hang up on the cold hearted son of a bitch because I realized he was even more evil than I was. But aside form that it nearly always works.
Great fun. I highly recommend it.
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thursday, november 15

I just discovered photographica, think filepile, but just with photographs that you've taken. Very cool. I love photography, I love community/group web logs. What could be better?
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i put out most of the shins stuff,
including the LP version of the sub pop album, and some stuff by
their old band "flake music". they're one of my favorite bands and a
great bunch of dudes. check out all the flake music stuff still in
print from science project records in albuq. oh, and get that
cargo/headhunter 7" before that label goes under. that's a great one.
neal is a professional hot-air balloonist. jesse teaches girls
basketball. i have a live tape of flake music playing on kdvs 90.3fm
in davis somewhere. they get in an argument with the dj that
interviews them, then proceed to tell off color jokes live on the
air. phones were ringing off the hook. oops. the dj told listeners
that neal looked like a fisherman-jock.
mark
omnibus records
http://www.omnibusrecords.com
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Mon Dieu! There's another. I've never met anohter 1-t Mat. But, here he is. I love the electronet.
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I went out and messed around with my camera some at lunchtime today. I shot some video of a guy riding freestyle at Justin Herman. I got his name, but I didn't write it down and forgot. Fist name started witha C, last name Davis, I think. If you know him, email me.
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My viking name: Nikulas Thickheart
Your Viking Personality: You're a fearsome Viking, but you aren't completely uncivilized. The other Vikings make fun of you for that. You have a thirst for battle, and tend to strike first and think later. You might be able to hold your own on the battlefield, but you're no "berserker".
You would have a very tough time making a long sea voyage in a Viking longboat. You possess some skills which other Vikings respect, though in your case their respect is tinged with fear.
You have a fairly pragmatic attitude towards life, and tend not to expend effort in areas where it would be wasted. Due to your gregariousness, you don't strike fear into the hearts of your victims. Try to be a little more surly in the future.
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Peter Buck behaving badly.
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Auburn's racists make the national news. Congratulations fellas.
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Gosh, I'd live to be in Jersey in December.
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WTO Attempts to Shut Down Parody Website Gatt.org
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wednesday, november 14

This is an amazing photo. Life-affirming in fact.
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In my last entry on this subject: Travis makes the paper.
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Tim turned me on to Meca Wilson's brilliant fucking site some time ago. He's a great writer. Very amusing, in a cynical way. But he's got this logo contest that's only running for another 24 hours. The gist: I myself have fought The Man a few times; parking tickets, speeding tickets, Canada, and each time I lost miserably. Why? Because I didn't have a Logo. You walk in with a logo... that means you've planned ahead: debated color schemes, discussed font issues, coordinated. Shit - you're like RC Cola. And when was the last time they were unsuccessful. Exactly.
See, if we are indeed in this war thing for the long haul, not only do we need the American Flag - the Queen of Logos - splattered over every tank, gun, and uniform, but we need a specialized logo for this war - or whatever this thing is. That way - diplomacy or carpetbomb - we're in like Flint.
Enter often.
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And in the continuing tradition of having everyone but me write for my weblog today, this just in from Curt:

Date: Wed, 14 Nov 2001 11:35:16 -0500
To: Mat
From: Curt
Subject: Auburn follow up
here is the latest, and a story I thought was pretty funny.
only in the South
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She's wearing far too much makeup and far too much pout and she's decked head-to-toe in a white, full-body Elvisesque sequined jumpsuit and in fact she looks exactly like the King, except for the hair and the pout and the lack of massive drug addiction and the fact that Elvis didn't often have his jumpsuit unzipped all the way past his silicon breasts down to his navel piercing and by the time he was schlepping around Vegas he was 300 pounds and sweating Percocet and his upper lip quivered less like an enticement to sex and more like a small ferret on meth. -- Mark Morford on Britney Spears' presence in Vegas.
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Also from Dave: Audiogalaxy has come to the shocking conclusion that, from Alabama to O-Town, every single band named after a place sucks. Ever! (Especially Europe, above).
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I have this little Thanksgiving tradition. Every year, around this time, I email Dave and say "Hey Dave, what's the URL for that genetically modified turkey cartoon?" Says Dave: What a nice tradition. That's a great cartoon -- linking Thanksgiving to
the need to resist corporate consumerism. (Heh. I should've been able to do that from memory. I knew it was Electric Sheep -- or e-sheep.com. And then it's the turkey subdirectory!) By the way, Scott Mcloud, author of Understanding Comics, put Electric
Sheep on his list of the ten best internet comics. (Also on the list: Leisuretown. I came across it when I was writing up the new Leisuretown.)
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One of these days I'm going to make it a point to visit Little Kabul, in Freemont. I'd never heard of it before the war, but there have been 101 "color" stories on reactions in Little Kabul since war erupted. Now that the Taliban have, thankfully, been driven from big Kabul, they're celebrating in little Kabul. Let's hope the Northern Alliance doesn't turn out to be as nasty as the Taliban. I'm not holding my breath.
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tuesday, november 13

Google is sending me a lot of traffic from people looking for Calvin Klein model. Travis (of squash smuggling fame). Normally I'd be appalled to have such folks coming across my transom. But I'm a nice guy. You want to see Travis, I'll do the legwork for you. So if you came here looking for our boy in briefs, check out these naked pictures of Travis. Be warned, he looks better on Market Street.
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Happily, divine economic punishment will restore this natural order by selectively undoing certain things that have come to pass in the last, oh, say, three decades or so. Mind you, the exact list of those things varies according to whom you ask -- the same people who, for instance, claim to be opposed to gentrification in the Mission are often perfectly prepared to make exceptions for favorite restaurants, like Delfina and the Slanted Door -- but it's always headed by the demand that a whole lot of people just move away, since they never had any right to be here in the first place. -- Laurel Wellman.
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Last night Harper and I went to see The Cafe Project at The Canvas Cafe & Gallery. The Cafe Project is a series of plays designed to be put on in cafe settings. There are seven of them altogether. Last night we watched three. Due to the noise, we pretty much missed the first one. (The downside to seeing a play in a cafe is, well, the cafe). But the second play, which starred a friend of Harper's, and the third were wonderful. The third in particular, "Table 5 at Empire Szechwan" by Alexander Woo was great. Art for the people, free. You've got to love it.
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Harper and I went to Whole Foods over the weekend. I'd never been before. The place is a Bobo paradise, simply unbelievable. It's overpriced, but almost worth it for the "Whole Foods experience." One aspect of the Whole Foods experience (which I should warn you becomes a dramatically different experience when you get to the cash register) is the ever-present sample. On seemingly every aisle, there is a smiling sampler, waiting to ply you with things-that-you-probably-would- buy-if-only- you-tasted-them-won't-you-have-one-please-sir.
And I damn sure did.
I'm here to tell you, you can fill up at Whole Foods if you want to. The turkey lady isn't counting how many times you stop by, and that stuffing is good. Be sure to try the soup, my it's delicious. Enough to drive Martha Stewart crazy (oh wait, too late).
I digress. One sample I tried was this stuff called Yerba Mate. Two words: Diz-amn. I'm drinking some now, and although I wouldn't say that I'm wired, I could definitely kick the shit out of you right now. No, really, try me chump. This stuff puts the Caff in eine. "Feel the Good Energy" it says on the package. I sure as hell do. If I felt it anymore I think I'd have to call for an ambulance. Seriously, this stuff is good, and it's delicious. Particularly with milk. Try some today.
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monday, november 12

So this would pretty much be the flyest ride in all of San Francisco. Buy it now, dot-com boy
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damn!
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Sweet Redesign Ezra
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LuckyPix, which I came across on MeFi, looks to be a really cool site for photographers who want to sell stock photography. (and for folks who want to buy it).
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zany naked people of America, I love you.
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sunday, november 11

Star Wars, Episode 2: Attack Of The Clones Trailer Page. There is another.
As with "breather," I didn't see any sign of Jar-jar here either. A man can hope...
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saturday, november 10

Bushwacked
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friday, november 9

Friday Fast Forward Five
biker
breather
voter
voters
squash smuggler
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Jason Knight, who I've met but is really a friend of a friend, is spinning on Groovetech today from noon till 2. He's good. Enjoy.
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Mike Watt's "pedalin' path" inspired me to do my own version of the same thing. So I made a little quicktime of my ride to work with music. I did this before my spill, and I've been meaning to compress it and post it. But I might never get around to compressing it, so I just posted all 13.4MB of it.
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After the Gold Rush
No, I haven't gone Neil young crazy. I mean it literally. Have you ever wondered about antique gold ingots? I haven't. I just assumed once they were pressed, that was it. That their value was based solely on however much gold is in an ingot. Not so. this 80-pound ingot from the California gold fields of 1849 just sold to a collector for $8 million.
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I get to meet interesting people from time to time in my line of work. I've interviewed George Clinton, R. Crumb, Trent Reznor (just the other day), Mike Watt, and more captains of industry than I'd care to recall. But when people ask me who the most interesting person I've talked to is, I always say, without hesitation, Howard Zinn.
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As I was getting ready for work this morning, I couldn't help but think how I've got the energy and motivation for new endeavors again--energy and motivation that was lost last month and the month before. Months when too many horrible things to catalogue happened, but also a time when I quit, for the most part, riding my bike. I still did on occasion, but not every day. Not even regularly. That's changed again.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I said goodbye to Harper, with my yellow sunglasses, sweatshirt, bag with lights, and one pant leg rolled up, and it occurred to me how important it is to get back up on your bike. In hard times, you've got to take the time to renew yourself physically, emotionally and spiritually (or at least I do).
and I thought about this while I was riding my bike to work today. The city looked fresh and bright again. I saw a new Jerusalem. The streets are my playground. While other people are stuck on busses, packed in like canned fish, I'm outside doing bunny hops. I was literally laughing out loud while on the way to work I was having so much fun. You don't see anyone on the bus laughing. And if you see people in their cars chuckling, it's because they're being entertained, not because they're having fun.
So it was this amazing morning, all warm and introspective and giddy. And as I was coming up to a red light, a woman got out of a car in the street without pulling to the curb and opened her door up on me.
WHAM!
Over the handlebars and smack into a fire hydrant. Unlike my last (and only other major) spill, this really fucking hurt. It took me a few minutes to get up. The woman picked my bike up for me and began apologizing profusely. She stood over me making sure I was alright until I got up. I told her I was, took my bike from her, and started again. I told her it was okay, and it was because I was and from the look on her face I could tell she wasn't *ever* going to open a door in the middle of the street again--certainly not without looking.
Luckily I'd been coming to a red light, so I was slowing down. I also had a chance to hit my brakes for a second or two before I went over. So I wasn't hurt badly, just bruised and shaken up. But it seemed to bring things full circle for me, the importance of getting back on your bike. Not just in a metaphysical sense, but really--get back up on your bike. It was like a lesson within a lesson for me
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thursday, november 8

Jeff Harper and I were watching Temptation Island 2 tonight (it just came on, I swear). Did anyone else find the first commercial odd?
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Bush can read surprisingly well. Kudos to whoever wrote this.
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I accidentally stumbled on These Days - Real People in R.E.M. songs. Cool page with a bunch of interesting trivia.
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I've been listening to Modest Mouse's This Is a Long Drive for Someone With Nothing to Think About all morning. I love rediscovering albums. I haven't listened to this one in a while and I had forgotten just what an amazing piece of work it is, not a single throwaway on the whole thing, full of emotion, incredible songwriting, incredible playing, I can't believe I was out of town when they played last month....
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I saw cotton and I saw black
Tall white mansions and little shacks
Southern man when will you pay them back?
I heard screamin' and bullwhips cracking
How long? How long?
-- Neil Young
The really scary thing is that the poll indicates (as of the time I write this) that 50% of the people who've read this article don't feel the frat should be disciplined at all. (thanks Curt!)
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Google just gets better and better. Mac users, now there's a Google just for us. (via metafilter)
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There's still no resolution to our recent election. It's like a Florida redux, only this time The Supremes aren't going to get another shot at treason (yeah, treason). Our Power to the People measure is already a giant fiasco and it hasn't even passed yet. Anthrax, Lawyers, and Brisbane, Oh My!
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Tim sent me this. I don't really want to explain it (nor am I sure that I could). Just click around. It has nothing to do with 09-11, but it might scare the piss out of you if you're afraid of flying. In any case, it's Flashtastic. Tres fucking cool.
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wednesday, november 7

``When I smoke scorpion, then the heroin is like nothing to me.''
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You always hear people use the cliche veritable cornucopia, but it's such an unusual combination of words that I wonder if it doesn't have a source in literature or a movie, anyone know?
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Jeff's post today really got to me. I'm just going to quote a little bit of it
I am a little embarrased to write about this but I am also kind of proud of myself. I voted for the first time yesterday. (snipped) I have done my civic duty.
It felt good after I walked outside and told myself I made a difference. Everything has changed. Now I can debate politics with a clear conscience knowing that yes, I do vote. I feel empowered. I beat that dreaded box! I am somebody! I look forward to many more voting experiences and I will walk in on the next voting day and just dare that box to spit out my ballot. I own you ballot box!
Right on brother. You're the man.
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Do you keep a web log/journal/website-of-any-sort that you maintain in the 94117? let me know.
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This sounds weird, but I love to vote. I always have. I remember having a mock presidential election at my elementary school, Greengate in 1980. I Don't remember who I voted for. Hope it was Carter, but it probably was Reagan. When I was a little kid, I used to love to see old Grampa Reagan on the teevee. But still, the "election" remains one of my most vivid memories, walking into the modified closet with a makeshift curtain and writing a name on a slip of paper. I remember going with my Mom to vote as a little kid, and her letting me come into the poll with her. I vividly recall my first experience voting--a gubernatorial race in Alabama. And the voting process here in California is one of the many reasons I love this state. It's so republican, all the propositions make me feel like I *am* the government--which is sorta the whole point of America, don't you think? I love to vote on propositions, even the ones I really have to struggle with them and I'm not sure that I've done the right thing. Hell, I just love participating in a democracy, even when the guy I voted for doesn't make the runoff (and it goes a long way towards explaining why I was so upset that we had this bloodless coup in which democracy was subverted in the Dauphin's favor last year). So when I read articles about people not voting it pisses me off. Our electoral process is wonderful, it's blissfull. Particularly here in California. We get to do something that virtually nobody else in the world does here in the Golden State. We've got to take advantage of it.
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The Northern Lights came to California Monday night. I didn't see anything (other than Mike Watt), but it looks like I missed a heck of a light show. I'm almost glad I didn't see them, to be honest. Having never seen them before, I would probably have flipped out. But it wasn't just California, the lights could be seen from Kansas to Georgia. For a great big gallery of images, check out spaceweather.com.
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tuesday, november 6

And another picture from my new camera. This is the view just over my left shoulder (and past one other cube) at work:

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The other night, Jeff Harper and I were riding back in a Taxi from the Embarcadero Bart to the Haight. Along the way, we passed one of the new Calvin Klein ads featuring sullen boy, Travis. We were all a little taken aback; me Harp, Jeff, the cabbie, you name it. None of us were, um, comfortable with Travis' level of comfort. The next day, I saw a Macy's ad in the Chron, featuring Travis (which is where I found out his name, of course he doesn't have a last one), and inviting all to come meet him at Macy's. "Why would I want to do that," I thought, "Travis is, unfortunately, everywhere." And I do mean *everywhere*. He's smuggling squash all up and down Market Street. (and if you haven't seen Travis in action on the street, here's a picture I snapped this morning with my new camera):
Here's what I don't get about Travis: is this supposed to make me want to buy underwear? I mean, even if I did go for the banana hammock, I could never walk into a store now and buy a pair of CK skivvies without feeling completely gay (NTTAWWT). And as for ladies... well. Let's just say that you do go in and buy your gent a pair of the Travis' specials, I'm guessing that you're going to find your fella doesn't quite, um, fill his shoes/ measure up/ fit the mold/ stuff - a - pair - of - shorts - like - twelve - tube - socks - crammed - in - a - coin-purse. And to head off the criticisms at the pass, Travis doesn't make me feel insecure or, well, you know. But really, at 8 a.m., the last damn thing I need to see is Travis' dingle dangling.
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Ezra's weblog just keeps getting better and better.
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Six down, Ninety-four to go. Man, I'm gonna be pretty hungover.
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