Blogitude

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 22:35:00 +0000

Who Will Dance on the Floor in the Round.

It appears that Michael Jackson is dead...which is apparently enough to bring this blog back to life.

If Michael is dead. I don't really know how I feel about it. Obviously I don't know the man, but it certainly seems like in recent years he took the story-line of his most famous video to heart and turned into some sort of monster.

I mean if his guy was out there using his celebrity to terrorize little kids, the world is probably better off without him.

On the other hand, it's hard to look back on my own childhood and NOT have fond memories of Michael Jackson. His talent was as legendary as his eccentric behavior. I feel like the Michael Jackson I new as a kid probably died in the 90s.

My favorite memory of MJ was watching him premier his "moonwalk" move on a Motown Special on television. We recorded it on VHS not knowing what we were about to see. Make no mistake. People went crazy for this fuckin moonwalk. For a year or so people who would visit us in our home, would ask to see this VHS recording of the moonwalk. This whole performance of Billy Jean was totally electric:

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 20:45:00 +0000

Where Is My Mind

Last Week I had a pretty bonkers dream and since I woke up and actually remembered it, I wrote it down. So now I can share with you whatever it is that's wrong with me.

Before I can begin to describe this dream I should make one important announcement. I have become a huge fan of Heidi Montag. I am aware that she's not all that popular. Girls in particular seem to despise her. But me? I'm a big fan.

A couple of things for the record. I agree with what appears to be the common consensus: When compared to other beautiful celebrities, HM is not all that pretty. However I suspect that if she walked into my office right now she'd be pretty darn popular. Yes I know she's all plastic and fake, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I think she's got a hot body. So there's that, I'm a terrible person.

Also I have never seen the Hills ("The City" however is a different matter and I am quite partial to Olivia). Supposedly my new favorite singer doesn't come off so well on "reality" television. Whatever. I'm not into her for her looks, or her personality. I'm attracted to the artist.

She makes bad music (and bad music videos) in a way that I don't think I've ever seen before. As far as I can tell it's a revolution. There have been plenty of videos lampooning her masterpiece "Higher" so I'm not going to go into too much detail about how much I adore this video (I've watched it hundreds of times now). Let me just give you a few quick highlights.

1) Count how many times she raises her hands out dramatically to her sides. It's almost her only move...almost.

2) at about 1:40 in this video you will see the sexiest booty move ever to be ruined by a lack of co-ordination. Ever. Period. This has to be on purpose. Michael Scott can't be this awkward.

3) My other favorite moments are parts of the final cut of the video that were obviously meant for the "behind-the-scenes-bloopers reel" and yet somehow snuck their way into the actual video:

At 1:00 Heidi actually falls (while attempting her "raise your hands" move).

At 1:57 Heidi actually stops performing to respond to something that happens off-camera. I dunno...some fan shouting hello? A whale washing up on shore? Something. We don't get to see it. That's the genius of it. The director leaves it up to US and our imagination. Brilliant.

Anyway, back to my dream.

The dream began with me doing something very normal. I was watching the Heidi Montag video "Higher". As you can tell, I know this video pretty much backwards and forwards, and it quickly became obvious that I was not watching the standard version of the video. It was some "special edition" with actual film cameras and crane shots. Heidi was climbing a grassy hill instead of frolicking on the beach and the centerpiece of the video is some man being raised on a platform high(er) above the water on a nearby lake.

Than I was the man on the platform. I am so high(er) above the water that it's positively terrifying. I can see a boat down below and I know that there is some sort of film crew there and maybe a party. Why am I up so high(er)? I can't even remember. I know I have to jump though and so I do.

I plummet towards the lake and fall for a long time. I close my eyes and stiffen my body...bracing for an impact that takes forever to come. But it finally does and the next moment I'm being helped onto the boat. For someone who has just jumped into a lake I'm surprisingly dry (and in street clothes). I also realize that the boat isn't just some normal utility vehicle. It's actually more like a historical cruise ship. Maybe an old steamboat? It's filled with rooms that are made to look like scenes from the 1870's or something.

It's also filled with beautiful party people. More specifically beautiful party ladies. College ladies. It's basically girls gone wild on a floating museum but not quite so topless. I think some of my friends might be on the boat. I'm pretty sure my cousin Eric is, but I don't see any of them. I end up talking to a stunning young woman while wandering through all the different rooms on the steamer.

We pass through bars and a comedy club. We walk along the deck (which now looks more like a modern cruise ship...holy crap I think I'm on the love boat all of a sudden). Anyway at some point it becomes clear that what we are doing is looking for some privacy. However, unlike a "normal" dream (where there are no real rules or consequences), I don't seem to hanging out on Fantasy Porn Island.

I'm struck with an actual moral dilemma. The me in the dream is the same person as the me doing the dreaming in one important respect: we both have a girlfriend. The temptation this opportunity is presenting me is so powerful, and I am very conflicted.

This is the "tossing and turning" portion of the dream. I know that if I submit, no one will ever know that I've done something wrong...but I still don't want to be the guy who does something mean and shallow. I want to be the good guy.

Anyway I come pretty close to being the bad guy but in the end decide not to (hooray...probably). Instead I go to the fancy restaurant and have dinner with some strangers.

We are all sitting around the table talking when this cartoon waiter, with a huge mustache comes by. He goes around the table unfolding napkins and laying them on our laps, then he slips something into my coat. It's bulky and heavy like a glass of some kind. It slips down the side of my chest and falls onto the floor.

The waiter looks at me like I've done something wrong, picks up the item and gives it to me again. I look at it and realize it's some kind of plastic urinal and bed pan. It's a contraption that will allow me to sit there and eat without having to get up to use the restroom. I assure the waiter that I am quite comfortable leaving the table and that I won't be needing those things. (Again...another moral dilemma solved by me)

I decide to exit the restaurant and return to the party. I step outside into the backyard of the house that I grew up in. There are people at the barbecue, people swimming, people in the hot tub. My friend Danika is there and she tells me that there is one crucial ingredient missing from this party -- Giant balloons shaped like tits, and filled with chili. Seriously...this is something that my waking mind would never have come up with. Never in a million years.

"They are so awesome!" She gushes. She is so excited about these...these things that she finally convinces me to go find some. They are clearly a "must have".

Strangely enough I discover that we actually have some of these in the house. I go across the street to borrow some chili and get to work assembling the titty-balloons.

My last memory of this dream as a view of my old backyard, drenched in sunshine and filled with happy people. Happy people who are bouncing giant inflatable boobs (filled with chili) around like beach balls.

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 19:42:00 +0000

Props

I believe it was Oscar Wilde who said that the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.

I use this blog to talk about a lot of things (when I actually post of course), among them are some of the important people in my life. A few of my readers have spoken to me about their desire to become a part of the magic that is "blogitude", and have been hoping for a mention here for years.

On the whole I try to avoid making this just a personal diary, and when I do talk about the details of my life here I try to be as open as possible. So sometimes people who "deserve" mention get lost in the shuffle.

So now, in no particular order I give you:

Brian Phipps.

Here he is wearing a bandanna:

I have been working with Phipps for a long time now. Our relationship has really changed over the years. As you may know, I am something of a "button-pusher", and soon after meeting Brian I took it upon myself to become the annoying brother that he never had.

You could describe our interactions as "adversarial".

At some point I remember deciding that things had gone too far and that it was time for us to be friends. It was time to cast aside the small-minded pranks and petty insults and embrace a more supportive and encouraging environment in the office.

It sorta worked out.

Anyway Phipps is a great guy, who faithfully reads my blog mostly so that he can tell me how disappointed he is with it every time.

Here's to Phipps. Hurray!

James Scarafone:

James is a heavy metal, rock n roller, drummer:

James is a solid guy. A good listener. Probably the one person here in the office who truly appreciates the fine art of Thor and his "muscle rock". James is a trusted confidant and a consistent source of sage advice. He's a good friend. He'd be a great friend but he's also something of a shut-in who never wants to hang out outside of work.

James recently cut his hair short. He's been a long hair degenerate for the entire 9 years I've known him. It was a bit of a shock, but probably for the best.

Last but not least I should talk about Trisha. Here she is:

For the past few years I've been clogging up this blog with many sad and frustrating posts about my stumbles in love. With Trisha I have taken a great leap forward. Trisha and I have been dating for about 9 months now. We met at work (which I know your not supposed to do but I mean come on. Where else do you meet people these days?)

Trisha is a sweet(and sassy) woman who has had a hugely positive impact on my life. She's soft spoken but will surprise you with some feisty fast talk when you least expect it (like I said...sassy). She's also quite artistic and especially crafty. She also really seems to understand me (which is cheesy but true) and that's pretty darn important.

Also. She plays complicated war games like Paths of Glory with me. I mean come on. Path's of Glory! You have no idea how impressive this is. Look at how awesome she is:

Trisha moved in with me at the end of December and I couldn't be happier about it.

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Sat, 20 Dec 2008 01:52:00 +0000

Um...I'm Famous?

"Cherchez la Baditude"

-B-

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 19:34:00 +0000

Time To Spread Some Cheer.

Well rather than clog up this space with a long-winded recap of everything I missed in the last year or so. I'll just pretend like there's been no break and write about something pointless and mundane.

What I remember about blogging is that most of it seems to be about complaining about something. With that in mind, here is a short list of things I am sick of:

1) "Got Anything"

Remember this?

We all loved the got milk ad campaign. It was effective because it communicated a simple truth that most of us can relate to, in a clever and humorous way. Namely that the average American finds milk to be a perfect and almost vital compliment to a wide variety of tasty (and typically rich) treats.

Interesting side note: that original "Aaron Burr" milk ad was directed by Michael Bay.

Anyway. About a million other people with zero creativity jumped on the milk bandwagon and attempted to peddle their products by placing the word "got" in front of whatever-the-fuck they were selling.

The day I realized I had had enough of this bullshit was when I was following some soccer-mom/private-tutor's Ford Escort and saw these words (in that all-too-familiar font) on her tinted rear window: "GOT GOOD GRADES?"

what?

"GOT GOOD GRADES?" *smirk*

excuse me? Wipe that god damned smile off your face. If you're not smart enough to come up with a better slogan your certainly not qualified to teach anyone anything. Ever. The only thing that slogan tells me is that this tutor excels at ripping something off badly. I'm sure all his/her student's excel at plagiarism.

2) "Scandalgate"

On August 9, 1974 President Richard Nixon resigned as president of the United States of America. Nixon ended an unpopular war in Vietnam, made friends with China and helped foster a spirit of cooperation with the Soviets -- easing Cold War tensions. However because he was something of an arrogant shyster he wound up abandoning his office in disgrace, with a dismal approval rating of around 20%.

It was discovered that the Nixon administration was up to all sorts of no-good when some of his goons where found breaking into the offices of the Democratic National Committee. Offices that were located in a group of buildings called the Watergate Complex.

The "Watergate Scandal" as it came to be known ended up sinking the Nixon Administration and tainted his entire legacy.

The worst consequence of this whole thing was that lazy news-people had a secret meeting somewhere to decide that from now on every scandal or disagreement or point of controversy should from then on have the word "gate" as it's suffix.

This means if you go to a restaurant and order a hamburger and the service was slow you should refer to this incident as "burger-gate".

If your neighbor crashes his car into the door attached to your fence and refuses to pay for the damages, you should refer to this incident as "gate-gate"

I hate this short-hand for "scandal" for a number of reasons. Mostly because it's trite and tired. But also because it obscures and confuses the actual history of the original "gate" and makes "Watergate" sound like some infamous aquatic crime.

3) "Carol of Hells"

Again I have to harp on advertisers. I know it's an easy target because there are SO many bad commercials out there but I just can't help myself. I know I only have like 10 readers here and I don't think any of them are in advertising but if you KNOW someone who is, please tell them to stop making holiday themed ads with Christmas carol parodies.

For the love of the Jesus who you claim to be celebrating. STOP IT!

It's not that I hate holiday music (though by December 10th or so it does get a little old). I just find these to be unbelievably lame. The song that gets raped most often seems to be Carol of Bells. Which is a rather charming tune actually (though I prefer it as an instrumental). It feels very "wintery". It sounds like snow.

However when someone like Garmin comes in a takes a dump all over it sounds like shit and makes me want pour acid in my ears.

Oh and lest you think I'm some sort of Scrooge. I do have a favorite Christmas song:

"I Wanna wiiiiish you a merry christmas!!"

-B-

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 20:14:00 +0000

I wonder

If I started blogging again would anyone notice?

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 21:59:00 +0000

Luxembourg and the Priest!

Almost done with these.

While I was planning this trip to Europe (predominantly the trip to Croatia), Mike mentioned to me that Judas Priest (an old high school favorite) would be playing a show in Luxembourg.

I'm not really sure why, but for some reason this seemed like a perfect combination and I was pretty sure I did NOT want to miss this.

Even though the boys in JP are a little old, they still put on quite a show. Rob Halford (the singer) seemed to have been hit the hardest by years of heavy metal touring. Every phrase that he belted out seemed to leave him exhausted -- leaving him leaning over on his mic stand about to pass out.

He never did succumb tho. In fact he really seemed to give it his all.

The Euro-metal crowd did NOT dissapoint either. A popular look for these aging rockers was the "all-over-denim" look. Super tight denim pants, black tee, and denim vest. The vest typically covered in "flair" (sewn on patches for various bands).

Another interesting part of the Euro-crowd was their tendency to sing along to melodies and guitar riffs. They can turn any song into a soccer chant. Check this part of Breakin the Law at 1:37 for an especially good example.

(One more reason to love the internet. I mean...I was at that concert and there is it on Youtube.)

The icing on the cake was the venue itself (the appropriately named "ROCKHAL"), which rests in the shadows of an imposing, abandoned steel mill.

I also spent some time that day in the city of Luxembourg just cruisin around and seeing the sites. It's probably not a "must-see" area of Europe but it's a charming town and a pleasant place to spend an afternoon.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 16:23:00 +0000

Croatia Part 4

On the Way to Zadar we took time out to visit Krka National Park. We spent a few hours hiking around and taking in the impressive scenery. We had planned to go swimming in one of the lakes, surrounded by waterfalls but the weather turned cold just as we arrived and the idea lost its charm.

Of course it was hard to resist the siren song of this particular bathing beauty:

I didn't realize they made aqua-diapers for grown men.

Zadar was one of my favorite stops on our trip. It was also our final leg of the Croatian adventure.

We got some nice weather again while in Zadar and went for a swim at a semi-sandy beach. The beach was close to a huge diving platform that was about as high as our previous cliff jumping excursion. So we hung out there for a bit with some local youngsters.

Zadar was also the setting for some good Euro 2008 soccer viewing. We watched the game at a local bar/bakery and then cruised the town to observe all the merry-making and revelry that came along with a Croatian victory.

Zadar was also home to the sea organ which was a fascinating landmark. Basically a huge musical instrument that is played by the ocean tides.

All in all a fantastic end to a great excursion.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 17:39:00 +0000

Croatia Part 3

Split was the first big city we visited in Croatia. We were not so lucky with the weather here. Despite the persistent clouds we wandered around much of the old city.

Split's central tourist attraction is that is is built withing the skeletal remains of Diocletian's Palace:

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diocletian%27s_Palace

Split's waterfront was quite nice, and it boasts a very impressive statue of Grgur, the bishop of Nin (Known to our group as Gandalf).

Despite these obvious pluses I found I was ready to leave Split pretty quickly and move on to the next town, Trogir.

Trogir was another small little coastal town with a charming "old section".

Mike got his hair cut in Trogir by a woman who was one of the most stand-offish and rude people I had met there in Croatia. She drove me out of her store with her stares and evil eye.

Turns out that after I had left she told mike that I was "beautiful". Wouldn't be the first time I've misread signals like that.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 16:51:00 +0000

Croatia Part 2

Mjet was one of my favorite spots on our trip. A peaceful and totally captivating little island. The perfect setting for an exhilarating bike ride around the lakes.

Mjet is where we started to realize that owning your own sailboat would probably be the way to travel around Dalmatia.

Everywhere we went from Dubrovnik to Zadar had places to tie up a boat right along the major thoroughfares along the water.

Korcula was where we started to get a little unlucky with the weather. We wandered around the cobblestone streets looking to see how many references to Marco Polo we could find.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 01:53:00 +0000

Croatia Part 1

Well I've finally had a bit of time to catch up on a thing or two one of those things being my photos from my recent trip to Europe (mainly Croatia). While I'm at it I figured I'd throw up a blog post. I'm going to post the pictures and blogs and stuff in small chunks for easier digestion.

Traveling with me was my long time friend Mike (aka. Doc Mike, or Disco Stup), his main squeeze Gwen, Mike's lil sister Mal (no longer so lil), and Pete Henning (Pete's really neat).

This was the first time in a long time that I have traveled internationally and not made an effort to learn the language spoken by people native to my destination. It helped me realize how much a lil effort in that regard goes, even if the country you are visiting is full of people who also speak english.

This along with the nature of our destination made this trip seem just bit more "vacation" than "travel" to me. Nothing wrong with a bit of sun-dreanched relaxation though!

We begin in Dubrovnik.

Dubrovnik was our first stop on our tour of the Croatian coastline. Here is where we first experienced the crystal clear waters of the Adriatic, the friendly hospitality of the Croatian people, and the astonishing lack of diversity amongst restaurant menus.

Dubrovnik was perfectly charming and set the stage for what would be a series of similarly charming, walled, coastal towns.

Dubrovnik highlights included gelatto, cliff jumping, and pirate ships.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Tue, 20 May 2008 20:41:00 +0000

Symbols and Censorship.

I gotta great dirty trick you can play on a three year old kid. See kids learn how to talk from listening to their parents see? See so what you do…whenever you’re around ‘em… talk wrong. So now it’s like his first day of school and the kid raises his hand, “may I mambo dogface to the banana patch?” “give that kid a special test…”
-Steve Martin

(some disturbing images are displayed at the end of this post)

Language is a pretty fascinating subject when you stop to think about it. There is so much diversity across the planet in how people communicate. So much of a person’s culture is wrapped up in their language…and not just in their language but how they use their language. Their accent, their slang, every way in which a person speaks reflects something significant about who they are and where they came from.

I also find the “organic” nature of language to be interesting. How it changes over time. How grammar, and usage changes in order to suit the needs of the people who speak it.

Another aspect of language and communication I find interesting is the nature of slang and curse words. The relationship between taboo language and principles of free speech is a strange one. It can seem kind of silly for people to get so worked up over one word while find another one with a similar definition to be reasonably acceptable. Your favorite prime-time television character probably won’t be telling anyone to “fuck off” anytime soon. If they get angry with someone they might just shout, “get outta here!” or “leave me alone!”. Typically no one calls Simon Cowell a “cocksucker” or an “asshole” but he might get called a “jerk”. Polite conversation doesn’t include “shit” or “cunt”, but you might get away with the more scientific “feces” or “vagina”.

Some people would say that these curse words are just that – words. That we shouldn’t get so upset over their usage. That sticks and stones are the only thing that does real damage and that words do nothing.

On the other side of the fence from “sticks and stones” is the “pen is mightier”. Frankly I’m inclined to agree with the pen people. Words can hurt, and they SHOULD hurt. When someone tries to communicate hatred, animosity, or ridicule we should be able to understand them.

I like my curse words and I like them best as taboo. They are so much more powerful that way, and as a result much more useful.

Another vital tool for communication is symbols. The words you are reading now are symbols. You can understand my intentions without me having to verbalize it. Stop signs and traffic lights easily communicate the rules of the road and keep us all (relatively) safe. Symbols are a powerful means of communication because their meaning is easy to understand the instant that you see it. It’s a useful and necessary shorthand for getting through our complicated lives.

Symbols are powerful because they can communicate complicated ideas almost instantly.

One such symbol is the Swastika.

Like the Christian cross, it’s hard to find a more recognizable symbol, and one so charged with emotion and so heavy with cultural baggage. Like the cross, the swastika has meant different things to different people throughout the course of history.

For most of us here in the western world, the swastika has come to symbolize the worst in us -- Bigotry, hatred, murder, and evil. When the Nazi party adopted the swastika as their own, they made an indelible impression in how we see it.

Recently I’ve read a number of opinions on-line about the swastika and how we shouldn’t be afraid of it. People list a number of reasons for doing so. I don’t doubt that most of the people involved in these arguments are good people, free from the sort of darkness that enveloped Europe in the 1940’s.

I’m sure that their hearts are in the right place but I feel that their efforts are misguided.

“The swastika isn’t exclusively tied to Nazis”

This is a very common argument for casually displaying the swastika. It’s true that cultures all over the world have, for centuries, used the swastika as a positive symbol. Depending on where and when you are it could mean, luck, harmony, or balance. It could symbolize whirling winds, or healing powers.

I think that the history of the swastika is important. I don’t want people to forget what it used to mean, but in the western world, the swastika no longer stands for harmony…quite the opposite in fact. You may wish it meant something different. But it doesn’t.

It’s not the first time a symbol or a word has changed definition in a dramatic way. If I told you that you were a “nice person” in the 13th century you’d be insulted.

http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=nice

If you are determined to use “nice” in this antiquated way you’d not only be out of date, but you wouldn’t be communicating effectively with your modern counterparts. You would be “talking wrong”. In short…you’d look “foolish, stupid, and senseless”.

“The swastika is historical. We shouldn’t white wash history”

This is a fair point. I’m not in agreement with policies like those in Germany which make the displaying of swastikas a crime. Communication in most cases shouldn’t be a criminal offense, but just because something is historical doesn’t always mean is should be displayed casually. We shouldn’t try and forget about the swastika…that to me is dangerous. In fact what I argue is closer to the opposite. By keeping the swastika taboo, you re-enforce its meaning. It continues to be a powerful symbol, and an effective warning against fascism, racism, and the sort of mob mentality that can lead to terrible suffering.

I don’t want to ban people from displaying the swastika if they feel they need to, but it should not be displayed lightly or without sensitivity. It should remain taboo….terrible to look at. A reminder of what can happen when we let fear guide us down dark paths, when we late hatred rule our hearts. It should conjure up terrifying images like this:

And this:

And this.

Keeping the stigma attached to the swastika is NOT the same thing as trying to sweep it under the rug. It’s not the same thing as saying, “let’s not ever display this thing again and forget it ever existed”, and that’s not what I’m advocating. Taboos are taught, and then enforced. If curse words really were exclusively detrimental and served no real purpose we wouldn’t use them. The fact is that curse words are incredibly useful but only as long as they are “forbidden”.

The swastika is a powerful tool, and keeping it taboo is what gives it that power. Let it do its job and serve as a useful reminder. Let it remain a short-hand for genocide, and a cultural “warning sign” for oppression and bigotry. Keep it in the culture, and if it must be displayed do so with sensitivity and good sense.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 23:32:00 +0000

Something you may not know about me: I am the worlds foremost authority on "Doug Rock". This is because I coined the phase and can apply it as I see fit.

This doesn't mean I randomly assign it on a whim. It describes a very specific kind of evil. My dream is to one day be able to search Wikipedia and find an entry on Doug Rock. Until that day. Here's what such an entry might look like:

**Doug Rock**
What is Doug Rock? While the quality of most music is a matter of personal taste, it's a scientific fact that Doug Rock is some of the worst music on the planet. Some of its defining qualities are:

-- Band members who take themselves way too seriously.
-- Crunchy guitars backing up wussified, cry-baby, lyrics.
-- An obsession with power ballads.

Doug Rock bands are still fascinated by the "tender aqoustic riff" to set up the "crashing electric guitar climax". This trick is to Doug Rock, what arpeggios are to 80's metal:

It's a good trick, but lazy. It's like in movies when they kill the dog. Killing the dog makes everyone cry. It doesn't matter how good the movie is or what its about. Killing the dog makes us all sad. But you cant kill the dog in every movie, and Doug Rock bands leave behind mountains of dog carcasses.

Before I continue it would probably be prudent to talk about where the term Doug Rock comes from. A good place to start would be to ask, "which came first, Doug or Doug Rock?" It would appear that Doug came first...some 33 years or so ago.

Doug Rock bust onto the scene in the late 90's...a terrible by-product of those sensitive times.

The term "Doug Rock" was born (as you might have guessed) after I met my friend Doug and realized he had a special talent for enjoying the worst music on the face of the planet. He's not a bad guy...but he likes evil music. If you could smell music...Doug's music would smell like the worst farts you've ever smelt.

The tricky thing about Doug Rock is that its not a simple matter of looking at Doug's ipod and simply applying DR label to every thing you see there. Doug likes some good music. To help you avoid that sort of pitfall lets get into the history of Doug Rock and give you some classic examples.

Surprising Beginings:

A friend of mine asked me the other day, "Is Pearl Jam Doug Rock?". It's a good question with a subtle and complicated answer. The short version is: no. Pearl Jam is NOT Doug Rock, but Pearl Jam is RESPONSIBLE for Doug Rock. It's not the first time something bad started out as something good. The devil was the best of all angels before falling into hell. This is a good way to look at Pearl Jam. A signature band of the 90's; highly successful and critically acclaimed.But with their distinctive style and great success came the copy cats. Bands like Stone Temple Pilots released albums that were pretty similar. For the record, STP avoids the Doug Rock label...but only just barely.

Then in 1993...Candlebox arrives on the scene. Their insipid and uninspired melodrama heralds the arrival of a new style of music. An atrocity that we now know as Doug By the way, Candlebox's web-site is laughably addressed as: "candleboxrocks". Seriously. That's not a joke. Someone should go to prison for that.

Anyway their first album went quadruple platinum and music execs started falling over themselves to sign every long-haired, Nancy-boy in a flannel.

The next year Kurt Cobain died and to fill the void we got even more pretenders. Topping the list is the "Live" and "Bush" (these bands could be better named as "Pretentious" and "Vapid" respectively)

Live:

Bush:This is really the "golden age" of Doug Rock. If you could pull off that Vedder-ish "mumbly-growl" and sing about how pathetic you were, you could probably get yourself a polished music video and a gold record.

We close out this era in the late 90's with Creed. Who give us the same old shitty songs and cement the idea that mono-syllabic, one-word band-names go hand in hand with dull music.

What a bunch of fuckin wankers!

Seriously if you've watched all these and you HAVEN'T stabbed yourself in the ears yet...your either incredibly strong, or simply lobotomized.

Finally 2000 came around. I'd have hoped that the new Millennium (which I suppose was technically still a year off) would bring about the end of Doug Rock...but it was only the beginning. In fact 2001 gave us the breakout hit for what is really the GOLD STANDARD in Doug Rock. As you might expect...this musical sin comes from the same country that gave us Bryan Adams...that's right. Canada. People in Canada are just too nice to do rock n' roll correctly. For your consideration...I give you.

Nickleback:unbelievable. On the other hand...Nickleback shows us why the Portuguese are such a great people:

awesome. awesome. awesome. Hats off to you Portugal. You did what had to be done.

Nickleback ushered in a whole new era. Some bands try to disguise themselves as "nu Metal"...but they can't hide from me. I know Doug Rock when I see it. I'm talking to you P.O.D. you and your fucking "Charger's Anthem" that jinxed the bolts in the playoffs of 2006/07.

P.O.D. is actually a sorta subset of Doug Rock. It's a specialized set of crap that includes shitty rap-rock bands that wish they could be "Rage Against the Machine" (as opposed to Pearl Jam). Your Limp Bizkits, your Salivas, your Linkin Parks. They all belong to this subset. It's not Doug Rock "proper" but it's certainly worth mentioning.

Now that we are officially moving in the latter half of the first decade of this century...there are sadly no signs that Doug Rock is letting up:

Puddle of Mudd:3 Doors Down:

I mean it's unbelievable. I could go on forever. There's even an American Idol Doug Rock:

I mean...it just gets worse and worse and it must be stopped. Now I know that we all have guilty pleasures. I'll listen to a Doug Rock song now and then. I mean...the shit's got unintentional comedic value that is off the charts. But I think the time has come for us to take a cue from our brothers and sisters in Portugal. It's time to start throwing rocks people. Aim for the shaggy dome.

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 06:35:00 +0000

Rain is Pourin', Touchdown Scorin'

I am a workin' fool lately. All those late nights, weekend grinds, really started to wear a fella down. All that time in the office seemed to obliterate my workout regime/active lifestyle or whatever and it just made me tired and grumpy. I can't remember being so irritable in a long time. This last project culminated in one all-nighter right before the deadline that finally knocked me down.

Its yet another reminder that I am in fact getting older like a normal person. I just can't bounce back from that shit anymore. It took me about 3 days to get normal.

So where was I? I think I was going to tell you a Sean-do story.

I have long history of beating Sean at video games (yes, what an accomplishment!). Back in the 8-bit era we used to play a lot of "2-player" Super Mario Brothers. I put "2-player" in quotes because Super Mario Bros was as a 2-player game in the same way that 2 people masturbating, in separate rooms, at separate times, is sex.

Okay so maybe a different metaphor would sound less like incest.

Anyway. 2-player Super Mario Bros was intensely boring since you weren't really competing with one another. You were just taking turns at the regular one-player game. You didn't get to play until the other guy died. This created a fun little meta-game for me called, "How to trick Luigi-Sean into killing himself".

Me: I'm telling you Sean, I read it in Nintendo Power. You jump down that third hole and you actually get 10 free lives. It's awesome. I did it yesterday.

Sean: You are such a liar.

Me: No dude I'm telling you. THIS time I'm telling the truth. 10 free lives.

Luigi: *death beeps*

Sean: YOU JERK!

Me: Looks like it's my turn!

Sean: *stomps out of the room*

Now-a-days Sean and I compete most often in Madden Football. Madden video football is actually the game that got me interested in real NFL football and I've been playing it pretty avidly since 1994 or so. I've had a long relation ship with the game. Ran a few work tournaments (which I never managed to win...folded in the play-offs every year), and had a number of epic games with Discostup, I'm no expert, but a decent player.

I'm not sure what bit we are in these days. I think they stopped keeping track with the N64.

Regardless of the bits, the one-sided video-contest between my brother and I continues. I'm pretty sure Seando has never beaten me in Madden.

Recently both of us picked up PS3s. Sean was here in town visiting and found out that I had yet to purchase Madden this year and started talking all cocky. I don't know if he thought he was safe...or maybe he figured he'd gotten a jump on me since I hadn't played in a while...but he actually uttered these words, "Too bad you don't have Madden so I could beat the shit out of you in it."

We were in the car on the way to the game store within five minutes of this comment.

So how'd those first games go? Well I was indeed a lil rusty. I hadn't really played much madden in the past couple years. I couldn't remember any of my defensive adjustment tricks -- Line shifts, and hot routes...all that stuff was out the door. In the old days I had my offense set up and good to go. A scripted opening of 10 or so plays. I could read defenses had my dump-off receivers planned and could execute in the running game (although I always struggled against the zone-blitz).

None of that was firing on all cylinders that day.

I beat Sean in our first game by something obscene. like 30 points or something. These are 5 minutes quarters we are talking about here.

We played 3 or 4 games like that with one exception (Sean had a lead on me for 3 quarters only to give up like 3 or 4 touchdowns in the final 2 minutes. It was horrible...I couldn't stop laughing).

So Sean gave up for the moment. I thought it was over. But he calls me a few days later and tells me he wants to get on on-line game going. Fine.

Let me say one thing about Madden on-line. What a suck-fest. Everything that is fun and exciting about Madden football is destroyed by online competition. It's slow, and laggy and just plain stupid.

Sean loves it though...even when I continue to slaughter him over and over again. Marshall Faulk comes on before each game to predict the score. I think he bases his predictions partially on the teams each player chooses but also on their past performance as a "coach". Faulk was starting to give me +25 points in his pre-game prognostications.

The one good thing about on-line madden is that I have a working microphone hooked up to my PS3 and Sean doesn't. Which means I can trash-talk Sean the whole game and he's powerless to strike back. Its even more fun to imagine him throwing temper tantrums after giving up yet another red-zone interception.

Don't take this gloating the wrong way. Sean's winless online last I checked...and that's in like 20 or 30 games.

So if you are looking to pad your madden stats a lil (and you actually like playing on-line) look up "punkace". He'll be playing the Niners and dropping F-bombs like no tomorrow.

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 20:16:00 +0000

Do you Wanna Play With Me?

There is something of a renaissance going on in my house right now. One that no doubt rivals the importance of the rebirth in Europe throughout the 15th and 16th century...or not. A combination of Team Fortress 2 on the PC and my recent console upgrade to a playstation 3 has reignited my passion for video games. Or more specifically...video games beyond World of Warcraft.

I'll admit that one of the factors in choosing a playstation 3 versus an Xbox 360 was a bit of the ol' company loyalty. I mean fuck. I'm not gonna kill myself every day working on these titles only to go buy a system that I can't even play them on. Now that Blu Ray seems to be emerging as everybody's favorite next-gen video format...all the better.

Now that I have one I am more and more happy with the purchase. Here's a couple quick thoughts.

Eye of Judgment:
EoJ is essentially a card game sort of along the lines of Magic (it's collectible, with deck building as part of the strategies). The twist is that you play (with playing cards) and your PS3. EoJ comes with a USB "eye" camera that connects to your console. When you play a card, the "eye" scans it and sends it to your television:

It's really pretty cool, and there seems like a lot of potential here. The game itself is surprisingly good. My only problem with is is that the world it's set in is kinda generic. Dare I say it, but some sort of license would have been a great addition (and selling point). If you have a PS3 and buy this game...check out the packaging it comes in...specifically the pictures of people playing the game:

I don't remember posing for this picture...but that's gotta be me (the white guy) right? Someone owes me some cash.

The USB "eye" that comes with the game opens up all sorts of gaming opportunities via the Playstation Network. There are a number of titles that are specifically designed to work with this gizmo. Some are more passive (like virtual aquariums), but there are a couple fun, cheap little games that I quite like. My favorite of these so far is a game called Operation Creature Feature (I think it's a 4 or 5 dollar download):

It's got a sorta "lemmings" feel to it. Aside from the novelty of interacting directly with the game world via body movements, it's got a cool visual style to boot. Highly recommended.

I've played a couple more "standard" and "Serious" games as well. Heavenly Sword was pretty good despite the fact that you can't really jump. It's got outstanding visuals and great implementation of the "sixaxis" controller (that responds to how you move it) during sequences that allow you to guide arrows or cannon-balls like a homing missile. It's unfortunate that the final boss fight was kinda a let down...often devolving into a big, blind, button-mashing party.

Fwats also kicked me down a copy of Assasin's Creed. We all pretty much creamed ourselves at E3 a couple years back when this trailer released:

Creed's strong points: The ability to throw people from rooftops (I can't really explain why this is so fun), the Parkour style of movement and climbing, The incredibly intriguing story-line set in Medieval Palestine, working behind the scenes to prevent the crusades, the Hashshashin, the Templars...gripping.

Creed's weak points: Future town. For some reason they take this rich, detailed, medieval world and constantly take you OUT of it and bring you to this futuristic, sparsely-decorated, apartment where your movement controls suck and you get yelled at by a random bearded guy. So lame.

One last thing about Assasin's Creed. Turns out the producer is beautiful. Fwats. Seriously. Hook me up.

I'm not kidding.

Anyway I finished those two epic adventures and now I'm starting Resistance: Fall of Man -- A first person shooter that is in no way influenced by Half-Life 2...except for the fact that it's nearly fucking identical.

Fine by me tho. I love Half-Life.

Resistance (so far at least) is mostly sorta "OK". I mean it gets the job done. Nothin fancy. Plus playing an FPS with a game controller / joystick (as opposed to mouse and keyboard) is like trying to eat soup with a fork.

Finally there is Rock Band. How wonderful it is. I know a lot of people are reporting problems with their guitars but mine seems to work pretty well. My foot-pedal for the drum-kit broke but some super glue, a random metal thing I found at Home Depot and some Gorilla Tape (the strongest tape there is) fixed it right up.

Once again the Downloadable Content is where it's at for me. I LOVE the fact that new songs get released every week. Sure it's a cash-sucking scam when you compare the cost of 30 single downloads to the 30 tracks that come with the game. But fuck it. I'm obviously willing to pay.

The online gameplay is pretty neat too (though nothing compares to bringing a group of wanna-be rockers into a room together).

The standard slam you hear against Rock Band, or Guitar Hero and the fags that play it is that the time spent mastering each song in the video game is better served actually learning the instrument.

No argument from me really. The problem of course is that's true of a lot of things:

Time spent downloading new music (better spent learning an instrument)
Time spent watching music videos (better spent learning an instrument)
Time spent dancing to music in front of the mirror (better spent learning an instrument)
Time spent watching a live music performance (better spent learning an instrument)

My point is that Guitar Hero / Rock Band is really just another way to enjoy music so fuck off and allow me my fun.

Hmmm. I really wanted to tell you a story about my brother but that will have to wait for next time. Till then!

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 08:38:00 +0000

I've Been A Victim Of A Selfish Kind Of Love

Welcome to 2008. It is the new year and I could resolve to write more blog posts, but that would probably doom this blog to a complete melt down. My resolutions pretty much always fail. I like to think that's because I'm mostly perfect and it's just so damned hard to improve on something so grate...er...great.

Mostly it's because I'm lazy.

Last year I resolved to take a more active role in my community, and to devote more of my time to charity. I looked up a few options on-line and everything I found wanted me to take a class or sign some papers or some shit. I just wanted to show up somewhere and get to helpin'. Not really possible it seems. Really though I have no good excuses for being self absorbed all year.

Which leads me to the next issue. I have recently realized that my entire life is devoted to leisure. I spend pretty much every waking hour in the pursuit of some sort of hobby, game, or entertainment. Even my job (working in video games) is devoted to leisure. It's my sole purpose for being.

Sometimes I clean my house. That's not too fun.

Otherwise I have so much in the way of pastimes that I don't have time for all of it. I recently got myself a Playstation 3 and thanks to my job and the connections there I've already got a sizable library of new and un-played video games. I've got a DVR FULL (72%) of unwatched TV shows and a Netflix subscription that is totally going to waste. There's too many concerts I'll miss. Too many books I'll never read. More than a couple board games that await their first trip out of the box. There is plenty of traveling to do, ocean to surf, soccer to play, rocks to climb, etc etc.

Somewhere in-between all that there's still smokin' hot chicks who need my attention. Or so I've been told.

I'm obviously far too busy pleasuring myself to give my time to random strangers with real problems. I think if I was any sort of a decent person I'd follow through on that resolution from 2 years ago already.

Speaking of pleasuring yourself. Here is a riddle for you (based on a conversation I had last year):

A woman goes into a sex-shop. She buys something and you get to guess what that something is. Here are your hints:

1) NOT something you wear.
2) NOT something intended for arousal.
3) NOT something you read or watch.
4) NOT contraception.
5) Something that WILL contact the genitals.

Those of you who know the answer, don't spoil it for others.

So 2007 is over and it was quite a year for me and my single-nes. I'm still trying to figure out if it was a good year or a bad year. Feels like bad year. Started off bad.

There was certainly a fair amount of activity overall. I hit the internet dating scene pretty hard for a while with mixed results. Made a friend at least. Went back to some more "old school" methods and thought I had found one or two encouraging leads. Didn't quite pan out. One was particularly disappointing but such is life.

My family continues to hit on strange women for me. Everyone seems to be taking a turn at this practice (originally pioneered by my grandmother at a local Chili's). Most recent victim is some poor 20-year old over at Nordstrom. My dad just shakes his head with bewilderment. "We found this really cute girl" he'll say (as if she was a stray cat) "but he (meaning me) refuses to call her!". It's like I'm refusing to procreate just to spite them.

The other thing I heard a few times in 2007 is what a hot commodity I should be. People who tell me this:

1) My Family
2) Married Women
3) Old Married Women

Apparently a single guy like me, at my age, with my myriad qualities, this is when I'm supposed to "bloom". I'm prime meat. Grade-A, super-awesome.

It's not that I don't believe the hype. It's just that people have been telling me this for years. "wait till you are a senior in high school." "wait till you get to college." "wait till you stop waiting tables." "wait till your 30".

I keep peaking and peaking all over again (which makes me dyn-o-mite in the sack!)

Anyway. The search goes on. If all that sounded as pitiful as I fear, the next part will probably read like someone "talking themselves into something". Trust me -- I'm pretty far from miserable. I just suspect that my stumbling little journey through singledom is kinda amusing.

I feel like I'm in a good place. Yea would kinda like someone to share it with, but until that someone comes along I've got plenty to keep me busy and good friends to hang out with. You can see some of those people here in my photo set from New Years:

Happy oh-08 Everyone!

-E

PS. I resolve to write more blog entries this year.

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 22:16:00 +0000

This Fire Is Outta Control, I'm Gonna Burn This City

Normally it takes me a little bit of searching to find my title tracks for each post but in this case there was a wealth of options. Here are some of the other contenders:

Through Fire and Flames:

Ring of Fire:

My Ass is on Fire:

Jump in the Fire:

Burning Down The House:

and many more.

So yes. As I spoke of briefly in my last post, we've had a hell of a week. The dry conditions and Santa Ana winds here in San Diego were the right ingredients for what the Governator cleverly called "a perfect firestorm". Evacuations were going on all over the county (some mandatory, some voluntary) and most of us were either displaced or were on the verge of displaced. Many, many people lost their homes. A few lives were lost.

I have to say that the emergency services really seemed to have their act together. Agencies appeared to be well organized, well prepared, and given the scope of this disaster...things seemed to go pretty smoothly. I think there were quite a few houses that were saved this year that would have been lost in the last round of wildfires.

One thing I would be critical of however is the television news coverage of the event. It may come as a surprise to some, but the news coverage tended to be more sensational rather than informative. Most of the news coverage consisted of having people call in live. The graphics on the screen would display the name and location of the caller along with a little "LIVE: BREAKING NEWS" icon in the corner. Meanwhile the actual imagery would all be pre-recorded video from all over the county. So you would look up and see "LIVE: FROM SAN MARCOS" but the video would be 12 hours old from Poway. Really responsible fucking journalism.

My other "favorite" moments of the TV news coverage involved one of the local channels and their "on the scene" reporter. Basically they had this guy running around along-side actual fire fighters and trying to interview them while they were busy...you know...saving homes and lives and shit. Unreal. The guy would seriously run up to some dude in a mask, holding a fire hose and ask shit like, "How difficult is it to fight this fire that has been 0% contained for three days now?" The firefighter would just sorta grunt in disbelief and run off to some new disaster.

Another interesting side-effect from all this was watching how local kids reacted to it. A couple of families who got forced to evacuate ended up at my dad's place down the street. One family had a couple of boys. I don't have a lot of experience with kids, but I can guess what happens to them when they are forced out of their homes and get couped up inside for three days.

They go crazy.

For the few hours I was at my dads house I became a living jungle gym. It's kinda fun for a while but kids with that kinda energy have a lot of momentum and are pretty much impossible to slow down once you get 'em going.

I also saw a number of families at the supermarket. All their kids were going bonkers as well. It just made me realize how much energy it must take to be a parent and that I had better get started soon if I ever expect to have enough "exuberance" to keep up with any kids of my own.

Anyway. Most of the area seems to be safe now. Life is returning to normal for a lot of us. Other people are less fortunate and have a long road ahead of them. I can't imagine it's very fun to rebuild your house and deal with insurance companies. My heart goes out to those families. Help out if you can!

Here are my pictures from the whole week:

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 03:51:00 +0000

Fire

Just a quick note to let anyone who might be concerned that I am ok. So far no one in my area has had to be evacuated. For the moment we are not in danger.

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 17:31:00 +0000

So Much For My Happy Ending.

Yesterday I had my first massage. A lot of people love the massage. It's supposed to feel good. It's supposed to be relaxing. It's supposed to be good for you. I've always been a little uncomfortable letting a stranger go to town on me in such a "familiar" way. I'm rather ticklish. Also I'm afraid of getting a boner in the middle of the whole thing.

But I had a rough day yesterday and my body -- especially my left arm and wrist -- has just felt a little wrecked and out of whack for a while and my dad insisted that I give the massage a go.

I figured I could assuage my biggest fears (the ones relating to blood flow) by just "takin' care of business" myself before heading out (it occurs to me that maybe it's this sort of behavior that's giving my left arm so much trouble and NOT all the computer usage like I first thought).

With that dirty deed taken care of I head off to some small "alternative wellness center" in Carlsbad. I enter the building and the surroundings inside make me instantly skeptical. Smelly soaps, and candles adorn the shelves along side the myriad of new age self-help books. The soft, soothing, and vaugley "ethnic" sounds of Yanni style music fills the air. Blech. I guess it's too much to expect a lil RJD2 or Thievery Corporation.

Eventually I find myself mostly naked on that strange table with that toilet seat thing you put your face in at the end of it and the touching begins. Due to the masseuse using both her forearms and hands, along with some sort of oil or lubricant, my initial thoughts on the experience was that it felt like I was getting a tongue bath from a couple of elephants. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant...just weird.

The rest of the experience vacillated between slightly painful, sorta ticklish, and vaguely uncomfortable with splashes of genuine relaxation. I felt like I was doing something that was good for me...but I'm not sure I completely "enjoyed" the whole experience. My body definitely feels better today AND I managed to avoid an embarrassing moment Vis-à-vis my genitals. So that's a win-win-win.

It's been a long time since my last post and between than and now I have somehow managed to get myself into another failed relationship. Unlike the last one, this one ended less pleasantly for me (not that the last one ended like a day at Disneyland, but it wasn't a kick in the pants either). I can't remember being with a person who seemed so compatible. Who seemed to fit my life and my values so well. It all sorta crashed down so abruptly too. One day I was being told how amazingly fantastic I was and the next day I was told to hit the road.

I guess that makes it sound a little bit stranger than it actually is. The person I was dating has some health issues and decided (for the both of us I guess) that I shouldn't be dragged down by her problems. So...I don't really know what to say to that. I was really happy being with her. Maybe those problems would have eventually gotten to me. Maybe I'm better off without that complication. It didn't seem like it as of a couple of days ago. It doesn't seem like it today.

So...yes. The title track for today's blog has a double meaning! 1) A (not-so)funny joke about massages and 2) Also my life is a trite teenage drama.

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Mon, 27 Aug 2007 06:21:00 +0000

That's enough sitting on the fence For the fear of breaking dams

Time to close another chapter in the sweeping epic that is my love life. The lawyer and I decided that things just weren't going to work out and so we amicably decided to split.

Our relationship was never all that serious (we were never exclusive) but I was spending a lot of time with her and it had gotten to the point where we had to decide whether or not to take the next step. We decided against it.

My thoughts leading up to this were similar to those leading up to my eventual break-up with my last really serious girlfriend (H-bomb). In both situations I didn't have too many problems with the person I was with, it was a matter of not experiencing the right sort of "connection". That profound bond that keeps two people together for the long-run just didn't seem to be there.

The lawyer was fun, open-minded, and has a great overall attitude. I liked spending time with her but at the end of the day I couldn't see myself falling in love.

I'm confident that this was the right decision (plus she was thinking along the exact same lines so it clearly wasn't in the cards), but there is a splinter in the back of my mind that's troubling me. It certainly seems that the girls I have been most interested in lately are the ones that are running away. I really don't want to be one of those people who only want the person who they can't have. I hope this absence of "connection" that I experienced with the Lawyer is real and not just my way of fooling myself -- a way of putting a more acceptable face on the whole situation.

Anyway I'm back to square one now. The whirlwind dating scene of the last month seems to have built itself to this less-than-spectacular little "thud" rather than a glorious crescendo.

I suppose that I now have more time for video games.

-B

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:20:00 +0000

The Breaks are Good, Tires Fair.

Most of what I know about early or "primitive" cultures comes from games like Age of Empires or Civilization. For instance, I know that pottery always comes before grain storage and that every once in a while some spear-wielding, barbarian, warrior will shoot down one of your F-16s.

I also get the sense that one requirement for technological advancement and industrialization is specialization. That is to say that to bring about all the playstations and internets and Automatic Teller Machines requires highly skilled people. People who really only have time to develop the (bow hunting) skills necessary to bring these wondrous devices to life. Therefore you have a lot of people using a lot of equipment, who know next to nothing about how they work.

This is why I allow mechanics to rape me. I know very little about my car. I do know that it always seems to cost way more money when I bring it in working than when I bring it in broken. I feel like any time I limp into the service department -- engine smoking and sparks belching from the exauhst pipe -- Mr. Mechanic says something like, "Oh! All you need is this new belt and a bit of chewing gum and your good to go. 50 bucks please."

Today I brought my car in (a few months and a few thousand miles beyond my service warranty) for it's standard oil change service (which by itself is ridiculously high priced) and an hour later the guy started breaking down 10 or 12 other things that weren't broken but "required immediate attention" to the tune of about 2 thousand dollars.

(it's really the end of this clip that's relevant)

Nothing like a swift kick to the nuts to start your morning off.

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 07:09:00 +0000

Voldemort Can't Stop the Rock

Well the Harry Potter series has finally come to and end. I finished The Deathly Hallows last night and spoiler free to boot. So for all the rest of you who have already finished it it's safe to talk to me again :)

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Wed, 08 Aug 2007 19:08:00 +0000

The Simpsons

In 1987 I was 12 years old. The USA and USSR were in the wanning years of a "cold war". Ronald Regan was my countries president. Lethal Weapon and Good Morning Vietnam were top films. Wang Chung was popular while bands like Nirvana and Alice in Chains were just being formed. The first Mega Man game and the first Legend of Zelda game was released for the Nintendo Entertainment System. While the Cosby Show was what everyone was watching, the Fox network also made it's debut this year and gave us shows like "21 Jump Street" and "Married With Children". Alongside those offerings was the Tracy Ulman Show -- a variety show that included some crudely animated shorts about a family called the Simpsons.

20 years later I am 32 years old and the Simpson family is still with us. There are few things in pop culture with that kinda staying power. I basically grew up with that show. I was watching the Simpsons before I was Bar Mitzvah. Which I think means I was close to Bart's age. Now I'm closer to Homer's age.

In 1992 when Bart falls in love for the first time I was dating my first girlfriend. A television experience that provided valuable insight for years to come.

A year later Homer returned to college the same year I entered UOP as a freshman. Certainly this program would prepare me for all the exciting challenges that were ahead.

hmmm....funny because it's true.

It's true that the quality of the Simpsons program has declined a bit since it's heyday. I don't watch the show religiously like I once did. I still catch it now and than and it's still good for a chuckle or two. Tonight I'll be going to see the new Simpsons movie to see how 20 years of solid character development, smart satire, and jokes about donuts translates to the big screen.

My expectations aren't really all that high, but they aren't all that low either. I'm really just sorta curious to see how it all plays out. I do feel like at this point it's probably time for the Simpsons to retire and take it's place in Pop Culture history. I'd rather it go out like Brett Farve a couple years ago (still got something to offer but on the downward slope) rather than Brett Farve now (what the fuck!?) *shudder*

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Mon, 30 Jul 2007 21:54:00 +0000

I Wanna Devise a Virus to Bring Dire Straits To Your Environment.

Here's a story about my brother. I spent the weekend in Reno visiting with him, his son, and my mom. I love my brother but he is a hard guy to get along with. He's sullen, and negative, moody, and (quite frankly) pretty self-centered. If you can get past all that and get him to lighten-up a little he's an alright guy.

He's recently gone through some difficult times with his ex-girlfriend and is currently living with my mom. Most of my visits to Reno are focused on seeing my mom and I get very little time to hang out with Sean. Not this visit. Sean and I even hit the town on a couple of the nights I was there. One of these outings involved a piano bar. I suppose the piano bar thing is fun if you can get past the fact that the people on stage are only one-step above wacky morning DJs. The whole experience was just that much more surreal when experienced with my brother. His personality doesn't really mesh well with that goofy party atmosphere.

One of the highlights of Sean time came when he asked me to take a look at his "broken" computer. In this case "broken" means "completely infested with viruses and spy-ware". I looked things over, cracked my knuckles, and advised my brother to get comfortable as this would take a while.

So began a long painful process of uninstalling a ton of programs (including a ridiculous piece of software that disguised itself as an anti-virus tool but really pasted ads up all over your windows), setting up anti-virus, running virus scans, etc.

The whole time my brother is pissing and moaning about how terrible his machine is and what a "piece of crap" he has to deal with.

I try to explain to him that even though viruses and spy-ware can be very sneaky, his problems were mostly the result of being an irresponsible user. This of course was an insult to him. He would reply in a voice full of shock and outrage, "I know how to use the internet. I didn't do anything wrong".

(This leads me to another on of his more charming traits. Dishonesty and defensiveness.)

"Sean" I said, "Look at this keyboard! Does this look like the keyboard of a responsible user!?"

My brother stood silent for a moment and than mumbled, "I guess I'll go buy another keyboard". He went off to Best Buy while I stayed behind and let the Virus scan do it's thing (it came up with over 200 objects and 15 trojans). He also didn't have any drivers installed for his video card which was putting a damper on the machines performance as well.

After about 2 or 3 hours I had the machine running great. I gave him a number of helpful instructions on how to avoid this stuff in the future and left him to surf the internet.

I wandered back into the room a few minutes later and found him hunched over the keyboard with a look of frustration across his face. Moving to see what happened I notice (amongst the myriad of pop-up windows springing up across the screen) that Sean had installed one of those random search engine tool bars onto his firefox browser.

So I lost it.

"SEAN! What the FUCK is that doing there?"

"What?"

"That fucking random-ass tool bar on your browser?! Why did you download that?!"

"I DIDN'T!"

At this point I blow my brains out. Or at least I wanted to.

How am I related to this guy again?

-E

noreply@blogger.com (eryn_roston@yahoo.com) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 22:02:00 +0000

Lay Your Coconut on my Tiki

Maui. What a place. In the olden days I went to Maui every Christmas, but it's been a while since I was there. About 15 years I guess. On this particular trip we had a pretty big group with us. We were kinda like a cult that took over a small condo place on the beach in Kihei.

We did a lot of Snorkeling (saw lots of turtles and even a bat ray) and swimming. I manged to get a day of surfing in at a mellow longboarding spot just south of Lahaina. All good stuff.

One of the things I couldn't help but notice was the amount of trim, beautiful, women hangin on the arms of dorky, pudgy, dudes. I know this is Maui we are talking about -- playground for the affluent -- so I guess the first reaction is "trophy wife". However I'm not sure that's entirely the best explanation. My second suspicion is that these are east coasters. Now I know there are plenty of dorky west coast types (yours truly for example) and I'm sure there are a lot of east coast hunks, but I get the feeling that east coast dudes in general aren't quite up to So. Cal standards.

Of course there were plenty of dorky chicks on the Maui beaches too:

Here are a few more pics:

and my favorite:

click on this to see the whole set:

-E