hunting magic?

eat

2011-01-05T08:46:00.003-06:00

click dat

you may find yourself

2010-04-20T09:57:00.000-05:00

Bring your favorite reflective object, flashlight, noise maker, etc. Video will be posted afterwards.

Dear Grandpa Ed and Gam-Gam

2010-02-15T11:35:00.000-06:00

I have a day off of work for the first time in a long while so I figured I should catch up on our long overdue correspondence. I am in Munich still, at least until the end of the month when I will move to Berlin. My German is coming along slowly but surely although the winter weather seems resolutely eternal. As long as the radiator is on though, let me share one part of my experience here in southern Germany with you back in the southern States.

Enclosed you will find coasters from three different breweries of varying fame and reputation. Now, as you may or may not know, the city of Munich is named after the Benedictine monks who, back in the 12th century, decided to settle here near a bridge that had been built over the Isar. Evidently, a lot of these Benedictines (as well as some Jesuits) had a knack for brewing.

This brings us to our first coaster, from the Andechs Abbey which is located about 45 minutes outside of Munich by a combination of the public train and bus system. They have been brewing beer here since 1455 and as you can tell by the decor of their baroque / rococo church, they have been quite successful.

Though the clergy has been quite a secular success, I should note that their church is significantly smaller than their beer hall. Also, I didn't take too much of a liking to their beer though that might be in part because I accidentally ordered a 14 euro piece of pork fit for a viking.

On the way home I spoke with an elderly gentleman wearing traditional Bavarian garb (dark green coat and hat, no leiderhosen this time); upon my showing him the Andechs coaster, he enthusiastically proclaimed his love of and regular attendance at Anders. He went on to say that although he often drank a fair deal at the beerhall, he had never been hassled by the polizei on the way home. I wondered why though, if he was a Catholic as he claimed to be, why he would not let his drink wear off at the service just next door.

This brings us to the second coaster, that of the glowing woman a-top a barrel and hoisting her Maß (i.e. liter size beer stein) above her head. In the cloudy distance, beyond Our Lady of Haidhausen, you may glimpse the city's famous twin steeples above which no building may rise. This little rule is but a minor component of the Bavarian's oft-argued case that his state, and perhaps Germany altogether, is in fact religious, traditional et cetera et cetera despite Europe's reputation for atheistic decadence. This rule is but a minor gesture however when compared with the draconian ordinance that no businesses may operate on the Sabbath. No banks, no grocery stores, no barbershops, no Mediamarkt. You would in fact be well advised to spend a fair part of your Saturday preparing for the following day's drought of goods and services.

Perhaps I have overstated my case. Bakeries are open for a bit of the morning, the cinema still runs, and most cafes and bars open up at night. But Bavarians generally have little choice but to rest or worship come Sunday.

And worship they do. But they are not all found in the pew but rather at the table, enjoying a healthy breakfast at the beerhall, such as the one at Unions-bräu. Here, they gather to consume not the traditional body and blood of Christ, but rather the brew and bread of everyday meat and wheat, namely Weisswurst, Weissbier and big delicious pretzels. The main prayers, 'Prost!' and 'Oans, Zwoa, G'suffa!' (i.e. a slurred version of 'One, Two, Chug!'), are shouted rather than sung.

This, plus a liter or two of beer

Side note: Weisswurst, a sausage of pork, minced veal, and spices, traditionally served with a German-spicy mustard, is considered to be a particularly Bavarian specialty, so much so that the Germans have considered dividing the country according to the Weisswurstaquator. It's exact location is a subject of some debate.

Though the truly Bavarian way to eat Weisswurst is supposedly to cut a hole in one end of the casing and suck the contents out (i.e. to 'zuzeln') whenever I have mentioned this, people act like they have never heard of it and then proceed to lay waste to my sexual dignity. But I digress.

Unions-Bräu has become a personal favorite not only for their logo, breakfast, and proximity to our apartment but also because they have Dixie Jazz on weekend nights and their beer tastes like butterscotch. It's magic.

Finally, I draw your weary attention to the relatively minimal coaster of Hofrbräuhaus. They can get away with this sort of understatement because half of the time when you tell someone that you have been to Munich, he will ask if you have been to the Hofrbäuhaus. If you answer yes, his next question will clarify beyond a doubt whether he is in fact a German. The non-German will ask if you knew that Hitler had his first rally there which of course you did because that's why you went there in the first place. The German, on the other hand, will ask if you liked the traditional food and you will say yes because you are polite and actually can't remember because you were not accustomed to ordering beer by the liter.

(One particularly daft foreigner, who a few months ago regrettably had me in his employ as an assistant at a trade show, was laying out the 20th century history of the Hofbräuhaus to his booth-neighbor, a first time visitor to this fair city, and then went on to claim that the Third Reich tour was also an absolutely essential stop for the first time visitor. This exchange wouldn't be all that exceptional except that a German client had been silently sharing in this conversation and was becoming noticeably on edge. My perceptive employer thus reached out to the German, inquiring whether he knew anything about 'that,' this 'that' alluding to some equally nefarious and vague antecedent, to which the German quipped, 'Oh, I am not old enough to know about all of 'that'.' Indeed.)

OK, that concludes my short survey of Bavarian breweries. I should add that the Hofbräu brew, in particular, proves that the Germans really do draft a superior beer; it's both light and flavorful, a combination that remains forever elusive to our American counterparts. I consider this perhaps one of the most significant sacrifices our people have suffered in our attempts to separate church and state.

Your Errant Grandson,

PS. Thanks for the X-mas present. I know I am a little late. I seem to have adopted a German bureaucrat's disregard for prompt reply.

2010 Shane Wood Calendar

2010-01-16T12:08:00.008-06:00

Download the PDF here. You will need 13 sheets of paper plus a few for potential misprints. Below are instructions for printing at home if you have a good color printer. If you don't, go to your local copy shop with the file and they should assist you. Please excuse the creative spelling during the month of July. Also, please note that unlike the original run of the 2009 calendar, this is a wall calendar, not a booklet calendar, do to the number of pages and my haste in deleting the word file. C'est la vie.

1. Open the PDF in Adobe.

2. Select 'Print'. 'Page Scaling' > 'Booklet Printing'. 'Booklet Subset' > 'Both Sides'. Check 'Auto-Rotate Pages'. 'Binding' > 'Left'.

3. Now, you must go to your printer settings and choose Duplex printing as well. This means that you will print both sides of the page.

4. Unless you have a schmancy printer (i.e. one at work or school) you will need to sit at the printer and feed each page back into the machine as it comes out. You will probably have to press a button each time to. It might take some trial and error to get it to print on the correct side each time. Maybe print the first two pages as a test (i.e. one page front and back). Does that make sense?

2. Here we go:
File> Print.
Print Range: pages 2-25.
Page Handling>Page Scaling:'Multiple Pages per Sheet'.
Page Handling>Pages per Sheet: 2.
Check 'Auto-Rotate Pages'.

3. Take a gander at that little preview box and if it looks good, say 'PRINT.' Then click 'Print.'

4. Them pictures should print out just fine. Now if you want, you can print out them first and last pages (1,26) as the cover. Or as something you can mount somewhere? Or maybe as the last pages?

5. Get the pages in order and punch a hole through 'em at the top.

6. Find a thumb tack and hang the sucker.

7. Take a picture of you with your calendar and send it to Shane.

If you want to see the 2k9 calendar, you can download it here. Follow these same instructions to print it though that might be sorta creepy. Also, if you are ever making a booklet, make sure that your total number of pages is divisible by 4. And check your spelling.

5 level stack: West Loop and the Southwest Freeway

2009-12-19T09:17:00.006-06:00

Get Big

I miss this in a way. Also the idea that spending ~45 minutes driving in a loop around Houston could be an evening activity. Other Houstonian car culture memories: car tag, donuts, dragging on the spur, watching the traffic from Dunlavy bridge. Oh yeah, and the Westheimer draggers.

other stack interchanges
more on 610

Cheeky with Stephen Hawking

2009-12-09T04:24:00.003-06:00

'Stephen Hawking is obviously a very extraordinary story, and by the time we filmed him he could only move one muscle in his body, which is the muscle here on his cheek. And as he moves this muscle, he controls his voice box. But this is one of the most intelligent people in Britain who is studying the universe and yet his body has collapsed to the point where he can now only move his cheek. It is kind of odd meeting him. He is a hero obviously and yet he does not speak very much because it is such an effort to speak so he is a kind of captive audience. So I just talked to him for about an hour. I was a bit drunk when I met him, so I was just talking away and occasionally he would say, “Yes.” And so I thought he seemed to be enjoying it and so I kept on chatting.'

Taxonomy, Trekking, and Other Generalizations Like Bird-Keeping

2009-12-08T06:05:00.006-06:00

I have a ten minute walk to the office. Every morning I pass a cemetery, a tanning salon, the recycling containers, a youth center, a posh bike shop, a bar, and a music school. Across the street from the hospital, I enter my building and ascend four flights to the attic. Accouterments consist of a window (through which I occasionally see the MedAir copter), a plant, a fan, a couple of lamps, and an Ansel Adams poster. Oh, and Germans like to keep lots of Leitz folders. Like bookcases full of them. Not to mention email folders, network folders, etc. There's something to having a historical record you can be proud of I guess.

In fact, I have heard that German paintings always have something to do with history, the Italians with stories, the French/Spanish with beauty, and the Dutch, well, the Dutch just have observation. That was a Dutchmen speaking by the way. Is this what people mean when they take about cultural identity and European history?

Germans are also really into complicated diagrams and taxonomy. For more complicated diagrams and taxonomy, see Owen's brain in the links below.

At Marienplatz, I've seen this one man dressed in traditional Bavarian standing around with his large bike trailer. Not quite so out of the ordinary, until you notice the humongous goose at his side.

And just the other day on the U Bahn, all these people in my car were staring at this crusty as he got on. Now, I was surprised as the next guy (but probably more relieved too) to see a dreaded-out stinky jeanjacket crusty in Munich. But these people were really staring. Well, when the guy sat down, he began feeding the crow that was everso calmly perched on his arm and I thought to myself, oh, OK, this all makes sense now.

Also, you can never tell whether the Germans are trekking to the market or the mountains. Backpacks holding snowshoes, a hand-powered unicycle for the legless busker in a wheelchair. I'm talking headbands. I mean, let's drop by the chocolate shop and then why not a little trip up the Matterhorn, sure why not.

And oh, don't worry, that fur-wearing blonde who just rode by on her bike won't forgo even the leisurely bend to her forefingers as she presses that torch of freedom between her lips.

slayer says good morning

2009-12-07T08:02:00.002-06:00

Slayer Top 9....

wartezimmer

2009-11-23T05:21:00.004-06:00

This morning I had to go to the local tax office...My first head to head encounter with European Bureaucracy.

When I first arrived in Munich, I 'announced' my address and religion. I marked Roman Catholic because I figured it might help with the forthcoming visa app. I later learned that this flippant move would cost me an extra 3-9% of my forthcoming taxable income. So today we went. 3rd floor, a fluorescent room without an attendant. A little box with a button that you press in order to receive a piece of paper with your number. So you sit down and you wait looking out at the train yard, this stupid (albeit) real plant in the corner that seems to large, these metal benchseats, the people beside you whose only imaginable function is to delay your reaching the man behind the door and eventual flight to wherever. A half hour passes. People come go. The faces are now less familiar, fresher.

Suddenly my turn. H. is with me since i only speak ein wenig german. The official seems annoyed by my dumbness despite the fact that we have taken this fact into due consideration. He asks for my passport, whether I've been baptized (I lie or rather H. lies for me) he says we can go to the first floor in the next building in order to claim the error and we will maybe avoid the 30 euro fee. We pass the foreigners' office on the way over, its foreboding lines reminding me of the challenges further ahead. the faces and smells ... but luckily this is not our intended destination today. We continue to the burgersboro. Another box, room plant window and set of homo sapiens sapiens. This time there are four possible rooms and four corresponding signs displaying the currently recognized personnumbers. When the number changes a green light flashes next to it and an arpeggiated major chord of sine waves plays out, slightly detuning as in their decay. We reach the woman behind the door. Same questions different responses. Friendlier. I toy with her colored pencils and look at a child's drawing of a cat on her wall. She prints out numerous pages, fiddles with her silver sparkle ring and eventually asks me to sign a statement. I sign it proudly, in defiance of the peculiar and grotesque orthography emanating from my open passport.

KNUT KNUT, ein Ohn wämer für alle

2009-11-18T08:00:00.003-06:00

kleiner eisbär aus dem zooooooooooooo

alternate:

Ohn wämer = ear warmer = catchy

mechanical TV

2009-11-17T04:34:00.005-06:00

Perchten, Neo-Nazis, and St. Martin, Oh my!

2009-11-12T04:54:00.021-06:00

PROST! (if you don't look a toaster in the eyes, you get 7 years of bad sex.)

While the rest of the world binds itself ever more so tightly to the proverbial water-board of our latter day New Barbarism, some wily Germans have found solace in celebrating a lighthearted Pagan ritual, namely the Twelfth Night, a midwinter Fesitval for Perchta the Bavarian 'guardian of the beast.'

LONG LIVE MULTICULTURALISM!

On a strict diet of fish and gruel, dear Frau Perchta is said to roam the countryside of Bavaria and Austria between Christmas and the following Epiphany, checking in on children and servants along her merry way. The swan-footed maiden tenderly revisits jolly St. Nick's list of goodie-two-shoes and ne'er-do-wells, rewarding the former with a small silver coin, and the latter not with coal but rather a quick slitting of their bellies and the kind replacement of their guts with straw and stone. Young ladies are advised to pay special to spinning the entirety of their yearly portion of flax lest Frau Perchta become particularly enraged.

Black Forest! REPRESENT!

Although proto-Nazi 15th century Catholic priests condemned any celebration of Perchta, a group of enlightened 16th century men bravely revived our lovely Frau when they began assuming her dress so as to drive out bad spirits from their villages.

This is the way we ball.

I bet Alex Wiens is getting a visit from Frau Perchta AND Krampus (see below) this year.

'That's my Jesus, that's my man...' (check 3:15)

Oh, and check out these Wild Men of Oberstdorf!

Scaring young children, part of an ages old Bavarian tradition

Now, I know Germans don't like talking about Hitler, WW II or any of that concentration camp stuff (although they are still pretty good about not letting people deny that shit), but this rich Bavarian tradition has given me a little insight into the Third Reich's relentless pride in their beloved Volksland. But let's tread carefully: 'tis a tender subject for today's Deutschmen and a lot of them are all too tired of fat, loud finger-pointing Americans who come here for beer and Nazi tours.

Some relevant context:

When I was working at the Mineral Trade show a few weeks ago, I overheard the hunchbacked, Larry Flynt-esque boss at the neighboring table talking about how this was his first time in Munich and he wanted to see the sites. Evidently, my obnoxious, rich-as-balls Canuck boss had told him about the Nazi tours, about Nazi meetings at the Hofrbauhaus, and about Hitler's 'favorite' bar; Mr. Flynt decided to verify the Canuck's claims with a bonafide German whose clever, practiced response to this indiscretion was a quick, 'Oh, I'm too young to know about all that.'

Never too young to know about Perchta!
H. went to the Austrian Alps with her host family, said it was beautiful and what not. I responded, well, the hills are alive with the sound of music, are they not? Her family didn't get the joke. Evidently a musical about a family of Austrian choir children escaping the Nazis with the help of their would-be nun of a nurse doesn't hold have the wide appeal in contemporary Deutschland that it does in the states.

A midcentury Perchta?

See, as one might say in grad-speak, Bavaria's 'scapes' (cf. Appadurai) may serve as an appropriate imaginary nexus for deproblematizing the postmodern era's new barbarism. As a supplement to the polarizing discourse of escapism/extremism, the perchen anarchically deconstruct our microfascist image-histories of self, (ie. our embodied surveillance systems of ideology), wiping out the bad spirits of hyperreal terror that obscure late capitalism's collective objet petit a: the Alps, the organic homeland ... the afterlife.

Always the good guy?

As our global media-military industrial complex (brought to you by Pepsi) of mercenaries and terrorists perpetrates its dual phallocentric Wolfenstein 3D revenge phantasy, it succeeds all too well at seducing more and more outliers into its rigged deerhunt: the feeders are everywhere and all too many parties are stalking, whether or not they know they too have grown antlers.

A Critique of Positivism?

Child war soldiers in Sierra Leone, white pride tween singers in US, Uighur and Tibetan persecution in China, neo-Nazis in Germany and Austria, and of course everywhere Islamoterrorists and CEOs: the physical tragedies of Katrina and Aceh elided with that of Michael Jackson and Anna Nicole Smith comprise a mental tableau of accelerated evening-news hyperreality whose automatons beg, work, pay and explode themselves for even an inch, centimeter, or assbā of the dear reserve surplus value, i.e. the fetishized, virginal Alps of our desire. Whether the medium is a xenophobic hate crimes or a irony-filled sitcoms, the ideological goal remains organic, non-radiated, viagra-free, pure paradise now (Did you see that movie? It was really good).

Modern marketing appeals, so far evolved beyond Bernay's (Freud's nephew) herd-instinct and subconscious manipulation, still give special place to the country, to the folksland, to tradition and heritage. It remains our pie in the sky, whether as a physical or purely imagined (remembered) realm of solace, peace.

Remember how it used to be?

But with the fall of Christianity, the West struggles to find a proper guardian for its afterlife, resorting to all sorts of violence in fear of Allah. By inverting the contemporary Fox-marketed hierarchy, by replacing Julie Andrews with Frau Perchta, we can begin to rhizomatically reconstruct reality in a post-ideological, albeit still fantastical image, that acknowledges the polarized position of the Other and its necessity for the coexistence of our respective real phantasies.

The Governess of New Barbarism

Had you fooled right?

OK, enough silly pomo talk. No one actually gets paid to slur that high-minded hypnobabble, right? Maybe I should just turn this into a poster for Munich's upcoming Nazi/Anti-Nazi Rally....

I wonder how German Neo-Nazi's feel about Tarantino.

Other things from Germany: yesterday was Saint Martin's day. Lots of school children gathered in the park nearby, all with their little lanterns, and sang songs with their parents.

Also, the store downstairs sells espresso and has a really big poster in the window that looks something like this:

Of guiltless minstrelsy?

Also, evidently the students here are occupying the university gym because they feel that 1000 euros a year in fees discriminates against the poor by not allowing them equal access to education. Keep in mind that they already have a financial aid program and a loan forgiveness program in place.

More Perchten:

Can't we all just get along?

PS. I would've included a diff EQ relating the rate of surplus value to number of Perchen but I don't have MathType. As the current exhibit at the Third Reich's Haus der Kunst says:

Series, Subscriptions, Etc.

2009-11-11T03:24:00.008-06:00

Today, I read about Madlib releasing a series of beat/mix LPs this year. One every month or two depending on the format it seems. In any case, it reminded of Karl Blau's Kelp subscription series where he records every few months and sends out the release to all his current subscribers. Now granted Madlib's project isn't a subscription project per se but it nevertheless rekindled a little entrepreneurial impulse in the backwaters of my mind (perhaps first prompted by the McSweeney's subscription packages...).

Over the past few years, I've begun thinking that a subscription series would really be the best way of establishing a new label/artist these days. I mean, it would allow a more resilient community to develop around whatever's being produced whether its music or art. 7" series do this to a certain extent sure, but I wonder why artists are still so caught up on having (supposedly) really solid but sporadic releases. Why not establish subscription series so that they have an immediate communal and financial incentive to continually produce their work for a interested and responsive audience?

Ok, my guesses for why not: logistics, laziness/busy-ness, and maybe some misled fear of audience mistrust.

So here's my call out to Austin (and Athens too): subscription series, think about! whatever it is you make.

similar but different

2009-11-02T04:52:00.015-06:00

MUNICH, DEUTSCHLAND

-The Eisbach in Munich beats Boogie Bahn at Schlitterbahn if you like surfing. If you like watching innocent little lambs unsuspectingly get blasted into the air in front of a crowd, then the Boogie Bahn still takes all.

-Everyone dresses classy. Real classy. Even while riding their bikes (and smoking), it's fur, leather, whatever. The few homeless people that (I think) I've spotted had their shirts tucked in.

-Rogueish millionaires drive matte black cars, not hot red ones. Also, they live in palaces, not shitty oversized suburban McMansions that take up 9/10ths of their lot.

-Stores close at 8 PM and aren't open on Sundays. Except in the train stations. And there aren't bodegas really. This sucks if you happen to be accustomed to impulsive inexpensive drinking binges.

-No one jaywalks. H. saw someone get chewed out by an old lady for it. It's like it's illegal or something.

-Tap water contains more hard minerals. That shit stains your supposedly stainless steel pots and pans. WTF?

-Psychoanalytic kindergarten? Come on, let the kids love purple dinosaurs and Korean aliens with stomach-televisions in peace.

-It's illegal to pass on the right. I guess this isn't that big of a deal because the autobahn is only two or three lanes wide & people actually use the left lane as a passing lane.

-Strange things are American branded: toasters (American Sandwich Toaster), bread (McCennedy brand).

-Uh, there isn't a healthcare debate.

-Germans only have purebreed dogs. Yeah, sure, they've changed.

-Evidently minstrel-like black caricatures aren't passe.

-Socialist cowboys?

-Mustard comes in a heavy duty aluminum squeeze container that makes me hesitate at lunch as I contemplate the possibility that I've mistakenly topped my my salami sandwich with epoxy.

-QWERTZ, not QWERTY. No biggie.

-Lots of bikes have coaster brakes. Wusses.

-Lots of bikes have dynamo powered lights. Sweet.

-Lots of bikes have weird butterfly handlebars. I think this has to do with winter.

-Lots of bikes.

-Kids learn to ride bikes on little walking bikes. No training wheels, ever.

EUROPE in general:

-Instead of being confused or surprised by the number of people smoking, I smile because I've realized that the tradition of Americans profiting off of Europeans filling their lungs with carcinogens is both long and rich.

-Toilet's have an on/off switch. Press to flush, press again to shut it off early and save water. The Germans smartly passed on the whole small flush toilet thing. I'd suspect because, well, on a diet of meat, cheese, and beer, well, you want to be sure that your shit gets as far as possible as quickly as possible.

-You have to bag your own groceries, big deal.

-A4 paper ... whatever.

-McD's charges for ketchup for your fries. BUT you can buy beer. Also, delinquent teenager posses hang out smoking and talking shit in front McD's. Rebellious lil' consumers.

-Since there aren't one dollar or two dollar bills (only coins), strip clubs have their own paper bills for tipping strippers (thanks Konrad).

-Eggs come in packs of 10. Goddamn metric system.

-No growth hormones in dairy/poultry and no lab engineered food.* Evidently people think this stuff is dangerous enough to make it illegal. Hmm.

-In Lyon, France, they have this place that sells the 'Super American' sandwich which is sort of a runaway American dream in my opinion. It's a burger with fries. That is, the fries are on the burger.

-Also in France, the way too reasonably named 'Quick' fast-food chain sells a double patty burger with bacon, but the two patties come side-by-side on an elongated bun. It's called a long bacon burger. Check it.

-They've deified Obama here for sure, but they also really like to mention that he did cocaine.

-There is no such thing as DIY rock music or house parties

-As far as the internet is concerned, the Germans use it to buy things, the French use it to comment on what other people have said, and the Scandinavians use to it find out what the rest of the world is up to while they stay indoors during the long cold night they call winter.

-The French have quite possibly the most aggravating/intriguing form of slang. Verlan consists of flipping the syllables of a two syllable word. Some words are now double flipped. Real cool guys except when I can't understand half of your singsong words to begin with.

-Europeans think American don't know any other languages, always want more, and are generally rude, fat, and obnoxious. Now, while all that may be true, I should say that I've seen lots of fat people in Europe. Less so in the capital cities and they are not quite as often Walmart parking lot obese, sure, but yes, fat. The key thing is they seem proud and happy with their fat. Perhaps it has to do with the source of their fat?

-Turks, Eastern Europeans, and Russians are sort of like the Mexicans of Europe. Turks make really good lamb sandwiches called doner kebab. But they aren't so good that they make me forget how much I miss fajitas, Tejano music, and Fiesta.

-Russian women are evidently really aggressive because they don't want to go back to Mother Russia.

-Evangelism is spreading here. I saw a guy wearing a 'Jesus Inside' jacket the other day. You know, like Intel Inside? Two points for being both embarrassingly nerdy and annoyingly religious.

-New age-ism is intense here. Granted, I just worked a mineral trade show, so my view on this is a little skewed. But I saw a lot of Germans drinking emerald energized water, siphoning energy off of a crystal pyramid, and feeling the vibes of Tibetan bowl/gongs.

-I've heard the Right is making a comeback in Europe.

*completely tangential and pretentious side note: I'd argue that 'genetic engineering' is a bit of a misnomer in contemporary discourse because the most common form of genetic engineering is selective breeding.

'Feed men! and then ask them of virtue!'

2009-10-24T05:11:00.003-05:00

"Anyone who can appease a man's conscience can take his freedom away from him."
-the Grand Inquisitor

boo oo ty slowjamz playlist

2009-09-04T16:39:00.006-05:00

featuring (not in this order)...

notorious big - big poppa
pm dawn - set adrift on memory bliss
d'angelo - brown sugar
d'angelo - one mo'gin faith evans - soon as I get home
jodeci - feenin'
usher - nice &amp
swv - you're always on my mind
busta and janet - what's it gonna be
tlc - red light special
isley brothers - between the shees
mariah carey w/ jigga - heartbreaker
mint condition - breakin' my heart (pretty brown eyes)
aaliyah - one in a million
aaliyah - come over
brandy - wanna be down
r kelly - your body's callin' me
r kelly - feelin' on your boot
r kelly - bump and grin
keith sweat - nobody
keith sweat w/ kut klose - get up on it
bone thugs - tha crossroads

part 1
part 2

chop chop

2009-09-03T15:49:00.002-05:00

peter panic at 'last' rancho show

2009-08-31T09:58:00.001-05:00

dizzy michael

2009-08-14T11:26:00.001-05:00

boric acid

2009-07-15T14:28:00.000-05:00

Homemade ant bait can be made by dissolving 1 teaspoon (5 mL) powdered boric acid and 10 teaspoons (50 mL) sugar into 2 cups (500 mL) of water; this mixture can then be absorbed into cotton balls which are left near ant trails. This reportedly will be carried back into the ants' nest, killing any ants that eat it, potentially destroying the entire colony.

===

In combination with its use as an insecticide it also prevents and destroys existing wet and dry rot in timbers. It can be used in combination with an ethylene glycol carrier to treat external wood against fungal and insect attack. It is possible to buy Borate impregnated rods for insertion into wood via drill holes where damp and moisture is known to collect and sit. It is available in a gel form and injectable paste form for treating rot affected wood without the need to replace the timber. You can buy concentrates of Borate based timber treatments which can be sprayed or dipped. Surface treatments prevent slime, mycelium and algae growth even in marine environments. There is a wide range of manufacturers of wood preservers based on boric acid/ borate mineral salts.

(source)

eyeplug sievert noggin at moose, june 2009

2009-07-10T14:00:00.002-05:00

EYEPLUG SIEVERT NOGGIN from EYEPLUG / tall reed on Vimeo.

powwh - nerve tapper video

2009-07-07T14:21:00.002-05:00

powwh - nerve tapper from EYEPLUG / tall reed on Vimeo.

blinded

2009-07-06T16:21:00.003-05:00

eyeplug at moose lodge

2009-07-02T16:27:00.006-05:00

peter panic at 1808 redux

2009-06-23T17:02:00.003-05:00

peter panic at club 1808 austin tx june 2009 from EYEPLUG / tall reed on Vimeo.
shot by melanie. thnx.