The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
1/13/2009
Although there was much naysaying and the intelligence of my source was doubted, it turned out that my information was good-- when I plugged our house's old aerial antenna wire into our brand new HDTV, I was rewarded with more channels than usual (four NBC channels, etc.) and many in HD with better clarity and less compression than HD through cable.
Adults Say The Darndest Things
I've been playing basketball on Sunday mornings at seven AM (it's the interim between outdoor and indoor soccer) and, while I waited to sub in, I chatted with an Italian looking guy in his forties about sports (very difficult for me now, as I only watch the Giants and can't remember the names of any other players, but I certainly wasn't going to mention what I'm currently reading-- Rapture for the Geeks, a breezy book about the possible coming of the technological singularity-- that's just not appropriate at a pick-up game) and he expressed his confidence that the Giants would beat the Eagles, and I concurred and then he said to me, "Plus, it's so hard to win anything with a black quarterback . . . you know, it's only been done once" so I looked down to see if I had the words Fellow Racist written on my t-shirt, and then, luckily, after a very long and awkward pause, I was able to remember that Doug Williams was the black QB with the Superbowl Ring, so I said his name and ended a very weird moment for me-- but who says that to someone they barely know? . . . and now that the Giants are out, I'm kind of rooting for the Eagles just so I can hear how this guy explains it-- maybe he'll tell me Donovan McNabb is an octoroon or something.
1/11/2009
Joseph Campbell said, "Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy," which I found to be true when I actually bought some music on the computer (a download of the new Franco retrospective, Francophonic, which is awesome) and Rhapsody charged my credit card but the music didn't download, but now we find mercy when we call Heaven, which happens to be Bangalore, where merciful folks man the phones and forgive our technological sins (my temporary internet files were full of cookies and other data, thus blocking the download.)
1/10/2009
1/9/2008
1/8/2009
We entered a new realm last night, a realm where me, my wife, and my three year old son can consume an entire large pizza (Alex didn't want any)-- but far scarier is that my child has become my rival, as I was shutting the pizza box, Ian spied that there was one piece left and he "called" it-- he said, "Don't eat that last piece, I want it," which is my role in the family, to finish off all the extra food, but obviously those days are gone so if I'm looking skinny, you'll know why.
1/7/2009
I highly recommend Hurry Down Sunshine, a memoir by Michael Greenberg: he recounts when his fifteen year old daughter Sally suddenly became completely insane (manic depressive and bipolar)-- it is gripping, scary, and disturbing, but also has a large cast of New York characters to lighten it up, plus he adds some historical parallels (I never knew James Joyce's daughter Lucia was insane) but I'm not sure if I can recommend the highly lauded posthumous novel 2666 by the Chilean Robert Bolano: I'm only a quarter of the way through the thousand pages, and it is Pynchonesque in size and form, and Borgesian in theme . . . Hurry Down Sunshine is a compelling portrait of insanity, 2666 is actually making me insane.
1/6/2009
Yesterday was certainly the Monday to end all Mondays, but here's a fact to get you through: by the end of the month, the sun will be rising thirteen minutes earlier than it did yesterday (7:08 instead of 7:21) and it will be setting twenty nine minutes later-- 5:15 instead of 4:46 . . . so there are bright times in all of our futures.
1/5/2009
1/4/2009
1/3/2009
1/2/2009
A friend got an iTouch for Christmas, and now, like Marion Barry was on crack, she is on the internet-- you can't say two words to her before she's Google-ing something you said-- so my 2009 prediction is that this information super-highway will turn humanity down a bad road; it will be used for pornography, gambling, identity theft, mindless frivolity (such as a video of a dude playing Europe's "The Final Countdown" on a kaz00keylele-- you've got to check it out) and worse, far far worse.
How Big Is Your Set?
My New Year's Resolution is 1080p, yes my set is bigger than Notorious B.I.G-- I'll plagiarize his rap because his words don't miss . . . "when I was dead broke, man, I couldn't picture this/ 50 inch screen, money green leather sofa/ got two rides, limousine with a chauffeur/ phone bill's about two G's flat/ no need to worry, my accountant handles that"-- so thanks to DLP technology and the miracle of deflationary tech-pricing, I'm living like a dead rap star.
The Top Two Movie Lines of 2008!
I know you've all been waiting with bated breath, and it's finally finished . . . Dave's Top Two Movie Lines of 2008 (one of the movies isn't even from 2008, but I saw it in 2008 and that's what is important) and so, here they are, in no particular order:
1) I drink your milkshake! I drink it up! (from There Will Be Blood, delivered by Daniel Day Lewis)
2) Isn't it beautiful? Even though it's where everyone died (from Battle Royale, said by the girl that survived a three day organized slaughter-fest on a deserted island, she delivered it as they drove away on a speedboat-- it's one of those movies you have to see to believe: totally compelling, though the premise is ridiculous, and it's directed by a really famous Japanese director, Kinji Fukasaka, who you'd think is too old for that sort of thing-- he's 71-- but he's good at seamlessly and effortlessly mixing genres, like Bong Joon-ho does in that South Korean movie The Host, which I also really liked).
1) I drink your milkshake! I drink it up! (from There Will Be Blood, delivered by Daniel Day Lewis)
2) Isn't it beautiful? Even though it's where everyone died (from Battle Royale, said by the girl that survived a three day organized slaughter-fest on a deserted island, she delivered it as they drove away on a speedboat-- it's one of those movies you have to see to believe: totally compelling, though the premise is ridiculous, and it's directed by a really famous Japanese director, Kinji Fukasaka, who you'd think is too old for that sort of thing-- he's 71-- but he's good at seamlessly and effortlessly mixing genres, like Bong Joon-ho does in that South Korean movie The Host, which I also really liked).
Double Parallel Movie Madness
Two recommendations with parallels: Slumdog Millionaire is like City of God, but in Mumbai instead of Rio de Janeiro-- I give it sixteen million blinded child beggars out of a possible eighteen million; and Philip Hensher's The Northern Clemency is like a Richard Russo novel-- omnipotent, sprawling, and generous-- set in the suburbs of England-- I give it nine moors out of a possible ten.
Three Firsts
Three firsts yesterday:
1) Alex's first brazen and convincing lie . . . it was six A.M. and we were building the new Lego table and Alex and Ian were helping me, and Alex had already told Ian that it was "no time for talking" and then when Ian said something while Alex was busy holding the side of the table, he turned to him and clearly said, "Shut up, Ian" and when I confronted him he said, bawling "I said 'sun up!' because the sun is coming up!" and he pointed outside and, of course, the sun was coming up, but I know what he said and it wasn't "sun up" and who the hell says that anyway-- he claims he "forgot" to say the other words (the, is, coming)
2) Alex's first use of sarcasm . . . we were building a huge rain forest puzzle and it was hard and I said, "Who got us this puzzle, it's hard" and Alex said, "Santa" and I said,"Santa must have heard you were smart" and Alex said, "I guess he didn't hear that you weren't smart"
3) the first time a giant hawk smashed into our new bay window and sat stunned in the little pine tree in our yard for a while and then flew away.
Clever Incompetence
Catherine decided to make chicken scarpariello for our giant Christmas Eve party-- it's chicken and sausage, with bell peppers, sweet and hot cherry peppers, onions, all in a wine sauce, but you have to cut thighs and whole breasts into parts, and cut through bone, which is more difficult than it looks on television-- and she was having trouble with our knife, so I told her she should be using a cleaver (which is where the word "clever" is derived from, but she didn't want to hear this) and that if she was clever enough to use the proper tool, she wouldn't be having so much trouble, and I even offered to go buy her one-- but instead she wanted me to chop a few pieces, though she knows I'm a bit squeamish when it comes to cutting chicken (and this wasn't a chicken breast out of the package, this was skin and bones and gristle) and so she was sarcastic and emasculating about my ginger cutting style (I really don't like touching raw chicken, it's slimy and gross) and so I took a good chop at it and broke the cutting board in two (a big chop just like I see the chefs do on TV-- and Catherine said to me, "Do you see any cameras?") and then she relieved me of cutting duty, but she wasn't very happy with me . . . so, against my better judgment, despite the fact that I knew I might lose a digit, I got her a cleaver for Christmas.
All the Cute Girls Live in Canada
I've been telling this story to whoever will listen: a teacher who will remain nameless was walking around his class with a spur on his shoe (it had something to do with teaching True Grit) which the class found weird, but one of the girls simply said, "he's a single guy, he can do what he wants" and the teacher-- who is dating another teacher in the department-- said, "Actually, I'm not single--I have a girlfriend," and the girl looked and him and just laughed and laughed, sincere laughter, the laughter of someone who's heard a clever and surprising and completely absurd punch-line, and he said, "No, really, I do" and she said, "Well then, what's her name?" and he was about to say it but then realized they might recognize it was a fellow teacher, and he didn't want to spill that information, so-- and this is my favorite part-- he genuinely stuttered (you can't fake that unless you're a trained actor) and this teacher is NOT a good liar, so after some hemming and hawing, he finally said, "Uh, I can't say" which made everyone laugh even more, and finally he retreated to the classic response when cornered about a girl . . . "uh . . . she lives in Canada."
Low Rider on the High Ground
Just finished reading Thomas Friedman's new book Hot, Flat, and Crowded: Why We Need a Green Revolution-- and How It Can Renew America . . . and so Merry Christmas carbon-producing, wrapping paper using, dirty fuel abusing (and so terrorist funding) American materialist pigs-- and I say this with greatest affection as I'm in the club as well . . . until I build my enclosed electric recumbent commuter tricycle, because then I will have the moral high ground.
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A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.