Bullshit Manifesto

About ten years ago a friend from middle school got me hooked on it. First I just used his, then I started to buy my own. It was pretty raw at first, but then they started making higher quality stuff. It was getting stronger, more intense, more fun. I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to. I got the guys in my neighborhood on it. some of them had it worse than I did. We’d drive for miles just to get the best prices on it. It only started there, as this was only a “gateway” addiction.

Magic: The Gathering

aka

Crack: The Addiction

I started playing around unlimited, but really started buying cards during Revised. I stopeed buying cards around Ice Age. I still have no fewer than 4 decks, ready to play. I also have some cards for Star Wars and Star Trek, but not enough to have made any kind of decent decks. I bought a fair amount of The Holy Grail game, which was ridiculous, but fun to play. Really, the cards were just fun to have. Then, recently, I bought some of the Harry Potter cards on ebay. I had bought a box of boosters a year or two ago for only 20 bucks, which is really good, considering there were 36 boosters that used to be $4 a pop. I bought a couple starter decks also so that I could get a rule book. Painfully simple for anyone that played Magic. There’s no banding, upkeep, tapping, or any of that Instant vs. Interrupt shit. You can play two cards a turn, and that’s that. If you have the Lessons in play, you’re good to go.

My brother Corey has bought a fair amount of cards, which, again, are dirt cheap, and we are going to throw down Friday morning. He and I have been talking a fair amount of smack about this game, even though we know very little about the other’s deck. He has a fair amount of cards, but the finer workings of these games is something that I have a lot of experience in. I’ll post how that goes. In the end, there is a certain amount of random “luck of the draw,” literally, involved, so I am not cocky. More like extremely confident. I mean, I’m leading with Ron for Pete’s sake. I’ve got Flitwick in my deck, along with Hagrid. You can bring your Harry Butthole Pussy Potter any day of the week. Weasley is our King.

I have started running my game of Vampire, which I have entitled The Rush, as it is set in 1849 San Francisco. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the time, as you might not be from the US, let alone California, this was the year gold was found at Sutter’s Mill which in turn prompted thousands of people to move to California to strike it rich.

I’ve got a madame, a Cardinal, a revolutionary, a blacksmith, and a vagabond as players. I’m quite happy with how versatile they all are, as there are some fairly versatile parts to my story that each should find a part in splendidly.

The first session went very well, if I do say so myself. All the players got some good playing in, especially the first timers who hit the ground running, for the most part. But then you can’t hold someone responsible for botching a self control roll on their first roll ever, can you?

At any rate, the emails between games are great, the players are getting involved in every facet that I’d created and then some, and the interaction between them is marvelous. I’d love to say more, but they each read this site and will undoubtedly know who and what I’m talking about if I mention anything.

So this post is over. Everyone gets the point for playing…

*Warning, this post contains too much information

When you go to a Mexican restaurant, and you see something on the menu like “Shrimp stuffed with crab, wrapped in bacon,” it’s likely not safe to eat. It does taste hella good, but then it only tastes good going down. The gas wasn’t that great, either. No more meat stuffed with meat wrapped in meat.

First, I would like to say that I just saw Tim Roth at the grocery store. I didn’t say anything, as he had his two kids with him. They were buying cheese, and he was asking his sons which one they preferred. It was adorable.

Second, the best personality test ever.

I’m Marge. Who knew?

Which Simpson’s character are you?

Yesterday at work was uneventful. After work Milca and I checked out a place in Sierra Madre’s canyon (aka The Canyon, aka Tiny Town) called The Nature Friends. It’s a nice little spot with the possibility of indoor or outdoor, which is good since the date is in January, and my weather control device won’t be operational until June of next year. the only downer is that this place charges per head. This is just for the ceremony, mind you. The plus side is that we have the place all day. This could be in our favor, since we won’t have to worry about decorating time and whatnot.

This price deal has also added a little level of tension regarding “The List.” I have family that is going to be snubbed, but that’s just the way it’s going to have to be. My mom’s cousins, and their kids, total about 13 people, which means more money. In the end, I believe that with the wedding party, family, and close friends, the total will be around 70. Milca’s not to happy with the number, but when we look at the list, it’s almost impossible to do it with any less. The biggest struggle is with the kids. I want them there. So does Milca. Having them there will add to the cost, which can’t be ignored. I’m talking cousins, my godson, his brothers, and then some. In the end, I’m going to pay for them to be there, if it comes down to it. Also, if it does rain, the indoor alternative seats 70, so we’re limited there.

After all the shenanigans, I went to see Mike’s band Jinsai that he and an old buddy of his from high school, Scary James, formed about a year or so ago. For the most part this past year has been spent recording, practicing, writing, and brainstorming. They played their first live show a week ago at The Old Town Pub, and played their second last night at Mr. T’s Bowl in Highland Park. I had only been there coming from Pasadena, at night, and I wasn’t driving, so I wasn’t sure how to get there, except that it was kinda close to me. Close was an understatement. I didn’t have to take a freeway at all. This, in and of itself, is an indication of how close you are to something in Southern California. To get to my friend Justin’s house I use to have to take 3 freeways, but the drive was only 15-20 minutes. This drive was about 6 minutes. The exit, should I have taken the freeway, is the same exit I would use to go home.

The show rocked. For the better part of a year I lived with a pair of brothers that played electronic music, and in that time became aware of many of the types of sounds out there. It’s not necessarily my cup of tea, but I can appreciate it, and know what’s good and what’s crap. Jinsai isn’t crap. They could fine tune their sound and a couple songs here and there, but they’ve only played two shows, so the capacity for improvement is just a given. I had heard several evolutions of their music, and I have to say that I like where it’s going. It’s much more abient than what I am used to, but it’s not so heavy as other ambient music I had heard. It’s hard, but not heavy. Anyway, I had a good time, and saw a bunch of people I hadn’t seen in a month full of Sundays. Several of them I couldn’t remember their names.

One that I could rememebr, however, was a pal named Amanda (aka Rancho Cuc-Amanda) who has agreed to play flute at the wedding ceremony!! This will mean that she and Mike will be playing, and that’s just swell. We’re still figuring out what we want played, but we’ve got a couple of things in mind. One song specifically is Origin of Love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. We’ll see if we can get our hands on the sheet music, which I can’t imagine would be too tough.

So, there you have it. Another weekend in The Loop. Tonight Milca’s mom gets back from Sedona. From what I understand, the trip wasn’t ideal, so I’m looking forward to a crazy story. Most of her stories are kinda crazy. She’s hella crazy, so it’s really inevitable.

Teet.

I posted in the long, long ago, in the before time, here about how people weren’t aware of what went on around them while in cars. Now that I drive much more often now, I find that what I said is still true, but with a different spin. I’m not going to rant about how drivers in Southern Califorrnia are crazed lunatics, unless they’re hopeless twits, bunt rather point out the funnier side.

I’ve seen someone picking their nose while driving just about once every day.

I’ve seen a man doing jaw excersizes, stretching his face.

I’ve seen people rocking out, dancing rather violently, and not just at stop lights.

It seems that once you put someone in a car by themselves, they lose touch with the fact that anyone outside of their Sensory Inhibitive Chamber even exists. I am guilty, but not about forgetting about those around me. I just don’t care. If I’m dancing, rocking out, or making ridiculous faces at myself in the mirror, I not only don’t mind if you see, but probably hope you do.

Make funny faces at other people. Especially children. They love it. You’ll make their day, and the reaction on their face will likely make yours.

I often remind myself, as well as those around me, of this basic principle.  Consider the intelligence of the average person.  I’m talking the average person.  You’ve taken the intelligence of everybody and divided by the number of people.  Let’s remember all of those Southern states, too.  Got it?  Alright, so now that we have that average person’s intelligence in mind, supposing that the curve is symmetrical, or even mildly so, you could infer that roughly half of the people in the world are more stupid than that person.  This is supposing that the curve is symmetrical, of course, but you get the point.  This explains running into those people that can’t operate a belt.  This also explains people that are pointed to something in a store, go to it, look at it, then come back to you to ask where it is, even though they were just looking directly at them.  I helped both of these people.  A mother and a son, neither of which knew how to operate a belt, the mother tried to get me to give her a new belt because she lost the “broken” buckle from her son’s previous belt.  She later went ahead and opened a pair of socks to try them on.  In California it is illegal to sell previously worn socks, mind you.  Her son was the brilliant one who looked directly at a rack of books who then asked where those books were.  While they were here, I wanted to kill them.  Now I’m laughing my ass off.  Too bad you have to wait until after those moments to laugh at them.

Not that it matters, but they were Chinese.  She was blunt, rude, and slightly loud.  This didn’t help my self control when it came to snapping, but I still maintained.

Boobies.

In the past 5 years or so the list of people I would call friends has changed quite a bit.  Some names are new, some removed, and some have slipped into the “acquaintances” list.  Living in the same city I went to high school in, along with the fact that many of the people that are in the “removed” category share mutual friends, makes for interesting events and whatnot.  Here’s how it typically goes down:

1) I am getting ready for whatever event it is.  I’m stressed or worried that in some way “All hell will break loose.”  I don’t really know what this means, why it might break loose, or who it would break loose on, but I still think it might break loose.

2) On the ride to the event I mentally list everything I would want to say should all hell break loose.  As I am not sure what all hell breaking loose means, nor why it would break loose, all I can really plan to say is what I feel.

3) I get to the event, typically early, and get to see everyone.  Seeing is about the best that it can be described, as eye contact is rarely made.  When it is, there is rarely a nod or other gesture made to acknowledge the presence of the other person.  Some of these people I will actually talk to in that “How’s life treating you” banter you would expect from a ghigh school reunion.  Others I will not give the time of day to.  I am certain that there are others that feel the same way about me, and I understand.

4) Others show up that are more on my end of the spectrum, or are in a neutral area, making the stress level lighter on me, as all hell breaking loose is more likely to break loose on these other people.  That isn’t to say that all hell couldn’t break loose on me, but it’s more likely to break loose on more volatile people than myself.

5) The evening goes on with everyone ignoring the other half of the group, except for the neutral types that have to walk back and forth between several groups.  At some point it is made known to either group what the other says about it, and shit talking immediately follows.  This is without fail.

I would like to say that I’ve gotten used to it, but really, it is getting old.  Okay, we don’t like eachother.  I get it.  I’ve moved on.  My shit talking, which I can’t say that I really did much of to begin with, has ended.  Granted, I make a little fun at the things I hear that are said about me, but not in some spiteful backstabbing way.  For example, when referred to as a “Non-Friend,” I made a quip about taking over the world only to have my plans thwarted by Batman, Robin, Superman, Wonderwoman, the Green Lantern, and the rest of the Super Friends.  I’d say that’s about as bad as it gets from me.

I don’t know, I suppose I’m looking for some sort of closure or end to this drama, but I know that this won’t happen as long as silence remains a constant.  There are people I want to lay everything on the line with, and others that I owe appologies to.  I don’t lay it on the line because I don’t see the pointe, and don’t appologize because I don’t know that they’d give a shit either way.  I suppose all I can do is keep living my life, right?  That’s easy enough…  until the next gathering (Follow steps 1-5 above).

Hear ye, hear ye!!  The date is set!!  I suppose that “hell or high water” may delay or change the date, put apart from natural disasters and apocalyptic happenings, that’s the date for the wedding.

The planning process is like driving in the Indy 500.  Everything seems to whiz by, you seem to go over the same ground over and over again, but even so the tension is high and you feel like one little mistake or oversight will result in somebody getting set on fire.

At any rate, we’re hanging in there, looking for a site for the ceremony itself, and getting the smaller details covered fairly well.  I’ll keep you all posted.

Until the age of 13 I was musically ignorant.  I suppose ignorant seems like a strong word, and it may  very well be, but I’m sticking to it.  I was familiar with everything that was The Beatles, The Beach Boys, and various other oldies.  I knew Queen.  Really, all I knew was what my parents had, which was all vinyl.  I have no older siblings, so they were it.    I knew Meatloaf, for crying out loud.

I remember hearing Nevermind for the first time.  That was the turning point for me.  I had been too young to really get into the 80’s music, and just grew up on oldies.  This was new.  This was fresh.  I knew then that music was really changing, and I needed to catch up.  I listened to new stuff, but harda  hard time for a long time.  Twice at one party after freshman year I had made my ignorance clearly apparent to everyone.  Once when I requested to hear Violent Femmes, who was already on the stereo, and the other when I had asked whether “Only A Lad” was The Cure.  I know, I know, I was lame.  I take full responsiblity for that.  I’ve made it all better now.

In my few years of paying special attention to learning as much as possible, I’ve learned a lot, and would like to impart some of this information on all of you in a segment I’d like to call Born Yesterday.

I knew someone once who said that he didn’t want to get into Led Zeppelin yet because he knew that this was an undertaking in and of itself.  I agreed.  Still do.  If you want to know about the Led, you better take some time and get to really know the Led.  Granted, even one album will rock your socks, but the entirety of their catalog is majestic, to say the least.  They are the quintessential rock and roll band.  Best Rock and Roll band ever.  You can try to debate this point, but let’s be real here, alright?

The Pixies.  Any of you kids out there that are totally sprung on your KROQ flavor of the week might want to go ahead and check out the Pixies so you know what likely inspired your favorite band’s mentor.  That’s right, that’s the inspiration of one that inspired your favorite band.  Oh, and they don’t suck like their 2nd generation knock offs.

Oingo Boingo.  You know all those Tim Burton and Sam Raimi soundtracks that you love?  Remember Nightmare Before Christmas?  Well, that was all the work of Danny Elfman who was once the lead singer and songwriter for the band Oingo Boingo, later just Boingo.  They had some hits you’ve likely heard (Weird Science, Dead Man’s Party, Only a Lad) but the lesser heard stuff is just mind blowing.  The album I have linked at the bottom left is the best way to catch up on what you’ve missed.  There’s some live versions on there that make me all giddy.

Joni Mitchell.  Most, if not all, of those modern day female crooners source Joni as one of their sources of inspiration.  Her or Joan Baez, but usually both.  Joni wrote a butt load of songs that have been covered this way and that by tons of artists, including Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, and some country artist that crippled Big Yellow Taxi.  She does things with her songs that I had never heard.  The way that the melody, harmony, rythym, lyrics, and her voice seem to meld together and grab you so that you are smack dab in whatever emotion she’s singing about.  Sometimes her songs make you cry.  Sometimes they make you want to dance.  Sometimes both at the same time.

If you add those to your repetoire I’d say that you’d have a solid starting block.  I’m sure there are other bands that are worth listening to.  I would have added several myself, but I don’t want to keep typing for days.  Get these bans under your belt and you’ll be okay.