Hello. I'm back.

I decided to start blogging again. I've had the idea running around in my head since about Christmas, but it's only tonight that I got up the gumption to do it. So here I am.
I got lost today. Surprisingly, it was the first time in months. I left work today (I work in the Time-Warer building on Columbus Circle) and decided to go down to the Drama Book Shop. I'd had a particularly rough day at work and decided that the Arden Shakespeare edition of King Henry VIII would make it better. The Drama Book Shop has a decent collection of the Arden editions, so off I went on the B train.
Now, I took the B train for two reasons. One, there's a stop at Columbus Circle. Two, I'd never actually taken the B train and assumed it stopped (along with the 1 train and the A and C trains, which also stop at Columbus Circle) at Time Square. It doesn't.
It does stop at Bryant Park. I figured I'd better get off the train after it past 7th Avenue and 47-50 St. Fortunately, one of the exits out of Bryant Park station is on 40th Street, or god only knows where I'd be now. After walking two blocks in the wrong direction -- I /know/ the whole grid system by now, but being dyslexic, my idea of left/right/east/west can be a bit dodgy -- I turned around and finally found the shop and purchased my bardolic (ain't that a great word?) joy.
Luckily, I knew my N line a bit better and was off home.
I'm off to finish watching the BBC's new Quatermass Experiment, which I downloaded last night. Accordingly, I imagine I'll have something interesting to say about David Tennat tomorrow night. Man, blogger has changed a lot since I last used it.
Till then -- Obey the Basset!

The Ears Call to the Ears...

It turns out our Bess loves our Chris more than the rolling hills o' Scotland.

I am Switzerland. Without the Banks.

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Your personality type is SLOEI

You are social, moderately moody, moderately organized, egocentric, and intellectual, and may prefer a city which matches those traits.

The largest representation of your personality type can be found in the these U.S. cities: Washington DC, Greenville/Spartanburg, Boston Area, Nashville, Indianapolis, Miami/Ft. Lauderdale, Pittsburgh, Tampa/St. Petersburg, Memphis, W. Palm Beach and these international countries/regions Ukraine, Middle East, Israel, Slovenia, Croatia, Switzerland, Romania, Belgium, Denmark, Hungary, South Africa, Poland, South Korea, Guam, Hong Kong

What Places In The World Match Your Personality?
Powered by CityCulture.org

I am scared by the fact that Spartanburg, SC matches my personality type. I've been there. There aren't many there like me.

Now Here's an Uncommon Thought...

Wow, that guy at Forbidden Planet was /really/ cute.

(It's true, he was.)

My old boyfriend is away this weekend, give rise to all manner of licentious thoughts. Since money is way tight right now, I'll be spending the weekend at home, watching DVDs. I'll be watching Harold and Maude and Odd Man Out (an old British film that's mentioned in Pinter's Old Times and features William Hartnell) and catching up on Monarch of the Glen series three and season three of Gilmore Girls.

Speaking of the WB Series, after watching all of season two, I am convinced that Dean started to take steroids (to improve his softball game, natch) at the end of season one. Nothing else easily explains his slip from relatively acceptibilty into Neaderthal-like stupidity and anger. Most of his season two dialogue can be condensed down to grunts and points.
It's no wonder Rory fell for Jess. Let's face it, between Jess and Logan, the girl has a good eye for cock.

Jaylemurph Goes to the Movies

Now, in a complete rip-off of the Glitter for Brains site, our triumphant return in a review of Batman Returns.

We begin in the lovely (and quite distinctive) Wollaton Hall, Nottingham. For Reasons That Remain Unexplained, this paragon of Elizabethan architecture is now Wayne Manor. Around the grounds, a young Master Bruce Wayne and a servant girl frolic about. While hiding from her, young Bruce falls through the rotten planks his doting, fabulously wealthy parents have used (For Reasons That Remain Unexplained) to cover an old well.
Cue the Bats.
The young master Bruce is Deeply Emotionally Scarred by them.

For Reasons That Remain Unclear, we cut several years forward to a prison camp in Tibet. For further Reasons That Remain Unlcear, several large Asians commence to be beating an Anglo. We assume this to be an older version of young master Bruce.

For even more Reasons That Remain Unclear, ymB is put into solitary confinement. For still further RTRU, Gary Oldman appears from behind a door.


Gary Oldman: *foams at the mouth a bit. EVIL BAD! ME STOP EVIL! YOU STOP EVIL NOW! BRING FLOWER TO MOUNTIAN TOP!


Bruce Wayne: Uh, okay.


For yet more RTRU, Bruce is released into the wilds. He picks a flower and begins the Arduous Trek up the Himalaya. At the top, he finds a monastery. Gary begins a long stretch of turning Bruce into a Ninja/idea/crime fighter. Unfortunately, rather than using a Rocky-style montage, it is drawn out over 20 minutes or so and features some blather attempting to be Eastern philosophy as might be found in Sports Illustrated.


For more RTRU, we cut back to the life of young Bruce. We meet his kind and loving father, who patches him up. Then we meet his dainty mother and we're off to a night at the opera.

Rather foolishly, Papa picks Der Fleidermaus.
Young Master Bruce flips out.

For (you guessed it) RTRU, rather than leaving through the main entrance, they go through a side door into a dark alley where they meet an Evil Criminal. Exit Mama and Papa through the bullet holes.


More blather about THE LEAGUE OF SHADOWS that purges evil from society.


Cut to The Evil Criminal's trial. It turns out he gets shot before Princeton student Bruce gets the chance to do so himself. He feels Angry and Cheated.
He is told he will never be really sad or angry til he is poor. He renounces his wealth and becomes a petty thief. For RTRU, he winds up in China and is caught and sent to a prison camp in Tibet.


The rest of the film is somewhat of a blur. Bruce leaves Tibet, claims his inheritance and decides to Fight Crime in New Y-- Gotham City (a mere stone's throw from his Nottingham estate). Fortunately, Wayne Enterprises hoardes ill-concieved Super Hero equipment. He helps himself.


There's something about a mob-boss and a Super-Kettle and Bad-trips, but by this point, all I noticed was Cillian Murphy, who plays an Evil Hott Doctor. So hott in fact, that he remained hott after belching forth maggots and bats. As far as I could tell, he was the focus of the film. Anything that was not him was not worth watching.


The rest of the movie featured Christian Bale moping about and speaking raspily. For the record, Batman deafeats the bad guys and makes solid plans to continue Fighting Crime with his pal, Lt. (later, presumably, Commissioner) Gordon.

The End.

"People who stand in front of the [subway train] doors need to be beaten within an inch of their life and left for dead on the platform!"

Damn, New York is making me violent.

(What's worse: the person I said this to saw nothing unusual about the remark.)

Girls With Glasses Are Sexy Young Lasses

Ah yes. Laura Llew is sexier than you, and not because of her stint as a lesbian porn star. It's her shirt. She has worn it and Rory Gilmore has followed.
I want one, now.

"I don't remember Bojangles holding Shirley Temple's brains in her skull while they were tapdancing!"

It is A Fact that Emily Gilmore is the best part of Gilmore Girls, and it rules when she gets drunk, but she has finally supplied me with a Life Motto: "When a woman gives birth to a crack-baby, you don't give her a puppy."

Also, just how big is Miss Patty going to get? I have a lingering mental image of Patty the Hutt, the muu-mmu'ed form with Lorelai in the Leia slave bikini on a chain and Sally Struthers as that little thing with the ears.

Would it have killed Amy Sherman-Palladino to unbutton or maybe take off Matt Czuchry's shirt in that make out scene? Or possibly, a few minutes of hard core gay porn after that "kissing a man" bit? I mean, Rory's an active girl. She could deal with another boy around.

Tomorrow is the first quiz for my classes. Time to realize that, hey, you /do/ have to do the homework.

And for your viewing amusement: The Meatrix, the most amusing film I've seen at work.

Best. Valentine. Ever.



Yes, I stole this from Miss Laura's site, but she'd never post this one.
On a related note, some bastard looked at this and said, "Oh yeah. I need to call Jake."
On a related related note, I found out that an undergrad in one of my (where I'm student, as opposed to teacher) has a wee crush on me.

Also, the dog has taken to rooting out my socks from the laundry and sniffing them. All the time.

The Years Go By...

Yes, we all saw those movies/pictures of Simon Rex that got him canned from MTV. And really, who wouldn't want to see them?
But he's on "I Love the 90s: Part Deux" looking pretty rough now, and there's no-one willing to pay to see that, however much the smack says so.

Man, he looks so bad I can't even find a picture. Can anyone else?

Waste Your Time...

...with this ingenious device.
For the record, it has guessed Romana from Doctor Who, Lorelai from Gilmore Girls and Cpt. Peacock from Are You Being Served? but not gotten Brendan Small from Home Movies, Nathan from Queer as Folk or Archie from Monarch of the Glen.
Alas, alas Thursday when I will no longer have time for such shite.

Confessions!

After so long, I have decided to inlcude some shocking confessions about me:

*I hate Rachel Ray. I know, it makes me a Bad Person, but her cute little self makes me want to hit people. This one guy, however, adores her and her show is often to be seen in our apartment, generally provoking mean comments from me like "Is that a highway on-ramp or was she trying to show off her thigh?"
Also, she tips like a bitch. "My dinner was $12.50, and with tax and tip, that comes to $12.75! Hee hee!"

*We have a hound. Just after Christmas, that guy got a basset hound and named him Sebastian. I call him many other things: pooch, hound, and after he tried to rip my face off the first day he was home, Savage Hound of the Wild!
For those who are interested, the scar is healing nicely.

*Tivo: I don't hate it all that much. I have sworn for some years now that Tivo is evil and would reprogram you brain, like an I-pod. Nevertheless, I got this for someone as a Christmas present. Since then, it has been... useful. Its ability to pick stuff on its own to record is still wonky... soccer shows in Mandarin, Who's the Boss and a Latvian talkshow.

*I /really/ like the Canadian TV show, Degrassi: The Next Generation. I used to watch it with irony, but now it is gone. I used to refer to the characters by type names: Fat Chick, Jewish Kid, Black Dude, etc. I now most of the kids first and last names, like Paige Myckelchuk. For the record, there are only two people on the show I want to sleep with.

*Last year for Christmas, I got Stephen Malkmus' autograph for Miss Laura Llew. He may, somehow, have gotten the idea she was dying of cancer. This is very, very not true. He kept reading things into what I was saying... Yikes.

*I have, with a heavy heart, decided I will not be able to accept sexual favors from my students. Yes, I will be a TA this semester for THEA 101. Office hours, grading exams, the lot. The first day of class is next Monday.

*Ever wonder where those model/actors in Bel Ami movies go? Turns out, once they get a little too old or a little too bitter, they become bus boys at the Veselka diner downtown.

*Decimalized currency, female prime ministers and the new Ice Age: all things accurately foretold by Dr Who. There's a foot of snow on the ground and I'm cold as fuck. Amusingly though, the snow is almost as deep as the dog is tall. He has to jump around through drifts to pee. Also, he likes to eat snow, but only on the run.

*Man, you cannot find somebody selling bootleg movies when you need one. I've been looking since before Christmas for one to send as a belated gift.

And who will feel some pity and send me a copy of that Arcade Fire album?

What Better Way to Come Back...

... than puberty style? Here, the BBC answers your questions with informative cartoons. Presumably this was to help re-acquiant older Doctor Who fans with their genitals after excessive exposure to the perly new assistant, Billie Piper.

As In What Jesus Doesn't Do

I have class Wednesday nights, so I don't watch ABC's Lost program. But some fucker does, and I sometimes see bits of it.
This week was apparently about Dominic MoinaHobbit's heroin addiction.
LIES!
He's too pudgy to be a smack addict. Have the writers of this show never seen Trainspotting/been to Williamsburg/hung around professional dancers?

The * Being

Congrats if you recognized that quote from Doctor Who and The Pyramids of Mars; more if you realize Sutekh is the name of a crappy techno band.

Kneel... Kneel before the Might of Sutekh!*


You're the Indie Guru!
Take What sort of Hipster are you? today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.

You're practically too cool for words. You've got more indie rock knowledge in your pinky finger than Guided By Voices has songs! You went to your first Mudhoney concert when you were 14. You knew Green Day before they sold out to the masses. You can name every side project Lou Barlow has been in, complete with all album and song titles. You throw out words like "Thurston," "lo-fi," and "Kill Rock Stars." You wear jeans, old band tees, Converse. You hang with other gurus and people you can lord over. You're intelligent, but big-headed. Passionate, but hot-tempered. You will one day rule the earth.

*Whomp* My Name Is
*Bib* Ny Name Is

So last night was the Grad School party. It was also the night for celebrating one of my professors' retirement. The very professor, it turns out, who endowed by grant. Being a Solemn Occassion, evry single award winner since 1993 was there. They were an impressive lot, a professional director, the head archivist from the New York Public Library Theatre Archive, a CUNY PhD candidate, etc, etc.
And me.
They all spoke at length how Prof. X had touched their lives and affected their work. I stood to the side with my fellow first years, drinking very cheap white wine and hoping I wouldn't have to speak.
This turned out to be the least of my problems.
When the last of the past fellows had spoken, the head of the college announced it was now time to award this year's prize.
The 90+ year old professor stood up, squinted at the envelope and said:
"I'd like to award this year's prize to...
... Joel Anders!"

Just to make the situation more comfortable, the current head of the graduate program hissed in the world's sotte voce, "IT'S JASON ECKARD!"
The august professor stared at me for a second or two, threw down her hands and went "Oh, him!" and said to me, "You got it" and sat back down.

Not that I'm complaining too much, mind you. The money was spent today on the rest of my textbooks for the semester, and rent and groceries to keep me alive (and a Dr Who book and Belle and Sebastian vinyl), and the esteemed professor was 91 years old, but still...

UPDATE: the situation was not healed in class today when the chair of the department demanded one "Joshua" to read alound. When (after a minute or so) I looked up to see why no-one was reading, said professor was looking at me.
"My name isn't Joshua."
"Oh," he said. "Read it anyway."

Practice, Practice, Practice...


I realized today that the big red sandstone building I think looks at my subway stop for work (at 57th and 7th) is, in fact, Carnegie Hall. Go fig.

It was near this very corner today when I was approached by a campaign worker for the Democratic party. He was all eager, running up to the unlucky and pestering them. He was also pretty cute. When he zeroed in on me (I had sadly neglected to wear my headphones) I tried to escape. No joy. After he asked me "Are you registered to votem, sir?", I had a momentary image of giving him head. (He was cute, okay.) I laughed quickly because that was a fairly grossly inappropiate thing to do. He asked me if I thought the election was funny. Pissed off, I decided to tell him The Truth.
"Okay," I said. "I'll tell the truth. I've already voted. I voted Democratic. I'll sit here and talk to you as much as you want, but be aware, the whole time, I'll be thinking about having sex with you."
I was pestered no more.

My glut of papers is /finally/ over and I can start to peep back out at the world, even though I still have yet to finish (or really begin) Sue Ellen Case's Feminism and Theatre. I already dislike the book: I find some of her propisitions distaste and frightening. She doesn't like the Oresteia, the only complete Greek tragic trilogy, and is willing to drop it from the canon. It seems a little hypocritical given her zeal to add forgotten Women's work.
Tomorrow night is the graduate students' Party. The college apparently is ponying up money for wine and cheese so we can mingle and meet each other outside of class. I hope it's their chance to hook me up with my promised grant, before I miss my rent. Speaking of which, it occured to me (in another Carnegie-esque flash) that my Theatre History professor is the very person for whom the grant is named. So no falling asleep in /that/ class.
I'm currently reading a selection of primary sources on Restoration drama: Dryden's criticism, contemporary accounts of actors, personal recollections, etc. It's really, really interesting (if you're a sad bastard), but makes me want to use Capital Letters for No Reason and stress my points with Italics.

I was delighted to notice that they put Jack and Bobby and Smallville back to back on the WB. It makes sense to me, as does this week's ads with Tom Weller running around with no shi... Feeling up his nipples. Also, I'm still puzzled why, given the stars and audience, last week on JandB, they did a scene in the girl's locker-room. Title 9 people. Title 9.

In the three minutes of free time I have daily, I have discovered a new way to waste time. You can go to Nationstates.net and rule your own country. I have two; the Empire I delight in and the republic I think should actually exist. Well, sort of. I only agree with limited democracy and would have a series of intelligence tests to determine level of participation in elections, but they don't let you be that specific in formulating a government.
You can visit my countries The Most Serene Republic of San Giorgio (my original name, The Republic of St George, after my own real country, was taken) and The Holy Empire of Eckardia.

Just for the Record:
or, Why I'm not blogging at the moment

In the past three weeks...

Papers written:
1) 10 pages for History of Theatre Theory, on the relationship
between Addison's Cato and
Neoclassical Theory as formulated by Castelvetro.
2) The use of The South as Fictive Perfection in the Early Works of
Tennessee Williams, 5 pages.
3) Three page book report on The Restoration Stage, G E Bentley, ed.
4) Four page paper discussing the experience of seeing the Chester
Mystery Plays.
5) Three page book report on The Chester Mystery Plays
6) Four page paper discussing the experience of seeing a Greek
Tragedy

Plays read: The Second Shepherd's Play, The Farce of the Worthy Master Pierre
Patelin, Everyman, Boesman and Lisa, Mandragola, The Cid, The Portrait,
The Curse of the Starving Class, Cato

Books Read: The Chester Mystery Plays, Feminism and Theatre, The Cid Controversy, The Restoration Stage

Selections Read from: Hartnoll's The Theatre: A Concise History, Nagler's A Source
Book of Theatrical History, Gerould's Theatre/Theory/Theatre

Did I mention I work full time?

Tonight On A Very Special "Jack and Bobby"

Jack pleasures himself for the entire hour while watching a re-run of "Smallville."

Thank you, WB.

A Note from Work...

Sweetheart --
He isn't "metro". You're just a "fag hag."

Love,
Coffee Ho Jay

Also:
Since when is it absolutely de riguer for all cute indie boys to have Asian girlfriends? It always makes me think of that line from Queer as Folk with the fag and his Asian boy -- *in effeminate Manchester accent* "Perfect Boyfriend -- Shags like a rabbit and doesn't speak a word of English!"

Tina! Come Get Some Ham!

I'm still waiting for something interesting to happen. In light of any coherent entries, here are some bits and pieces I've been collating for a while:

I'm really disappointed about not meeting new people. I can't complain (much) since I'm too broke and too busy to go anywhere or do anything. Things are sloooowly thawing at school and I'm getting to know my fellow students.

I *have* made one friend, Sniffle-Kitty. He's a black and white tom-cat that lives up the street. The first night I moved in, he was hanging out by the sidewalk. I bent down to pet him and he sniffed my finger quite thoroughly. Since then, every time I pass by, he'd sniff me and then let me pet him. Today, I made him purr for the first time.

At work, I ran into someone from my home-town. A friend, actually, and someone I did many plays with at the Hickory Community Theatre. Go fig.
(Actually, also on the first night I was here, I saw a couple I had gone to college with, somewhere in the middle of Astoria. Not that I a) particularly liked them or b) stopped to talk to them. But still, who'd think it'd've happened that quickly?)

I have developed a very embarrassing personal rash. That necessitates buying a special creme. Ugh.

I keep noticing Important Buildings around my daily walks. In the past week, I've noticed that the CBS Corporate Building, the Ed Sullivan Theater and M Hotel are all just a few blocks from work. I also found a subway stop that knocks off about 20 minutes of my commute. (I had been taking the N train to the 1/9 at 42 Second St. up to 59th St, which was at the door of the Time-Warner Building. Now, I just get out of the N train at 57th St and walk two blocks.)
Speaking of Important Buildings, last week I drug some bastard down to One Federal Plaza, to pretend to be Sam Waterston on the steps of the courthouse. Then we went to the Virgin Megastore, where I bought The Belle and Sebastian single, Wrapped Up in Books. I am still repenting buying it there, but it was out at Kim's.

This week at school: Medieval Theatre -- Mystery Plays! Morality Plays! Auto Sacramentales! All poorly written and tediously liturgical. However, I now know what that I will be writing one paper on Addison's Cato for my theory class and on the role of the South in Tennessee Williams' early plays.

I set off the smoke alarm making quesadillas, after being spurred on by Napoleon Dynamite's grandmother. They were still edible, though. The biscuits turned out much better, even if they were only the Bisquick variety.

So, still not much interesting happens to me. Much. Every once in a while, I'll be walking around and realize "Hey, that's important!" like when I figured out that the CBS building is on my way from school to work (if I don't cut through the Park).
Last week, this one guy, his friend Alex and I went to Williamsburg to see Of Montreal. I'd seen them before and was looking forward to seeing my first show in a month. I quite liked Williamsburg, even if I probably shouldn't. It reminded me a bit of home. There were actually fairly young people walking the streets, which there isn't really in Queens. People were even vaguely friendly, and the club, Northsix, was exactly the same as every other hipster club ever.
The opening acts sucked, though, so we stood around and laughed at people -- the Fat Hipster, the Sad Kid (who was there alone and drinking). I hadn't eaten all day and had been up since 6 am, so the Coke and Bourbons probably weren't the best idea. Prompt at midnight, Alex got sick so we left before the set was over.

That one guy's family was here this weekend, so we went out to a little Italian place. Whoot for nice food.

At work today, somebody offed themself. They jumped off the fourth floor balcony in the atrium of the Time Warner Building. Now, I didn't see it, but I walked by as they were using paper towels to get up the last of the blood and repaired the tile he cracked. (Apparently, he lived, but left crippled and twitching... And don't look at me like that. If he wanted to make his death a public spectacle, I can be catty.)

Ugh... my first paper is due Wednesday. It's a simple little 3 page response, but two weeks from this week, I have about 25 pages worth of papers due.

Hi.

So, I moved. It's been a few weeks, and everything is pretty much settled down. The apartment is mostly arranged -- we're waiting for some bookshelves, since we only have one and we've got another oh, 300 or 400 books left to put up.
Other than the floating book issue, the apartment is nice (tho' it was dirty as hell when we moved in). It's not too small, and is nicely appointed with cheap Ikea furniture and other assorted furniture. We've even managed to borrow an air-conditioning unit for the bedroom, so we can stay cool.
Work is largely identical to my old job (being the same job for the same company, it would be...) but more complex... I have to run a cash register, roast coffee beans and be knowledgeable for about three times as much product, so it's challenging, I suppose. We live about a mile from the subway, so the worst part of work is getting to the subway station on Ditmars Blvd on time. The train ride in isn't as bad as the walk to the station...
Class is also pretty good. I take classes in History of the Theatre, History of Theatrical Theory and Significant English Plays of the 20th Century. The last is taught by Stanley Kauffman, a famous critic and theatre scholar. Classes with personal remeberances about Samuel Beckett rock. Besides that one class, we've been studying Greek tragedy in the other two classes. So far, I've read The Suppliant Maidens, Prometheus Bound, Agammenon, Antigone, Alcestis, Medea (not to mention the Poetics and The Clouds). I haven't been reading much else.
Sadly, between work and school, I don't get around to being very interesting. I saw Philip Seymour Hoffman -- and I only know who he is in the vaguest sense -- at the Barnes and Noble on Union Square. We've been to the Park. And that's about it, really.
Tomorrow is pay day (my first here) and I get the money from selling my car, so fun things will transpire.

Fun Fact: Park Avenue isn't actually on the park. It's two streets away. Stupid.

Wrapping Up

Things are getting packed up -- all my books, most of my clothes.
My last ever WXDU radio show was Thursday night. It went well (for a change). I was surprised how sad I was after. My last Music Staff meeting was last night. It was enjoyable -- Ross Grady left the engineering closet open, so I spent my last night at the station going through old vinyl with Courtney, Georg and Viva. We found all kinds of weird stuff -- Sesame Street Disco, C W McCall's (of "Convoy" fame) album, even the original release of the Timelords' Doctorin' the TARDIS.

I work the rest of the week, and then take a trip to see my parents in Hickory next Monday. There will stay much of my accumulated crap and the Little Red Car will meet its maker. Then on Thursday or Friday, I will (shudder) drive back here, pick up a few remaining things and drive to Wilmington, to this one guy's house.

After that, we shall move into our Gloriously Sophisticated Apartment in Queens. Yep, that guy played Great Provider and found a flat in Astoria. So no New Jersey.

Also, please note the cool new thing on the Side Bar. Please poke your pin in!

I Knew It.

It was announced today that in spite of the previous definite announcement, the Daleks will be returning this season along with Doctor Who.
Previously, the estate of Terry Nation, the creator of the Daleks refused to allow the Beeb to use the metal meanies, but after coming to their senses, have agreed to. Nation's estate is unlikely to make that much money again, even with the occasional use of the Daleks by Big Finish and BBC Books.
It is the best thing for both, after all. Who can imagine the Doctor /not/ fighting the Outer Space Robot people that launched his career? And where else is a dead hack going to make wodges of cash?

I've been perusing the official BBC Doctor Who site daily, as, excitingly, they have a picture each day of the filming in Cardiff. Today also was an annoucement of several new actors, including Ian Holm's wife, who was recently knighted. Or damed. Or whatever they do to girls.
Also there was this: my dream job and concrete evidence that I should have gone to Glasgow University when I was given a chance.

This very linky post was brought to you by a very geeky guy.

Also, I registered for my other two classes today after being restricted by the Hunter College Immunization Fairy. My classes: Theatre History One, History of Theory and Criticism and Major English Plays of the 20th Century. They probably all sound boring as crap, but I'm excited.

Responses?



Category X - The
Changeling
Witty, amusing and a bit weird, you're welcomed
into most social groups, even though you don't
'fit in' perfectly .

What Type of Social Entity are You?
brought to you by

"If You Can't Cry, At Least You Can Have a Respectable Panic Attack"
Lorelai Gilmore

Yep. That's how I feel right about now.

Turns out I didn't die from my hangover -- I even ventured out to Wendy's about 6 pm for food.
Mergefest was quite nice -- all except for the first night, when a lady spilled beer on me 15 seconds after my arrival. I was an hour and a half late and missed one of the two acts (the Rosebuds) I really wanted to see. I did see the Essex Green (and Sasha Bell pleasing stopped everyone during one song and refused to go on playing it), but was in a foul mood and went home.
Friday night was Camera Obscura night. Many people were there that night that I knew, so it was much better. One friend, Alicia, was ill so I took her home. (I was worried I'd miss CO, since I once missed part of an Essex Green set a while back for her. But I didn't.) The CO set was super, super -- they even played Eighties Fan, which almost no-one recognized since it's not on Underachievers Please Try Harder, but set me into transports of delight. Afterwards I properly met Gav, their bassist and Sinister person of long-standing. Also there was Miss Lyndsey, also of the same. We all sat and smoked and drank out back of the Cradle in a most companionable fashion. When the show was over, we went over to Aruni's where we met some Bowlie forum people (terribly nice) and continued to drink and smoke. To excess.
Saturday was spent recovering.
I had no plans to go to Sunday, the final day of the festivities, but I did. I'm no big fan of Lambchop or David Klingour, but I am (now even more so) of the Clientele. Not the least because I apparently resemble Alasdair, one of the boys in it. Enough so that one their roadies chastised me for hanging out in front of the Carolina theater three minutes before they started, and enough for one of the CO boys to talk to me five minutes before he realized. I also saw Mr Damo after the show, having been studiously ignored during it. Then again with the Aruni's and the drinking.

Life has been pretty quiet elsewise -- Mergefest was a relatively good send off for me, I suppose. The first night had a slightly funereal aspect to it since I knew it was my last Cradle show, and would be the last time I saw a great many people before I go.
Now I'm in the midst of packing up -- boxing things up, throwing them away and giving/selling furniture. It's just now sinking in I'm leaving and it's not a happy feeling right now. I'm extremely anxious about so many things, things I could completely forget about over the weekend. The reality of the situation is that things are really coming together nicely, and I'm sure everything will be fine, but it is so easy to obsess, obsess, obsess. Money is always an issue. And time. But that's life, I suppose. Right now the realest thing for me is getting up and going to work each day, and knowing that I'll see some guy soon.

I've been reading a lot lately -- novels I've had for years that I suddenly feel the need to devour. Since my last post, I've finished Faulkner's The Unvanquished and Truman Capote's book (not a novel, but a collection of biographic/journalistic sketches that's really wonderful) Music for Chameleons. I'm currently reading Salinger's Franny and Zooey and have pulled Absalom, Absalom!, The Reivers, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Arden of Feversham and Valperga before New York.

Arden is a Renaissance play of unknown authorship (Marlowe and Shakespeare being lead contenders, and I'd bet a hound's tooth it's Kit) about an early 16th Century murder near Canterbury. Valperga is Mary Shelley's second novel (1823) subtitled The Life and Adventures of Castruccio, Prince of Lucca. It's a love story set in 13th Century Italy, near Florence and features Ghibelenes and Guelphs, gays and albinos. I wrote my English honors thesis on it. Specifically, how the relationship of Edward II and Piers Gaveston affects the perception of the title character. Dull stuff, really, but it amuses me.

I'm going stir-crazy again since my car is not for social use any more. IM me! The screen name is jaylemurph!

Also, take my Friendtest. I updated it!

Can you die from a Hangover?

Tonight's Mergefest was largely what I thought it would be. As in saw many people, met many people, was out drinking til 6 am. Upon awaking, my mouth tastes like bad Chinese food, rum and cigarettes. The effect lingers after brushing.
I may have to leave the house for consumibles, but I just kinda want to crawl in a corner and whimper til tomorrow.

All right. So the cows stampeded. But then what?
 
The story from BBC News. A car with a woman in it is stampeded.
Okay.
But note how brief the story is and how many questions go unanswered.

Where did the cows come from?
Why did they stampede?

And most importantly, What became of these stampeding, car-destroying kine?
  Are they on their way across the Atlantic to Destroy Us All?

More tomorrow abour MergeFest.
IF WE'RE STILL HERE!

Dum dum dum...

 

Not Even Jersey City Is This Bad...
 
The place: Durham, NC
The date: one day, 15 July 2004
 
The Story, No 1:  Castrator Runs Off During Trial
The Story, No. 2: Who Needs Juries?
 
So after an eight-day work week, I've had to past two days off. All the time alone has made me weird -- today Cyd the Stuffed Cat was dancing to Looper's "Mondo 77".
I've also been studying Art History and Linear Algebra (I can now multiply matrices). And reading -- The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and The Magician's Nephew.  

Dear Canada:

Please explain what this means to me.

Love,
Jay


You're Alberta. You're always up for a good time
and are the life of the party. There is an aura
of excitement about you and you try to have fun
wherever and whenever you can. You're quite
popular and understandbly so.


What Canadian Province Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

"There are some places Flipper just doesn't need to go.
-- me

Interestingly, I think the high point of my Friday night was Laura telling me I ought to become a sex toy reviewer for a site that says -- and I quote:

"We're interested in the positive aspects of sex toy play and want folks who appreciate the pleasure-potential of a marble-colored dildo or a vibrator that looks like a dolphin."

Erotic Undersea Adventures aside (and how often can one say that), life has been pretty quiet. The car, miraculously, is still chugging away. Just.

The highlight of the weekend was when we went to go see the Tiger Movie, Two Brothers.
Tigers, tigers, tigers! I woke up that morning asking "Know what today is? TIGER MOVIE DAY!" I turn into a four year old about tigers and was greatly impressed. There was growling. There was play. There was cute, fuzzy, striped tiger cubs.

Anyway. (We also watched Spellbound and laughed deliriously at the first girl's father's rancher boss. "He's a... uh... hard-workin'... a hard-workin... a hard-workin Mexican.")

Both my roommates are gone this month, so no-one's around. It makes the being stranded at home a little better, since there's no-one to tangle with. It also makes it lonely. Lonelier still since I can't go out, both because of the lack of transportation and lack of money.

And I think it's making me a little weird.

Someone mentioned John Titor, a alleged time-traveler who was active on the internet in 2000 and 2001. His story is just plausible enough to be considered and just ridiculous enough to be dismissed. For instance, he references (and predicts) some surprising accurate physics and provides some interesting evidence (scanned pages from his time machine's manual) but claims he survived The Second American Civil War AND World War Three and arrived in a 2036 Corvette.

I thought I'd investigate the physics behind his claim. Unfortunately, while I do have a good grasp of general physical theory, this sort of rigorous study (about Kerr fields and Minkowski space) is beyond my grasp of the necessary math. I am consequently learning linear algebra so I can learn the physics. Nerdy, hunh? At least I'll be ready when the bombs drop.
And I've already mastered Gaussian Operations!

I've also (perhaps as a related subject) started listening to Coast to Coast AM. It's sort of an alternate news programme, of the sort that takes UFO abduction and the Mothman seriously. Very X-Files-y. It's nice to listen to late, late at night, when it doesn't freak me out.
Currently, they're talking about subcutaneous microchips and how the government is USING THEM ON US KNOW FOR TRACKING!
To be fair, they do a lot of legitmate non-traditional reporting, like the new Infantfish.

I've also been reading a lot -- Meat is Murder, The Man Who Tried to Save the World and Dr Who: Empire of Death. And listening to classical music like Vivaldi and Beethoven.

However, I removed an error on my Financial Aid paperwork and applied for federal loans, so I hope I get me some money.

Seperated At Birth?

Belle and Sebastian's Sarah Martin
(The one in the back)

And

Gilmore Girls actress Melissa McCarthy.

Top Four Words I Have Learned...

...from watching French* Subtitles for Gilmore Girls: Complete First Season.

1) Desole -- Sorry
2) dingue -- Crazy
3) Fou -- Crazy
4) Tu plaisantes! -- You're kidding!

Okay. So it isn't /French/ French. It's Quebecois. But now I can be quirky in Montreal AND Paris.

Also, I picked up a copy of The Da Vinci Code last week at the used bookstore on Franklin Street. My god, is it awful. The writing is about on par with a talented fourth grader's. Rather than artfully slip in exposition (and there's a lot that needs to be), Dan Brown hammers it in clunky, completely unbelievable dialogue. The prolixity is in humourous contrast to the elementary French spoken by the French characters.
This is aside from the incredible thickness of the protaganists (It's an anagram, dammit, just like the first fourteen clues were!) -- the world's least convincing Art Historian and cryptologist.
Then again, if you can tell them apart, you've done better than I: the author does little work in making them believable as characters or even noticeably different from each other.
You may also want to ignore the research the author did -- apparently consisting solely of cracking open a used copy of Holy Blood, Holy Grail. Which he cites in the story (authenticity or lack of creativity -- you be the judge!) and whose authors are condensed into another unbelievable character (he's British 'cause he's stuffy!) with a name that's another tired anagram. It is Sir Leigh Teabing, which comes from Richard Leigh, one author of the Holy Blood book and Michael Baginet, the other.
And since he's English, he must like TEA.
The book's overweaning feature is its cocky assurance that this sort of juvenile thinking isn't just clever, it's genius. Of Da Vinci stature. It isn't. It gets a lot plain wrong (the word for a papal bull in French would never create a pun for a bullish person, since the words are different bulle and taureau where we have just 'bull') and a lot close to.
If this is the work of genius it commonly ascribed to be, we're all in a lot of trouble.

I did get on the same trip a compilation of pre-Shakespearean English drama -- it includes Gammer Gurton's Needle, The Shoemaker's Holiday and some liturgical plays. Actual clever stuff and worth reading.

For the record,


I had to go through my archives to find that dream entry. It was weird. Old boyfriends, old dreams, old writing...
Makes you think.

You know...

Carly Simon should totally do an Amish version of "You're So Vain" and call it "You're So Plain"...


Oddish

I've mentioned before about recurring dreams -- go to the 9/25 entry. I have my Doctor Who book one. I have my teeth one (though not lately -- I think I have enough real things to worry about right now).
I had one last night that I've had a few times, but this one was the most vivid of the series.
The Hasty Heart is a bad play, so bad that the 1949 movie starred Ronald Reagan. (I can't even be bothered to tell you the plot, but you can read it here) but it was my first paid gig in the theatre. I played an Australian named Digger. I was in it 8 years ago, after my freshman year of college, at a little school in the town my parent lived in. Anyway.
In this dream, I'm doing the play again. Now. And I have absolutely no idea what my lines are. (The dream prompted me to try to remember some, and I can't.) And I'm about to go on stage. But rather than being upset about it, I'm totally down with it. I'm reading the script and happy to go on and make shit up. Weird.

I feel bad about whining about my birthday. I actually had a really good time. Helen and I went to Outback Steakhouse in honor of Helen's visit. We had the World's Skeeziest Waiter (tm). When he oiled his way up to us the first time and asked "You guyz evah been to Outback b'fore?", Helen and I burst out laughing.

The rest of the night, the Skeeze worked his way closer and closer to Helen, eventually sitting on the seat next to her as he took her entree order. "Do waiters usually do that?" she asked. We lost again it again when he showed his observant side: "Do I detect an accent?"
I was just glad she was too polite to demand I pay her dry cleaning bill.

After that, we were all pretentious and went to Chapel Hill's wine bar and played video games to balance things out. I played Galaga - the world's most advanced form of fun. (Giant. Space. Bugs. What more do you need for fun?) Ms Pac-Man was also played.

Then we went to The OCSC.

On our way home, we stopped at the Harris Teeter, where Helen got me a cake. Yay! It was the first one I'd had in years. It was a chocolate/yellow marble cake with chocolate icing. So good! Then I watched an episode of Dr Who.

My Haul? I got a totally overpriced Dr Who coffee table book called Doctor Who: The Legend which I've been poring over ever since. My parents got me a third Doctor video, The Ambassadors of Death. Miss Helen got me a little spiny anteater keychain and a marvy little book called "50 Places to Eat Southern in New York". Very savvy, no? Miss Laura Llew also mailed me the lovely and below-quoted book Meat is Murder.

Yay!

Dear My Computer:

Why do you have the address for IanSomerhlader.net? I have never navigated you to this site, nor have I even heard of it before you showed up in my history bar. But there was this picture there so it is okay. Please feel free to find such sites for me in the future.

And Just in Time:

ADVICE FOR RECENT ARRIVALS
Dos & Don'ts & More Don'ts for Gay Boy Refugees
Where we learn I am not a Strong Black Woman.

"I want a badge that says 'SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR BAND'!"
-- me

So, I'm growing tired of Chapel Hill. I think I've lived here too long not to be a) a dirty hippy b) a post-graduate student or c) washing down my valium with wine as I pick up the kids from soccer practice.
Or maybe I'm just sick of hipsters in general. I have not discussed my birthday in any great length not because it wasn't fabulous (which it was) but because of one slight incidence that upon reflection, made me peeved.
I called seven people inviting them out to drinks that night. None showed. I had a really good time though, and the free flow of booze kept the sound of me cursing Dirty Hipsters to a minimum. The event nevertheless brought home to certainty my working assumption that hipsters are relatively shallow, undependable and flighty group. As does the fact that not one has called since my car died.
Yeah, I'm fine, actually. Thanks for asking.

Then there's the people I work with. Mostly good people, it's true, but then there's this story.
Dan the Man is one of the cashiers I work with. Dan the Man is special, as in the Olympics. He disappears every year for a few weeks to go to Viet-Nam, his homeland. Not too long ago, he came back with a wife.
Who didn't speak English.
Now, while I can't imagine the hijinks THAT household got up to, it appeared that it had an issue. Dan the Man's Wife has a sister left in Hanoi. DTM's Wife apparently constantly worries over her and sends her money from the Nail Shop she works in. But they want her to come over to our country. Specifically, they want her to marry a nice American boy to make it nice and legal.
They've been cogitating over this for some time. Recently, it came to Dan the Man's simple mind.
He'd pay our co-worker C-Space to take marry her.
C-Space needs money, you see. He has nowhere to live (he rents the living room of an apartment where I used to live, if that tells you anything) and no money. Why no money? C-Space has los problemas con drogas. He likes the coca leaves. A lot.
Yeah, Dan! Marry your sister in law off to the local cokehead.
Honestly, it sounds like the set-up for a new FOX sit-com...

Announcer: "He's mildly retarded! She can't speak a word of English! Together they're SPECIAL WED! Friday nights only on FOX!"

DTM: "Honey! C-Space and I are in jail! Send help!"

C-Space: "Ohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohman!"

DTMW: "Me rove you rongtime!"

DTM: "No sweetie! Get a lawyer! A law-yer! Like Matlock!"

Fresh Original and X-citing!

Even Weird Girls...

...Like Gay Porn.

Goddam Furris. Have some real sex.

"Until my twenty-first birthday I went by the name of Steven Morrissey when I drank. People in-the-know called me Steve-o."
Joe Pernice, from the 33 1/3 book Meat is Murder

Damn. Wish I wrote that.

...And the shoe goes bam

The verdict on my car?
"The engine's blown. We can't fix it." Apparently, a fuel rod has blown and the oil pan is leaking into the water system, a problem endemic to Neons.
They should have just patted my head and said "It's too sick to live, sweetheart."

This news is of course incredibly depressing: I can't afford a new car. I was crying last night at work because I didn't know what to do.
However, having slept, things did look better today. The car still works (barely), so I can get back and forth to work at least temporarily. I'm looking for places that buy used cars (the body at least is in good shape) to try to sell it and buy a used one to last for the next few weeks. At best, I can wait till my car officially dies, and then have it towed to the perspective buyer.
But I'm still pretty disheartened. I'm too frightened to drive anywhere other than to or from work. My parent's assistance? Offering to buy a classified ad in the local paper. They left today to go to St Louis, as well. Nice to know they're at hand to help me as I freak out...

In other news, I finished The Eleventh Tiger today. It was pretty good; the characterization of the TARDIS crew was vivid, even if it took the relationship between Ian and Barbara far too far. It picks up subtext and dashes ahead...
The plot was workable, if not fascinating. Unnamed aliens orchestrate the apparent revival of Qin Shi Huangdon, the first emperor of China. His growing concern over his identity is a nice twist, even if the super-powerful but mysterious alien intelligence isn't for David McIntee, the author.

Song of the day: "Be Like the Bluebird" from the score of Anything Goes. Specifically, from the 1989 London revival. Why this song has been stuck in my head all day is beyond me (though I did listen to the album on Sunday) but its placidly uplifting message has helped my mood. Anticipation of the new Cole Porter biopic out soon? (Psst: click on the link and you can hear some of the music from the disc...)

Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

So, in a sign of amusing lack of patience, my car was fuming smoke from its tailpipe yesterday the whole last mile home from work. This impressed on me the need to take it to a mechanic for a diagnosis.
Surprisingly, the car made the trip back to Chapel Hill and the mechanic next door. It's currently in dock, waiting autop-- examination.
I have no money to repair it. I was so nervous about it that my hands were shaking and I was in what Southerners call a state of distaction. Until I thieved a glass or two of wine from my cafe....

I hope I can make it home with the car.

ReLaunch!

So it's been a while. I've been busy. I worked on a play for Burning Coal theatre in Raleigh, The Man Who Tried To Save The World. I was the dramaturg and assistant director. What with my day job and all, I was working 18 hours a day. Not much time was left for anything else.
Allow me to go over some salient points that will lead up to my relaunching of this site:

--I applied to graduate school, at Glasgow University and Hunter College in Manhattan. I got in both places.

--Hunter College gave me money to go there.

--I'm going there.

--Which means I'm moving to New York.

--And moving there with my boyfriend.

Which means this place will be an opportunity to document that. What with me being from a small town in North Carolina originally and a small city there now, it's sure to be filled with all manner of comic misadventures, like Green Acres in reverse.

*thumps pitchfork twice

Some Common Questions Answered

Aren't you excited?
Yes. Sometimes. Right now, my car is going through the last stages of its protracted death (complete with death rattle), and I am very poor, so right now I'm pre-occupied with managing to ge the car fixed somehow, still make it to work, and still save money for the upcoming move. I have visions of the whole thing falling through, and me working a crappy job at Whole Foods Market forever.
Vivid visions.
At night.
When I should be asleep.

Aren't you scared?
Not really. I'm too stupid to be properly afraid of New York at this point. I don't even regard it as hell, as all well-brought-up Southern boys should. It still seems kinda cool.
I am concerned about getting around. I have no -- and I mean this literally -- no sense of direction. I can't wait for amusing stories of me wandering the city lost.

Aren't you happy?
I got into grad school. That was the big thing, the thing that proved something to me. Making it work out will make me happier.

Nervous about Moving In With Someone?
Not until married people/people in LTR tell me how good it is. "Oh," they say "it's great you're moving in together," in roughly the same tone as the pod people who say "Jooooiiinnnn Uuuussss" in bad 50s films.

Tell Us Your Specific Plans!
Uhh, thanks Parent/Well Meaning Friend/Nosy Customer as soon as I know something, I'll pass that on...
It may be just a few weeks away, but the plans are still sketch. Saves ruining plans, anyway.

So there. Plans for the future.
Send me money now and I'll name a stupid occurrence after you -- "The Laura Llew Wandering of Queens"!

A Thought From Work...

Every once in a while, I'll see a gay couple with a screaming kid. I think, "Wow, they've been through a lot to have a kid. Legal stuff, red tape, adoption agencies..." I cut them some slack.
But almost every time I see a straight couple with a whiny kid, I think, "Jesus Christ, if he had just pulled out, he'd have saved all of us the irritation."

Meanwhile, check out the Law And Order Coloring Book!

Damn Damn Damn!

I just spent a whole hour writing a re-lanuching post, then I deleted it by accident as I looked up a web address.

Check back here tomorrow when I'm not pissed off and re-write it.

Which Doctor Who are you?


this quiz was made by Auntie Krizu(:>)

And If A Double-Decker Bus...

Still, not a lot interesting to have happened. I finally got around to a mess of email correspondance, to some online music magazines and some friends.
But, here, of some import to the world, proof that Morrissey is in fact a prophet and mighty man, despite his latest release:

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out*

Speaking of keen music, Camera Obscura was on the Gilmore Girls tonight. It leads me to say: "I /told/ you they'd be popular." Just like Franz Ferdinand. And just like Architecture in Helsinki will be.

Just call me the Indie St John of the Wilderness. And I bet if he hadn't had his head cut off, he'd say "I told you that Jesus would be popular," as well.

I probably should go on about the qualities of the Spring, the yellow-green buds that adorn the trees, the flurries of dogwood just inside the local woods, the return of birdsong to the air, the perfect blue of the sky et al. But it's been pissing down lately, which is nice because it removes the pollen that coats everything. Nothing like a layer of jizz on everything outdoors...

And yes, I'm still cogitating in the 28 Days Later/Dawn of the Dead piece.

Post brought to you by: CO, obviously; Essex Green, The Long Goodbye; The Luckmsiths, Midweek, Midmorning EP; and by default The Queen Is Dead by the Smiths.

Book of the Day: Dr Who: Loving The Alien. Giant Ants! British Space Programmes in the 1950s! Parallel Universe infiltrating our own! It's the sequel to Illegal Alien, my favourite BBC Dr Who Story! Whoot! Maybe I'll soon have a handle on the 87 plot strings!

*This news item brought you via Ms C. Pigtails.

Alas, nothing interesting has happened to me lately.
Friday was nice: it was payday, so I went out and bought a few things: Jonathan David by Belle and Sebastian on vinyl, Dr Who: Scream of the Shalka, and Blackadder II on DVD.
I also saw Dawn of the Dead this weekend. I may write a decent piece on its relationship to 28 Days Later.
I also tidied up the Template around here as well.
More intelligent writing later.

My, it has been a while, hasn't it?
I've been very busy lately, between work and rehearsal. To illustrate, here's my schedule for the past several weeks.

6.00 am: Alarm goes off
6.20: Actually get out of bed. Get ready for work
7.10: Arrive to work 10 minutes late
7.35: First dose of espresso after successful open of cafe (3 shots, chocolate, milk)
10.35: Second dose, since by now I'm falling asleep again (2 shots, straight)
12.30 pm: Lunch
1.59: Final dose of espresso one minute before clocking out (3 shots, chocolate, milk)
2.30: Home. Twenty minutes of FF3 before my contacts stop working
3.00: Crawl into bed and read for an hour before eyes stop working
4.00: Nap!
6.00: Leave for rehearsal
7.00: Rehearsal in Raleigh
10.00: Leave for home. Listen to World Financial Report on BBC World Service on NPR for no obvious reason.
11.00: Arrive home. Eat dinner.
12.00: Pass out.

You'll notice a distinct lack of social functions there. You'll also have to thrown in radio shows, Music Staff and time spent on preparing matieral for rehearsal.
Bleagh, bleagh, bleagh.

But it's all (temporarily) over. Waiting for Godot opened Thursday to a modest crowd. You can read an accurate, if not glowing, review here. You'll notice the lack of the phrase "...and the dramatug sucked ass" so I must have done okay.*

I also found out I got into the MA Dramaturgy program at Hunter College, which is in Manhattan. I'm still waiting to hear back from Glasgow University, but right now at least I'm leaning towards going to New York.

I've been asked to be the Assitant Director for Burning Coal's (the company who did Waiting for Godot) next show, an original work called The Man Who Tried to Save the World. It's exciting as a) dramaturgs like new plays and b) it's another professional gig before Fall and c) I'm happy about working with this director and writer. More about this later, I'm sure...

And really that's all that's happened. I beat Final Fantasy 3 today. I've been playing that for several weeks, so it was a nice feeling. But it IS a 15 year old game... I might be starting Final Fantasy 4 or The Legend of Zelda 3 sometime soon.

*This actually never occurs in reviews

This post brought to you by: The Essex Green: The Long Good-Bye (cause it's SPRING now); Camera Obscura: Underachievers Please Try Harder (on VINYL), Baxendale: "The Nineteen Sixties".

Books: Holy Blood, Holy Grail: I bought this the night I got the email from Hunter, since I've wanted to read it for ages. It's about Le Prieure de Sion, which may be an actual secret society behind the Knight Templar and whose origin is the sons of Christ, or may just be a group of Fench Aristo Jokers. It ranges from extremely well researched and thoughtful to groping for justification... I'm just not sure at which points. Interestingly, Henry Lincoln was a writer for Dr Who in the 60s.

Also: Blue Box, a sixth Doctor Dr Who PDA. I've also recently finished Heritage and Fear of the Dark.

Word of the Day: Via the above Holy Blood, Holy Grail --
The term Holy Grail first appears in the works of 13th Century troubadours, knight/poets like Chretien de Troyes and Wolfram von Eisenbach as "San Graal". This may be an accidental or deliberate obfuscation of the Medieval French "Sang Real" (same pronunciation) which in Modern French would be "Sangre Royale" and English "Royal Blood".

Recovery is a Process

I was recently savagely attacked by a Welshman. Not this kind, more this kind.
I have consequently gone into a period of hiding/shriving.

Like a Horse, Boyz...

Jay spins tunes as DJ Crude Stallion Get your dj name @ Quiz Me

WHOOT!

The BBC announced the new Dr Who today.
Christopher Eccleston.

He's been in 28 Days Later and Cracker, both of which I own on DVD, and therefore, are swell. I very much approve.

The writers have also been anounced for the series: Russel T Davies, who created Queer as Folk; Mark Gatiss, of The League of Gentlemen; who with Paul Cornell established the New Adventures (Cornell also recently wrote BBCi's Scream of the Shalka and wrote this months's EDA based on it); Stephen Moffat wrote the 35th Anniversary sketch with Rowan Atkinson, The Curse of Fatal Death.

The series starts filming in a few weeks, to be broacast next November.

...My only shame: This guy knew about the new Dr Who before me.

Anyway, your local Nighthawk is off to drink a toast to new Who!

So, Friday was a major coup in that I finally mailed off my grad school applications. I has always assumed that that would be the end of the difficult part, since it would be out of my hands and I could stop worrying.
Ha!
I think I worry more about it now that ever, since I can't actually /do/ anything about them now.
I'm worrying a lot in general: my car is surely dying and I haven't got a dime for the no doubt costly repairs it will take. Also, I appear to have some manner of gastro-intestinal disorder. But the whole no-money siutation also means no doctor.
Also, I think my bed is falling apart.
Bleah...

Rehearsals started yesterday for Waiting for Godot. It was exciting being an "Actual Theatre Professional" and I think I'm doing okay.
Except for the whole "locking my keys in the car while they were in the ignition" deal. At least AAA is free.

Work is... interesting right now. One of the cafe workers is an elderly man with a questionable mental state. Right now, he's difficult. Common consensus is that he's off his meds. Along with the fact that the manager has been on vacation for the past two weeks and the assistant manager had started two days prior, George has turned into a terror. He's literally acting like a three year old: tantrums, walking away from the cafe. Generally, he's incompetent and now he's a burden. Saturday, he had every single person in the cafe livid -- as in calling for his immediate termination.

To soothe myself from this, I went out and bought Belle and Sebastian's Legal Man 12 inch. They also had finally gotten in I'm A Cuckoo, which I also bought. I was baffled to find Matt Henderson and Patrick Doyle, two sinister kids, thanked. I still haven't found out why. I'm inappropriately curious and apt to ponder possible orgies.
I also cashed my tax return check (allowing for such great expense) and then wasted some more money on DVDs (The Fellowship of the Ring and Dr Who: The Seeds of Death) and books (Loving the Alien and Blue Box). I even now regret this expenditure.

I've been unusally moody lately, and a storm Sunday knocked out power, leaving me to read by candelight and ponder my troubles.

Yeah... This was a bitchy moany post. I apologize.

The only really good thing lately has been some guy, who has very patiently listend to me moan at length. He sure is swell.

Current reads: The Suns of Caresh. It's good, but I don't feel like writing a review.
Current music: Franz Ferdinand's new album came out today!
Vocabulary word: Morpion -- a louse.

More results!


You're a Perfect Kiss. You and your best friend
are a little more than friends now aren't
you...? hehe


What kind of Hot Boy Kiss are you??
brought to you by Quizilla

I bet you were thinking, "He only post this as an excuse to have a hott picture up."
Bet you're right.

Yarr

My, it has been a while hasn't it?
Nothing very much exciting has happened.

Well.
I went away for a few day's vacation. I went up North to visit this gut I met. I don't suppose that was very interesting, if you weren't me or that guy. We spent a lot of time sitting around watching TV (esp The Family Feud) and snuggling.

On Valentine's Day, we went up to New York for the day. Most of what we did was stuff that guy wanted to do, since our last trip was mostly stuff I wanted to do. We went to the Mass Transit Museum, located in a disused subway stop across from the Borough Hall in Brooklyn. It was actually very interesting, all about the Els and buses and streetcars they used in the city, as well as Everything There Is to Know about the subway. The bottom level, the actual disused platform, had actual subway cars dating back to the 1910s. Not being a city denizen (a citizen?), I wasn't so intrigued, but I'd definitely pay $5 to go back.

We also went to a little book store and the Union Square Barnes and Noble, several music stores like The Other Place and St Marks Sounds. Happily, I can say in this respect, New York ain't got nothin on no Chapel Hill. (Camera Obscura's new disc cheaper and with more copies here. What else do you need to know?)

We went to an English restaurant, Tea and Sympathy for dinner. The food -- which I expected to be awful -- was great. I had a Tweed Pie -- salmon and cod baked with a cover of Mashed Potatoes. (That guy had bangers and Mash.) They even had Irn Bru. What was Scotland's Own soft drink like? Rust orange in color is about all I can say. The favour was totally unique. We also stopped in their store where I got CHOCOLATE HOBNOBS and tea and a Cadbury Egg.
After that? I walked up to EssaBagel and wandered around ChinaTown and went into a Virgin Megastore (I was too cool to even buy the Franz Ferdinand import CD...)
After that, we drove home -- we had parked in Newark and were just happy to make it back to my Little Red Car.

My biggest kick on /every/ trip to New York is the subway. Being a well-brought up Southern boy, I was raised to believe that the New York subway was as close to hell as a man might get on this Earth. Granted, about 1982 this was probably correct, but in the post-Guiliani world, I get a rush of guilty pleasure riding them. Especially the A Train...
Hee hee...

I'll post again soon.

Request: Denied!

That's right.
Alicia's Livejournal is /officially/ too spicy for Whole Foods Market.

See?

Reality Strikes Back

Dear Jay:
Under no circumstances can you bitch about your haircut when a) you went to a place called Great Clips for Hair and b) pointed out someone in Teen People as the person whose haircut you wanted.

Bet you miss us now we're gone,
Your hair


Dear Jay:
I couldn't help but notice from the above you wanted to have ****** ******'s hair. What you ACTUALLY wanted was to LOOK like him. Unfortunately, you'd need a dedicated team of liposuctionists, dieticians, personal trainers, personal groomers and personal shoppers, not to mention a fully-functioning Time Machine.
Doctor Who don't make no house calls, yo.

Shut up and eat some pizza,
Your Fat Ass

On the plus side, I did get the new Dr Who novel and The Boy With the Arab Strap on vinyl today, so I can swill cheap vodka, read fan-boy wanking and listen to Sad Bastard music in the corner while everyone else goes to see BAILEY'S COMET at the circus....

I Am A Grumpy Fuck

The last few days, I've been in an awful mood that I just can't get out of (cf. Mr Grainger in Good-bye, Mr Grainger, Arthur Brough's last episode of Are You Being Served?). I attribute it to the following:

A) Not being around people enough (see the following)
B) Work. Work is particularly stressful right now. The assistant manager we all loved, Big Al, left this week to move to California. Rather than pick anyone currently employed in the cafe (and therefore /appropriate/ to be a manager) they hired someone new. Now, as the current Manager is... a nice guy but totally unfit to manage, the assistant manager is the one with the real power. But since he comes from outside...
Also, in picking someone from outside, it screws over the people already employed in the cafe, who deserve a promotion. Now, as I'm [hopefully] going to grad school in the Fall, this doesn't include me, but the other people who /weren't/ hired are pissed. And those who have axes to grind are also pissed and using this chance to be publicly pissed.
Leaving me in the middle of all this politics. Eep! It's all quite stessful.
C) Grad school stress. It all costs more than I have available, between transcript requests, GRE reporting, applications fees, stamps and begging people to write nice recommendations. Let alone the stress of worrying if I can actually GET IN!
D) My dramaturgy work, or Needing To Do More Of.
E) Trying to get enough money to visit someone... Stupid snowstorm making me miss work and not make money!
F) My friends ditching me! Okay, this is totally me being dumb, Having no money (see above -- no work, for me = no food, so I waste money BUYING food to live) which means I don't go out, so I don't see any friends.
But in my vain, mean-spirited minutes, I am pissed I'm missing the damn circus.
G) Stupid XDU people bitching about overplaying Camera Obscura! OVERPLAYING CO?! YOU STUPID FUCKS! S.U.C.K. I.T.!

BUT. I am amused for minutes a day by...

A) The video for Step Into My Office Baby, on the single CD release. Colburn getting mad action! Yes! Martin with a bad moustache! Yes! Murduch as a side-burned vicar! Yes! Bad 70s Apparel! YES!!!
B) CD Alley after four months have gotten in my vinyl copy of TWATTYBUS!
C) WEEBL AND BOB! Oh, Secsy Idleberry! Thank You! Oh, how I needed this! Even if it was Mark that properly told me to go, you're much hotter!
D) I made a new drink at work, White Cocoa. It's quite nice having people at work walk up and say "There's a new drink people are talking about. I must try it!"
E) Borders has in the bew 8th Doctor book, Sometimes Never.
F) I illegally copied Underachivers, Please Try Harder. It rocks.


Also, Mad Congrats to Flapson and Alicia, who both got into the UNC Library Sciences School. Especially with Alicia's quote:
"You know a cute Indie Boy in got into my School?"

...
Yo Kev: A HINT!

Meh...

In a recent post, I talked about gay marriage. I think I made it sound like I was universally in support of it. This is sort of misleading. While I am in support of the rights it pre-supposes for long-term couples, I have some issues with it.
I think it puts gay couples in a very weird position. On one hand, obviously any couple would want the tax breaks, hospital visitation rights, adoption rights, etc that marriage would offer, and certainly I don't think couples should be denied these rights merely on the basis of their gender.
But on the other hand, it's a very sneaky technique used by the mainstream to make gays fit into its norms, to make a gay couple identical to a straight couple when obviously there are differences. And to show any reticence at taking on the role of the mainstream is as good as showing reticence to the rights they offer...
I know many people/couples/situations that do not and will not subscribe to a traditional idea as a 'married couple' and therefore will not be rewarded with the rights the government gives to 'traditional' couples.
Also, I think in establishing a marriage, you establish certain (gender-based) roles, and viewpoint I share my friend Karen, who actually was married. To be fair, I only know one other married couple (Kieth and Kate) and I have not discussed this with them.
I feel that, if I were to make a commitment to some boy (Obviously here, more than I have already) that I would want it to be based on the unique, personal relationship I had with him rather than some sort of adherence to a role. For me, a real commitment would hinge on the fact that you have the freedom to get up and leave at any point without repercussion, but you voluntarily chose daily to be with your person day after day.
I sort of look at monogamy in askance, anyway. For me, anyway, I don't think sex is that big of a deal... There are other, more important agents of compatibilty and other reasons for a couple to stay together. I was talking to Big Al at work the other day about What Would End a Relationship, and for me, sex never really entered into it. I mean, for any reason some one might cheat, I was pretty relaxed about it.... If your were just bored with your lover, or wanted to try something your lover wouldn't do, or just plain ol' had the chance to fuck a hott person on the fly -- none of these would really bother me, as long as the person came back. It wouldn't even particularly bother me if I didn't know they cheated, as long as we had some other basis for a relationship besides sex.
That said... I have never been cheated on, so all this is said with a helping of blessed innocence.
Also -- much more importantly -- I am very involved with someone who does not share these views, so I'm certainly not going to sleep around now.

Anyway, see below for Sen -- and Presidential Candidate -- John Edwards reply to my query on his stance on gay marriage.

In other news, I had the most distrubing dream -- I was in my high school American History class when a nuclear bomb dropped. People in front of the window were burned by the flash, and I did the old duck but worried cause I had no cover. The thing I remember most was the screaming that didn't end. I told myself this was a dream, and I should wake up but I didn't and was sure I was really there...
I did wake up, eventually covered in sweat and out of breathe. Weird, hunh?

I hope I can break out of this foulsomely ill mood I'm in...

Soundtrack: Camera Obscura, as overplayed on WXDU, Underachievers Please Try Harder. (No 2 on this week's Top 88!)
Current Book: Dr Who - Emotional Chemisty. Russia: 1812, 2024, 5000. What connects them? Beats me, but it's heavy with reference to Magnus Greel (The Talons of Weng-Chiang) so it must be interesting. Mind the Zygma beams! Also, it has OGRON: Russia does UNIT...

Addendum !:

Dear Mr. Eckard:

Thank you for contacting me regarding H.J. Res. 56, legislation
proposing an amendment to the Constitution related to marriage. I appreciate
hearing from you.

As you may know, states generally maintain the authority to establish the
definition of and the requirements for marriage. However, current federal law
defines marriage as "a legal union between one man and one woman as husband and
wife" and defines "spouse" as "a person of the opposite sex who is a husband or
a wife."

H.J. Res. 56 proposes a constitutional amendment declaring that marriage in the
United States can only consist of the union between a man and a woman. This
amendment would also state that neither the federal Constitution, the
constitution of any state, nor state or federal law, could be construed to
require that marital status be conferred upon unmarried couples or groups. H.J.
Res. 56 has been referred to the House Judiciary Committee.

As a matter of personal belief, I do not support gay marriage, although
I believe that gays and lesbians in committed relationships have both rights and
responsibilities and should be entitled to partnerships benefits under our laws.

I also have deep reverence for our Constitution, and believe it should
be amended only when absolutely necessary. I am not able to support this
legislation. Please be assured that I will keep your strong views about this
issue in mind as it is considered by the Senate.

Again, thank you for contacting me. Please feel free to keep in touch.

Yours sincerely,

John Edwards
United States Senate