mr_stillhere

Playing with a new digital toy and way to push my personal musical tastes on the handful of people who even know this LiveJournal account exists.

Been in my head all week. Unfortunately, this Scottish group only has an EP out that they're selling out of their MySpace page, which means that I'm probably too cheap to pay the shipping to get it across the ocean to me, no matter how hooked I am on this song and eager to hear more.

Never heard of this band before WFMU linked to 'em, and their lead singer looks like a skinny Neal Hamburger, but they're full of red-hot fiery rockabilly action! Bonus: They put out an album called "Every Song We Fuckin' Know". That's just awesome.

1. This list was initially 50 items long and all composed of actual accusations made against me by people I went to high school with.

2. Technically, I'm not the first Michael Van Vleet in my nuclear family. I had an older brother who passed away before I was born, so my parents just used the same name again.
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A song that never fails to fill me with melancholy. Even the way the singer sings "love you" has the sound of someone who already realizes, as soon as the words leave their lips, that it's too late. Everything has already fallen apart.

Should be listened to on headphones.

You know what makes us human? Not killing spiders. Who knew?



[via Electric Ant Zine blog]

Music from the NYC subways, a punk brass band.

Don't get any goddamn ideas from this. I ain't makin' a habit of it. But when lucitania knocks, that door's gotta open.

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There. I did it.

Good enough?

In the middle of the night, I heard a glass crash on the ground and break. And I knew it was my cat's fault.

We had had friends over yesterday for a day-long party and dishes are piled up everywhere. Couple that with a cat who refuses to acknowledge that she doesn't belong on kitchen counters and you have a recipe for disaster.

So even half awake, the one thought I had when I heard glass was: "I hope she didn't break the scotch glass."

When the wife and I were in Scotland for our honeymoon, we visited a tourist trap called The Scotch Whiskey Heritage Center. It was a waste of money, but at the end we got to keep the bell-shaped glasses that we used for sampling.

It came out yesterday, serving Glen Moray scotch to a friend, and of course, of all the glasses in the kitchen, the one that broke was the one that was carefully packed and came back from Scotland.

--

I had a friend named Wil who collected signed children's books... rare editions, 1st editions, special editions. He also owned a dog. And he told me that there were several occasions where a beloved item from his collection would get chewed up by his dog, and he laughed while he told me. He said that he figured the dog was put on this planet to keep him from getting to attached to material goods.

Which struck me as a very healthy attitude.

--

But I would feel better if there were something the cat valued that I could break in return. Revenge is easier than acceptance.

Things I can see on my desk, from left to right.

1. A copy of Antique Bakery, a translated Japanese comic, sitting on top of a novel by George Perec, translated from French.

2. My wallet.

3. A coffee mug from the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, from which I was drinking tea. It is sitting on a coaster.

4. A black plastic comb.

5. The lid to a Vitamin Water.

6. A computer speaker, standing on some pink post-it notes, standing on a small stack of blank DVD-Rs.

7. A sticker that says "Dubstep" and has a skeleton holding vinyl records.

8. My keys, with a Chinatown fob.

9. A computer mouse.

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It was back in 1982, well after the country had gotten over its obsession with the obstacle-jumping exploits of Evel Kneivel. A small town children's television host in Lawrence, Kansas named Loopy the Clown decided that something had to be done, not just about his own sinking ratings as the action-figure fueled cartoons on competing channels began to ramp up, but also about the declining national profile of clowns in toto.

So he sent out a press release, mostly overlooked, claiming that he was going to set up a ramp in Half Moon Bay, California, down on the beach, and he was going to pack a Dodge Charger with 18 clowns-- more than could conceivably fit in that muscle car-- and he was going to drive the car so fast that he was going to ramp his way to the coast of Hawaii.

What few news outlets actually read the release raised the obvious questions: How was Loopy going to substitute a stunt man for himself, how far would the car make it before crashing into the water, would the driver be able to break a window and get out safely, and how many tax dollars would be spent dredging the vehicle back out? Or could it be allowed to remain on the ocean floor to form the basis for a reef?

So the day arrived and a small crowd of Half Moon Bay locals were there. This was before the days of video recorders being priced cheaply enough for anyone to have capture footage, or we'd be watching this on YouTube instead of reading about it. The only news representative on hand was Charles "Chip" Early of the Half Moon Bay Review.

It's due to Early's account that we know that Loopy managed the first stunt without incident. 18 clowns were seen to enter the Charger, which was situated at the top of a giant wooden ramp. Loopy was clearly seen climbing in last, saluting the crowd through the front windshield, gunning the engine and steering the Charger down the 120 ft. ramp, reaching an estimate 87 mph before reaching the end of the ramp and launching into the air.

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Finally.