December 29, 2004

All For Me Grog, Me Jolly Jolly Grog
Here's to you and yours this holiday season. May your shores be calm and your ships sturdy and strong. As the new year creeps up on us, I find myself looking for a Midwestern pub to celebrate and stomp out some old time sea shanties. I want huge iron tankards of mead to slam down on worn mahogany bars. I want to chant out dusted maritime disaster songs and sing wild tales of nautical adventure men and their women whom they long to come home to.

I found this wonderful site that has a huge index of sea shanties, many of the songs have MIDI files to give you the basic melody of the song. A complimentary site is found here and offers a bit more historical background on the songs. There's lyrics and MIDI files as well. Favorite song today is The Bonny Ship The Diamond - "O she was lost to the ice in 1819, a finer boat you never have seen". Another one of my favorites is Whiskey Johnnie. Turns out my name is not just the generic term for toilets and folks who buy prostitutes but also the generic term for a merchant seaman. Thus many songs are composed about me. Could be that 'Sea Shanties' are the best genre of folk songs ever.

Make sure you're singing the right shanty for the right occasion. From the index of Sea Shanties we learn the shanty types:

Short Drag Shanty
Short drag or short haul shanties were for tasks requiring quick pulls over a relatively short time, such as shortening or unfurling sails.

Long Drag Shanty
Long drag or halyard shanties were for heavier work requiring more setup time between pulls. For example, to get a heavy sail up to the mast, a shanty that gave the men a rest in between the hauls was what was required. The same shanty could also be used to lower the sails. This type of shanty usually has a chorus at the end of each line. These songs were used for long, heavy periods of labor.

Capstan Shanty
Capstan (or windlass) shanties were used for long repetitive tasks, that simply need a sustained rhythm. Raising or lowering the anchor while winding up the heavy anchor chain was their prime use. This winding was done by pushing round and round at the capstan bars, which required a long and continuous effort. These are the most devloped of the work shanties.

Forecastle Shanties
In the evening, when the work was done, it was time to relax. Singing was a favored method of relaxation. The songs sung could come from places visited, either at home or in some foreign land. Naturally, songs of love, adventure, pathos, and famous men, battles, or just plain funny songs topped the list.

Whaling Shanties
Life on a whaler was worse than any other type of vessel, except maybe that of a pirate ship (in the sense of surviving). Voyages typically lasted from two to three years, and you also had the ever-present stench of whale oil. Chasing a whale could lead to the ship being smashed by the whale's tail. Many sailors were maimed or killed by the tail.

So for this New Years Eve, with the work of the year behind us let's raise our glasses and sing a few Forecastle Shanties and sing ourselves into relaxation.

Also, books about sea shanties and recordings of sea shanties.

December 23, 2004

Fucking Cold
The misses forwarded me this mystery image this morning.

Just Say No
Oh boy. Minus 25 degree wind chill outside this morning but no real snow to speak of. This is fucked up. If it's going to be this goddamn cold out, well then there better be some snow because people around here take their 'White Christmas' very seriously and it's hard to get swept up in the romantic nostalgia of Christmas when you look outside and all you see is your dead brown lawn and frozen squirrels dropping lifeless from the skeletal branches of your backyard apple tree. Come on. Indiana's got like 25 inches of the fluffy white stuff, even New Mexico has snow - but we got shit. We're Minnesota for christsakes! I got my gear and my shovel in hand, now put me to work moving S.N.O.W.

Yesterday, I secured the remaining bounty that will be handed out over the next couple of days. On these frigid mornings, I give high praise to the online e-tailers and the inventor of the indoor mall. God bless you. Next year however, I will be making a t-shirt that says, "I am not interested in any of your up-selling, so please don't even ask." Or just a little 5 by 7 hand card that simply says 'No!', which I can flash at will.

Can I help you find something sir? No!
Are you interested in a pair of sox with that? No!
You qualify for a free magazine subscription. No!
Would you like to sign up for our rewards bonus card that gives you an additional 15% off a whole bunch of garbage you really don't need but because you invested now in this card you will be compelled to buy in the future? No!

What really pisses me off is when I'm greeted at the check out line by the phrase, "Just this for you today?". What? I've got like five items here totaling $150 bucks. That's not enough? What do you people want from me? Blood? Charity? You can't have it.

Everything that comes out of the retail workers mouth is delivered in this tired scripted language that makes them all sound like broken repeating robots. For some fun, try interjecting a line that's not on the holiday shopping script, something like, "Where does this green bus deliver the oatmeal pancakes? I hear they're quite tasty." Bam! You can watch there tiny brains explode right before your eyes. Careful though, because as soon as you paralyze one of the checkout people, you will incur the wrath of all the other shoppers for gumming up the machinery. Things can turn ugly fast.

One thing I'm actually enjoying this holiday season is rediscovering old mix tapes from high school and college. Especially anything with Anthrax (the band not the poison) on it. The iPod is abandoned for old black Maxell tapes that are dirty and crusted with cola stains and other deposits accumulated from being kicked around on the bottom of some past vehicle's floor. What I really want for Christmas is my old yellow Sony 'Sports' Walkman, before I accidentally took it camping and placed it in a backpack with an unsecured bottle of 100% DEET mosquito repellant. When I removed it from the pack there was nothing left but a melted and disfigured hunk of plastic.

Currently my favorite Christmas song is 'Xmas for the Skins' by Crucial Youth.

December 21, 2004

Popsicle Salad
Finally some snow here this morning to go along with our uncomfortably cold temperatures. The weather guy is predicting a high of 1 for Thursday. That should be fun. Yesterday the town was decorated by thin sheets of ice, which left me in a very uncomfortable spot with my mailman as I hadn't any salt to put down. If I don't put some down today, he's sure to write me a nasty note or worse, lose my christmas packages in some dumpster as he curses our house. He probably wouldn't think twice about smashing our packages, "Sorry about your smashed package sir, but you see, I SLIPPED ON YOUR ICE!!"

Yesterday, I came out of a meeting downtown to my car that was parked at a meter. There was a car parked in front of mine and car parked in back. Then there was a huge delivery truck parked on the side of my car, effectively boxing me in. If this was summer, I probably would have shrugged my shoulders and wandered up to a coffee house, returning later without incident. But this is not summer and that's not what happened. I was cold and livid. I finally saw the delivery guy trying to come out of a building. He was carrying a huge box covered in big bold face 'fragile' stickers. I put aside my scrooge face for a second and tried to give him a hand with the door. He just looked at me with a devil face, pushed the cart out the door and then took a sharp turn. And then this is where the box falls off the cart and all you hear is this this awful sound like a crystal chandelier falling thirty feet onto a marble floor. Oh man it was awful. I cringed for like a minute. But the delivery guy doesn't even seem to notice. Just shoves the box back on the cart and gets it ready to put in his truck. Reminded me of that Jim Carry movie where he's a UPS guy playing soccer with someone's fragile package. Takes the guy about another five minutes to move his truck. Oh Merry Merry - I need to go buy some salt.

December 18, 2004

Skelton: Ale Wiues Downe
This jacket design from A Selection of Poems by John Skelton contains a contemporary woodcut depicting Skelton's famous character, Elenor Rumming the alewife. Apparently, Skelton wasn't very fond of Elenor, for an 'alewife' is a foul smelling and awful looking fish that is native to the Atlantic and is listed on most invasive species lists. I believe at the time (1523), John Skelton was king of the poetry slam. Here is a sample form 'The Tunning of Elenor Rumming':

Her eyen gowndy
Are full unsowndy,
For they are blered;
And she gray hered;
Jawed lyke a jetty;
A man would have pytty
To se how she is gumbed,
Fyngered and thumbed,
Gently joynted,
Gresed and annoynted
Up to the knockles;
The bones of her huckels
Lyke as they were with buckels
Togyther made fast:
Her youth is farre past:
Foted lyke a plane,
Legged lyke a crane;
And yet she wyll jet,
Lyke a jollyvet,
In her furred flocket,
And gray russet rocket,
With symper the cocket.

I myself am trying to work in some of these quotes of John Skelton's into my daily language. I especially like, "There is nothynge that more dyspleaseth God, Than from theyr children to spare the rod." Which roughly translates to 'God wants you to beat your kids silly with a very big stick'.

All of this is good research for a book I'm working on called: "The Skeltons: A Heritage Soaked in the Ale of Savagery".

I thought I would also include here a passage from Robert Graves's toast to John Skelton:

What could be dafter
Than John Skelton's laughter?
What sound more tenderly
Than his pretty poetry?
So where to rank old Skelton?
He was no monstrous Milton,
Nor wrote no "Paradise Lost,"
So wondered at by most,
Phrased so disdainfully,
Composed so painfully.
He struck what Milton missed,
Milling an English grist
With homely turn and twist.
He was English through and through,
Not Greek, nor French, nor Jew,

Also, from a great article entitled John Skelton - Godfather of Rap, by Robert Skelton, we learn that Skelton gave us the phrases: "I Smell a Rat", "By hook or by crook" and my all time favorite, "In spite of his teeth." Robert also goes on to compare some of Skelton's poetic stanzas with the some of the best hip hop moguls. Robert proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Beastie Boys sample all their good material from the Skeltons. Check this quote from Robert's article:

Listen to these lines from his poem To Mistress Margaret Hussey:

Erst that ye can find

So courteous, so kind,

Of merry Margaret, as midsummer flower,

Gentle as falcon or hawk of the tower.

Whereas 500 years later the Beastie Boys tell us:

We're giving you soul power

I like it sweet and sour

When it comes to rhymes and beat designs

I'm at the control tower

December 17, 2004

Pomp and Circumstance
Last night watched the Little Brother graduate from Metro State University. Congratulations to him. Whoop. Whoop. The new Saint Paul Chief of Police was the commencement speaker. He set out to break some sort of personal best by giving a speech in under seven minutes. He even had another cop time him. I don't know if he was running late for something or just wanted to make it home in time to watch the final episode of The Apprentice, but it seemed like an odd thing to do. So he launches into this speech, talking extraordinarily fast and everyone in the auditorium looks over at the poor interpreter for the hard of hearing who has just crapped his pants because there's no way he's going to be able to keep up with The Chief. The Chief got him beat.

I got to hand it to The Chief, in his seven minutes he had some sapient sage butter to spread on the sober graduates, toasting in their robes. Learn from this hot tamale of balanced astuteness: "Success is the child of audacity".

!!!!!-?-!-??

How about that? After being struck by that knowledge bomb, I now plan to follow those words to the letter! By being rude, cocky, and shameless, I'm'a gonna swagger my ass up your ladder and gnaw off your brass rings of decorum and courtesy. And I wont stop chewing until "you count your friends on a hand of amputated fingers". I will stand at the top satiated by the curdle of blood.

Whoa. Too much coffee this morning?

I would like to know tho, if success is indeed the child of audacity, then one would assume that audacity is the mother, right? So then, who is the father of audacity or is success being raised by a single parent? Immaculate conception? Can't rule it out. Or can we? To much to think about for a Friday. Must move on to simpler matters:

Wookie Christmas. Featuring Chewbacca's little one's Lumpy and Itchy.
Small Oranges.
You have bad taste in music.
Cool fridges.
Modern Bird Houses.

Today's photo is from a book by German Photographer Robert Lebeck. The book is entitled Angeberpostkarten, which I think translates to something approximating 'swanky postcards'.

December 15, 2004

Collateral
Rented the Michael Mann masterpiece Collateral (trailer) last night. A great movie that I wish I had seen in the theaters. Michael Mann is the king director in my book. His films are so focused and finely crafted with intense visual detail. I would love to see a feature on DVD's that allows the viewer to remove all dialog, so that you're just watching the visuals with the only sounds coming from the soundtrack and movie score. The low lighting and night photography in Collateral are arresting and beautiful and paint a picture of L.A. that I haven't seen in any other movie. From Thief, which was shot in Chicago, to Miami Vice, it's obvious that Mann knows how to celebrate and mystify a city all at once.

Tom Cruise's performance is efficient and his delivery effortless. I'd like to see him in more roles like this. Roles where he's understated, subtle and, well frankly, not a good guy. Mann does a great job of stripping the actor from the character in his films and Cruise is just one example. Mark Ruffalo is also very good in this film. Gotta keep an eye on his work too. Two thumbs way up.

December 13, 2004

Snorkel Hoods Up
This winter is already shaping up to be a weird one. Still no snow on the ground or in the trees. Yet the continental weather map shows Minnesota as the coldest state right now. I'd be in a horrible state if it weren't for the snorkel hood power that's keeping me warm. You can't beat a nice synthetic coyote fur trim.

Friday night was the misses' office holiday party. Went to Fhima's for some fine dining and then we had a rented Limo Bus drive us all over hell and back. In the Limo we had a mix on the Hi-Fi that featured songs that had the names of everyone who was along for the ride. You had your 'Beth' by Kiss and 'Jennifer' by Styx. But the absolute #1 hit of the mix was 'Michael' by Franz Ferdinand. That's a monster song made even better by the Michael in our limo who had created a wonderful spastic dance to go along with the tune. A few things I learned in helping to create this CD mix: 1) It is very helpful if everyone in your party has a very WASPy or biblical name and, 2) Elton John is your go to artists as he tends to name a ton of his songs after WASPy people. This might account for why Elton John is so big at weddings. I wonder if this was a conscious marketing move on his part. Of our small party Elton John could have been used for: Daniel, Timothy, and Emily.

On our way to pick up some of the participants for the party the misses and I got caught up in a bitch of a traffic snarl created by something called the Holidazzle (come and be dazzled). Just from the 10 second glance I got at this junket jubilee, I promised myself that this was one festival I never want any part of.

Saturday, I was recovering. Reading the most ridiculous but highly anticipated (at least in our house) Gorsuch catalog. Can't quite decide which is more disturbing, these $1,298.00 ostrich boots, or these wretched $898.00 Italian red fox clodhoppers. I will admit to liking this all black James Bond Girl outfit, though.

Saturday peeked when the good news came in that Slint reunion tickets were dialed in for both shows in Chicago. March 2005 can't get here soon enough! I have waited so long. In other reunion news, the misses got 15th row tickets to her dream reunion concert - Duran Duran.

Also, a plug for the Fort Snelling Club, that was recently visited. The club was once only for officers but it's now open to the public. It is located on Federal land, which means that the city-wide smoking ban that goes into effect next march will have no jurisdiction over the club. And if that's not enough, no sales tax on food or booze.

December 10, 2004

Vulgar Display of Power
Pantera on the Hi-Fi all day yesterday. Who would gun down one of the heaviest axemen of all time? Where is the motive? My guess is that the disturbed man who went forth with this crime of violence did so after he spent years and years trying to reproduce the solo from 'Floods' - but he just couldn't do it. Couldn't hit all those notes with that much speed. It's a good thing that Ohio police officer gunned him down as I can't even begin to imagine what this guy would have looked like after a nation of Speed Metal freaks, high on revenge got a hold of him. There isn't a security facility strong enough to hold that lynch mob at bay.

December 08, 2004

The Inter-demential Time Travel Cat
So there I was playing around with the digital camera taking pictures of the cats in one of their more rambunctious and playful moods, when I snapped the above image of Leila. I took the photo, looked at the preview screen and then dropped the camera in horror and shock. I turned to the misses, who was sitting on the couch, and I tried to put into words my distress. I might have said something like, "Um, I think there might be something wrong with Leila." She, in turn, looked at what had been captured on the small screen on the back of the camera and shoved it away with both hands, "Yuck. That's horrible, I don't like it. It's scarring me." I thought perhaps there was some trickery being done by the little preview screen, so I went and uploaded the image into iPhoto to see it up close. This only caused further injury to my soul. It's plain for all to see that the cat is fucking transparent in this photo! What the fuck?!? How is this possible? Please, someone with way more photographic expertise than I, explain how this might have happened. My mind has already come up with dozens of fantastical, X-files meets Twilight Zone, explanations for Leila's sudden, ah, disappearance? I can only say that all the settings on the camera were on auto everything, and the photo was taken in the evening so the light wasn't very good as you can see by the darkness of the images. So, hit me with some hard science that will explain all this away. Until I get that explanation I will be looking at my cat with an unhinged sense of the impossible.

December 06, 2004

Photo Walking
Unseasonably warm weather Saturday was the perfect climate for some Minnesota hiking, stopping numerous times to snap a few photos. I really like the compacted metal photo. It looks very organic, like human muscle tissue. The twisted kitchen fork in the middle of the metallic carnage is a nice touch I thought.

Also, Monday feel good movie of the day.

December 02, 2004

Let Me Know How That Works Out For You
I had one of those outings last night where it seemed that everyone in the bar was ten times more inebriated then myself. It was as if they were drinking from some secret well of booze that I hadn't been given the pass codes for. Which was fine by me because whatever these folks were drinking was of some alien proof that I wanted no part of. It was turning the room ugly and hostile. A Wednesday night, where you know that you've got two more working days ahead of you, calls for a little restraint people. For my part, I was into the musical group performing, but the deficiencies of humans who could not control their liquor and did everything in their power to turn the focus from the band to their petty posturing were harshing on my mellow. I know I sound hypocritical in passing judgment. I'm certain my immediate history would point that out in spades or hearts or diamonds, but I feel that my alcoholic state should be matched by everyone in the room at all times. And if you choose to become more intoxicated than me, then I shall be forced to fuck with you in devious ways. For this is the way of the kingdom.

My companion and I were pestered all night by a weathered and vulgar man who could not stand. His head bobbed up and down like a broken yo-yo. He borrowed cigarettes and proceeded to stick them in his nose. His air drumming went too far and beat upon our heads at times. I felt only rage for him and wanted to smash his face with both my fists. Luckily said companion, has a kinder heart and spent a good deal of patient time maneuvering this gentleman away from my double hammers. A women with hair dyed the color of a tasteless italian table wine, attempted to coax men out of their seats to partake in her potted promenade but nobody was having anything to do with her. She was left alone to sock hop in solitaire. I was ashing my cigarette in a long forgotten gin and tonic retired at my table. This women she puts her drink down on our table while yelling at somebody at an adjacent table. Then she reaches back and picks up the glass I had been using as an ash tray and slams the evil concoction in one gulp. It didn't seem to phase her in the least and I didn't protest even though now I had to find a new ash tray.

Also, some musician videos. Check out this guys drum solo. And Mcrorie the human band. Or try Ian MacKaye's new outfit 'The Evens' doing a super catchy children's song for Pancake Mountain, a children's television program created by some DC punkers.