Sdtrk: ‘L’escargot’ by Michael Nyman

PRAISE “BOB”. Remember all those comments from the first iteration of ‘Shouting etc etc’ that were previously gathering dust on HaloScan? They are now completely transferred. Every last one of them. By hand, I might remind you. Shi-chan’s double-excited, as I told her that when I was done with all that transfer silliness, that I would get back to resurrecting ‘Kitten with a Whip!‘ *exhales* O boy.
But for now, go enjoy the past!

Being a fan of Montreal’s finest sons and daughters, the Dears, I periodically read vocalist and keyboardist Natalia Yanchak’s blog, bizarrely titled ‘Natalia Yanchak’s Blog‘, wherein she details life with lead vocalist and hubby Murray, being a mum, trying to stay environmentally aware, recording fumfuh, etc. Recently, she posted an entry that resonated very strongly with me:

Facebook Killed My Blog…
…not that it’s completely dead or anything. But the amount of laptop time I permit myself per day is limited, and with the addition of Facebook to my online routine, there’s just less time for blogging. I mean, this blog should be enough of a window into my life: does it really need to be supplemented with a half-assed Facebook profile?
the rest of the article is here

Obviously, you can just as easily replace any instances of the word ‘Facebook’ with ‘Myspace’, as they’re entirely interchangeable. Both are essentially glorified profiles, for the purposes of networking and negligible announcements. For someone such as myself who already has a blog, keeping up with a social networking site is just one more silly thing I have to look after. Were it not for some tosser in Australia, I wouldn’t have a Myspace at all.

I do have a Facebook profile (and no, I’m not linking it here; if you’re clever though, you’ll know what name to look under) that I’ve mucked about with maybe five or six times, as frankly, I find the interface to be even more baffling than Myspace, which is a feat I wouldn’t have thought possible. What are these ‘gifts’ they keep referring to? There’s a wall that you can write on? Human G knows Human L, who knows Humans T, KK, and 42? What is this, Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon??

The one thing I hate most about Facebook is that unless you friend someone… fuck. Let me stop that right now. Unless you add someone as a friend, you can’t have any access to info about them. I realise that for people merely seeking to beef up the number of ‘friends’ they have, that’s no big deal, but personally, I want to know something about you before I accept you into my life. Does that not make any sense to anyone else??

I realise that I’m making myself sound like a cranky geriatric, but I dunno, I like writing, as opposed to merely commenting in bulk. Again, Myspace and Facebook are profiles, and as such, they don’t exactly engender writing at length, and listing the shitty bands that you like doesn’t count.
So basically, I’m drawing a line under it: I’m not accepting adds or wasting time with either Myspace or Facebook anymore. I’m not deleting mine or Sidore’s — you can thank that enterprising Australian for that — we’re just no longer maintaining them. Should someone send me a message, I’ll simply ask they Email me. Remember Emails, and how fun they were? But yeah, I’m curtailing keeping up with them cos frankly, if curious types really want to know about me or the Missus, they should be rooting through ‘Shouting etc etc’, rather than some facile social networking site

Sdtrk: ‘Walking in LA’ by Missing persons

That’s… almost body temperature. That can’t be good

Out of all the seasons we have foisted upon us, Summer has to be the worst, hands down. Autumn’s subtlety makes it superior; Spring’s never done me far wrong; Winter looks beautiful but it’s crap to be out in, but being chilly still beats basting in your own juices any day. The only redeeming thing about Summer is that it makes women reassess their choices in footwear, but that’s it, and that’s only a marginal reward, all told.

When I was younger and more willing to step out-of-doors, I remember developing a heat rash every Summer for three years running. Additional details are fuzzy, but I recall it was disgusting, as rashes tend to be. Then, of course, there’s the sweating, which, as far as I’m concerned, is a design flaw in Organik humans. Do you see cats sweating? No, no you don’t. Obviously they know something we don’t… And don’t forget tanning! Because making your flesh leathery and courting melanoma is always a worthwhile goal.

I’ll tell you: on the way to work Friday when I took the picture above, I saw a bloke geting his exercise in by running. Over the course of a mile, his body mass visibly shrank, as he was so overheated that he was rapidly losing weight. He went from probably about 185 lbs. to 40 just like that. Having stopped at an intersection, he was so weak and dehydrated that not only did he collapse, but the broiler heat of the tarmac reduced his frail form to a steaming paste within seconds, iPod and all.
Also, I saw a Pomeranian burst into blazing flames. It’s true.

In about a decade, when I am rightfully crowned First Grand Monarch of Earth, I resolve to put an end to this ‘summer’ ridiculousness; however, I’ve not decided how exactly. Either I’ll have enormous Bucky Fuller domes constructed over the major cities of the world, or I’ll have a fleet of gigantic air conditioning units flying in continuous formation around the globe, whichever’s more effective. Personally, I’m leaning toward the dome idea, cos if it worked for the society in ‘Logan’s Run‘, then there must be something to it, right?

Summertime. Clearly Nature’s biggest mistake

Sdtrk: ‘Skunk’ by The Jon Spencer Blues explosion

What exactly is it about Garfield™® that engenders so much contempt amongst upright-walking, thinking beings? I think the reason goes beyond its feeble and saccharine attempts at humour; in fact, for me, it’s precisely because it tries to be as inoffensive as possible is the reason I wish to see Jim Davis’ head on a pike outside the city gates. I can understand wanting to create comics that can be enjoyed by a wide range of people, but as a wise Mancunian once remarked, ‘If you pander to the public, art can never exist’.

Luckily, it seems of late that more and more people are realising that there actually are trace elements of humour to be found in Garfield™®, if you have a powerful enough viewing device to see it. Recently, I discovered three separate sites that have a reductionist approach to putting the ‘comic’ back into that ‘comic strip’. First, I give you Arbuckle:

In 1978, Jim Davis began a newspaper comic strip called “Garfield”. For almost thirty years, this strip has endured, primarily because its inoffensive, storyless humour is immediately accessible. It is, if not quite the Lowest Common Denominator of the comic world, at least as close to it as one can get without being obviously mediocre.

The comic changes dramatically when one removes the thought bubbles.

“Garfield” changes from being a comic about a sassy, corpulent feline, and becomes a compelling picture of a lonely, pathetic, delusional man who talks to his pets. Consider that Jon, according to Garfield canon, cannot hear his cat’s thoughts. This is the world as he sees it. This is his story.

They’re accepting submissions, so if you’re feelin’ mischievous and want to redo a strip yourself, contact the site owner to check to see someone else hasn’t done the one you want first.
Then you’ve got Garfield minus Garfield:

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life?
Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against lonliness and methamphetamine addiction in a quiet American suburb.

Yes, Jon is that much more unsettling when he’s the only person in the room. I love the ones where they redo the extended Sunday versions, and the first panel that usually has the title ‘Garfield’ in it, is completely blank.

Finally, there’s Lasagna Cat, which is not so much ‘reductionist’, as ‘singularly disturbing’. But that description really fits when you’re dealing with live-action reenactments of various Garfield™® strips, with rimshots and canned laughter and the actors holding still in lieu of a freeze-frame. Yeah. After viewing a couple of these, you can announce to the world that you have indeed seen everything it has to offer, and you can now return to your Maker with no regrets. My particular favourite?

Hallucinatory. But funny! And when’s the last time you could honestly say that about an unadulterated Garfield™® comic?

And with this post, I hereby announce the new category, G******d (which has actually been there for a bit of a while, but nevertheless). Come, share the Hate with me

ta very much to aneamo for the ‘Garfield minus Garfield’ link

Sdtrk: ‘We are coming back to dance with you’ by The focus group

Fuck me rigid. I have been asleep for literally twelve hours straight. Why? I’ve got another flu! FUCKING AWESOME.

I swear to christ, I am sick of being sick. As I’ve been lamenting to my friends anyone who will listen, I’ve been ill off and on with supercolds and the occasional flu consistently since late last September. If the climate isn’t bitterly cold, I’m either getting it from friends, or from my godforsaken coworkers. Remember how I mentioned how Tsukihime had it? I managed to either avoid it directly, or it was just building up inside me, as while I was at work last night, I was getting the occasional shiver. When I woke up Friday morning, I felt as if someone had taken me by the shoulders and shaken me for an hour. Needless to say, I called in.
It’s definitely a flu, as I’ve got the symptoms: the slow-motion walk, muscle fatigue, being simultaneously too cold and too hot, dizziness, everything tasting like iron filings. But y’know the thing about this timing that really gets on my wick? A cluster of us Michigan-area iDollators are supposed to have another Congress this week-end! Goddamnit.

If you want me, I’ll be in my coffin. This is ridiculous

hard to concentrate
the big swallow brandi
xzibit paparazzi mp3
little kid porn
bi sixuual strapon
gay dog sex
gay hardcore office sex
medical sex bondage
rubber pvc and plastic fetish
gothic vampire myspace layouts
parents allowing body piercing and child abuse
cum fuck me boots
sexy beach dresses
american bad ass
extreme tattoo
gay animation
ffm threesome free movies
Discovering The Girl Next Door-3
hand foot and mouth disease
hard buff hunks
heaven and hell tattoo
kat von d nude
latina big tits
human to animal transformation
12 year old models in thongs
mily anal beastiality
fist fucking whores
women fucking dog
olsen twin xxx
hairy teen sex
doggystyle sex
extreme ping pong
dolphin rape
cfnm bachelorette parties video
young bisexual porn
tiny titty
vin diesel nude
cfnm torrents
strapon + fuck
birthday party teen ideas
male oral sex
free pics of nude muscle studs
tranny getting fucked
deep south wrestling
illegal extreme preteen sex
butt hole closeups
college lesbian
twink boy amsterdam
rubber mouth gags
teen first anal
ebony masturbation
boys in white briefs
monster penis
vintage porn free
cameltoe pic
anal facial
keira knightley porn
full body tattoo
lesbian bikini babes
schoolboy spanking
grandma facial
pornstar nurses
military women bald shave
adult dvd sales
young male actors
teacher sex movies of nurse morgan ray
naked little boys
tongue piercings painful
historical olsen farm michigan
flash mx 2004 download
beastiality tgp
doctor fucking nauhty nurse
horny blonde teens
clit erection
double undermount corner sink
cheerleader strips
usenet petite model
facial abuse lanah
power fist
naughty nurses big boobs
skinny myspace layout generator
I Dig ’em in Pigtails-3 CD-1
goat whore
delta airline’s secretary
hidden camera blowjob
insulting gag letters and awards
jeanna fine porn star
atk hairy olivia
masturbation video
panty hose teacher
lacey duvalle pregnant
guy jizz
redhead sexy
brazilian trannies
learn how to deep throat
flexible vinyl indoor moulding
fist logo
Swank Rax Sex Trio-5 CD-2
free webcams adult chat line
Xxxl Sex-18 CD-1
10000 fist
sonny new found glory mp3
young nudist girls
brazilian porn stars
vintage fuck
young asians
teen girls dating men 10 to 20 years older
roll to roll hot foil label machines
female apartment wrestling
what will they do bridal shower theme
sex strangulation clips
paparazzi websites
brittany spears paparazzi shots
breast fuck
teen virgin movies
story xxx
pee hole insertion
bikini spanking
lesbian pussy
orientals ride dick

quit smoking hypnotherapy philadelphia
100% Prime Grade A Meat-2 CD-1
courteney cox naked
bodybuilders shave
Dana DeArmond Does The Internet
men with shaved legs
hooters spanking
virgin asians
huge tits teacher
jizz swallow
doggystyle sex
pantyhose cock
hot nurse sexy
celebrity chick ludacris
kick in the head
shave gels
dildo domination
Anal Massaker-4 CD-1
voyeur sex movies
application consolidation loan student
cock shaving
beastiality men
teen fuck party
hack hp cm8060 blogs
female orgasm sound clip
vin diesel naked
fkk family
i deep throat .com
big white butts
bbw cumming
free midget porn pictures
beijing blog
spanking bench
female bodybuilder wrestling
latina round ass fucked hard
guy on girl sexcam
my girl korean tv series
latino marketing plastic surgery
boss fuck
erotic sex outdoors
indian interior design
ebony throat job
amateur double blow job
glory hole women
bbw cameltoe
xxx 89 clips
mature saggy tits
clit erection
skinny myspace layout generator
rough sex movies
cfnm handjob movie galleries
used toy haulers
lolita ebony
free sexcams no membership
milf mothers
hard clit
mom strips for son
first time virgin sex
pregnant gyno
extreme penitrations
teens first orgasm
Big Boob Party-4 CD-2
crossdressers personals
human to animal transformation
girls using a dildo
stripping party
free download sex videos
sexy heels & stockings
bubble butt brazilian orgy
instruments of self bondage
Isoptin
Zetia
Blood Pressure
Copegus
Menopause Gum
Ventolin
Male Sexual Tonic
ActoPlus Met
Aristocort
Tentex Royal
Glucotrol XL
Phentrimine
Nolvadex
Anatrim Diet Pills
Inderal
Lotensin
Zyloprim
Male Enhancement Oil
Zantac
Ansaid
Mycelex-G
Vasotec
Mexitil
Aciphex
Levitra
Orgasm Enhancer Women
Requip
Vitamin A & D
Tenormin
Vytorin
Sorbitrate
Topamax
Mobic
Vermox
Crestor
Nexium
Atarax
Exelon
Prandin
Zyloprim
Elavil
Neurontin
Endep
Neurontin
Prevacid
Levitra
Zyban
Famvir
Snoroff
Fosamax

Sdtrk: ‘Ashes to ashes’ by David Bowie

Apart from the heat and humidity, there’s one more really good reason why I despise August: the fucking Woodward Dream Cruise. Ugh.
Since it’s that time of year again, I will now trot out the post I wrote back in 2005, concerning this seasonal atrocity. As SafeTinspector says, if you haven’t read it before, it’s new to you.

Jeeves, fetch me my rocket launcher

The Woodward Dream cruise, if you’re lucky enough to not be familiar with it, is basically an excuse for all the gearheads and nostalgia freaks in the state (as well as a couple from neighbouring states) to cruise up and down Woodward, which is the main drag of the Tri-county area, as well as the dividing line between the west side and the east side. It’s ostensibly a sad reenactment of the ‘good ol’ days’ of the Fifties and Sixties, when Detroit had both a functioning auto industry and places worth visiting, and young people would drive aimlessly up and down Woodward in their oversized automobiles. Now, once a year for the past.. however many years.. all those individuals who grew up during those years that have reconditioned ‘classic’ cars spend an entire week-end, driving aimlessly up and down Woodward, slowing traffic down, and being a general nuisance.

Superior!

Sdtrk: ‘Cruel when complete’ by Dome

Heh. Everyone wants to be me, yet no-one wants to be me.
It seems I have a MySpace page! Apparently, I’ve not only taken leave of my senses and made one (it’s on public record that I despise everything about MySpace), but now Sidore-chan and I live in Australia. Also, I’ve changed my birthday, and am now a Cancer, too!

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but frankly, this is just stupid. At least they didn’t try to imitate my style of writing; they just wholesale copied and pasted my details and picture into that page. Fucking brilliant.
In summation, if you see a MySpace profile named ‘Davecat’ and the URL doesn’t read ‘www.myspace.com/artificialist’, it’s not me, it’s an impostor.

So my quandary is: do I make an actual MySpace profile, or do I just kick Tom Anderson in the bollocks over and over until he deletes that account? Or both? I’ll mull it over at work this eve

EDIT (1.57 am): 50% rectified. It’s a travesty that this sort of thing is even occurring.
I honestly don’t understand the mentality of people who create MySpace profiles for individuals who are either long dead, or without the permission of those that are still living. If I’m not mistaken, one of the musicians I like — either William Bennett or Boyd Rice — had to make a profile because some tosser already made claiming to be him. And I’m entirely sure Friedrich Nietzsche would use MySpace. You could totally be one of his Top Ten Friends, dude! I can completely picture the man who declared that God is dead leaving a message on someone’s MySpace page: ‘yo sup fag lol u goin 2 see the vans warped tour?’ Yeah, best fucking buds with Nietzsche. As I’m fond of saying, I really don’t understand people.

Anyway, like I said on the profile itself, you can request an add if you so desire, but it might take some time, as I’m sure you’ve sussed that maintaining that page isn’t going to be a high priority for me. I can promise you, however, that there won’t be a surplus of flashing .gifs, but there might just be an audio ambush. You’ve been warned!
Now to see about that errant Doppelgänger of mine… *loads Mauser*

EDIT (11.34 pm, 05 Aug): Now the Missus has an official one, too. We thought it would be a good idea to circumvent any further chicanery

EDIT (1.27 am, 07 Aug): Ohhh, so sad, too bad for the impostor. Let that be a lesson.
Remember kids; when enquiring about Davecat, be sure to ask for the genuine article

Sdtrk: ‘Albion Festival report’ by The focus group

I have absolutely nothing polite to say about this. Nothing whatsoever.

Mobile texts harm written language?
Reuters | Wed Apr 25, 2007 9:28 AM ET

DUBLIN (Reuters) – The rising popularity of text messaging on mobile phones poses a threat to writing standards among Irish schoolchildren, an education commission says.

The frequency of errors in grammar and punctuation has become a serious concern, the State Examination Commission said in a report after reviewing last year’s exam performance by 15-year-olds.

“The emergence of the mobile phone and the rise of text messaging as a popular means of communication would appear to have impacted on standards of writing as evidenced in the responses of candidates,” the report said, according to Wednesday’s Irish Times.

“Text messaging, with its use of phonetic spelling and little or no punctuation, seems to pose a threat to traditional conventions in writing.”

The report laments that, in many cases, candidates seemed “unduly reliant on short sentences, simple tenses and a limited vocabulary.”

In 2003, Irish 15-year-olds were among the top 10 performers in an international league table of literacy standards compiled by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development.

Call me old-fashioned, or call me anal-retentive, but honestly, I think people in this day and age not having proper writing skills is embarrassing and shameful. Yes, I realise that language evolves through time for ‘better’ usage — arguably what comprises contemporary English is much less brain-destroying than say, Middle English — but these days I’m inclined to think that ‘better’ in the context of 21st Century society really means ‘lazier’.

My friend Wolfgang of vulne pro studios once argued that if the person who receives your message can parse what you’re essentially saying, despite any misspellings or grammar explosions, then that’s really the most important thing. Sure, I’ll grant him that, but I firmly believe that proper spelling should be encouraged. There are many people out there, myself included, who will almost entirely disregard an article, a blog entry, a post, or what have you if it’s typed ham-handedly. There may be an important message cleverly hidden within, but it’s as if the reader is being given a diamond ring cleverly hidden within a handful of shit. Frankly, if a person can’t be arsed to take the time to spell properly, why should anyone take the time to read it?
For a lot of people (and note, that’s ‘a lot’ — ‘alot’ isn’t a word), it’s a case of they’re typing so fast, that they don’t go over what they’ve written for errors before they submit it or hit the Send button; that’s how the Interbutt standards ‘zOMG’ and ‘teh’ began, for instance. There’s absolutely no sane reason why a person can’t give what they’ve said a quick check. And ‘that takes too long’ is hardly an excuse — if your spelling and grammar is up to snuff, it won’t take more than a couple of seconds, at any rate.

And as far as limited vocabulary, that rankles me just as much, if not more. Could you imagine if writers such as Wilde, or Burgess, or Machen, or Plath, didn’t have the benefit of an expansive vocabulary? Could you picture how incredibly dull their writing would be, or any writing, speech, or dialogue, for that matter? Language should be more than just a vehicle for basic communication; at its best, it should also paint pictures. Obviously, not everything that comes out of everyone’s mouth should sound like something by Edward Bulwer-Lytton (‘Yes, my good maiden; I would desire to place an order for a burger of ham, bedecked with intertwining spirals of tomato catsup and yellowed mustard, denuded of pickles, and accompanying that I wouldst like a singular order of French fries — crisp, golden-brown shards of deeply-fried potato — in the largest size a man can request. To quench my thirst which threatens even now to vanquish me, I will also require a chilled Coca’d-Cola, in a size that lay betwixt Diminutive and Titanic’) but a larger vocabulary is, at the very least, a sign that you’re trying to elevate yourself above the grunts and snorts that pass for common language.

In summation? Read more books, I suppose