I’m pretty much finished with the ironic t-shirts. But this is different. If you love me, buy me this t-shirt:
Untitled
And on my way to the Coffee Bean (which isn’t actually open for another hour, but the manager’s letting me sit out front until they do open), the following songs on my iPod:
- The National, “Fake Empire“
- Coldplay, “Don’t Panic“
- The Pogues, “A Rainy Night In Soho“
- U2, “A Sort Of Homecoming“
I felt much better…until my headphones starting shorting out. Which means I have to go buy new ones — I can’t function without headphones.
Sigh.
I Am In Hell.
The AC here didn’t get fixed — it apparently overheated. On the form the repair guys for the apartment complex left, there’s a series of checkboxes for what work they actually do while they’re out.
One of the checkboxes is “Replaced flux capacitor”. That cracks me the fuck up.
But it doesn’t make it any cooler in here. It’s really just like hot as hell, like 90º at 5 am. (It’s also 5 fucking AM. Thanks, insomnia!)
And they’re turning the water off at 8:30 am for the whole complex. Apparently this is to fix the bizarre problem that this apartment (and apparently all of them) has: there’s no cold water.
I shit you not. The water that comes out of the tap is either hot or really hot. Not even lukewarm. The toilet water is hot. I swear to Christ. Sitting on the toilet is like treating your rectum to a day in a Turkish sauna. My ass is actually steam-cleaned and moisturized now. It’s a completely inappropriate sensation.
Anyway, they’re fixing this, for an indefinite period of time. The flyer they stuck to the door actually says “The water will be off from 8:30 am until whenever the Water District decides to turn it back on.” It doesn’t say “So fuck you, then,” but it might as well.
So I can’t sleep, because it’s like trying to nap underneath the engine of a running semi truck. (I have difficulty sleeping unless it’s actually cold and humid in a room. I’m like fucking Gollum.) And I can’t hang out here today anyway, because there won’t be any water to splash on myself to keep myself cool when the sun comes up and it hits 108º again. When that happens, taking three or four showers a day is the only solution. I got back last evening and I was covered in oily sweat within twenty minutes. It was disgusting. I felt like Mickey Rourke.
Plus maintenance guys are showing up to do bangy, crashy things with the AC.
At least I got my laundry done a few hours ago, so I won’t look and smell like Gary Busey’s ass as I haul my tired, sweaty, sunburnt ass out of the house in a few minutes, to walk down to the Coffee Bean and await its opening. Which won’t be for at least an hour, hour and a half. But once the sun rises it’s going to turn into fucking Dune both outside and inside, and at least there I’ll have reliable wifi.
Anybody wanna hire me at a lucrative web design job so I can go get my own apartment — maybe something with a reliable source of running water and AC to keep the Mojave at bay? I swear to God, it’s like I’m living in Tijuana, except without the cheap drugs.
I think I’m wrong. I think there is a God. And I think he thinks I’m Seth Rogan.
The Movie Review: ‘The Happening’
The Movie Review: ‘The Happening’
Rather than write a conventional review explaining why you should or shouldn’t see The Happening (trust me, you shouldn’t), I’m offering an alternative: A dozen and a half of the most mind-bendingly ridiculous elements of the film, which will enable you to marvel at its anti-genius without sacrificing (and I don’t use that term lightly) 90 minutes of your life. As this is intended to be an alternative to seeing the actual film it is, of course, overflowing with spoilers.
I’ve thought Shyamalan was overrated since Unbreakable, which was, well, unwatchable. Signs was just awful, and predicated on a completely stupid idea: aliens who are allergic to water come to a planet that’s 2/3rds covered with water, and also has water falling out of the sky at random intervals.
I did like Lady In The Water, though I’m the only one who did, apparently. I didn’t even bother with that silly one he did about the Amish.
The Happening looks and sounds totally retarded. I’m not even going to waste my time with it.
Bad Form, Old Boy
TRAIL BLAZERS Blog | The Dallas Morning News
At the Republican state convention, a booth hosted by Republicanmarket was selling a pin Saturday that says: If Obama is President will we still call it the White House.
There were other pins that weren’t necessarily conveying the positive, inclusive, united front that has been portrayed during the convention. One said, “Press 1 for English. Press 2 for Deportation” and another, “I will hold my nose when I vote for McCain”
On behalf of Texans who aren’t complete fucking inbred cracker assholes, I’d like to apologize.
[via Warren]
Trustafarianism
Art students on the future of money – Boing Boing
The article this links to is pretty good, but it was the title that hit me with the giggles. ‘Cause if you want to know about the future of money, art students are totally the people to ask.
What?
“Art students on the future of money: I hope Mom and Dad keep sending it to me!”
(Disclaimer: I used to be an art student, so I can feel totally free to talk shit, here.)
AC's gone out here
The AC’s gone out where I am. I can’t get it to come on.
If you’ve ever been to Vegas, you’ll understand my horror. The high today, according to my Google Weather widget thingy, is 108º. That’s 42º Celsius, by the way. It feels like an oven in here.
I’m going to take a cold shower and go to the coffee shop, and hope it’s fixed by the time I come back tonight.
Grrr.
Dreams, Seen By Man-Made Machines
I’ve been writing my first algorithmic music composition tool in Processing. It’s not terribly complex, though it has stretched my understanding of Java a bit, which is nice.
Basically, it loads an array of the steps of a scale — for example, a minor scale is [0,2,3,5,7,8,10,12] steps from the root note. Then you feed it a root note and a length of note to generate — eighth, quarter, etc. It then pipes this out as MIDI data.
When that data is sent to Reason, and a bass beat is added and some delay, it sounds like this:
Generative Sample (0:32, MP3)
This is two melodic passes — one of eighth notes and one of quarter notes — and one where it just went apeshit on a Dr. Rex sample that I fucked with violently. That’s the clicky bit.
Here’s the weird part: it doesn’t work exactly right. It has something, I’m sure, to do with the code I got from another Processing programmer to bypass Processing’s framerate resolution. I changed it and, I feel sure, fucked it up somewhere, because now the tool occasionally spits out notes on some semi-random rhythm.
But it sounds cool that way. I’m gonna teach it how to write basslines, next.
Whaddya think of this? I think it sounds lovely and strange — not random, precisely.
Good Food For Total Retards: Metrosexual Ground Beef Stroganoff
Beef stroganoff is one of those foods most often made by sad, single people or suburban housewives with too little free time for cooking. I myself am a sad, single person, but I’ve figured out a slight variation on the traditional Middle American stroganoff that is completely tasty, easy as hell to make, and only moderately bad for you. (Also cheap.)
I suppose this is Hungarian in style, but I couldn’t really say for sure — these are the same ingredients (minus the sour cream) that I use to make spaghetti sauce and chili with as well. It’s pan-ethnic, I guess. Fuck it. Who cares? Make it, eat it, make your stomach happy.
This isn’t a first date dish. (Who cooks for a first date, anyway? And what kind of idiot goes to a stranger’s house to eat on a first date, for that matter? You could be hanging out with fucking Gilles de Rais, for all you know.) Unless you tend to date girls (or guys) from the Old Country with too much facial hair and a tendency to start crying at any mention of the Former Soviet Bloc, most people want to go eat hip food on first dates. Besides, this is heavy stuff, and it’s hard to have first-date sex when you’ve eaten a big bowl of Metrosexual Ground Beef Stroganoff. (Why metrosexual? The red peppers and the garlic.)
This is for once you’ve got them in your clutches. Make this for dinner, and you’ve got them.
Metrosexual Ground Beef Stroganoff
Ingredients
- 2 lbs. lean ground beef (you can use stew meat as well, but you’ll need to boil the hell out of it before you use it.)
- 1 / 2 package wide egg noodles (or however much, you know how many noodles you like with your stroganoff)
- 1 small container sour cream (about 1 1/2 to 2 cups)
- 1 package white mushrooms
- 1 cup roasted red peppers (like you buy in a jar, but freshly roasted also works)
- 2 cloves garlic
- 1/2 cup white onion
- 2 tbsp. butter
- Salt
- Pepper
- Paprika
Directions
Fill a pot with enough water to cover the noodles. Put it on the oven and turn it to high. When it starts boiling fast, reduce to medium high and put your noodles in it. It will cook while the sauce is cooking. If you don’t know how to tell if noodles are cooked, or how to deal with them once they are cooked, I can’t help you.
Put your butter in a big nonstick saucepan on the stove (one size bigger than you think you should use, as we’re gonna toss the noodles in there at the end) and set your heat to medium high. As it’s melting, take your mushrooms, onion, garlic and red peppers and put them on a cutting board. Thin-slice the mushrooms and dice the rest. By the time you’re done, the butter should be melted and slightly bubbling.
Throw the mushrooms, onion, garlic and red peppers into the butter. Swirl them around with a wooden spoon, getting them all covered with melted butter. Sauté them like this until the mushroom are soft and the onions are mostly transparent. You’ll notice that the juice from the red peppers turns everything kinda orange — this is fine and in fact desirable.
When the vegetable (and fungus) mix is sautéed, toss your meat in. Shake some salt and pepper (to taste) over it. Stir it and mash it up with your wooden spoon until it’s all crumbled up and mixed up with the rest.
Cover your saucepan and let this cook for about ten minutes, stirring it every so often. COVER YOUR PAN. When you cover it, the mixture doesn’t dry out and in fact gets all juicy, which is what we want.
Noodles are done. Drain ’em and leave ’em in the drainer for right now.
If your meat is all browned, your sauce is done. Reduce the heat to full-stop medium and dump your sour cream in there. Mix it until there are no clumps of sour cream left and no un-sour-creamed bits of meat and vegetables. (And fungus.)
Add a little more salt and pepper, again to taste, and a couple of dashes of paprika. Take your noodles and throw them into the saucepan. Mix until the noodles and the sauce are all over each other.
Remove from heat and serve. Eat.
Prep Time: 15-20 minutes
Serves: 2-3, depending on who’s got body issues at the table.
Possible wines: What kind of pretentious twat drinks wine with friggin’ beef stroganoff? Try iced tea, there, Ernest and Julio Gallo.
Possible desserts: None, you fat bastard. Did you read my goddamn directions? Two cups of sour cream. You don’t need dessert after this.
But if you insist, maybe a cookie.
RIP Stan Winston
Effects guru Stan Winston dies of cancer at 62 – Yahoo! News
Oh, man. Stan Winston was one of my few real heroes when I was a kid — his work on Terminator and Aliens and T2 and Jurassic Park was a lot of the reason I got into movie FX and, later, computer graphics in the first place. He was a goddamn great filmmaker (his directorial debut notwithstanding) and a genuine genius, and he advanced the art of moviemaking more than most of the directors or producers he ever collaborated with.
I wish I’d gotten to meet him before he died, just once, to shake his hand and thank him — not only for the inspiration, but for all those cool monsters and robots and dinosaurs.