wednesday, october 31, 2001
the link well has dried up, people. i don't know what to tell you. all i got is this old picture of rhett with coke-bottle glasses.

and i read all of this terrors of a subway rider even though it was kind of choppy and rambling. it talks about the likelihood (in layman's terms) of different underground death scenarios. conclusion: yes, i am now scared of anthrax/smallpox being released into the subway system.

also fun: this work nickname generator, via blogdex. i'm "hottie." (who makes these things?)

tuesday, october 30, 2001

i'm getting a little tired of these breathless warnings with no concrete info, aren't you?

randi has been keeping me very up to date on the whole franzen/oprah flap. personally, i think he's got a point about the sanctity of first editions, and as a reader, i don't really want to be seen with the oprah logo on my book (sorry, but oprah equals cheesy to me, no matter how great she is for reading and stuff). but if franzen felt so strongly he should've turned down the endorsement. instead he has it both ways and ends up selling a lot of books. anyway, this is a really interesting review that mentions pynchon and wallace and thus cements my feeling that i should read it. i'll start with chapter one.

monday, october 29, 2001

saw mulholland drive this weekend, quite by accident. i'd set out wanting to get a $20 haircut at the aveda cut-a-thon but they had a sign on the door that said no more walk-ins (even though the whole thing was supposed to be walk-in, but i digress). and so i ended up at the angelika and happened to randomly bump into vanessa and staci, who had already purchased their tickets for mulholland drive. and even though i am far from a fan of david lynch (hated lost highway, blue velvet, and eraserhead, but twin peaks was pretty cool), i decided i would get a ticket and sit with my friends. plus the critics have been creaming themselves. it's like a dream, they say. you get lost in it, they say. well, sure. because you can't figure out what the hell is going on. from my non-film-major perspective, what happens in this movie (and in lost highway, too) is that lynch likes to takes his actors, have them be really pretty and/or bizarre, and tell an interesting visual story, like make it all eerily beautiful, and then halfway through the movie have the actors switch up and take on each other's roles and names, and have everything happen sort of the same, but different. so that even if you have a clue what's going on, you really don't because you don't know who is who. so basically, if you liked lost highway, you'll like this. poor staci was upset because there was no resolution. i told her she's not supposed to know, but if you feel the same, salon did an in-depth analysis that might explain things. i feel a little better that somebody figured it out.

friday, october 26, 2001
oh yeah: i saw the Oh My God You Are So Hot, You Are A Vision Construction Boy yesterday. he was riding his bike down my street kind of lazily. i was ready to call out to him when an old guy sitting on the steps next to the bike messenger place called out to him first. they seemed to know each other. yo, they were "hiring bike messengers." inside joke? my boy smiled and gave some sort of shy demurral. i stood dumbly and watched him pedal away. damn! foiled again! maybe i can channel this frustration into my novel....

i'm maybe-sorta-kinda thinking about doing this thing leanne is advocating, this national novel writing month craziness. the idea is you bang out 50,000 words without regard for quality. which, you know, i do sit here many days of the month with very little work to do. so i really have no excuse. but i just don't know if i could allow myself to accept what would inevitably be detestable crap spilling out of me. or, more likely, dribbling out of me. hmmm.

so, that movie i saw last night, novocaine? well, despite low expectations and a friend's report that it was "the WORST movie i've seen in a long while, and i will spare you what i really thought of it," i thought this was a good, funny black comedy. if you can get delight in the sight of steve martin using a giant metal tooth in lieu of a baseball bat as protection against an intruder in his home, you'll like this movie. it's got all kinds of cute little details like that. laura dern is the hyperbubbly taekwondo-practicing hygienist he's bonking; helena bonham carter is the sexy drug addict who shows up in his office one day looking for "dam-something ... dam ... dam ... demerol?" to ease the pain of her aching tooth. elias koteas, a name i always get confused with a restaurant in queens, is the dentist's wacked-out brother. that guy sure looks a lot like deniro. anyway the characters are kind of cartoonishly drawn (witness dern's perpetually monochromatic wardrobe), which totally works here. it's kind of a campy noir, you see. so, though it was definitely a minority opinion, i enjoyed this movie; it caused me to guffaw many, many times. i am not just saying this because nate is my friend. i mean, i even requested the poster. totally true fact.

it's apparently a toxic nightmare in and around ground zero, you know.

any of my peeps interested in some indiepop on sunday night? they added another show at the mercury lounge after the bowery one sold out. tell me quick cause i'm getting ticket(s) after work.

thursday, october 25, 2001
my friend nate needs hip folks such as yourself to come to his screening of the upcoming artisan thriller novocaine. it stars steve martin as a deranged dentist. so if you're in new york, hop on down to the chelsea 9 (23rd between 7th/8th) tonight at 7:30; it's FREE!

bill werde cracks the new york times, writing about some crazy DJ technology that allows them to spin vinyl that plays digital tracks off their computer. rock on, bill!

golden boy alerted me to the existence of this awesome-looking exhibit called here is new york. it's a huge collection of photographs related to 9/11, and anyone can submit. (check GB's beautiful shot at photographica.) i think i am gonna try to go this weekend. also really want to see waking life.

um, this is corey haim's actual tooth.

wednesday, october 24, 2001
a relationship between me and rhett has a 73 percent chance of working out. poor erica, she has only a 59 percent chance of everlasting love. mwuuuuuhahahahahahaha.

eileen is updating again, in full existential crisis mode, which she of course makes dryly amusing.

I AM 13% PUNK.

i am very embarrassed. i wish i were more punk. (i think it's pretty punk to use the subjunctive these days, though, don't you agree? ha. *sigh*) the test is pretty funny though. [via scopophilia]

tuesday, october 23, 2001
new dismemberment plan is out today! goody goody!

ryan adams just wrote another song. this is a *great* story i gleaned from a no-good ingrate who is suspicious of the alt-country crooner due to "hype." memo to anyone who thinks adams, the strokes, or the white stripes are overhyped: the rest of the public, those who don't obsessively read music mags and e-zines and weblogs, which is to say about 99 percent of people out there, when you say these names to them, they go "ha ha! bryan adams?!", "the who?" and "whatever." they have no idea. madonna is overhyped, okay? britney spears is overhyped. ryan adams? not overhyped. end of rant. anyway, ryan adams is COOL. did you know he's working on a new album with a "big, stupid rock band" called the pinkhearts and has another solo one all ready to go? and it's all because he feels an obligation to work extra hard because he's lucky enough to make his living as an artist?

oh my god! so outrageous: this poor philly boy was preventing from flying because of the book he was reading. now if it were "how to hijack a plane," maybe you'd have just cause to detain somebody. but a novel, objectionable because of the picture on the cover?! [via madorangefools]

okay, more on the song i really wanted to sing at karaoke: photoblogger quarlo, who bemoans my lack of roots-rock knowledge, says there is no "she bop a lula," it's "BE bop a lula" and it's a song originally recorded by gene vincent. so now you can all sleep at night.

monday, october 22, 2001

rhett was pretty mellow friday night. check the setlist, featuring several new songs. also: i heard a rumor that the next 97s release is going to be a rhett solo album, which seems a bit like an oxymoron but no matter. it stands to reason, given that a lot of the songs he plays at fez and largo don't seem quite right for the whole band. also x2: where is that ranchero brothers record, for god's sake??

this morning for the first time in weeks, i woke up to that very distinct, acrid rubble smell. rather unsettling. also caught a whiff of it coming out of dive bar/karaoke joint winnie's in chinatown late saturday night, after a fun couple of hours belting out the likes of "love shack" and "bohemian rhapsody" with friends. one thing i don't understand: why is this place always populated with lame upper west side people in ill-fitting leather pants? also, does anybody know what song "she bop a lula" could possibly be referring to? it has to be "she bop," right? update: leanne tells me it's a beatles and/or paul mccartney song. that's too bad, really.

wow. really excellent, inspiring collages using covers of women's magazines (including this one) at photomontage. look at this one, then use the "go to" thingie up top to click through the rest. awesome, awesome stuff. you can find lots of other cool stuff on the front page, too. [via red]

i have decided, apropos of nothing, to tell you about a couple of musical purchases i made this weekend. mainly because i love them and want you to buy them. your mileage may vary, of course.

fugazi, the argument: this was perfect this beautiful morning in a cab on the way to work, a necessary luxury because the F train simply stopped running, leaving "a thousand" people on the platform according to the angry boy yelling at the token-booth attendant--who was still wordlessly selling metrocards to oblivious commuters and not making any annoucements. (what's the point of those people if their humanity means nothing? bring on the automation, i say.) anyway, love those guitars. more melodic, less screamy than classic fugazi ... in fact i'd say up there with thom yorke for excellence in the use of voice-as-instrument. i've only listened to this once but i'm pretty sure i'm going to love it.

the strokes, is this it: yeah, they sound a lot like the velvet underground. and a lot of people complain that they are "overhyped." so what? they also rock. very, very catchy stuff. when i first heard this a couple months ago at bill werde's house, he had it on shuffle, so every few songs i would go "is this the strokes again? this is great," etc. and after several listens this weekend, i love it even more. i think i will dance when i see them on oct. 31. and i think this is a gloriously fun, exciting record. urgent, much-needed, good rock music. get it. or if you're a downloader try "is this it," "last nite," or "hard to explain." or, you know, any of 'em.

friday, october 19, 2001
all you people who don't like the white stripes (i'm talking to YOU, kempa!):: they turned down a million bucks to be in a gap commercial. [via metascene]

in case you were worried that the War on Drugs has been neglected in light of Recent Events, don't. it's just been integrated with the War on Terrorism: how safe are your illegal drugs? [via madorangefools]

so, the show last night was good. they'd opened it up to the public, so i had no need of digging up an old college ID. i only caught a tiny bit of rainer maria. they seemed okay but kind of quintessentially emo. then i met and chatted with bryan, finally. he did not really dig the gbv that much as it turns out, but they always make me smile. bob pollard and his high kicks and microphone twirls and other drunken antics ... and nate farley with those rockstar guitar moves ... then i discovered that i sort of loved the sheepish, retarded-boy bass player. anyway, a decent show. you've gotta love a band that thinks they are the who ... they're all wasted!

thursday, october 18, 2001
i guess it's good, but damn (how's that for intelligent commentary? it's been a long day): u.s. seeks to stock smallpox vaccination for entire nation.

okay, i know i said i liked the flags, but this flag-print hardhat worn by cheney at ground zero is really goofy.

retardation, japanese style: no, not the robotic cat. i'm talking about the "emotion"-expressing car, which "lights up" when you approach and "cries" if you run out of gas. seriously, what is UP with those japanese?

did you know some people made a documentary about the making of wilco's "yankee hotel foxtrot"? i heard it from looka, a weblog with lots of good stuff that you should check out. there is another link i was going to steal, but instead i am going to insist again that you go there and find it for your damn self.

nice going, pataki!

so i heard that last night at his solo show in l.a., rhett made his big announcement about getting ball-and-chained to oh-erica. if he mentions it tomorrow night, are we allowed to boo? or can we at least invest our woo's with some very thick sarcasm?

there is a benefit show tonight at irving plaza featuring guided by voices, rainer maria, and circle and square. tickets are $5 for nyu students; $7 for other college kids. i'm going to try to go even though you're supposed to have a college ID to get in. i hope they will be kind and not care; is my money not green? i don't know where my old college ID is but i'm hoping i can scare one up (do you have one?). anyway, this is all probably moot because last night i was here till eleven and history could very well repeat itself tonight. booo, history.

wednesday, october 17, 2001
my lower right eyelid is twitching. we are all going to die. but life, and the pita, must go on. if only i could snare the O.M.G.Y.A.S. Hot Construction Boy. do you think a love note on the plywood would work?

wilco's dark victory. lots of stuff about tweedy as tortured genius, how the band has evolved, and why every smart record company in america is dying to put out their stunning new album. essential reading, folks. [via ryan, who is kicking ass with his new page, then leanne]

oh yeah, i'm sure if we just ask osama, he'll tell us what he's got planned.

tuesday, october 16, 2001

for the record, i am not one of these people who are "suspcious" or "nervous" about all the flags everywhere. i like them. they make me feel a little bit better about this whole thing.

i am really afraid of bob mould's "aggressive electronic" album, one of three he's ready to unleash on the unsuspecting public.

those of you who've been following the saga of my crumbling walls might be interested to know that holly demanded a meeting with our landlord, his engineer, and the construction guys, which ended up taking place last night. crazily enough, i got my way and was assured that in their shoring up of the outside walls, they would find a way to not fill in the alcove in my bedroom so far that my bed would no longer fit in that space (a scenario that had dire implications for the cuteness and livability of my room). i got to have words with the Oh My God You Are So Hot Construction Boy, whom careful readers might remember from last time. he also called this morning before coming over to direct the plywooding of my room; he has an amazingly soft voice. and corkscrew curls. and he's very earnest and likes my music. his name is amador. he makes all the hassle totally worth it.

new york spanks california: ha! come on, don't hate us just because we are unstoppable. we needed to win. i so wish i was there.

monday, october 15, 2001

had a pleasant, lazy weekend in the suburbs. ate food, picked apples, played with the dog, took naps, etc. also saw joy ride, which was actually pretty scary, though i admit the only reason i pressed for it was because there is an old 97s song in it ("weightless"), which sounds really good. i sang along as steve and dad rolled their eyes. also listened a lot to the new ryan adams (very classic-sounding, and very good) and the fruit bats (very autumnal-sounding, and also very good), and watched the yankees do the unexpected.

get your war on: funny, very black comics brought to my attention by leanne. black humor makes it all better?

yay, ryan cormier (pictured way below with firecrackers) has started a weblog! now i can highlight his name when i talk about him here, thus making any references to him automatically relevant. see how that works? anyway, i expect lots of links to really gross stories. the first entry has him hanging out with tenacious d, midgets in tow, pretending he's cool.

mike c is right, the testosterone is flowing on the streets of nyc. in fact, friday night, while fred and i were waiting patiently for the painfully slow guys at rosario's to take our order after a fun night at village underground, a fight broke out. some stoned-looking guy tried to cut in line and order ahead of a bunch of people, and some other stoned-looking guy at the back tapped him on the shoulder and told the counter guy in a loud voice, "this guy wants to wait on line," repeating himself several times. then there were some questions about why the touching (of course), and then the fists flew as i retreated to the corner. on his way out after being restrained by his friend, the line jumper could not resist a final straight shot to the head of the morally outraged boy, who was standing right next to me and whose head snapped back directly into mine. ouch!

friday, october 12, 2001
most people who get cutaneous anthrax get better even without treatment. you can tell if you have it cause you'll get a blister that turns into a black scab.

in nyc, the panic is on again, as tom brokaw's assistant has tested positive for skin anthrax, a less serious form than the inhaled kind. she got it via a letter with powder in it, and so did the nytimes and cbs (and probably more news organizations, who are probably the victims of all kinds of hoaxes). the news is coming fast and furious in my IM windows from people with access to CNN. i'm not freaking out, really. but it's kind of a struggle. i do not like this panic at all. sometimes i wish i didn't work in the media.

you know, the cmj festival is going on right now. does anyone want to see some musica with me? likesay, firewater at village underground tonight? i have other ideas too. bueller?

thursday, october 11, 2001
yet another weird and peculiarly american aspect to this whole Thing: do you realize that the u.s. government is getting advice from hollywood types about possible future terrorist plots? that spike jonze is one of them?

it started on the web, and now anti-american protestors are waving placards with a picture of bert (minus ernie) next to osama bin laden. how wackily american, eh? look!

anthrax: separating fear from fact.

wednesday, october 10, 2001
how good was last night's buffy? oh, it just slayed me! ahem. and then today, while i was checking out the semi-official message board, the bronze, i came across this guide to buffy and angel music, which is so cool and useful, because these past couple of weeks as i've been religiously watching the season one buffys, i've said to myself several times, "damn, that is some fine music playing in the background there." i've also determined that this is my dream job, to pick the music for cool shows. and i would be so good at that job. for instance: buffy enters the bronze, newly resurrected, right, and she's still a bit weirded out by being alive again, and up there on stage are the ass ponys (who by the way put on a pretty ass-kicking show at the merc on saturday), playing "and she drowned," and you hear the lyric "girl paused at the doorway lookin' in/her past was in there somewheeeere..." or, during a demons-on-the-rampage sequence, maybe you hear a little god forbid (who by the way are making strides, appearing with candiria on the metallennium tour and getting international exposure on the chest of mtv2 annoyo iann robinson). do you see how great that would be? i could get my favorite bands a bit more a) exposure and b) paid, spend all my time looking for new music, and get paid for it. this would rule. now who wants to hook me up?

for the nonbelievers: slayage: the online international journal for buffy studies.

tuesday, october 9, 2001
cool blog o' the week (or would be, if i had such a feature): slatch.com. be sure to check out the blog mix if you have not done so already, though you probably have because all the cool kids linked to it already. *sigh*

the verdict is in, and the red boots are out. in the end it came down to the Fat Calves problem, but you might be interested to know that it was two votes for and three against, with one naysayer deeming them "too pocahontas," another "sort of moon-boot-ish." my mother also weighed in: "Are you insane? Combat boots!! And red suede boots that look as if they belong on a polka dancing peasant among the rows of beetroot back in the old country! Not very NY--and perhaps not even waterproof." wait a minute, who works at the fashion magazine again? oh yeah, me! she might have a point though. and you know, i might just really need those "combat boots" when i'm fleeing into the mountains to escape the biological acts of war that could rain down on us at any moment. i don't think my pumas are gonna cut it. conclusion: i'm getting the patriotic docs.

monday, october 8, 2001
yes, we are officially at war. but what do we think about these red, white, and blue boots? my duty as an american to purchase, maybe? also considering these red suede jobbies, i'm sure you're thrilled to learn. which should it be? or should i wait to find the perfect (and versatile) regular black leather boots? cause i do need some of those, too. please advise.

damn! rhett is engaged. i do hope this is not the beginning of the end for my beloved 97s, but i fear it is.

thursday, october 4, 2001
i'm sorry, but this story about how no one is wearing stilettos anymore is complete horseshit. i guess the writer's gotta pay the bills somehow, but come on. let's not make a mockery of the real changes we've experienced since sept. 11. [link via jejune]

alert the media: metascene has updated!

randi, in her praise of the 9/11 edition of rolling stone, echoes my feelings this morning while reading new york magazine. one thing that got me all teary, for whatever reason, was this: 18 truths about the new new york. and then this story about the bioterrorism threat, complete with details on the nasty symptoms of smallpox, got me scared all over again. and a couple of days ago i read how our public health infrastructure is totally unprepared for an epidemic. hey vanessa, how are we getting out again?

oh my god, there is just so much to read. my next task, now that i know what's going on in afghanistan, is to read the new yorker's 9/11 archive. it's never enough, i tell you.

wednesday, october 3, 2001
les savy fav interview, in which lead singer tim harrington uses the phrase "it was the jam" to indicate that something was cool. how 'bout that?

last night: modest mouse, VIP-style thanks to christina. we rocked out on the balcony, watching the people go nuts on the floor below. the fruit bats opened, and they were very good: mellow, somewhat mouse-y, uh, country/folk/pop stuff. yeah. the shins also played; they sounded very much like the police. i told a cute boy about weblogs when he asked how i knew christina (note to self: stop doing that). bumped into isaac (the lead singer), but no talking because i'm not trying to get knocked up. (heh. email me for the gossip.) backstage, the champagne was flowing, and today? i hurt.

tuesday, october 2, 2001
i have strokes tickets, too! who cares if they're overhyped? from what i understand they're rockenroll. if you want to get in on the halloween show, you better hurry. they're going fast.

ladies and gentlemen, some things remain the same: rhett miller will be at fez october 19 and 24. these are late shows, and i don't want to hear any bitching about it.

also: mark november 14 on your calendar if you live in new york and like the dismemberment plan, and go read what travis has to say about america.

monday, october 1, 2001
last week jon stewart said his show was slowing returning to the funny (and let me say, i love the way they've handled things). the onion is bravely back at it, with mixed results, i'd say. i have even heard a couple WTC jokes (and winced). we're still trying to figure out when it will be appropriate to laugh again. i'm glad that everyone is showing some restraint. and yet i do love this chat transcript between osama bin laden and george bush.

it's true, i still occasionally wake up to that awful smell pervading my bedroom. and also, in case you were wondering, there were noises coming from the other side of my wall last night. understand, i live on the 2nd floor next to a construction site; there is nothing on the other side of my patched-up wall. what were these noises? i have no clue. i do hope the building isn't falling down.

this is for ryan, who gets a link dedicated to him because he burned me a classic uncle tupelo album AND a whole bunch of live old 97s tracks, in addition to yankee hotel foxtrot. ryan also told the following joke this weekend: "have, uh, you ever farted?" *farts loudly and extendedly* "uh, i better get a match." ha! so i know he would like the poop report, "your #1 source for your #2 business."

saw wilco again this weekend in philly. damn, their new stuff is GOOD. jeff tweedy just kills me. i love ryan for burning their new album for me. it is breathtakingly good. it makes me feel all right (and that is pretty high praise these days). also in that category: the song "new york, new york" by ryan adams (catch it on letterman thursday), off his new record, which i must purchase asap.