megasloth!

Here, Mostly!

2008-12-09T08:20:00.000-08:00

Cat Update!

2008-01-03T13:38:00.001-08:00

Rest in peace, little buddy.

So Neocon!

2007-09-11T13:28:00.000-07:00

Wow. This seems so much like the White House dog and pony show on Iraq, 911, their economy and everything else besides. Nice. Still, would make a slamming instrumental....

Jump! Jump!

2007-08-10T11:16:00.000-07:00

Headline from this morning's online NYT: Stocks Are Volatile After Global Sell-Off. Yep, there's something distinctly rotten, empty and inevitable at the heart of this mess. I think it's called capitalism. Or something like that....

Cat Update!

2007-08-09T11:44:00.001-07:00

Business as usual.

Nice!

2007-08-09T11:38:00.000-07:00

Different Battles!

2007-04-21T11:22:00.000-07:00

If perhaps not without problems as an album, Battles' rhythmical interplay on Mirrored, their latest and first full-length (or so it seems), does my head right. Much like a fugue. Nice work, boys.

More Macho!

2007-03-19T12:17:00.000-07:00

300 continues to do good business. Meanwhile, real-world public opinion (or rather public opinion concerning the real world) presents another story. The apparent disconnect reminds me of the famous admonitory epilogue to Walter Benjamin's famous, much-read essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction:

“Fiat ars – pereat mundus”, says Fascism, and, as Marinetti admits, expects war to supply the artistic gratification of a sense perception that has been changed by technology. This is evidently the consummation of “l’art pour l’art.” Mankind, which in Homer’s time was an object of contemplation for the Olympian gods, now is one for itself. Its self-alienation has reached such a degree that it can experience its own destruction as an aesthetic pleasure of the first order. This is the situation of politics which Fascism is rendering aesthetic. Communism responds by politicizing art.

Sage words from one smart dude. But I'm also reminded here of one of Benjamin's equally famous, much-read Theses on the Philosophy of History:

To historians who wish to relive an era, Fustel de Coulanges recommends that they blot out everything they know about the later course of history. There is no better way of characterising the method with which historical materialism has broken. It is a process of empathy whose origin is the indolence of the heart, acedia, which despairs of grasping and holding the genuine historical image as it flares up briefly. Among medieval theologians it was regarded as the root cause of sadness. Flaubert, who was familiar with it, wrote: ‘Peu de gens devineront combien il a fallu être triste pour ressusciter Carthage.’ The nature of this sadness stands out more clearly if one asks with whom the adherents of historicism actually empathize. The answer is inevitable: with the victor. And all rulers are the heirs of those who conquered before them. Hence, empathy with the victor invariably benefits the rulers. Historical materialists know what that means. Whoever has emerged victorious participates to this day in the triumphal procession in which the present rulers step over those who are lying prostrate. According to traditional practice, the spoils are carried along in the procession. They are called cultural treasures, and a historical materialist views them with cautious detachment. For without exception the cultural treasures he surveys have an origin which he cannot contemplate without horror. They owe their existence not only to the efforts of the great minds and talents who have created them, but also to the anonymous toil of their contemporaries. There is no document of civilization which is not at the same time a document of barbarism. And just as such a document is not free of barbarism, barbarism taints also the manner in which it was transmitted from one owner to another. A historical materialist therefore dissociates himself from it as far as possible. He regards it as his task to brush history against the grain.

The critical ambivalence I see Benjamin articulating -- and I describe it this way because of the parallax suggested by the civilization/barbarism paring, which I think challenges simple politicized reduction -- is somewhat presented (as if summarized) with respect to 300 in this post by Digby on Hullabaloo (although I reject the dumb homophobia apparent in his use of tired, cheap put-downs such as "closet cases" and the recalling of Spartan pederasty to somehow shame his Republican opponents). What seems especially illuminating here, if you'll forgive the pun, is the way the same over-loaded film plays across the political spectrum, right into the seemingly defensive/compulsive use of (or demand for) entertainment as a means of avoiding and even denying politics. Also concerning 300 and covering something of the same debate, there was a nice back-and-forth on Saelan's blog as well. Coming from a different place, I think this smart post by him regarding Arcade Fire and politics also fits well with the general problematic too, touching on the same base dynamic but avoiding (if only directly) the heated issue of Iraq. Nevertheless, I still haven't seen 300, although I think I might: best to see the thing itself. I'm sure it's downloadable by now.... I did, however, re-watch Starship Troopers, as well as a short "making of" documentary that confirmed my "anti-fascist" feeling about the film. Anyway, Benjamin is great!

So Macho!

2007-03-12T15:37:00.000-07:00

My friend Saelan offers some understandable unease regarding Zack Snyder and Frank Miller's grandiose, ultra-violent and technically spectacular 300, sniffing in it the whiff of fascism. Old Miller has long been about macho authority and simple moral codes, most often expressed by means of graphic violence. Thanks to Tony, my older brother, I've read and enjoyed many of Miller's comics over the years, and yet, for what it's worth, we both remain nonviolent and, indeed, resolutely anti-fascist. And, I imagine, we're not exceptional in this, more the norm. Nevertheless, what seems really problematic to me about 300 isn't so much its questionable narrative propinquity to Iraq, Iran and the so-called "clash of civilizations" (sic), it's the cynical opportunism of making profit off of the obviously unstable and bellicose character of the times. It's this icily detached "aiding and abetting" aspect that freaks me out more than the thing itself -- like IBM supplying computers to the Nazis. Chilly. The political attitudes of all involved in 300 are probably not fascist and maybe not even Republican (and I agree with this review on Slate regarding the (perhaps shocking) likely lack of concern or notice regarding actual politics and real-world events in this respect), but there's something disappointingly lame -- and yes probably even irresponsible -- about soliciting (and libidinally rewarding) an audience right now by means of this particular, racially-charged tension. Since media products are produced with projected audience interest in mind, which typically means extensive market testing and whatnot, especially for bigger budget projects, an incipient fascist resonance here might mean big box office returns for a film like this -- especially returns from young men and boys. I imagine 300 is doing well with these demographics. Sigh.... It kind of reminds me of the old F-Scale measurement schema. Alas.... Now, I enjoy good dumbbell action films now and again, so, to be honest, I'm not opposed to 300 in this respect (although I haven't seen 300 and, based on its critical reception, I might not...icky). Yet the very particular timing of the project does sadly (but inevitably) highlight the bloodless unmorality (yes -- decidedly un- and not anti- or amorality) of the culture industry. In this situation, "profit is profit" seems not only like a qualitatively fascist slogan par excellence, but also arguably the true ugly lesson of 300, not whatever manifest "message" the film supposedly promotes.... In contrast, Paul Verhoeven's amazing Starship Troopers, which recalls the first Gulf War misadventure, remains a personal favorite, aggressively anti-fascist film (or so I argue), which is also graphically super-violent. And for good compliment, there's always Stalingrad, which is not only very graphically violent, it's also actually about Nazi soldiers! Now that's a good time feeling bad!

O Honesty!

2007-01-11T18:05:00.000-08:00

Sam "Biggie Samuels" Macklin, a friend, fine musician and excellent blogger -- even better since he started his "full time in front of the computer with headset" job, is really on a confessional trip. This seems to be under the conceptual umbrella of so-called "guilty pleasures". Perhaps because I've worked at Zulu Records for so many years, I don't really believe in guilty pleasures anymore, like Santa or God. Rather, there are pleasures. Enough said, I think. Guilt in this case seems somehow so very, I dunno, conformist, or perhaps an echo of conformity. Really, why bother? Well, maybe for the fun of it. That said, I live with so much day-to-day guilt that I could be a Jewish Catholic. Is there even such a poor, troubled thing? Anyway, if I am to offer anything to Sam's project, it's that, instead of feeling guilty, I'm probably too quick to appreciate stuff maybe better sifted and sorted away. By "appreciate" here I don't mean "like", however; I mean more in the sense of "empathetically understand", if that makes any sense. To be honest -- and I look to you here Sam -- this can be openly problematic, if not guilt inducing. Yes, maybe I have a problem.... Yet feeling no guilt with respect to my musical enjoyments doesn't therefore mean I'm not discriminating. Oh no, there's lots of stuff I truly, deeply, aggressively hate. P. S. I don't really own any Dave Weckl. What, do you think I'm fucking crazy?

Being and Time!

2006-12-31T11:39:00.000-08:00

Ahem, forgive me.... Is there a drummer's materialist ontology? The answer -- well, more the amateurish meandering around possible answers -- could get seriously flakey. Indeed. So here's some countervailing humble context: My pop band, The Book of Lists, played a show last night with Ladyhawk, local favourites and all-round nice dudes. Ladyhawk make sweet, soulful rock music, like a kind of indie-rock Crazy Horse. Anyway, as a man of the trade myself, I like to watch drummers work. A very musical player, Ryan, Ladyhawk's drummer, is indeed great to watch -- tall, lanky, loose-limbed, expressive and stylish. Standing by the side of the stage watching him play, it was easy (or easier) to see something that I have an elusive sense of while playing drums myself. By necessity, drummers get inside the temporal flow of music, which they simultaneously push forward while embellishing, sometimes with, sometimes against the metrical architecture of the music. I know from experience that this requires -- and indeed induces -- a conjoined particular state of mind and a mode of bodily comportment. A fleeting spaciotemporal sensibility, there is a heightened awareness of the shape and drive of the music as it unfolds around you. It is, in effect, a manner of Being. But Being in terms of a kind of interactive becoming-with-Being, not a more formalistic engagement with a pre-existing Being -- some kind of remote, even estranged Being-out-there. It's more a merging or commingling, like what Maurice Merleau-Ponty calls the chiasmus: the liminal threshold of corporal existence, which folds "insideness" and "outsidness" into a kind of constantly reversible, "fleshy" parallax. I wonder if this is what true praxis is, experientially-speaking? Ha! See! Flakey.... Remember: I AM a drummer. The truth is that the experience of drumming only highlights an aspect of everyday activity. Surely the same features are part of normal walking around, for example? Maybe it's the addition of the aesthetic dimension that makes it seem more obvious with respect to drumming. And besides, as it is by now obvious to those who know me, I'm not much of a dancer..... In any case, I love Ladyhawk!

It Makes Sense!

2006-12-30T15:00:00.000-08:00

Robin and I bought each other (that is to say collectively bought) a digital camera this holiday (hence the picture of the dude perviously). We have so few pictures of us, either together or singularly, that it seems somewhat pathological in comparison to our more picture-friendly peers, not to mention our media-happy moment in history generally. Anyway, I'm caught up in the thrill of it, taking pictures like mad. Novelties are as they are.... But I did also realize, in a suddenly very vivid way, the easy aestheticizing power of the image compared to sound recording. An image can be looked at, evaluated and appreciated in a flash, both while making the image and examining it afterwards. It seems as if looking (really generically, but not "gazing", of course, which is a tougher problem) is itself a fundamentally aestheticizing gesture, perhaps unavoidably so. Sound, on the other hand, being time-based, doesn't give itself as quickly to such reception. Basically, it takes time to listen. If not of music, sound recordings present themselves as rather abstract at first, their form and content necessarily developing over time. I'm sure all this is obvious to everyone else, but I'm really struck by it. Listening and looking really seem to involve different modes of experience, not only epistemologically but also ontologically, which nonetheless somehow come together in consciousness -- split, multiple, overlapping or otherwise. Nice.

Cat Update!

2006-12-27T19:44:00.000-08:00

The dude himself.

Cat Update!

2006-12-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

Sleeping peacefully. KTL on the stereo. Christmas time IS magical, even (especially?) for us non-believers.

Haunting!

2006-12-21T18:43:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about my friend Sam's thoughtfully choice 2006 top picks list and our earlier brief back-and-forth about Scott Walker's The Drift. At first I found The Drift a little too rich, almost embarrassing. And now, I still think it's pretty ripe. But it's a tasty, super smart ripe--an impressively dark cheese! Indeed, it is a Masterwork. If I remember correctly, Sam helped change my appreciation by arguing that The Drift is basically a high modernist work, one perhaps not retrograde so much as anachronistic. Seems right to me. This lead me to think two things: First, that The Drift is, in a way, a great compliment/contrast to Joanna Newsom's Ys. Somehow they're like two sides of the same CD! In this respect, by the way, it's not too late to make someone's Christmas dreams come true! And second, that maybe modernism is STILL what is in fact haunting us, if not equally or in the same way everywhere....

Cat Update!

2006-10-18T12:36:00.000-07:00

Asleep on the bed.

ARGH!

2006-10-18T12:25:00.000-07:00

My upstairs neighbor is playing guitar and singing while stomping on the floor with his feet. It is driving me fucking crazy. Make it stop! I make this plea to the void of grand wizard Internet since asking him, the neighbor himself in question, to 'ease up' wasn't very effective.... Oops? Wow. As I was typing this entry, he suddenly stopped, said "sorry", and has now resumed playing, this time without stomping! Gosh. Thanks Internet, you made my day!

Crys Cole is Right!

2006-10-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

Montreal is a sweet town of a town. Also, to be fair, Toronto wasn't that bad either, despite popular west coast opinion. And yes, it's true, I am not (yet?) a world traveler.

Recommended!

2006-09-11T12:25:00.000-07:00

Gravol and booze make for a good party mix.

Cat Update!

2006-09-06T10:18:00.000-07:00

The dude is elsewhere. Maybe round the side of the house. Looks good but thin. Nice morning for a cat: sunny, not too hot. Ahhhh -- peace is great!

Great Work Everybody!

2006-08-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

Lebanon is trashed and Israel seems even less secure now. The whole region is angry and confused like a jostled beehive. I just don’t get how bombing “terrorists” works—unless some other objective is the proper goal. Which is what, I wonder? Paranoid and concerned, I look to folks like Fisk and Hersh for possible insight. And somewhere in the ether, Eisenhower and Mills are sadly shaking their heads. Alas.

Amateur Music Journalism Rules!

2006-08-15T02:19:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to find the effort to write in a thoughtful and interesting way about music. It’s not that I don’t care. I do—I love music. Rather, I’m a sloth. Also, it’s easier (and more appealing to me) to write about my cat, who’s lying behind my laptop as I type this. O the adorable little devil. However, if I was motivated, I think a good examination could be made of the somewhat retrograde (although appealing to me) development of dubstep in England and that county’s suspect and declining political milieu—surely a big disappointment. A harking and a hankering for a bygone time, perhaps? It’s an open thought I’ll leave to the better equipped and capable, such as some of the blogs I’ve listed in my links list.

It All Makes Sense Now!

2006-08-13T22:35:00.000-07:00

Insane!

2006-07-21T12:13:00.000-07:00

He's right, he is insane. Meanwhile. Ah, to be merely insane....

Dread!

2006-07-20T12:55:00.000-07:00

Dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread dread....

Two Things!

2006-07-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

First, the sun is out and the cat is too, laying around in the shade and sun. What a sweet yet still unwell little dude. And second, Osbourne "King Tubby" Ruddock, also a sweet dude, exact size unknown and deceased. Behold:

Grudge Match to Nowhere!

2006-07-15T12:38:00.000-07:00

I have to say this again: that the whole entire fucking goddamn world can be put into such terrible unease and danger basically because of lame-ass age-old religious squabbles makes me want to puke all over myself and the floor. I know it's all so very complicated and shit, but still.... Argh!

End of Times Update!

2006-07-14T13:20:00.000-07:00

Good grief! The mess just grows and grows. Can it end? Seems like some kind of preconscious script. But mostly just a complexly big mess. Alas...forever.

Creepy!

2006-07-14T11:47:00.000-07:00

While my girlfriend, Robin, was working late last night and I was hanging listlessly (or slothfully) around her office, located in the beautiful and historical Dominion Trust Building, a crew was filming sequences for an episode of Blade the TV show several floors beneath us. It seems they filmed some kind of high impact martial arts-type fight sequence—using weapons! I write “seems” because I could only hear the clang and clatter of action, not see it. But when we finally left in the wee hours of the morning, I happened to look over the edge of the magnificent spiral staircase that runs majestically (and yes historically) up the building’s centre. There, ten floors below, was a young woman playing dead, picturesquely lying face up in a large, gruesome pool of fake blood, seemingly staring back at me. It was fucking creepy, dude. Cat Update: he’s currently resting under my newly acquired table lamp, henceforth known as The Lamp of Peace. Amen to that.

Cat Update!

2006-07-13T12:36:00.000-07:00

Still sick, I'm afraid. O the poor, impossibly cute, furry little dude.... Probably on his slow, final decline, in fact. Hence my lack of posts. Well, partially.... It is hard to be both a diligent blogger and a responsible sloth, let me tell you. Such is the basic conflict of my life. Speaking of conflict, today I am looking with alarm at the fast escalating conflict in the Middle East. What a fucking mess. I have little faith that a reasonable solution is possible. Perhaps a big, bloody fight to the end is the only outcome. I have sympathy with respect to everyone's' shared humanity, that lives are being and will be lost and ruined, but beyond that I must confess a sad bewilderment. Alas...a fucking mess. I suppose it is darkly ironic that I hope that some other "proper" corrupt and cynical motivating factor is at work here more than the same-old clashing of antiquated religious beliefs. Land, resources, power, makes some sense. This God or that God, makes none. To me at least. Pity the poor innocents....

Cat Update!

2006-05-31T15:39:00.000-07:00

Little sucker has been sick. Poor guy. And there's this new cat next door that's a jerk. Well, more a young buck of a cat wanting to have his yard and ours for his territory. With our little senior citizen under the weather, it's not as much fun in the backyard as it was last summer. Here's hoping for the best....

Cat Update!

2006-05-02T02:07:00.000-07:00

He's back on the dry stuff. I'm simply following orders at this point.

Ha Ha!

2006-04-20T10:24:00.000-07:00

I sometimes talk in my sleep. The other night I guess I said, “it’s been a long time coming” and “violence is not the answer.” I have no idea what I was dreaming about; I hardly ever remember my dreams. Anyway, last night Robin, my girlfriend, was making fun of me about my occasional nighttime “pontificating,” calling me Ghandi. This droll jibe made me think that it would be funny if, in reality, I was a "seer” or “guru” with an active school of followers, but that I was only able to preach to them while asleep. In other words, I was unconscious, unable to know my own wisdom, as Robin pointed out. Imagine, I said to her, just a humdrum boring guy while awake, yet an insightful spiritual leader while asleep! Oh, hillarious.... This was not a megalomaniacal -- although self-defeating and paradoxical -- fantasy wish. Rather, in so far as I’m concerned, I’m all the former, none of the latter, as my friends and peers will likely attest. My only enlightenment, such as it is, is expressed in my capacity to be easily amused and satisfied. Some might call me boring. My reply, “Nay, I am sloth incarnate!”

Whatever!

2006-04-17T14:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I wake up I feel like my head is full of slosh. This happened this morning. I rolled over to the side of my bed and hung my forehead over the edge, which I find oddly comfortable, arms folded under my chest. I had a sudden fantasy that my head was slowly dripping down like some semi-viscous fluid, perhaps a super-thick paint. Then I imagined that my head had someone else living in it and that this other consciousness was what was dripping down, obeying a gravity of its own. Now, finally out of bed, I feel like I have a hangover. I guess I'm depressed. Yes, I'm depressed. It's funny that I had to discern this from my behavior, that I didn't recognize or know it at first -- my body 'knew' before I did. This curious retrospection reminds me of what Slavoj Zizek says in his book The Sublime Object of Ideology about Blaise Pascal and faith in God. Very basically, Zizek says Pascal argues that behavior can come before and actually lead belief. In other words, self-reflexive thinking is retrospective: we figure out how we feel based on what we're actually doing. So, today I am Blaise Pascal. Or not. In other news, it's sunny behind the big dark rain clouds, so Satchel is pretty happy. Lucky little shit....

Busy...Doing Nothing!

2006-04-14T11:28:00.000-07:00

Actually, I've been busy being busy. For real! And yet, this is not good for the old sloth. Sigh, one does need to eat. Slothiness doesn't come cheap in this cold, cruel, capitalist world of ours, you know. I digress.... Or do I? I came across this Yahoo news story today about new PM Stephen Harper's business managerial/Bush-lite-like party strictness. Alas, this will be how he keeps the real kooks in his party silent -- until they win a second term! It's true: the Conservatives are "cleaning house" and working quickly and resolutely, which currys well in the nation's popular imagination. They're mostly making supposedly un-controversial changes, mainstream public opinion-wise, but also some very worrisome changes. For example, see the Canadian Cynic's blogging on the issue of secrecy, or this Globe and Mail article on the same topic, and then there's this and this and this about the Conservatives' sad attack on environmental policies. And it's still early in Harper's term. I traditionally side with the old NDP, although I doubt they'll ever become the federal governing party, but I sure hope the Liberals use their "time off" wisely, maybe finding some good leadership. It is a compromise, but it would be nice to have (at the very least) a Liberal government, preferably as a minority, with a strong NDP opposition. And yet, maybe nothing would therefore get done.... Anyway, one thing is certain: man it's hard to be slothy.

Mom Update!

2006-03-29T11:40:00.000-08:00

Last night after work my brother Josh and I took a McDonald's Fillet-O-Fish Dinner Meal and a Provence newspaper to our mom, who is sick in bed with a bad cold. I must report that she asked for both things: we were obediently following a motherly directive. Still, rather impressively "working class" fair, eh? Yep, that's our mom, always "with the people." And then she read from the Communist Manifesto and told us about all the latest union gossip. Just kidding. She's feeling better today, she said. Also today, Prime Minister Harper -- whom my friend Liz calls "the haircut," and who I think is (obviously) trying hard to be "under the radar" with his first term to try and help win a second, maybe with a majority (please, God, no, NO!) -- has made his first topical international gesture: ending "all relations with the new Palestinian government," says the CBC. What does the Slothmaster (that be me) make of this gesture? Well, let's just say the wedge is getting thicker. Wow, look at me being topical, Canadian-style (read as: wry if also ultimately ineffectual)!

Cat Update!

2006-03-28T09:37:00.000-08:00

Oh. My. God. Could you PLEASE stop pacing around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around? No? Argh! The good news: I've added some new links to my links list, including one to a snarky political blog from a fellow Canadian.

New Music!

2006-03-27T14:03:00.000-08:00

Something has changed. On the one hand, there's too much music available. And on the other hand, I'm lazy (like a sloth!). Or maybe I'm just overwhelmed. The truth is probably found juggling back and forth between both hands, spending most of its time in the air. Here's the thing: if it wasn't for my brother, Josh, my work-mates and band mates, and a few friends, I might be as out-of-it, musically-speaking, as the typical Pitchfork reader (not to disrespect Pitchfork or its readers). Eventually, and to be totally honest, this will likely be my fate - or worse! Exhibit A: I received an iPod from my girlfriend, Robin, when I (finally...or not?) finished school. I've packed it full of all my jazz, reggae, soul, garage rock, and Jimi Hendrix CDs, plus a few local and punk rock odds and ends, but mostly old stuff. I like to let it play randomly from this considerable library. I'm totally happy with whichever track the little white robot wants to play. And yet, I wonder. Is this something I should worry about? Am I failing as a music nerd? Oh well, whatever....

He Can Read, Apparently!

2006-03-23T12:39:00.000-08:00

Update! Satchel is now in my lap, seemingly happy. What is this world coming to? Thumb still sore.

Alas...!

2006-03-23T12:09:00.000-08:00

The day so far: Satchel is back at it, crouching in the hallway, facing away from me, probably angry; my thumb, injured practicing with the Leviathans, is now infected, making me even more useless than usual; I forgot to put our trash out last night, so I had to put it out this morning - too late for pick-up; and I just got something in my eye. Yes, I have a serious case of Charlie Brown-itis. Good Grief!

Wow!

2006-03-21T09:18:00.000-08:00

Satchel is in my lap and he's even purring. Could this signal the end of the world today? Meanwhile, my thumb hurts (and I'm drinking coffee). But, alas, I have to go to work. O life, make it hard on the sloth, why don't you....

Cat Update!

2006-03-20T11:47:00.000-08:00

Ah, the little hairy crouched-one is outside in the sunshine (yes, the sunshine). He seems to be in a good mood. Also, he was even happy to see me this morning. Perhaps old age agrees with the guy. Or maybe he was hungry. Wait a minute...he was just hungry. Meanwhile: I'm drinking coffee. Important stuff.

Disgusting!

2006-03-15T19:09:00.000-08:00

I just got back from practicing with Leviathans, the so-called "free metal" group I play in with my brother, Josh, and his girlfriend, Larissa (or maybe we don't - who can tell?). It was a lot of fun and probably sounded awful! We're getting ready to open for The Christa Min and Oneida this Friday. Anyhow, I gave myself a huge, sick blister on my thumb. It's horrible! Quite a lot of work for a sloth!

Cat Update!

2006-03-14T09:22:00.000-08:00

Satchel has a way of sitting—more crouching—that indicates his dissatisfaction with something or another. He does this a lot. For example, this morning he’s crouching in the hallway facing away from me. Oops, now he’s walked off to really sulk, I imagine. And yet, he’s so cute. Come on, buddy, at least your cute! Meanwhile, I'm drinking coffee. Sigh.

Awesome!

2006-03-13T13:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday at work I skimmed through the Electronic and Jazz/New Music “New Arrivals” sections, pulling out a large stack of promising titles. Near the end of the day I put them all back un-listened to. Who’s the man? Not me—I am the SLOTH . Hurrah!

Cat Update!

2006-03-12T10:11:00.000-08:00

Seems mellow, possibly even cool, but is sitting in the bathtub.

Enjoy Your Strawman!

2006-03-12T09:36:00.000-08:00

I don't have my friend Sam's hang-up, but I appreciate his urge for comprehensibility. Question: Can one measure satisfaction or enjoyment as experienced subjectively by different folk comparatively? Answer: Probably not! And yet, for sport, why not? Rock on, one and all.

Other People!

2006-03-08T09:54:00.000-08:00

Work is not so bad, really. And a paycheque is fantastic. But what makes a workday run too long is the special kind of hell that only other people are able to make. This hell comes out mostly through the small things, the build-up of minor irritations. Ironically, could this be the basis for humanity, this special capacity? Of course, I like my workmates. It's the...others.... Oh well, at least I don't have to work with me. That would suck.

P. S. Check this out: THIS!

Saturdays!

2006-03-05T20:05:00.000-08:00

Saturdays are great. They really are. However, I think I have to clean out my cat's little box.

News Flash to Nobody!

2006-03-03T22:29:00.000-08:00

I can be a very boring conversationalist, especially when tired. Sorry.

Danger!

2006-03-02T16:09:00.000-08:00

Three posts in one day for the new blog! Fear not, mighty sloth, they all have been about...nothing! (Cat update: still crazy, me and him both....)

A New Post - Already!

2006-03-02T12:20:00.000-08:00

My cat, Satchel, is driving me crazy. Nothing else to report.

A New Blog For An Old Way Of Life!

2006-03-02T11:33:00.000-08:00

Behold! Sloth is more than a blog title, it is a way of life, my life. O sloth, massive and great sloth--I am your lazy supplicant, your number one fan.