I Want A Sock Puppet

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Extreme Skateboarding, XGames Style - via kottke.org

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Extreme Skateboarding, Danny Way style

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Interesting View of ‘The Village’

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The Container Store: Acrylic Wipe-Off Boards - You’ll never buy another white board.

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We Will Eat This Every Night and We Will Be Happy

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Ummmmmmmmmmmm. Umm. Ummm! Ummm? Ummmmmm. Hum. Erm. Barrrrgh. Edet. Deeee bop. Burrrrr? These are the sounds of me debating whether to start a hidden version of this site, one where I share everything that is on my mind in a completely straightforward no-nonsense manner. In reality, it would not be that hard, I would take the current “life” posts and any future ones, and password-protect their viewing. Any hard-core hackers who really did want my personal logs could probably force their way in, and that wouldn’t particularly bother me; I wouldn’t post social security numbers or my current location via GPS coordinates. But really, Erin made a great argument for journals: they help you clarify your thoughts and realize what you are really thinking. Thing is, the front page of this site really used to be traffic-free: no one visited. Now, traffic has certainly increased, but it’s more that people I know visit. One possible option could be to wait for the people I know to get bored with visiting and then I could resume personal details. However, I do feel I could be more honest about my life if I knew that everything I said would not escape the confines of the digital realm.

In reality, writing to an audience has limited my scope of expression. On the other hand, it has improved my writing tremendously because I need to remember to clearly articulate all of the ideas I share. I can not simply say “dinner was bad tonight,” I need to write and grab your attention so you are curious why dinner was so poor. Similarily, I shouldn’t be saying, “I am confused” unless I am prepared to engage my audience about the details of why (and of what) I am confused. Thus, I am presented with two options:

1.) Go on with vague references, half-journals, and guarded posts about nebulous topics.
2.) Come to terms with the risks of posting things online and just journal, disregarding whatever small audience is present.

Right now, I think I may continue in the tradition of 1.) with an occasional 2.) zinger thrown in. I think that would be the best. I also think I have gone on a bit long about this; back to regularly scheduled posting.

Matt has gotten a 1999 Mercury Cougar (of greatness). At least, upon speaking with Steve last night, it looks like this is the case. I tend to insert the “of greatness” at the end of certain nouns (proper nouns, too!), not sure why this is. Anyways, the new vehicle has a moonroof, of which I am very jealous. I will probably meet the car soon, and give you my first-hand impression at that point.

Saw Napoleon Dynamite with Mykala and her sister Kourtni (both of whom have really really great spellings of their names) - and I was completely amazed. What I liked the most about the movie is the way it refuses to stick to any “time-tested” formulas for the way in which a movie should flow, appear, and catch our interest. The spot-on casting, unique camera angles, and hilarious scenes are all cleanly and snugly tied together by the insightful script. To give details to prove these assertions would ruin the movie, you simply have to see it yourself. Furthermore, I especially like the cleanliness of the movie. It has more than one opportunity to expand on the shadiness of some of its characters by using dirty situations. But once again, it refuses to: someone behind Napoleon Dynamite knew they could make more of a point by really thinking things through instead of defaulting to a cinematic cliche.

Oh, and Mykala has a LoveSac. My jealousy overfloweth.

By the way, my friend Steve had a crap week last week. There were bits of humor, but even those were stressful. Steve works switchboard @ Fairview Health in Minneapolis; one of the conversations went something like this:

Steve: Patient information, how may I help you?
Guy: Yeah, my friend might have checked in here a couple of days ago. gives name
S: I don’t see him here, he might have been discharg-
G: No. He hasn’t been. They stabbed him like 9 times in the back and slit his throat. I don’t think so.

And then there was this one:

Steve: Patient information, how may I help you?
Woman: Yeah, I’m calling about my dad. gives name
S: Yes, I have his room number here, shall I put you through to him?
W: That’s ok, is he dead yet?
S: Excuse me?
W: Oh, sorry. Is he … deceased?

I mean, when this sort of stuff is your humor for the week, you can’t help but have a not-so-great-time. Hey, keep Steve in your thoughts, OK?

Anyhow, Nils is nearing the final-editing of his movie on my machine here. His cuts are great, as is the soundtrack, I think you all will like it and certainly should buy the dvd. The only visual of this top secret project I can offer right now is below:

Final thought: John has gotten me into rollerblading. I constantly give him crap for having ABEC 5’s, as I only have ABEC 1’s. No, we are not the usual guys who are obsessed with the horsepower of cars: it’s all in good fun. But let’s be honest, the kid can fly on those things. Certainly is making me consider purchasing a pair.

In the meantime, I will concentrate on learning how to fall the right way, because falls are unavoidable.

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DDR + Crutches - Having played some DDR myself, I think this is completely incredible. Thanks, John.

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Time out for two musical recommendations. I heard these both on Drive 105 recently, and was impressed in spite of myself (radio really is not that good for listening to real music). Since there is only a tape player in the car in which I commute, I do occasionally turn off the limited number of albums I have and scan the dial for something of worth.

The Killer’s song, called “Somebody Told Me,” struck me first because of its odd mix of alternative guitar-driven riffs and electronic touches. Never one to miss a sawtooth wave (I still can’t figure out why I like melodic-trance and euro dance, but I will save that story for another time), my ears immediately perked up while listening. I was rewarded, as the band began some really catchy lyrics about … well you’ll just have to listen to the song. This one will get you drumming on your steering wheel.

Before I mention the next band, let me take a time out to mention the stunning capabilities of Amazon’s relational database. Upon looking up the previous album, Amazon recommended both Snow Patrol and The Postal Service to me. I was raving about Snow Patrol’s “Run” in my “Visits” sidebar earlier (the link might still be there) and (ironically), The Postal Service was the next band I was going to mention. Now, their song, “Such Great Heights” has turned me on to Indie rock (although calling it electronica would probably be a much better idea), more than the Violent Femmes did. You simply have to hear this song, preferably wearing headphones. Not only is the tune addicting, the production superb and fresh, but the lyrics (oh the lyrics):

I am thinking it’s a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they’re perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay

Ladies and gentleman, your host may be purchasing an album, the first authentic physical compact disc since DJ Encore’s fantastic album of wonder (two years ago now I think). In the meantime, scamper on over to Amazon like good little kids and get a taste of some clean, fresh music.

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Been rather hot lately. A wet-blanket pulled-up-around-your-ears kind of heat. I do most of my work on school and for St. Thomas here in the basement, so I live in a sweatshirt and 69 degrees Fahrenheit. Though yesterday, I decided to take the longest run I have ever embarked upon. Why do I do things like this? Certainly a question I ask myself about a wide variety of activities, and most definitely a question I was asking at around mile three.

A bit into the run, I started to realize what heat stroke feels like. Being a teenage guy, doing stupid things comes naturally to me, so I did not really expect actual heat stroke to set in. Nevertheless, the wind died down and I felt this incredible heat coming off every part of my body. Shortly afterwards, I started to sense goosebumps up my back. Uh oh. It felt like I was cold from the inside out.

The funny thing about tunnel vision is, you don’t notice that you had it until it’s gone. After splashing loads of water on my face and down my neck, I staggered downstairs: two minutes later I realized I could see again. It isn’t so much that you can’t see things in your peripheral vision, just that your brain does not seem to register the things that are there. Almost as if the power to your eyes is running low, so they process only a small amount of light to save energy. (That’s not really it, but it’s a decent computer analogy.) You know, when all is said and done, I really don’t know how much I like running. I enjoy moving faster than walking, getting sun, and the blissful exhaustion that sets in after, but I still question if I really like it.

Might as well keep on until I decide.

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