Archive for March, 2004

Rally Traffic
Outside my front windows right now, an anti-occupation/peace march is moving through the streets of St. Paul. As I’m writing this, they’ve stopped in the middle of the intersection for a native circle dance with politically charged proclamations in two languages. Some of the dancers have rally magnificent costumes with full, high feathers and shining blue wardrobes reminiscent of (or perhaps genuine) Central American ceremonial garb. It’s really something.

Sara’s got the camera and, I hope, has gotten a few pictures of all this. It’s one more reason why I don’t think I could live in the ‘burbs again.

Noise: The slow fading of protestant drums growing distant.

Halo: Done
Played a bunch of multiplayer Halo over the last weekend; loved it. Started the single-player campaign on Monday of this last week, finished it last night. Full review forthcoming.

Somewhere Outside Tomah, Wisconsin
Written March 12th, 2004

Once again in the car between the Twin Cities and Chicago, once again trying to write a blog about it. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins is in a frenzy but Wisconsin is still and dark, all campgrounds, truck stops, farms, and churches off of I-94. Weird orange lights show up in the distance, suggesting a parking lot, a utility building, a chain-link fence. Then the dark cuts in again and there’s nothing out the window but the reflection of me typing. Just as suddenly, it’s truck stops and Holiday Inn again, floodlights and tractor-trailers lined up alone like huge headless slugs.

This repeating pattern goes for hours from one end of Wisconsin to the other, punctuated by Madison in the middle like the label at the center of a vinyl record. From here it’s 94 miles to the capitol, then an hour to Beloit and an hour and a half to Chicago. That’s four or five CDs, maybe, but probably more. Weezer is lively enough to keep us awake in the end stretch, but only 40 minutes long. In CDs, though, the trip doesn’t seem so bad.

Without sound, the trip is like a coma. Sleepiness presses down like gravity. The outside world grows smaller as you grow more tired. It closes in like an image with the contrast turned down, blacks expanding and absorbing everything. Eventually telemetry comes into the brain in spurts like snapshots, like a webcam–the data received between blinks is all there is. Until the next transmission, until your head snaps back up and gulps down another eyeful of the live world, that sample is what you go on. Hold it in your head like a breath and stay under, asleep, for the precious black moment you can before you come up for amber air again.

Noise: Nick Cave, “Red Right Hand”

Ides of March
Hey, this past Monday was my seventh anniversary with Sara. We celebrated with a trip to the zoo in winter to see some aminals and a nice meal out at Christo’s Greek restaraunt in the old St. Paul train station. All around, a pretty wonderful day.

Force Is Machine
In the name of inspiration, I’ve recently watched just about every episode of Band of Brothers again and discovered, first, that it’s not at all in the spirit of what I’m working on and, second, that I have been watching it instead of working. Of course.

Anyway: Man, is that a densely packed television program. Every time I find something new to hear, something new to gawk at in the production, and something else to love about that stellar cast. First time through it’s almost impossible to tell the guys apart. As a result, it all gets much better on subsequent viewings. Recommended.

Meanwhile, I constructed a Livejournal account recently so I can cavil in other people’s comments sections with a little picture next to my name. Also, so I won’t continue to be anonymous. Feel free to go over there if you want a link that leads back to here.

This weekend it’s back into Chicagoland for Marty’s annual St. Patrick’s Day party. Besides being a bold test of the human body’s limit on liquid volume, it’s also a treat to visit the city on St. Pat’s, when every bar stool and street corner is occupied by jolly blokes drunk since dawn. Everywhere you look (on mailboxes, on the L, on shelves at the video store) there’s a plastic cup or a glass mug with a dash of foam and a skosh of cheap beer at the bottom. For Sara and I, this trip also has us auditioning a couple of places for nuptials, visiting the swank Japanese paper and art supply shop Aiko’s, and crossing the street to browse the city’s titular and greatest comic shop, Chicago Comics. All this, mind you, just on Saturday, sandwiched ‘twixt two days of driving. I do love Chicago.

Coming soon, the meaningful stuff I promise to be forthcoming but never is.

Noise: Nitzer Ebb, “Join in the Chant”

Progress Report
Handling just the creation of these two pages has taken longer than I expected, so they’re still lacking in that content we talked about. All the same, here are two new pages for you to examine. How do they look?

the [about] page
the [design] page

I’m not honestly sure I need both of these new pages, but I’m very fond of one of them without thinking it much fits the purpose of a c.v. page (and so it is not a c.v. page any longer). At the same time, I don’t want to get rid of this page or imagine that any of you will want more than one page to visit when you’re killing time at work. So it goes.

All opinions are very welcome.

Noise: James Newton Howard’s score for Hidalgo

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