xtcian

11/9/02 Since we're never here

11/9/02

Since we're never here on the weekends, we got to do something we never do: go to the Farmer's Market that rests in the middle of Grand Army Plaza. Now, the Plaza is an incredibly dramatic piece of work, a giant archway with huge bronze statues of soldiers and chariots shouting forth the victory of Brooklyn with a triumph rarely seen in America. It was actually built in 1892 by the same guy who designed Grant's Tomb as a giant Thanks For a Job Well Done to the Union soldiers of the Civil War, many of whom were entering their elder years when it was erected.

But more cool than that, the whole Plaza acts as an introduction to Prospect Park, and the (then)-wilderness of Long Island. City folk would have a little house out in the country here, and they would pass through the arch on their way to their own personal Elysia. It's one of those things you're glad is still around, and if you've ever been to London, it gives Marble Arch a run for its money.

the Grand Army Plaza farmer's market, selling those Thanksgiving-ish berry trees that white people like to put up for the holidays

We took Chopin the dog with us to the market, which I warned Tessa would be a big mistake; indeed, he almost started a fight with a white Labrador, and scrounge-hounded his way to free cheese, muffin bits, and our patience limit.

I always O.D. on the baked goods; there's just something about "Apricot Bread" prepared by hot Amish wives that sounds too sexy to pass up. Note to Farmer's Market shoppers: get the Chocolate Chip Pumpkin loaf instead. It's terrifying how good that shit is.

11/8/02 Put it this way:

11/8/02

Put it this way: everyone always complains about how it goes straight from summer to winter, but this year has been ridiculous. We went from having the AC on full time - to wearing ski masks, pretty much in one week. Thank god for the next few days, probably the only respite we'll get until the spring thaws out. I was so psyched to be outside that Chopes and I sat on the stoop for a half hour and growled at all the huskies wandering by with their owners. How dare they just walk by like that don't they know that the Chopes owns the sidewalk from Berkeley to Lincoln?

Tessa and I recreated an early date (circa 2000) tonight by going to Jesse Drucker's birthday party at Rasputin, which is a giant floor-show Russian dinner extravaganza that has to be seen to be believed. The meals last for about two hours (my faves: the salmon and the lamb) while a set of dazzling young Russian singers recreate a boisterous set of Euro-disco from the stage. By dessert, the lights dim and the floor show begins: glitzy, surreal, vaguely-related pieces that feature Vegas-style excessiveness and hot, hot, hot Russian dancers who don't wear very much. In between the sets, the crowd gets dancing, and it becomes a mosh pit (with better clothing):

Since Tessa doesn't drink anymore and I have pretty much followed suit, the whole thing began to overload our brains; it's truly an experience best felt behind the hazy penumbra of three or four vodkas (provided). Plus, this show didn't have the spectacle of the one we saw two years ago this one was a little more twee and there were far from enough breastesses, in my humble opinion. If you've never been, though, Jesus...

I tried to take a few pics while there, but I'm still getting the hang of the new camera. Of course, the mistakes you make can be even more interesting than your intentions.

the wrong shutter speed and a weird flash combine for this picture of Tessa, Nell and me (yes, we're in there). Click for a bigger version

11/7/02 Hey there boys and

11/7/02

Hey there boys and girls! I promise no moping about how America has gone down the shitter (at least not tonight), and instead, we're going to take a Whirlwind Cavalcade Tour of MY ELECTRONIC STUFF!!! You know how I was talking about how we wish some of our diaries mentioned the stuff we were wearing and hearing at the time of writing, because it can end up being so much more interesting down the road? No? Well, I did mention it.

Anyway, here's a rundown of the techie stuff we're currently using here in Brooklyn and at the farm – just so it can seem delightfully quaint in a few years time.

1. Computers.

Tessa uses an 800 MHz iBook (the grey kind) and MacOS X, and I'm typing this right now on my trusted old friend, the original Tangerine iBook, which has seen me through many a tight spot. In the back office, I keep my ultimate grandfather workhorse, a tangerine 266 MHz iMac that I will carry with me throughout my days, like an heirloom from the Civil War. Asset Pictures is planning on getting the dual 1.25 gig G4 with two Ag Neovo flatscreen monitors for the office tomorrow, so I'm as excited as a little kid about to get a Big Wheel.

2. PDA's.

For some reason, that term still means Personal Displays of Affection to me, something that could get you four demerits and a lost Saturday at my high school. Anyway, Tessa has the new Palm m515, which purrs like a kitten and lets you read novels on it. I have an ancient Palm V that has 2MB of memory and only turns on when the tiny gerbils inside are feeling up to it.

3. Wireless.

Words cannot express how fucking cool the 802.11b wifi world is, better known to us Mac aficionados as the Airport. We have one of these pumping through our apartment in Brooklyn (and the roughly 25 other apartments around us, even though they don't know it), and one at the farm that allows us to surf the net while in the cow pasture. Some people would find that silly, but you know what? Don't be so judgmental. At least I can still get excited about something.

4. Stereo.

I don't own a single piece of stereo equipment that was bought in this decade, or even the last. My stereo remains the same: a 1987 Onkyo amp with a separate radio tuner (do they even sell those anymore?), a 6-CD player without a fast-forward button, and speakers that have fallen off so many bookshelves that I have to Superglue the coils back together every year or so. But when it's all working, it's an analog enthusiast's dream. Just don't, you know, walk around too much when you're near them.

5. Cable and broadband.

Our particular block in Brooklyn got hosed for digital cable, so we're stuck with shitty analog, which is actually more expensive and has 1/9th the channels. And since Verizon has a lot of bullshit business policies, we went with Earthlink DSL, which has been great. Upstate, we use DSL from Taconic Technologies, which is a flawless service seemingly run by two old ladies named Blanche. Digital cable up there is a little spotty and slow, but we cut everything in the Berkshires an incredible amount of slack because the cheese is so good.

6. Other cool stuff.

Because of this blog, I got totally hooked on digital pictures, which is not the cheapest hobby on earth, but one of the more instantly satisfying. When my beloved Olympus D-520 Zoom fell off the top of a refrigerator on Halloween, I upgraded to a D-550 to have a little more resolution (3 megapixels, which means you can blow pics up to 11x17). I've stuck with Olympus because I like the navigation on the back, and I'm also a huge fan of SmartMedia cards, which are the coolest little floppy disks since sliced bread.

Another great purchase of ours was the XM Satellite Radio, which earned a new merit badge by helping me get to the hospital on a 2-hour drive with a kidney stone whilst on Percoset. And I'd like to give a shout-out to my cell phone, which is Sprint's Samsung SCH-8500, a little guy with whom I've had no trouble. Tessa uses the newer version of that AT&T Nokia red phone that everyone else on earth has.

God, it looks like we have a lot of stuff. Maybe we should be more ascetic about this kind of thing, but I come from a long line of strong ancestors who embrace new technology with both arms. My mom had the first Mac in 1985, and was on the "internet" (Prodigy) in 1987. My grandmother once told me that she remembered the first car she ever saw, driving up through the dusty farmland of rural Colorado in the early teens, and remarking to herself how beautiful it was. I hope to carry some of that fearlessness with me wherever I go.

writing this blog on the iBook right now - meta-meta-picture, eh?

11/6/02 I'm still trying to

11/6/02

I'm still trying to recover from last night. My ability to take pride in my country took a serious hit, a feeling much worse than I imagined. When I learned that Mondale had lost - and lost convincingly in Minnesota, my stomach fell out. I guess I always thought the best of Americans; there might be some terrible ideas out there, but at least more than half thought like I did. I was wrong. I have this terrible feeling that this country is now on a course towards an awful blow – be it terrorist, environmental, or profoundly spiritual – and I just pray that my family and close friends aren't caught in its wake.

Because my family and friends are good people with smart, sensitive beliefs and want the best for everyone around them, and they don't deserve to be hurt by something these thinly-veiled fascists set in motion. If one person I know even gets a scrape because of a war in Iraq, I will never forgive. I will be like one of those ancient, leather-faced men in Siberia whose parents were purged under Stalin, so full of rage that I could do nothing but peel potatoes under a freezing midnight sun.

This is a dark time, a time for cocooning, a time for staying away from huge crowds, a time for journeys far away, a time for small dinner parties with the friends you have always loved. It's a time for expatriation, for headphones in place of dancing, for dark Scotches instead of cherries and schnapps. It's time to hoard, to face a media blackout and watch movies with one light on. It's a time for personal dramas and intimate comedies, for black-box plays done in the round. Campfires, sunsets, spooning. When the falcon cannot hear the falconer, we must whisper in each other's ears.

11/5/02 My fellow Americans: What

11/5/02

My fellow Americans:

What the fuck is wrong with you?

It was in tonight's fading hours that I realized the same horror that I had sublimated almost two years ago: it's not the Republicans I can't stand, it's you. Exactly what mass delusion are you suffering from, the one that told you it was okay to let one party take over the White House, both chambers of Congress and the Supreme Court? It's one thing to tolerate a political party that doesn't like black people, that wants to keep women earning 73 cents to a man's dollar, to start an era of coat-hanger abortions, to unilaterally attack any country full of brown people that they want, and to fuck up the environment so bad that my grandkids will have to wear 450 SPF sunscreen just to go play on a jungle gym it's quite another to put them in control of OUR ENTIRE FUCKING COUNTRY.

Don't you get it? Fox News is entertainment, not reality - they don't even believe the things they say on there. Why are you filled with so much fear? Are you afraid black men might have sex with your daughters, or some Chinese guy is going to take your job? And you women: how can you possibly be so self-loathing as to vote Republican? Do you suffer from some kind of codependence that lets you get off on being ignored and marginalized?

My fellow Americans, your vote tonight is going to convince the chowder-headed hawks in the White House that they have a clear mandate to bomb the shit out of Iraq and judging from how stupid you are, they do. Not one single person outside of America wants this war, and you have no idea how badly. The rest of the world yearns, screams, howls for change in the way we behave; they clamor for compassion, they plead for us to stop destroying the environment, they chant for us to stop propping up corrupt regimes so we can siphon off their oil – and you just stood up tonight and gave them the finger. At a crucial juncture in world history, when so much could change for the better, you just threw us back to the goddamn 1950s. I hope you're happy.

I used to love travelling around this country, to meet as many new people as I could, understand their lives and make friends in as many time zones as possible. I'd still like to meet some of you, but the rest of you can fuck off after tonight. Minnesota? It shouldn't have been close. Shame on you. And Florida, are you fucking joking?

This is a picture of my hand voting today:

As you can see, none of my candidates won tonight. I assume, as the years wear on, and you get stupider and stupider, that the mere act of my even showing up at a voting booth will become utterly irrelevant. Perhaps the day will come when you get so destructively moronic that I'll stop voting entirely and move away, some place where people treat each other and the world better. For now, I have to labor on, with the sisyphean delusion that I can still make a difference, and this country is worth saving from you. Right now, it's hard to see why.

11/4/02 There is a liminal

11/4/02

There is a liminal between seasons, a time that is neither fall nor winter, and the Hudson Valley has definitely entered that state. It's been creepy cold (something like 15 degrees below normal for almost a month now) and sogging wet which is probably why the original Brits and Dutch who settled this valley liked it so damn much.

The liminal has its own beauty, even if there's no fun to be had between the "crisp afternoons of fall football" and the "sledding and hot chocolate fun of a winter snowstorm." If it's 39 and drizzling, there should be some account of it.

Where: Route 22, Columbia County. Time: 1:45pm. Weather: Suicidal.

Best to busy yourself with projects during times like this, so Tessa has been writing her Scottish coming-of-age screenplay, and I've been doing all the little things that make the farmhouse a little less fratty, and more like a place that my stepmom could stomach. My own mom can sleep anywhere and be happy, but I'll have a few cool surprises for her too.

We were supposed to go back to the city today, but the immeasurably depressing weather and Tessa's flu cultivation – made staying easy. Of course, I dragged her ass to the Home Depot in Kingston (across the Hudson and down a bit) so I could let loose my primal yawp, allowing her no rest. We also ate at Ruby Tuesday's, which, as corporate food goes, is still pretty shitty. It's not even as good as Applebee's, which in turn, isn't as good as Bennigan's, which isn't as good as TGIFriday's, which can't hold a candle to Chi-Chi's. What is it about strip malls and food – does all that asphalt leach out the flavor? My "ribs" tasted like 7-11 burrito meat, although the "spinach con queso" appetizer was pretty forkin' good. I think they put Mini-Thins in it, because afterwards, I was ready to rawk corporate-food style!!!

11/3/02 Sometime last month I

11/3/02

Sometime last month I was suddenly curious as to how Tina Fey of Saturday Night Live got her scar. "A childhood injury she doesn't like to discuss out of respect to her parents" is the answer I found, which seems cool with me (there's plenty of childhood crapola I don't put on here either), but apparently that's not good enough for the legions of SNL dorks out there determined to find an answer: turns out "Tina Fey scar" is one of the highest-searched text strings on Google, and one blogger was bitching about how that was the only reason anyone ever came to her web page.

So in the interests of being interesting, let's go into my web stats and look at some of the top text searches that bring you to this little cybernook, shall we?

1. "ian williams"

Well, that's a relief, right? Something about my brother Steve's web page gives Google a warm, fuzzy feeling and they rate links from him very highly. Sorry for those of you who got here looking for the Ian Williams who writes for Salon - his work can be found here. [ed. note from future: now I write for Salon too as "Ian R. Williams" - you know, to make things more confusing] Many of you are also looking for various professors in New Zealand and Australia, but I promise, I'm way more fun to hang out with, at least on the long-term.

2. "neve campbell naked"
"julianne moore nude"
"jennifer love hewitt's boobs"
"heather graham nude"

I'm combining these because they share a certain joie de vivre, n'est-ce pas? Many folks end up on this blog site not for the blog at all, but for the extensive list of movie reviews that Steve culled from my days being Citysearch's film critic. This was back in the early days of the internet, before granny-based focus groups forbade the use of words like "boobs" on a New Economy web site, a simpler time that allowed me to write such gloriously pissed-off film critiques like this one. Back then, I always mentioned whether or not there was gratuitous nudity, which makes many Googlers (oglers?) very fond of visiting my reviews of Boogie Nights, Wild Things, and curiously, Palmetto.

3. "refresh tears"

I am glad to see Americans checking up on their corneal lubricants, and since it leads them here, let me just say it now: Refresh Tears is a damn fine product, and unlike Visine, you can use it every five minutes if you want to. Thumbs up!

3. "ali farahnakian"

Good press for the Leefer. Ali and I lived for years on the same hall in college, and though we had our typical 19-year-old run-ins, age has mellowed me into a profound respect for the man. He can be seen on Sunday nights at the UCB Theater and now he has his own project, The Pit (the Peoples Improv Theater). He also has a mean drive through the lane for virtually unstoppable lay-ups.

4. "stasia droze"

What are you people doing searching for my sweet Stasia Droze? You better not be up to something. And she's happily married now, so don't be all "whassup?" or anything.

5. "rimadyl overdose"

This comes from our dog Chopin's decision to chow down an entire bottle (probably 3600mg) of the doggy painkiller Rimadyl while he was waiting for us in the car. To be honest, I did this precise web search myself that night and didn't come up with much, so here's my first-hand experience: if your dog had 3 or 4 pills, don't sweat it. If he possibly had more (ours had about 60), get him to the hospital. He needs to barf it out quickly, then get dosed with activated charcoal to keep the rest of the drug from getting into his system. He also needs blood work to check for liver and kidney damage. It ain't cheap, but yer doggie is worth it.

So let's do something even more interesting: see the last text search that brought someone here. It is...

At Nov 3 23:37:50:
'Wild Things'+threesome.

*sigh*
I swear, I try to bring some meaningful discussion to the internet...