Odyssey -- Part II

Well, E, you know I'm not about to come to Atlanta without calling on Usher, but it turns out my boy's warmed those cold feet, and plans to go through for real with his wedding this weekend. So, unless Pockets and I crash it, we're not kicking it with him, and we're not kicking it with VIP guest Jermaine Dupri either (Are these pictures from the rehearsal dinner?). Anyway, it's all very sad that all the heroes of the Dirty Dirty will be otherwise occupied. I'll just drown my sorrows in Coca-Cola tomorrow.

Anyway, not much to report from Atlanta thus far. Pockets read the previous blog post and said, "What if nothing interesting happens on our trip and you keep posting boring stuff like that?" Then we went to load the car, and found it infested with ants. They crawled through the passenger door, the driver side door, and they were all over the engine and had colonized the car battery. Now, that's excitement, right?

Odyssey -- Part I

So, on Wednesday Pockets and I lit a trail out of DC. Our goal--loosely defined-- is to arrive in the Bay Area on September 14th. Most of our journey so far has been southwards. Yesterday, we were in Durham, which post-rape-scandal has become a heavily policed town. Make of that what you will. We walked around campus a little, which wasn't too nostalgic an experience for me because there's been so much construction since I left the place looks pretty different. Freshmen walked around dazed, douchey law students chatted into cell phones, picking at their neck-ties, in between their on-campus interviews. We looked up my thesis in the library, took some photographs in Cameron, I pointed out where Dawson's Creek scenes were filmed, and then we blazed out of there.

Now, we're in Augusta, home of some golf tournament and James Brown--whose statue (pictured) stands on Broad Street across from the Augusta Commons. This weekend we're in the ATL, where I plan to kick it with Andre 3000 and Jermaine Dupri.

burying the lede

perhaps as a result of recent murdochian shenanigans, i've become a semi-regular reader of the wall street journal. i think mostly because i can access the website for free at work. i know, have i finally become alex p keaton? will i suddenly start sporting sweater vests? i think my wsj-skimming began with the gonzales v. carhart case. i knew what the times would say: it is a travesty to women, how dare anyone touch my uterus, etc. to my surprise, the journal wasn't so keen on that decision either, albeit with much less fearmongering.

anyway, my sister drew my attention to two articles on yesterday's census report on american income levels. the times' headline reads "Census Shows a Modest Rise in US Income" while the journal reads "Census Income Report Fuels Health-Care Debate." now, these are not substantively different headlines, but i enjoyed comparing the opening paragraphs:

nytimes: The nation’s median household income grew modestly in 2006, the Census Bureau reported yesterday, even as the percentage of people without health insurance hit a high.

wsj: Five years into an economic recovery, the benefits of growth are finally filtering down to some of the poorest Americans and the income of the typical family is climbing. But earnings of full-time workers aren't keeping up with inflation, and the ranks of those without health insurance are rising.

pretty amusing. i even gave you guys the 2nd sentence of the first paragraph in the journal article bc i am just that unbiased and committed to high journalistic standards. okay, so i'll come clean. i haven't read these articles all the way through. i swear i will...some day.

btw, do you think the TSA decided searching people's beards would just totally be an imposition on zz top?

oh yeah, you should click on the photo, although i'm sure everyone's seen this already.

They Shoot Butterscotch Stallions, Don't They?

Fredo resigned today, prominent Republicans continue to troll for gay sex, and a portly man with pink hair--whose stock and trade is calling fatter men names--reported that some former Yankees minor leaguer finally ran out of elixir. It's been a saturated news weekend, so I haven't really given the Owen Wilson suicide attempt the attention it so richly deserves. But here are my thoughts: Um, what the fuck? Then I remembered the above scene from The Royal Tenenbaums he co-wrote for his brother--a scene which was creepy enough already because it's scored by Elliott Smith, whose own suicide attempt was decidedly more successful.

Mad Skills

So, our stringer in DC tells me I need to blog about Obama playing basketball before Wonkette gets its hands on the video. So, here it is: very poor shooting mechanics, lots of tenacious d. I'm not sure what it says about Obama as President, but fortunately for me his aggressive Rovian masterplan to finish no better than second in every primary before Illinois means I don't have to give it much thought.

In addition to his mad skills, Obama has been making news on other fronts. Or rather his wife, Michelle, has, with her Ricki Lake-style zingers. Candidate Obama reported that Michelle has channelled hypersensitive moral majoritarians in decrying the I Got a Crush on Obama Girl for her depraved attempts at tearing Obama family values asunder ("Daddy already has a wife, Ricki!"). And then Drudge brought news that Michelle made a thinly veiled attack on Hilary for--what else--being unable to get Bill to keep it in his pants ("If you can't run your own house, Jerry, how can you run the White House?"). Of course, like all things Drudge, that report was bullshit.

But still if you put yourself out there as the candidate of sea change in American politics, really, you shouldn't be losing your shit at people who actually support you (and give you gobs of free press). I mean you can't be as petty and fake-family-values-oriented as the rest of the lot and still claim to be laying the groundwork for the revolution.

So, I just put up a vintage C4tS rant-post and the stupid Blogger program just ate it. I'll try again tomorrow.

aawon buhh

so i get this shiz in my inbox this morning:

On behalf of Columbia College
I, the Honorable Alexander Hamilton,
cordially invite you to the

Launch of The Columbia Campaign For
Undergraduate Education and Centennial Celebration
of Hamilton Hall (named for me)

Guest speaker: Ron Chernow, author of Alexander Hamilton

Saturday, September 8, 2007
1:30 p.m.

Hamilton Hall
Columbia College

Please register online by August 22, 2007

Business Casual Attire
or
Period Costumes

this invite moves me in so many ways: period costumes? alexander hamilton speaking to me in the first person and suggesting that i not only show up to this thing, but register online? it also reminds me of this dude i sort of knew in college who had pale skin, ruddy cheeks and a mole on his cheek. my friend and i used to call him "enlightenment boy" behind his back and joked that he probably spells economy "o-economy." (c'mon, we were reading adam smith at the time). i bet he's got some period costumes he could wear to this shindig.

Dead Sexy Wedding Pictures

In keeping with Pakistani tradition, a couple of days before the wedding, my family held what is known as the Rasm-i-Henna, or more colloquially, a mehndi ceremony. My sister hired a photographer for the event, who just now returned her proofs to us. Of the hundreds of beautiful shots she took--of singing, dancing, little kids being cute--#750 (pictured) is my favorite: random, bald, hairy guy in his boxer briefs. We don't know who he is, or why he made his way into our wedding pictures--maybe the photographer thought it would be funny to make a subtle jab at my own unforgiving pate and expanding gut. Or maybe this is like that time in high school you wrote curse words into a paper, and then forgot to take them out, before turning it in. Who knows. Regardless, we'll treasure Mr. 750 always. Always and forever. He is the mascot of our love.

gimme a silver wings holiday!

there was this terrible TV ad in the 80s in canada. to think of it, it actually was from some sad little bellingham affiliate station, but i digress. i think the ad was for a sandals-like vacation package and all these eager people in it sang, "give me a silver wings holidaaaaay!" even as a kid i thought, man these people are desperate.

but now i feel like i've become one of those people, wishing for an oasis in the desert that is the working world. don't get me wrong - considering how demoralizing my job could be, it treats me well enough and i don't have much to complain about (surprising, i know). nonetheless, it only recently hit me that i'm not gonna get a bloated 6-week vacation at the end of my summer job. this shit's full-time, dammit.

anyhoo, i'm off for a week-long vacation to the land of donuts and hockey pucks. of course, it's gonna rain almost the entire time i'm there. sigh.

but speaking of canadia, is john mccain funny?

This is Not What Your Umi Had in Mind

In October of 1999 Mos Def released Black on Both Sides; somehow I didn't discover it till the following summer, but when I did it's all I listened to for maybe three months straight. It changed my life, and was one of the reasons I moved to the magical land that is Brooklyn. Since then Mos has blown up--Hollywood-style--which I don't begrudge him, but he's also foregone the MC life, choosing to release two very dismal albums, and then meandering drunk and high through the one live performance of his I managed to catch. Still, I've held on to the hope that the genius within would find a way out, but if ever there were a sign from God that the Mos I knew is no more, this is it: he was caught scuffling with a a paparazzo outside of Hyde, the West Hollywood celebutard club of choice--his brogue an unintelligible mess; his self-righteousness, his sense of entitlement, on full display. He has become one of those empty souls Perez Hilton fetishizes.

What I implied in the inaugural post to this blog, thus, I now say without equivocation: Mos Def is dead. Thanks for the memories.

30 Rock Casting

Diane Keaton should totally be written into the upcoming season of 30 Rock as Liz Lemon's mom. She could have a torrid affair with Jack Donaghy maybe. Sweet Chatty Purns, can you pass this info along to Ms. Fey?

Dream Ticket

More Giuliani--this time with his potential running mate. I don't know. Slow news/personal news day, I guess (unless you really want me to blog about the crepe I ate earlier at Zola). Anyway, having bashed him for so long, I thought it only fair to celebrate America's Mayor's laudible sexual harassment policy.

Golden Years

Happy 60th birthday, Pakistan. To celebrate here's a decent piece from the Guardian by downer-historian William Dalrymple.

we get letters

i have to admit that i didn't grow up watching sesame street (i learned english when i was 9 - gimme a break), but those muppets are so damn witty. sugarpockets, c4ts, i know how much you all are into SVU, so this one's for you both.

btw, how freaked out were you by that old episode about the pedophilic cult leader abraham? shudder.

Because Chihuahua Tranquilizer Would Be Too Obvious

I can understand if your heroin-cocaine-ecstasy cocktail's missing something, you might reach for a little paprika, maybe some basil. But horse tranquilizer? Damn.

Music Video of the Day: Bush's Brain Edition

Having lost the popular vote in 2000, having lost global goodwill post-September 11th, having lost his credibility, self-respect, and sense of purpose in the intervening years, it's fitting, it's inevitable, that today the President actually and officially lost his mind. Bush's Brain has come to realize that while it was fun to paint the blank canvas of his pretend candidate, and then lie and cajole his way into the White House, governing itself isn't nearly as much fun. So, as Turd Blossom returns to the warm Texas soil, I dedicate the video above to our President.

Coldplay, Not for the Streets or Anywhere Else

Everyone has their opinions about celebrity couples. I for one have vaguely positive feelings for Brad and Angelina--despite the inevitable backlash--but I can't stand Gwyneth and her husband: an offensive human assemblage of inanity. So, for me it's no surprise when otherwise sober, peace-loving hippies attack off-duty cops unwinding to the sounds of their own Coldplay karaoke.

iTurdBlossom

I have maybe two ambitions in life: to be a Youtube-approved MC and to own an iPhone. How can I make sense of the world when Karl Rove has beaten me to the punch on both counts? How can you?

fancy feast

JESUS. look at that thing. i am getting depressed just looking at that photo. what are these owners doing to these poor animals? i'm not much of an animal lover: i like meat, i somewhat like leather and i sometimes think all those animal rights groups are out of their mind for not prioritizing the alleviation of human suffering, but this is just cruel.

but doesn't this remind you of that article about how your fatty friends are also making you fat? i'd like to see a photo of this cat's owner. but then again, how come jon arbuckle was so thin?

Forever, ever? Forever, ever?

So, okay, the hiatus has been much longer than I'd intended, but for real, now, I'm back. Well, at least until Pockets and I take the most indirect cross-country trip ever in a couple of weeks, but I'm sure there're going to be internet cafes off I-10 in West Texas and stories galore to share.

I'm on the other side of (the Bar Exam and) the Wedding--major life event(s), for sure--and the comedown has been really strange. Our major passtime now is trying to laugh at all the drama that such an intense gathering of far-flung family gives rise to. But on Sunday, Pockets and I were in the hotel room, decompressing. We opened up the three or four gifts that some people insisted on actually bringing to the wedding, and then we saw it: the most beautiful crystal rose (laid on an accompanying mirror) ever regifted. I share it with you now.

there ain't no nuthin' we can't love each other through...

god i miss family ties.

i know, the photo is really dark. you can't really tell who's in it. why didn't i have my flash on? this is the kind of shit that i think about when i get up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. but i assure you, i was elated to see everyone and the wedding was a blast.

in an unusual bout of sentimentality, this marks the end of my post. everyone, i'm so glad we had a chance to catch up and share some laughs (some courtesy of me, of course). c4ts, sugarpockets, i can't even express how happy i am for both of you. hope you now have a chance to relax.

and blog.