Bush's Vietnam Tour Duty

At long last, Mr. Bush faces the communist enemy in Vietnam.

A Good Night

November 4, 2006 - A night of so-so boxing, but with a great setup.

For fans of HBO's The Wire

Order Carcetti products by clicking on the kowinkydinks store link.

Ear-Biting Endorsement

Tyson endorses Steele

Mike Tyson is enthusiastically endorsing Republican Michael Steele for a Maryland U.S. Senate seat.

Paging Mr. Cardin: Time to call "The Rock" Rahman. Tyson says he would go so far as to climb in the ring and fight again in support of Steele. Well, let's get him in there with Rahman (in support of Democrat Ben Cardin).

Winner takes my vote.

Nevermind - 15 Year Anniversary

Never Your Old Mind Again

When Nirvana first released Nevermind, I didn’t even own a CD player. Soon after the release, though, I bought one of those all-in-one 5-disc changer/tape decks from Circuit City, and I was on my way to amassing quite the CD library (don’t get me started on the process of ripping them all to mp3 format).

The first CD I owned? Dr. Dre’s The Chronic. Why? Well, it was on the shelf near the cash register at CC; it had a parental warning sticker on it; and my mother offered to buy me any CD I wanted so I could test my new equipment out.

The second CD I owned—Nevermind; though, it did come as part of the first 12 CDs I ordered through Columbia House. But for the purposes of the quasi-myths of your youth, it was number 2, alright?

Up until the Nirvana era, my musical tastes ranged from the skaterpunk music I picked up on from the neighborhood baddies to the heavy metal noise I picked up on from the other baddies (the alcoholic versions, though there was a lot of cross-pollination) to the rap music I was turned on to by my city-dwelling wigger cousin to listening to Lite 102 torch songs and ballads, calling in to make requests for songs to be played for all those girls in my class I had quiet crushes on.

Then came Nirvana.

And never again did I stay up late at night making embarrassing requests. Crushes: “oh well, whatever, nevermind.” It was time to accept that the prettiest girls in class (even the mid-range ones I settled for—in my mind) would view me as nothing more than an odd curiosity (not to be confused with a curious oddity: that came about when I discovered Aphex Twin years later)—a rather short-lived odd curiosity.

Instead of hanging my head in dejection, my head would be bowed only out of spite, a disdainful gesture for all those I now considered unworthy of my time. If I’m invisible, then so are you.

This attitude (which has been oh-so all been done before, has been commodified, has been ironically vilified, absurdly embraced, etc.) still didn’t change the fact of how alone I was. Nirvana’s Nevermind was the soundtrack that made it all too clear that ‘alone’ was just an illusion; I was alone because I was around all the wrong people; I was trying too hard to be part of all the wrong people.

Nevermind helped the Disaffected find each other. Say what you will about Nirvana’s artistry, or lack thereof: paradoxically, Nevermind, Nirvana, and particularly Kurt Cobain probably inspired FEWER suicides.

ants at the poison trough

we're not such good bodhisattvas

literary critic: Grub Street 2006

american garish

She still loves what? (Belair Road, Baltimore)

Toad the Wet Sprocket RamsHead Live 6-2-06

the sun done blowed up

the problem with americans

hummer

needs more than normal parking space

nuff said

burned out baltimore

Clever Reverend #3

this week's kowinkydink

i was updating my queue over at Netflix on Friday and there was a recommendation for the documentary Paradise Lost, a story of how these three kids got railroaded in Arkansas on murder charges. there was a part 2 to the doc and years ago i followed the website they had set up for the boys, now known as the West Memphis Three.

i posted on My Space some info on the Three and today i read that there was an art show this weekend to help raise money for them. West Memphis Three art show

is this synchronicity? or is it simply someone at Netflix knew about the story and made sure the DVD popped up on everyone's Recommendations?

Clever Reverend #2

Thoughts on Windmills

It’s 11:11 and I wish I were an Oscar Winner weiner,
home on my hidden valley ranch.
There’s a wife in my future—
I can feel the tightening.
She would do anything for me,
except take care of herself, which is
the only thing I want from her.
Ezra Pound’s middle name is Loomis.
Hey hon, let’s go to the pound to get a cat
and name it Loomis so we’ll have something
more than the weather to talk about
when people come over. It very well may
facilitate discussion about Pound, fascism,
and Italy—Oh, how I’d love to go to Italy!—
the ladies will say, taking larger sips, gulps even,
putting the wine glass on the table
instead of holding it in their hands to help them
feel more comfortable, less awkward, and gesture gesture
their love for everything Italian and how much more authentic
it would be to have it all to try it all to snap photos of it all
in the home country itself. And the cat,
Loomis, will cough up a hairball; we will run out wine;
and I’ll be hoping it’s not too late to catch
at least one fight on ESPN2 to make this whole night
worth the whole day I gave it.
And before I fall asleep, I will think of ingrown hairs,
and turn to you and say,
Hey hon, we should live together—
I haven’t any tweezers.

Found Poem

(stones)

ends dimmed.
why boy killed himself

Here We Went Round the Mulberry Bush

I, I, I

It's the sixties all over again,
and I am standing on the sidelines
jerking off into a Dixie Cup that
is a donation to nowhere.

I am a genuine fake Picasso.

I remain blurred; Photoshop is no help.

I sold my house
so I could write this poem.

I've got ice cream in my pocket,
and Jesus was my Sugar Daddy last night.

I eat airplane peanuts
weeks after they are served.

The only forgiveness I want is from my cat–
my girlfriend has a dog.

Sometimes I doubt my commitment to Sparkle Motion.

I've got beer on my shoulder.

I tend generally.