Blast From the Past

Johnny Bravo |MTV Music

D.

Warning: Political Content (Part 1)

A) Code Pink protesters interrupt during McCain's acceptance speech in St. Paul.

B) A primary plank in the GOP platform is National Security, with theirs being the party that will keep our borders secure and our civilian population safe.

Contemplating A and B together, two possibilities emerge:

1) The protest was stage-managed by GOP convention organizers, to give McCain something to 'spontaneously' riff on ("My friends... don't be diverted by the ground noise and the static!"), or

2) Protesters actually got in to the convention and did their protest.

If A+B=1, Then a question is raised over the general truthfulness of the campaign, right at its moment of inception.

If A+B=2, Then the GOP image as the party of security is called in to question, since they couldn't screen and prevent protesters from interrupting the nationally televised and widely-viewed speech of their candidate.

D.

Hell Freezes Over

Well, the apocalypse is definitely upon us folks - I have proof.

Proof 1: Somehow, I got an 85 on my first Physics test. How the fuck did I do that? I tried like crazy to study, but just didn't feel like I was getting anything. Workbook problems remained unsolved as I couldn't even work out what the nature of the problem was. Can I apply F=Ma to this? No? Yes? Is anything moving, let alone accelerating? Force is a Vector, right? What time is it? Nonetheless, come test time, I guess some part of my brain kicked in. Really, it was the labs that did it, so whoever decided that labs needed to be part of the science curriculum: thanks.

Proof 2: It may be that the band with no name has a name! Barring final approval by the singer (who initially liked it but now seems to be wavering), there could well be music and a title by which to refer to said music.

Proof 3: I'm almost done with the insane workpile that I've been digging through for the last seeming eternity. One last hurdle: figuring out just how to get Flash to force download an MP3. Any suggestions?

D.

Running Up That Hill

Hulu Night Live

Yesenia and I are probably just bedding and finding something to watch online, tonight. How's that for being married? I sometimes feel like Chet Leeway...

D.

Private Panic

Perhaps in advance of the stock market crash of 2008, my G5 decided to go legs up, today. Which is bad, because the G5 is the work computer and I seemingly still have a nearly endless supply of the stuff to get through. I had been acting funny and then funnier for the last couple of weeks, and then today at around 2 PM: zetz. Wouldn't even turn on, just pulsed its starting light for a little while, and then the fans got really, really loud. The G5 has about 18 fucking fans, so I'm surprised the thing didn't start hovering off the floor with all that whirring overdrive.

A closer look revealed that the light was actually pulsing in sequence, which meant (according to the online support center) that the computer wasn't recognizing the new RAM I'd installed. Which is great, except there hasn't been any RAM installed in this computer since it left Cupertino in Autumn of 2003, so I got confused, and sad. Still, I dutifully opened the case and pulled out one RAM card - but I realized it would be a fruitless endeavor and shunted it back in.

A quick - very quick - call to Karl (who'd had some other suggestions earlier as to the problem) told me that it wasn't fruitless, after all. His suggestion: the contacts were dirty, so pull out both RAM cards, put them back, and everything would be just fine.

And you know, it was? I'm writing this on the G5, now. Still, I definitely want to back up the big file I'm working on to the Manputer, just to be on the safe side. Sure, the G5 is only five years old, but that's something like 926 in computer years.

D.

Acoustic Sketch

Brung my guitar with me up to ME, because, really, what's a cabin in the woods without a hootenanny? Unfortunately, we don't have video of a rather neat uptempo version of Blackbird that featured me on my crappy old Ovation and Putnam on his 5-string antique heirloom banjo, but I did get Yesenia to make a quick recording of the song that I started writing right after.

Looking at this later, I thought, "Well, I look kind of sexy." Which is probably the first time I've ever thought that. Don't laugh.

Take note of the eyebrow raise at 00:31, when I throw an E-minor after the E-major. That's some hardcore, real-time songwriting action for all you sports fans out there. Of course, the E-major to E-minor change actually sucks, in retrospect, but there's always the guarded but optimistic moment of consideration when you first try something on. Does this chord change make me look fat? Yes, it does.

D.

NSFW

Finally decompressing at roughly the halfway point of my giant workpile. Which probably isn't the time to relax, but at this point, it's either relax or explode, and I choose the former.

Yesenia and I, in sort of a rain check anniversary event, had dinner at the Upper West Side vegan restaurant 'Candle 79.' I'd been to their lunch café before, so I knew what to expect. Dinner was good, but when dessert turned out to be soy milk ice cream, we opted to go find a coffee place to get real dessert. In this case, a sour apple tart (her) and a slice of chocolate mousse cake (him).

Then, on the way back up to the car, we stopped in a bagelry on a sudden uncontrollable need for something solid and carb-y. The dessert for dessert turned out to be an untoasted, buttered everything bagel, of the kind that they only do right in New York.

We officially closed out anniversary season 2008 splitting the bagel in the car, driving up 1st Avenue, bonding over our love of comfort foods. Is there anything more romantic?

D.

BTW: I keep forgetting - over at Walrus Comix, you can find about half an hour of me, with Ansley, Bran, Bubba and Fiona, with some genuinely entertaining party chatter. The "NSFW" of this Rambler's title refers to the copious swearing, so you might want to put on headphones if you're at the office. I'm a little embarrassed by how much my vocal inflections have been influenced by Patton Oswalt, lately. Apologies to Mr. Oswalt.

My Aching Trackpad Hand

Here's the music magazine comic. The coloring took waaaaaay longer than I'd intended. And now, I have to go put together a new client presentation. That I have to drop off at my boss's house before class tomorrow morning. Which is at 7:30 AM. And it's 11 PM now. Good God.

D.

Don't it Make My Hazel Eyes Beige

Back from the North Country. Actually, back on Saturday, early evening, but had my head up my ass for the last two days. The overhang of work-stress dogged me throughout the trip, which was no fun, so I kind of tanked the anniversary trip for Yesenia. Still, Maine in the Fall is the dictionary definition of 'lovely,' and spending time with Yesenia, no matter how compromised by outside pressures, is always the best time of my life.

There are photos on Yesenia's Facebook page, for those of you who friended her.

BTW: There's probably a few more days of spotty Rambling in the works. Apologies for the big stretch of something/nothing. The mound, she is slowly going away.

D.

Eight Years High

Although Heaven and Earth (with some help from Hell and High Water) seemed to conspire to prevent us from doing so, Yesenia and I finally were able to get out and on the road to enjoy our eighth anniversary. And I note that for all those choosing to get married this time of year (pay close attention, Christine, for this is your future) that for some reason, Autumn always seems to bring the suck, as if to just try and ruin your happy occasion.

But we are stronger than that.

Anyway, here we are for the night at the loverly Silver Fountain Inn, in Dover, NH. And Yesenia is just out of the tub, so I'm signing off. Enjoy your non-anniversary-ness, people.

D.

Seasoning the Witch

Hallowe'en, as it turns out, it Yesenia's favorite holiday. So, even though she always does a great job decorating for Christmas, the house always seems extra-cool heading into Fall. Maybe that's because Beadboard Manor is an Autumnal kind of house? Browns, yellows and reds make up the color scheme to begin with, so all Yesenia has to do is add a pumpkin and a candle and we're good to go.

I think we all like Hallowe'en around here.

D.

On the March

Wow, do I have a lot to do on Sunday. Study for my midterm, complete my physics labs, do comp sketches for KPMG (the second of two), build the navigation for a client web site, design sell-sheets for a new client that makes (no shit) armor for vehicles. Somewhere in there, I also need to start on the final for the music magazine comic, set up my office, and really play catch up on my (virtual) math class, which I've really fallen behind on with the insane amount of work I've had to do for another client in the last weeks - which really shows no sign of abating.

Plus, kind of brained-out, since the twins were over and we spent a couple of hours recording what may be an upcoming Fly on the Wall segment for their site.

So, not in a writing mood.

D.

On Account of...

Thankfully, things will never get so bad that they'll have to cancel the internet. But if the market keeps falling back towards early 90's levels, don't be surprised to find that every web browser has been replaced with Mosaic.

D.

Borscht Belt

Tripped up to Middletown, CT, today, to put my hard-won Flash skills to use revamping the website of my college friend, Kate. She and her husband Noah live in an oldish farmhouse - well, I think it may have started life as such, but the farm is long gone. It's been almost a decade since my last visit, and the place has seen some revamping of its own in that time. Kate's father is one of those guys who buys properties, fixes them up, and then sells them, and Kate and her siblings inherited that trait.

In fact, the house is the one that Kate's father grew up in - much as Beadboard Manor is the ancestral Kopperman home.

Upon arrival, it was time to break my fast. Actually, it was about two hours past time to break my fast, since I got out of the house much later than I wanted - stupid, stupid work stuff - and got on the road just in time to hit rush hour traffic on both the Tappan Zee and the Merritt. This lateness was then compounded by a lack of clarity in my Google directions, sending me about five miles in the wrong direction off the exit. Still, as anyone who has ever fasted (like a day is much of a fast?) can tell you, after a point, you're not really hungry. I'm sure that you get really hungry a certain time after that point, but I doubt I've ever gone more than 26 hours without eating in my life, so I wouldn't know.

But I digress. Dinner was, as it turns out, homemade borscht. I think I may have had borscht one time before in my life, and that was when I was ten, visiting a colleague of my father's who had emigrated from the Soviet Union. That episode did not leave me with good feelings for borscht - maybe because it was served cold and I was uncomfortable, but most likely because I was ten and hated all things that weren't pizza or Cheerios. Tonight's borscht was good, served hot, and with a dollop of yogurt. Plus, there was buttered toast, which is never a bad thing.

Anyway, I have to do some sketching tonight for the next KPMG strip, so let's call this Rambler rambled. Have a good Friday.

D.

The Thicket of It

Even though I've been working like crazy, and have to get up at 6:30 for class, here we are at 1 AM and I can't sleep. Which means, in the words of Jemaine Clement, 'conditions are perfect.' Of course, he was talking about weekly marriage sex, and I'm referring to a half-assed Rambler, but the idea is the same: trying to fake something that really requires your full presence.

Sorry about the last few days. Been a lot on my plate and a lot on my mind, and not the good kind of stuff on plate and mind that makes for frothy thoughts that must be shared with the world at large (the .000000001% of it that reads the Rambler). Rather, lame, creativity sapping musings about things well beyond my power to control or understand, occasionally broken up by an episode of Stacked on Hulu.

Various titles for Ramblers have been floating through my mind over the last couple of days, and since I never wrote them, I've mostly forgotten them. I guess I'll present the only one that I can recall, here, before I forget it, as well - The Eternal Pants-Shitting Moment. That one has been sticking in my head like the chorus to a Glen Ballard song. Something you don't want to hear but just keeps hanging around.

Anyway, here's something that entertained me. Stick with it - the chair pinning event and Kristen Wiig's little dance are bits of comic gold.



D.

Bottleneck

And then suddenly, all of the work, all at once, all due right away. So let this be fair warning: I suspect that the Ramblers of the next few days will take the hit. Apologies in advance.

Consider this entry letdown #1.

D.

Much, Much Better than Expected

I daresay that this is certainly the best Bond theme since A View to a Kill, and possibly even the best since The Spy Who Loved Me. Surprisingly good showing from these two.

Actually, all that sounds like I'm damning it with faint praise. In fact, I think it's a really good song.

High-res version here.

D.

Eyes W/Out Face Seeks Same

What? I don't know. But I dare someone to place that as a personal ad and see who - or what - responds.

D.