My wife just appeared in my "People You May Know!" list. Thanks, MySpace, for always being ahead of the curve.

I'm looking forward to the addition of a "Breaking News" list which contains, among other stories, "Water is Wet." and "The Sky is Blue."

Like many of you, I have been driven crazy by the glut of snow and ice that currently blankets Portland. It has caused the cancellation of several parties and get-togethers; been responsible for numerous flight and travel problems; made shopping difficult for us (ahem) procrastinators; and, perhaps most aggravatingly, has spawned massively sensationalized media coverage, populated by news anchors whose determination to weather the storm would be admirable if they're weren't so fucking annoying.

All of this has caused me to hate the snow, when, in fact, I shouldn't. I should FEAR it. The Arctic Blast is a force. It is survival of the fittest. It is, in two words, fucking METAL.

And that is why it needs to have a heavy metal theme song. And seeing as how no one else was going to write one, I decided to do so. Note: this is a testament to what can be accomplished when you possess a lot of alcohol, a little bit of recording equipment, and no ability to go anywhere.

Click the one link in the playlist below and this testament to winter apocalypse should start playing. You'll know it's going when you hear the sound of me ripping off Deep Purple launch forth from your speakers.

So, I received this either yesterday or today:



Like most people, I've grown tired of the constant media focus around this woefully overmatched VP candidate. However, the Freudian slip at the end of this clip should at the very least remind people of what such a choice could lead to.

On the plus side, however, the woman directly behind Palin makes a great face the moment she hears the slip. Fortunately, due to my impressive computer skills and my strong understanding of people, I can isolate this frame and give you insight into exactly what's going through her mind:

I arrived at work today and prepared to engage in my typical morning routine. Step 1: Put lunch in fridge. Step 2: Brew Coffee. Step 3: wait nervously until step 2 completes. Step 4...well, you get the idea.

I opened our fridge, and this is what I saw:



It occurred to me that this moment sums up exactly why Concrete is an excellent place to work. Let me put it out there for you:



Reason 1? An abundance of beer.

Reason 2? An abundance of humor. No, for the confused amongst us, we aren't PETA-hating, raw-animal-eating nutjobs. We are, however, irony-loving, hipster-leaning, Arrested-Development-watching nerds.



(Note: I did not open the bag.)

Rob sent this to me. I send it to you! Here's how you play: Once you've been tagged, write a blog with 10 weird, random things, facts or habits about yourself. At the end, you choose 10 people to be tagged, listing their names, and why you chose them to be tagged. Don't forget to leave them a comment "You're It" and to read your blog. You can't tag the person who tagged you........


10. Aside from brief sojourns into Canada, I have never left the United States. This saddens me.

9. Thanks to the Boiler Room's horror nights I no longer have any desire to 1) visit a small European community and stay in a hostel, 2) go spelunking, or 3) hang out with Kiefer Sutherland.

8. While bored and thinking about #9, I learned that a studio has green-lit "The Lost Boys 2," which will - according to Wikipedia - "focus on a band of surfing vampires." I am not making this up.

7. With some rare exceptions, I find most "indie rock" unlistenable.

6. I am supposed to be proofreading a friend's dissertation - but I haven't started yet (Sorry Jack!)

5. I excel at playing the drums in all ways except basic time-keeping – which is fairly messed up.

4. I really have no desire to ever engage in space tourism.

3. Amy is (almost) in Las Vegas; the part of me that's thankful I'm not there and the part of me that's jealous are currently battling for supremacy.

2. I am trying to try to train for the Portland marathon. It isn't going particularly well.

1. I have put way, way more thought into this random list than anyone should.

Apparently, the key to getting *something* done in life is to never formally announce your intent to pursue it. To do otherwise is to risk swift and brutal karmic retaliation.

Case in point: the Portland marathon. About a month ago I, well, half-announced my intent to pursue this goal to my family. No problem, I thought: I'm already running around 24 to 26 miles a week, which they say is a good start for training. I'll just keep at it, start running outside in the coming months, and work in solid, sustainable chunks.

Heh, if only it could be that easy. About a week after this semi-formal declaration was made, we came down with the flu. Actually, scratch that. We came down with fucking influenza. (It sounds more exotic that way – and I think it's more accurate; this thing was mean.) At certain points we both thought the end was near; if it wasn't the virus that was going to do us in, it would be the isolation (and the inevitable funkiness that was descending upon our apartment.)

Somehow, we survived. A couple weeks go by, and I've resumed running, and feeling generally okay – this, in spite of the many, many sick people I know in my life (seriously, for a mostly healthy person who wants to stay that way, this winter in Portland has been like navigating a minefield.) Finally, we're back on track, right? Right.

Oh wait. No we're not. Because over the weekend my body decides it'd be generally kickass to experience an acute sore throat, which seems to come and go without any warning or provocation. There are no other symptoms. And then, the coup de grace: last night, I got to experience the onset of the mother of all back spasms. I mean, really: how do you craft a back spasm that feels worse after a heating pad has been applied to it? That's just mean.

So I don't know what to do. I guess wait it out and pray, pray fervently. But I have some other ideas, too. I'm going to stop voicing anything positive that I want to engage in. Want to teach a class? Keep it to yourself. Want to run a marathon? Tell no one! Instead, I'm going to choose some stupid things I hate, and profess otherwise very, very loudly, hoping that the universe deals with them quickly and with extreme prejudice.

For a brief time, my father was a professor, and my mother was a teacher. Amy is a teacher; some very good friends are teachers. Perhaps this is why I find very few common phrases more insulting (and inaccurate) than that old standby, "those who can, do - those who can't, teach."

What a load of happy horseshit.

Teaching - good teaching - is among the most important professions there is. Yeah, I'm not really saying anything that hasn't been said before, but I am qualifying teaching with "good." Why? I'm sure all of us have had teachers and professors who've dropped the ball, brought little or nothing worthwhile to their particular course or classroom, and generally validated that tired assumption. But you know what? That particular flaw - inadequacy - is not unique to the teaching profession. I'm sure as many (or more) of us who've had a poor experience with a teacher or professor have felt similarly about clergy, significant others, landlords, politicians, mechanics, parents, children, and generally other people in our lives. But we don't go around bad-mouthing these entire subgroups (well, perhaps politicians, but few could argue that they don't generally deserve it.) Why is that?

I think, deep down, it's because we've been convinced that we're always right, and we're scared to admit that we don't know everything about every goddamn thing. If we can easily and safely marginalize someone as "just my kid's teacher" or "some ivory-tower egghead," it makes it easier for us.

I start teaching a 24-hour, 8-week course next Tuesday. Actually, while the course is scheduled it may not actually take place, due to low enrollment. And you want to a dirty little secret about that? Part of me - a small, but not wholly insignificant part - hopes the course gets cancelled or moved.

Why? Oh, the typical reasons - it'll require lots of work, lots of preparation, and lots of talking in front of complete strangers. But in reality I think I don't want to get up in front of a group of people who hold me as an authority, and let them down, whether its through lack of planning, lack of teaching skill, or lack of communication (Fortunately, my course is in a rather esoteric field in computer applications, so the instructors with whom I'm actively competing and to whom I'm comparing myself typically have the personality of a basket of hammers, so on this last point I'll probably be all right.)

At any rate - any teachers reading this, keep your chin up when the world makes you feel devalued. I'm incredibly impressed with the things you do on a regular basis. All right, I'm done. I'll return to my irregularly scheduled rants on fitness and night life at some point in the future.

So, I was digging around the old computer last night (and thinking about how I said I wanted to start a band) and I stumbled upon some songs from just exactly such an endeavor.

These were done in 2000, while I was at the University of Oregon. I played vibraslap, my friend Andrew played buckets, and my friend Cory played harmonica. Ok, those are lies. We all played harmonica. WARNING! They are incredibly stupid. The links link directly to MP3s.

Duck Call MegaMix
Probably our crowning achievement. Back before the web was popular, UO students had to spend several tortuous hours on the phone every term, calling an automated line for class registration. These sessions frequently ended in frustration, with the student unable to register for certain classes, the system screwing up, and general frustration as the result. In our parody, a typical call to Duck Call goes awry, and the system even calls back to deliver further bad news. Thankfully (and perhaps due to our hilarious send-up) Duck Call was retired the next year.

(Oh, and special thanks to Mandy - I can't remember her last name - for allowing us to use the instance of the Duck Call robot voice saying her 0.00 term GPA. Heh...not the best term, huh?)

Any UO alums remember this shit?

Anyway.

All Up in Yo Grill
Automated voices (one of whom is gangsta Steven Hawking, recognize!) talk shit to each other over rocking beats. Hilarity ensures.

Dance Activity
This was brought about primarily because of the opening sample, which originally aired on MTV2 - this ridiculous girl talked about how she really liked to dance. Resulting from this inspiration is a dance song of excruciating length. Stick around though - some of those samples are worth it. (Have you ever heard He-Man: Masters of the Universe sampled in anything?)

Anyway, sorry for the rampant stupidity.

I find it's important to make lists, in order to get things done. This works on a daily or weekly basis - why not on a yearly one? Not that I've ever done this, before - I haven't, and I think that's probably why most years go by and I find I've actually accomplished very little. That's all going to change in the '07.

Oh, yeah, before we get started, "the '07" is the hip phrase I've coined (as of, I don't know, five minutes ago?) to represent, well, 2007. In the '07, I've got dibs on all the neologisms. See how easy it is? Anyway, with that out of the way, here are some things that might occur (along with their probability)

In the '07, I will...

Coin some assinine phrase and hope to get people to start using it: 100%

Write a blog entry while at work: 100%

Teach a class: 98% (Hey, check it out! I'm gonna teach a class!)

Teach a class that more than 2% of people care about or can afford: 30%

Get an ulcer from teaching a class: 75%

Buy a house: 60%

Hate the process of buying a house: 80%

Take a trip off of this continent: 60% (and therefore...)

Hyperventilate while on a plane: 60%

Visit Las Vegas: 60%

Love, then hate Las Vegas: 60%

Karaoke a song by Michelle Branch: 50%

Get a band together - and by band, I mean a group of like-minded musicians who either 1) play at least -1- show in the next 12 months, or b) put out some bit of recorded music in the same amount of time. 60% (Anyone want to help? I play a pretty mean melodica)

Replace my perfectly capable Sony Ericsson phone with an Apple iPhone at the earliest possible opportunity, knowing full well that I don't need most of its functionality, that it will likely decrease in price by at least 33% within six months, and that I have a greater abundance of disposable income than sense: 60%

Get "Golden Years" by David Bowie out of my head for longer than six fucking hours: 10%

Eat healthier: 20%

Try to eat healthier: 50%

Drink less: 20%

Try to drink less: 10%

Try to try to drink less: 50%

Be funny: 40%

Scrap, or at least postpone, my novel: 80%

Start a new novel! 70%

Finish a novel: 5%

Check MySpace less frequently than several hundred times per day: 2%

Say something stupid: 0%

Restyle myself as a writer, replacing my bloviating, longwinded prose with tight sentences typically no longer than five words in length: 0% ;-)

What do you think you'll get done this year?

So, I'm not a huge horror film guy. I'm a bit squeamish, scare easily, and stuff sticks with me far too long. I slept with the light on after seeing the Blair Witch Project in the theater. Yeah, ok - I'm a big, stupid, wussy weak baby. Are you happy? I will never see the Ring. I will never see the Grudge. I will never see the myriad low-budget torturetrons that stock the shelves at the nearby Blockbuster. I will never see Saw, and I will never see Saw 2. I will never see Audition (although kudos to the filmmaker for filming a scene in which some hot Asian girl forces some poor bastard to drink dog vomit - and kudos to the actress, who was the one who actually vomited! You just can't make that shit up. Jesus, haven't these people heard of acting?)

This being the case, my only exposure to some of the content of these movies must come from other sources, like IMDB, idiot friends, and Rolling Stone, in which I read about a specific scene in Saw 2, which affirms my feelings for horror films. Apparently, there is a scene in this film wherein some poor bastard must obtain a key, lest he or she be crushed to death by some fiendish device. There is, of course, a slight snag: the key has been implanted behind his or her eye; they must gouge out their own eye, in order to save themselves from something worse.

This is entertainment? Good God, it sounds, well, horrifying. Can you imagine anything more disgusting, painful or awful? What a choice.

I was ruminating on this yesterday, as "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime" was playing in a coffee shop, and I came to a profound conclusion: after McCartney's sung that chorus a few hundred times, complete with those ridiculous, out-of-time synthesizer stabs, removing one's own eyeball really doesn't sound so bad, and removing one's eardrums would be even better.

Of course, that got me thinking, and I realized that I'd probably rather take my changes with a lot of horror film situations than listen to most Christmas songs. "Blue Christmas" vs. the Blair Witch? I'd have to take the Blair Witch; all she made some dude do was sit in the corner; have you heard "Blue Christmas?" Holy Christ. There's more. What about facing a horde of zombies, or "Santa Claus is Coming to Town?" by Bruce Springsteen? No question: the zombies, by a mile. They're slow, and not the brightest creatures, and that song really, really stinks. "Santa Baby" by Everclear. Really? Everclear?! I'd rather go out to eat with Hannibal Lecter than sit through that. "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" by the Eurythmics vs. Mola Ram and the lava pit, from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. The crazy cult leader wins this one; yeah, he can pluck your heart from your chest, but that fucking song goes after my very soul.

I don't want to sound too grinchly, but seriously, the list of modern Christmas songs that aren't spectacularly, colossally awful can be counted on zero fingers. Actually, that's not true. There are some good, modern Christmas songs that, if you're lucky, you'll catch on the radio between endless repetitions of Whitney Houston's "Little Drummer Boy" and those dogs barking "Jingle Bells."

John Lennon: Happy Christmas (I'll probably get flak for this)
Elton John: Step into Christmas (He's Elton John, for chrissakes)
Jackson 5: Santa Claus is Coming to Town (Bruce Springsteen: no. Jackson 5? Yes.)

oh, and one more:

Marian Carey: All I Want for Christmas is You

Seriously - that Mariah Carey song is far above most other Christmas songs. It's in its own orbit. When that song comes on the radio it's enough to make one put down the gun, step away from the window, or take your head out of the noose. But one song can only do so much against a mighty army of schmaltz, shlock and crap. That's why I think I'll make this Christmas, an iPod Christmas.