∑ilage

Vegas. I went there. It kinda sucked.

Ok, so maybe that's too simplistic. I loved the lights, the cool buildings, the illusion of being in a higher class than what i really occupy, the casinos, and the weather.

I hated the slums, the constant noise of slot machines, the boldfaced exploitation of the poor communities around the casinos, the blue faced and desperate people in front of the slot machines, and the dry air that made my lips crack into a million pieces.

Admittedly though, being able to drink a beer in the car is pretty sweet too.

But what really threw me for a loop about las vegas was Casesar's Palace.

Look, here's the caesar they got waiting for you when you walk in the door.


Look familiar? If you guessed Augustus, you are correct! Why, this is a replica of the Augustus of Prima Porta, created to celebrate Augustus' sea victory over his rivals in order to secure his power as emperor in 27 B.C.

Augustus pretty much ran his empire on a family values-type campaign. Everyone had to worship the gods properly, no excessive venery or whoring (and yes earv, there is a such thing), and families had to be traditional, pious, and orderly.

So my first reaction is: why the fuck is this guy in front of a casino? Shouldn't gambling be exactly what Augustus was against? What a strange irony.

Turns out, that's only true if you equate today's insane family values people with ancient Rome's insane family values people (or maybe both are just hypocrites) For Augustus, gambling was ok. So much in fact that he did it himself.

Augustus was a slave to gambling and did it an awful lot. This was before the days of the colliseum, mind you, so gambling probably involved betting games like "how many tits are on this she-wolf" and "dungeon dice," but the fact remains that the ole guy was all Charles Barkley about games of chance.

Turns out though, one of Augustus' favorite passtimes was dice. I can just imagine some old roman dude pitching the ole bones into a cardboard box. Hooray.

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So these are definitely worth the 5 bucks it costs to get them. I'm already dreaming of ways to use them. I know i could make them myself, but i really want to give money to whoever thought of this wonderful idea.

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i would look like this. this one is not shaven, and it's ready to play ultimtate frisbee. it's also swarthy. i couldn't photoshop in the sweat stains on the visor to do it justice, or the flies buzzing around my unwashed shorts. oh well.

check this site to make your own branded candy identity. it's super fun!

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...at least she's all mine.

That's right all you technodorks with your nintendo DS systems and Xboxes and shit, eat your rotten little hearts out. This here's a genuine fuckin Atari 2600 "video computer system."

Instead of playing with a fake dog or flirting with sim-animals, I dilligently protect the world from communist warheads in "Missile Command." Sure the missiles all look alike, sure the Atari version of nuclear war is no more disturbing than a fart; it's a well put together game that gets better with age. Can YOU beat my score of 25,130? I didn't think so.

Likewise with "Pitfall" the classic platform action series dedicated to helping the great white explorer find riches in the jungle. Strangely, he never runs into any people who actually live there... Frustrating, primitive, but completely addictive. I cannot stop playing this game whenever my housemates aren't watching postfeminist dramas or Dr. shows.

My point is this dudes: the Atari is a lost treasure. And now i have one (thanks christopher, for this most generous birthday gift). Which means now, come to think of it, i have treasure. I know all of you will be lining up to be playing it with me soon. Just make sure to check your new stuff at the door and then we'll all have a grand ole time.

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Here are some photos of me and my nephew. He is very bright and a quick study. Here, he masters the slovenly art of eating directly from the whipped cream can in about 10 seconds.

I'm sure there are all kinds of bad consequences that will come with this new skill, but i'm proud to own up to teaching him anyway.

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To whom it may concern:

unfortuneately i must report a vioation of ethics on my campus. Terra Walston, an employee of the English department at the university of Illinois, has shown herself unable to reason through ethical problems relating to complimentary gifts and free merchandise. Naively, she stateed out loud "couldn't you accept a product for free if you were to write an evaluation of that product?" I believe this was covered on the 3rd portion of the ethics exam that all state employees were required to take. I also believe she is firmly in the wrong.

As someone who has failed her ethics test in practice, she has fallen below the acceptable metric for "good" behavior. she is clearly a threat to state security, nay, state sanity, and i recommend that her mind be destroyed, though her body may remain intact for the purposes of pro bono medical experiments. I'm sorry to report such a tragic event, but hopefully we can all work together to turn a "minus" into a "plus."

in righteousness,

Michael Simeone

Ph. D Student and Instructor
English, Film, and Media
University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign

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A long time ago, i was at the little rock airport dropping my brother off for a flight he had to take. When i returned to my car (88 cadillac sedan deville), it was clear that someone had broken into my dear ghettolac. the rear right door was left open and my stuff had obviously been rifled through. But nothing had been taken. Not even my old polar fleece jacket, not even my cds.

it dawned on me then that i need not fear theft, because i had nothing valuable to steal. i was comforted by this zen-like emptiness reminiscent of winston the cat.

today, i noticed that my bike had been stolen off my porch. It was just gone. When i walked out to the place where it used to be though, i noticed 100 feet to my right that my bike was crashed on the ground in front of the neighbor's house.

you see, my bike did not have a functioning chain, had two flat tires, and no machinery to bring about any kind of gear change (it disassembled itself and tumbled into the street this spring). so the would-be theif probably stumbled and cursed for about 30 meters before giving up and throwing my bike into the mud.

so i walked over to my poor baby, picked it up, carried it home, and hooked it back up to my porch. it will now continue in its role of letting me look at it and think about fixing it, as well as getting rained and snowed on.

hooray for me! i just hope i never have children.

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"My dear penguins, we stand upon a great threshold! It's alright to be scared; most of you won't be coming back. But, thanks to Batman, the time has come to punish ALL of God's children!"

-The Penguin, (Batman Returns, 1992)

It's all true. It's all so fucking true.

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this is a "pull my finger santa."

it in many ways resembles my father.

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So here they are, my favorite pictures that i've taken with my cameraphone this year. I kinda use it as a diary of sorts. Most of them are taken from my car while driving, or just cause, and they are pretty poor quality, but I do it cuz i like it. I guess i also use it because i'm a total dork.

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Look, we should all just admit it. I know Clipse, J.T., Joanna Newsom, Tom Waits and others have put out good albums that made them critic darlings, but that doesn't change the depressing fact that 2006 was just a weak year overall for new music.

Like a lot of you, I am also tired of synth driven "rock" like Postal Service. That doesn't mean it's not good though, and i certainly don't agree that it's "lethargic." It's just really worn out and has lost some of its innovative appeal. Unless you just want to say that it's all just gussied up 80s music. Which i guess would be fair. Huey Lewis and the News anyone?

Anyways, not much new stuff this year that i liked a lot. Decemberists new album was nice, and even beautiful, but it's still part of a now familiar formula from those guys. Acclaimed albums like Destroyer's Rubies were really just obnoxious and hard to follow, and had me itching to pitch my plastic frames into the trash. Shit, when the title song for snakes on a plane gets top 40 time, you know we're desperate.

So here's my recommendation: Arctic Monkeys: Whatever people say i am, tha'ts what i'm not"

This album rocks.

Pros:

1) It's british so all the lyrics sound cool even when they're not
2) It includes guitars
3) Not afraid to occasionally sacrifice pretty harmony (overrated) for kick-ass chord crunching, downright shouting, and drum bashing.
4) Catchy on the first listen, but later tracks reward continued attention.
5) Hates on San Fransisco hipsters
6) Sounds exhilirating in the car at high volume whilst driving

Cons:

1) I think i heard "fake tales of san fransisco" (track 2 or 3) playing from the Gap in the local shopping mall while i was christmas shopping. Probably included on some maxim 06 mix or a Hollister complimentary CD. Can't count that against the album too much though, considering that the same Gap audience simply could not handle ugly later tracks like "from the ritz to rubble" or "perphas vamppires is a bit strong." Unless of course your one of those emo, skater, or hispster dicks that won't listen to music just because you didn't hear it in your garage or someone bought the rights to it. If so, go survey the average lifestyle of a musician with no commercial love and tell me what you think. Then go blow a rhino and choke on the darkened fluid that comes out. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people like that?

2) Only 13 tracks long.

3) Not the Arcade Fire.

happy listening

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So, knowing that a substance like dimethylmercury exists means i will never feel safe again. It vaporizes almost instantly, is deadly poisonous, and if you smell it then it means you've already been exposed to too much. by the way, it works its way through protective lab equipment too.

Sweet Dreams

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A feature story from 1924 that detailed plans to train chimpanzees to talk, walk, and act like homo sapiens in a French "Monkey College." Diabolical I say! (citation goes to Donna Haraway for digging this one up)

Click the pic for a much larger photo where you can even make out some of the poorly reproduced copy.

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Meet the Mavs! They're everyone's favorite Western Conference Contender! They have Dirk Nowitski, the NBA's best 7 foot jump shooter! They have Mark Cuban, a free styling business "maverick" if there ever was one! They have the second best record in the West at 14-6! Go Mavs!

All of the exclamation points are just a way of thinly concealing my seething hatred for the Dallas Mavericks, of course. I just can't stand their brand of "small ball," "uptempo," and "breakneck" basketball.

When Phoenix does this kind of basketball, it works; several shooters get open on the floor because they outrun their defenders, active playmakers dribble penetrate the defense, and athletic and talented bigs are leaping to the rim for dunks, ally-oops, and lay-ups. Rebounding and defense don't matter to the system because it's small, fast, and scores a lot. Did i mention it's a joy to watch?

The Mavs wish they could do this. The Suns have Steve Nash. He's a god among point guards and a brilliant play maker. The Mavs have fucking Jason Terry and Devin Harris. They suck crusty old jock strap. They look like a cat on LSD when they flop to the basket. Earlier this year when the Mavs saw the nets, i saw Devin Harris dribble, pop the ball in the air and hold his hands out as to say "i don't have possession anymore," then--no shit--he picks the ball up and starts dribbling again thinking that he could outsmart the double dribble/travel rules. What a fool. This batch craplickers only approximate small ball, and here's how a typical game breaks down:

Terry and Harris hurl themselves at the basket, take advantage of new league contact rules, and draw a bunch of shooting fouls. They couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with their shots, but it doesn't matter. They go to the line. Then, Nowitski takes pot shots at the rim til he gets on the board (and no one can guard this coward because he's 7 feet tall, so he gets any jump shot he wants), then he throws himself at the rim like his two buddies. Eric Dampier stands around and gets upset because he's doesn't feel like part of the defense, then wheezes up and down the floor because his father was probably an ogre. On the sidelines, Mark Cuban is busy hitting on a 13 year old jr. high cheerleader and snorting coke out of an airline courtesy bag.

The results are pretty ridiculous--a team that goes to the line all the time, killing the pace of the game and filling up the other team with personal fouls. Don't forget their annoying owner who won't leave the referees alone. bo-ring!

We should now be reminded that i can't play basketball to save my life. But as a fan that knows a little more than jack squat, this shit irritates the hell out of me.

In the first quarter of tonights Jazz-Mavs game, midway through the first half, the jazz shot only 6 free throws, while the mavs had shot 20. The game was reasonable then. As soon as Utah starts evening out in its FT attempts, the game gets blown open to a 20+ point game in the Jazz's favor.

Their field goal percentage was 37 percent, and they shot 15 percent from the 3 point line.

What a joke, and they almost won the championship last year, except Dwayne Wade used the same strategy against them and wins. I guess i would think that would be poetic justice if i weren't busy trying to separate my head from my neck out of rage because the whole thing is just so fucking stupid. Also, these hijinx rake in millions of dollars.

I know i'm not the only one who hates the mavs. I know you're out there. Chime in with some of your own hate or statistics-based loathing.

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Joel posted this recent article by one of my favorites, Mike Davis. It's about Dubai, the growing consumerist-capitalist-utopian city (arcology?) along the coast of the Persian Gulf. His blog comments weren't working, so i decided to post my response here.

My summary of the article is as follows:

so, lemme get this straight:

phase 1. consolodating the world's resources into supporting a multi-trillion dollar pleasure palace designed for the richest people alive. check.

phase 2. taxing the ecosystem at a baroque scale just to satisfy some fucked up principle of the best. check

phase 3. clearing the region of hostile
forces so that building can continue. check

phase 4. live it up on top of the dying heap of the world as it chokes itself to death because it has no more fuel (oops, who knew it'd run out?). check

phase 5. eat a big fucking breakfast.



i love the way that science fiction, "imagineering," and speculation are now a way to cover up the fact that some shit, like, o i don't know, a mile high building or an underwater hotel, is just stupid and wasteful.
Some people have got this weird hang up where dreams must become a reality, science fiction must become real life. Then, in turn, real life becomes locked into and reaffirms a particular track of development and imagination which remains utopian for some and dystopian for everyone else.

It's chilling (and a bit cliche i guess) to think of Dubai as the equivalent of Sumerian Ziggurats and Egyptian pyramids, in their construction, maniacal purpose,
and the fact that people will be digging them up 1000 years from now wondering what the fuck we were thinking.

Some fantasies should just stay fantasies, like shitting on someone you hate or having sex with someone dressed in a big furry mascot costume. It might be less ambitious, but it would be a lot better than what we got now: a small group of decadent crazies tautologically chasing their imaginations towards a big fat doomsday.

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It's the worst disease ever! Well, it's no polio, black death, or exposure to polonium 210, but it sure does feel bad, and here's why:

1) No appetite. At all. Stomach Flu takes that away. You didn't need it anyhow.

2) Suddenly your, um, "reverse appetite" becomes ravenous. Stomach Flu makes sure that you just can't stop gushing fluids. Particularities of which hole gets to leak do not matter to Stomach Flu.

3) Regular gastrointestinal habits and normal appetite do not return until about 1 to 2 weeks after the major symptoms of Stomach Flu have passed.

4) The virus is spread most often because someone didn't wash their hands enough after stooling or puking all over the place. In fact, most people do not properly wash their hands. You have to wash under your fingernails, between fingers, etc., for 20 seconds. That's right, 20 seconds. This fourth point leads me to my fifth and worst point:

5) having stomach flu means you ingested a (small, or even miniscule) amount of someone else's feces.

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i'm hoping to sell this image to hallmark or whoever puts out those "hang in there" posters we all remember from our elementary school libararies (you know, a kitten hanging by one paw, or a kitten in a boot). Don't forget to click the pic!

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ok so its lame that i'm advocating an album of a band i just saw. too bad. this album, "it still moves," is really great, and seems to slip through the cracks as some folks pay more attention to "at dawn" and "z."

"just one thing" and "one big holiday" are both outstanding tracks. and just like the Drive By Truckers "The Dirty South," this album is best enjoyed at full, full volume.

O yeah, and did i mention there's a gorgeous blinged out grizzly bear on the album cover? that should be enough as is. paging timothy treadwell...

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it's 7:48, and the air outside is so cold that by licking your lips, you can get them to freeze a little bit.

i've been told by some people that the best strategy for keeping warm is to simply "give up." Give up on being warm, give up on the idea you have about feeling your extremities, just focus on what you have instead of what the cold takes away. Seems effective.

Fun cold time activities enjoyed by me:

pin the tail on your nose (fuck it, you can't feel the tack anyways)

indoor soccer

maniacally checking the standings for fantasy basketball on nba.com

running, then searching for where my dick went after it freezes off.

reading one of the many, many books i have to get done for my exams next year.

halasana (plow position in yoga, basically you fold your body in half and it feels good)

pocket pool

eating "tasty bite" pre-made low preservative indian kosher meals that you mix from a foil pouch (yum muthafuckin' yum).

wondering what life would be like in arizona

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