Should college classes offer a class on drinking alcoholic beverages (for the lone drinker)? I'm sure the education system is aching to earn that little salary they always complain about for educating the drinker. Bartender school is probably not that much different. Back in middle school, I remember my health teacher touching on the subject. Mr Pollack said that bad thing about taking drugs is people develop a tolerance for them and so find the need to explore with newer, stronger drugs. For instance, pot might be fantastic the first few times a person smokes it, but the more he or she smokes, the more that person needs to feel high. That's when they start looking into mushrooms or whatever else there is out there. Rave.

Taxes from marijuana, the ad claims, could pay the salaries of 20,000 teachers.
Marijuana Ad: Pot Could Cure California's Budget Woes

I don't know about you, but I didn't grow up having a college buddies to drink with. I was all studius during those years. Before the age of 21, however, I did explore drinking with high school friends. That was more challenging because alcohol wasn't easily obtained. So, when I turned 21, I didn't know the first thing about walking into a bar and having a few drinks while keeping under consideration the drive home.

trange headlines in this weeks Newsweek magazine had me fumbling thru the text for insight. It had something to do with Jim Jones being a US security or defense advisor to Prez Obama. It was a weird headline, however, because it looked like this

Has Jim Jones lost his clout?I did a search on-line to read the same story, but I wasn't able to pull it up; instead, I found this 2006 article.

The picture above is a church here in Los Angeles. I don't think it is one that my parents ever took us to mass, but it does stick out when you pass it along the street. I rode the bus line that travels along this street for years when I would commute to USC for dental work on my crooked teeth, and this church was always a landmark I used to indicate how much further I needed to travel before requesting my stop. My mom had told me that it was the church belonging to the Jonestown massacre. I grew up believing that. I was probably too young to read about it in the newspapers when the trajedy occurred.

Don't you think it's weird that Obama has somebody handling national security going by the name of a religious leader who killed his followers? If anything, Newsweek is saying something too when they print a headline with the name in bright blood red. The corner of Alvarado and Hoover hold many memories for me. It was one block before the stop to my girlfriend's house who lived across the street from a cemetery. Heh… I feel like I invented goth.

I can't help notice Newsweek's description of the Peoples Temple as an organization getting it's start in Indiana and relocating to San Francisco. Wikipedia specifies that the headquarters had relocated to S.F., but there were many smaller congregation in California.

I had a double decker burger at Fosters for lunch today. I like to call in my order by phone (lunch time can be the rush hour of hunger). I wanted to try the fried mushrooms but the gal who took the call fubbed my order. It wasn't like I had a craving for fried mushrooms, anyway, but when I got there, the gal who was about to ring up my order took a precautionary moment to ask me if I was the guy who called in an order for a fish burger. It turns they didn't fubar the burger and I accepted the side of zucchini despite wanting mushrooms.

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A humongous stack of books arrived the other day. My job is link these new items with their corresponding bibliographic record on the computer system. In other words, slap a barcode on them so as to keep an accurate record of what it is we have in the collection of books, videos, CDs, mags, etc.

There are two computers for office related tasks allocated in the 'staff only' part of the building. Occasionally I find that they are occupied. I guess the majority of time that these 'puters in particular are in use is when a page is taking a break. We all love surfing the net.

Because I don't want to be the one to ask that they stop momentarily so I can do something work related, I seek out another computer station in another part of the building. It's a slight inconvenience, but within reason IMO since I don't usually have loads of stuff that need to be worked on the way I do now. However, now I'm trying to hash thru the hundreds of items that were recently unloaded on me (what fun!); so when I see an opportunity to link barcodes to their bib records, I do them in stacks of maybe about twenty.That means all the other minute details that are entailed in the preparation of materials for the loaning process is placed on hold. Rather, they sit on my desk as I get to them when I get to them. Geez, processing isn't the only thing I do at work, you know.

It's in this way that I can do my job without having to molest any of the 'puter users ( Read more... )

So here I am at the salt mines trying to get this entry done before 6 o'clock because I have some delusional idea that Ana Garcia reads all my entries just before she does the news. Heh-heh, there is a Santa Clause, Virginia. Hmm, did I just see Jean Reno's look-a-like?

the pleasure generated by a response to a gag is patterned on the male orgasm rather than the female.

Beaten to the punchline: Germaine Greer on women and comedy - Stage - The Guardian

I've been a real lazy dog these past couple of days… recovering from an aching back and soar muscles. A friend at work asked me if I wanted to have a kitten. Apparently, people must think I'm lonelier than an industry without a king.

You know what, I haven't said a single word about the late Michael Jackson. I really do feel sorry for that guy, but quite honestly, I never understood his songs, nor do I like them. I may have enjoyed them growing up, but I grew out of them pretty quickly.

How should a person cope over such a great loss for an industry that pretty much functions as the backbone of loud obnoxious music? Even as I speak, all I can do is reflect over the loss of such great radio stations as Indy 103.1 to supply side eco-friendly pop station. Everyone always has to pick on the head bangers, right. We lost KNAC back in the 70's, Pirate radio in the 80's (you know I'm guessing at these numbers). Now, only rich people can listen to metal. It's like the MTV days when music videos were beginning to flourish. Suddenly music videos are taken off of local network TV and placed into MTV.

I'm always one step behind. When I find that I have enough money to get Sirius radio, the phase of popularity in metal will be over. Next week: Kathy Griffin v. Lucille Ball

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So far, this movie season's most memorable flicks have been Hangover and The taking of Pelham 123, but there is something about middle eastern women, the way they wave a chador over their head, giving them a characteristic not unlike that of a dancing girl. Of course, one would have to have a vivid imagination, but that's always been something I've never lacked. Sexiness and a deep throat voice is all it takes to turn me on, sometimes, but in the movie The stoning of Soraya M., the story structure is simplistic and traditionally formed. It begins in the present time where the plot is told by the main character, Zahra. The set up is simple, Zahra roams around a desert field in search of something. When she finds what she may or may not have been searching for, the story begins. Because what is obviously of great value to her isn't revealed to us as an audience until she meets a traveling journalist, Freidoune, played by James Caviezel (Passion of the Crhist), who suffers an overheated engine in his travels thru town, every new scene sequence becomes an obstacle to decipher. Overly anxious to reach the border before morning for some unknown reason, it is the journalist's encounter with Zhara that moves the story forward.

Considering we pretty much know already how the movie is going to end, it's his expertise that attracts Zahra to seek out his interest. Zahra's strange note, tossed thru a window of a café where he bides his time while his car is at the mechanics, in turn, sparks his journalistic curiosity. Compared to The hangover, this movie about Iranian culture seems to be making quite an impression. My immediate reaction over the youtube vid which blatantly shows a woman dying after being shot by law enforcement officers after the Iranian post-election results was to juxtapose this sad news with that of biblical passages describing the stoning of Mary Magdalene; or this movie that just made its debut in Encino, Pasadena, Santa Monica and elsewhere. I enjoyed The hangover. It’s one of the few movies that can make me laugh. I was, however, completely disappointed after sitting thru Year one. I should’ve known by just realizing that Year one was PG13 that I would not've enjoyed it. Having grown up with Welcome back, Kotter TV, I started out as a Travolta fan until I developed a loathsome view of dance music. I still like Grease, but If I had to choose between the action packed The taking of Pelham 123 and Stoning of Soraya M., I would have to say that James Caviezel should be recognized with yet another edgy flick. The theatre in which I saw The stoning of… in was nearly packed (with senior citizens mostly, during the matinee showings). I was handed a survey in which I responded positively to most questions. When asked if I would recommend this movie to friends, for some reason I said “no”. Go figure? I guess I'm satisfied by you knowing this movie appeals to my taste in entertainment. True blood was really fun to watch this week too.

This morning I walked about four miles to the motorcycle shop to pick up my rental. I wore uncomfortable combat boots because I'm always thinking safety when I ride. I've been driving a 500(sum) pound bike for several hours and my legs are aching so bad. The breaks on the Harley are standard position and with my big feet, the stretch for braking and shifting have totally awakened some unused muscles on my leg.

I got home after lunch and peeled off my socks to discover three blisters had already burst. I cursed the air as I applied iodine tincture to my freshly exposed skin. Riding is fun, but I can see how some people might be willing to sacrifice safety for comfort when they have their brakes and shift gear customized for a laid back look.

I keep playing her death over and over in my mind. It's all I can do to quell any efforts to replay that death video.

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As soon as I heard one of the journalist ask the Prez during his news conference what his thoughts were on the video… so I'm thinking to myself, how bad can it be? Well, it's pretty sad to watch a person's soul leave her body and that's what the video is all about. There is no stop action footage of the impact the bullet takes on a bystander, just a woman collapsing in the arms of whomever happened to be there with her at the time.

I don't watch this thru peeping eyes. However, jumping into the shower to get ready for work, I find myself torn about this complete stranger for whom a poor woman is sacrificed for the sake of a profound political rally. Certainly, she was loved by many people; she wasn't bad looking at all. A target from a jealous former lover? I wonder how a gun wielding law enforcer chooses his victims.

It reminds me of a book I saw on display at BN Censoring an Iranian love story, something I'll never be able to get into. I require commercialization in my story structures. Perhaps if I were to relate the shooting incident with today's reality/game shows I could muster my way thru it. And will we see this footage on TV? Probably not. What about cable? Probably not. HBO? Not.

When I was little, I took comfort about my name being so similar to the first invention to the camera, d'aguerre-o-type. Now I take refuge over the fascination it's sound to Alighieri. It's that vivid imagination of mine that allows me to think this way. It is the paranoid schizophrenic way. The other day, I was stopped at a light and BOOM! somebody crashes into my car. When I ask why he did it, he says he had an important call to make on his cell. Likely story. I think it was thru vengeance that somebody close to an ex decided to teach me some manners.

Why do I think that? Well, the guy's name is middle eastern and that's where the war is currently. Sometimes I wonder if American's wouldn't realize that the invasion has already begun before it's too late.

Some of the cars I see on the street are worth more if they are demolished. That means, one might spend more on that car buying gas to commute to work and up keep maintenance than they would if they commuted by bus. If you keep that in mind, what's to stop haters from crashing into your car? Although this kind of thing is far from comparable to Neda's video, I have to wonder what exactly I'm so thankful for when I come home from work and comfortably sit on the sofa in the safety of my house to watch the news that won't even air the gory details of such a shocking revelation.¶¶¶

Ironic that the one time I find something interesting to post here on lj (with a widget specifically designed to automate the clipping portions of sites onto my blog), it isn't working. So, who is Aleister Crowley? I heard mention of him on the radio this morning and I'm feeling somewhat like an insider now that I've found some live blogging material to read up on and stuff.

I guess it's a rumor, but it seems to be a big deal that Barbara Bush is believed to be the illegitimate daughter of this crazy activist/terrorist. This is what I mean when I keep huge gaps of editorial cartoons away from public scrutiny. I would not want to be struck by the backlash of exposing something humorous about a person in such a high position.

Same goes for that midget of a Mayor we have here in L.A. I can't help but feel that the midget says to me indirectly as I watch the news about his fillandering, "Loser, look, if I can find a gf and move on, so can you". Nevermind that he's a midget, even though that's his point exactly. If I was short and had as much money as he has, I would be able to have a gf too. Especially a career journalist gf.

I spent all day trying to figure out a way to transfer a document from one computer to another without hooking them up by USB cable, memory stick, firewire, etc. It's not easy considering I refuse to do this by sending myself an e-mail with said files attached. It seems I have no alternative however, as uploading the file to a secure folder in my personal web page distorts the headers so that the document is no longer recognized by the software. It's just as well, because the document in question is so cluttered with sure to be edited scenes, I would've been in lost as to where to begin this process of jumping from act one to act two. Having the premise of the story well embedded in my memory, I decided to hash out this rough index where I can insert more descriptive compositions.