Clint Eastwood's foxy boxing picture knocks out The Aviator for best picture.

Ray never say it coming.

That is delightfully ridiculous. Thank you to Dr. C for giving me a heads up on this. Outstanding.

"Kiss my Converse!"

Have been blogging a bit too much about death lately. Let's see if we can change that.

A quick rehasing. The last couple of weeks have been about dealing with the flu and its aftermath. That was kinda ass. It's also been about not doing much of anything at work (and still getting paid; fancy that). The benefit of boss vacation, don'tcha know. Of course, my occupational lethargy meant that I stayed much later than I wanted to tonight to finish some work before he comes back tomorrow.

Beyond that, it's been kicking about the house, hooked either to my stereo, a book, or a video game. Have been conducting some music-related investigations, leading to some fascinating internal monologue re: art, the process of creation, and the avant-garde. Thoughts a-brewin', as always, but I'm currently lacking the commitment or coherence (the latter is a semi-permanent state) to really do something with it. I also need to stop letting better writers preclude me from even attempting to articulate thoughts on many of the subjects I'd like to write about. I've not yet found that place inside me that millions of other bloggers have discovered that allows them to go on--usually at great length--about any number of topics, despite a painful lack of expertise or writing skill. I've always contended that the best thing about this blog is its lack of pretense of being about anything more than a clearinghouse for links and the occasional pithy remark. I'd hate to upset that delicate balance by, you know, trying to wax intelligently (inanely) about things that I find interesting. My vanity only goes so far, and my public flexing is my limit.

Goodbye, Reggie.

As a Dolphins fan, Reggie Roby is the only punter that ever mattered. Sad.

Author Hunter S. Thompson kills himself.

A _co-moron_ is anyone who engages in interminable, pointless, tedious discussions with a moron, trying to "educate the moron" / "prove the moron incorrect" / "triumph over the moron", failing to understand the separate but equal futility of each of those goals.

The result of an aggregation of _co-morons_ is a sufficient supply of ego stroking attention for the moron that the moron becomes _embedded in_ the discussion forum, with no reason ever to leave it in peace, and the forum becomes a saturated "troll flood plain" rife with low quality content and with no room left for its intended discussions.

This I found randomly here. God bless the nerds.

Yahoo! News - Va. Bill Sets Fine for Low-Riding Pants

Low Ride!

So, so ridiculous.

Dead.

Ossie Davis (RIP)

Max Schmeling (I knocked him out just last week.)

Are we sure this isn't a true Hot Carl?

Kiddie Records Weekly: dig them crazy album covers!

I swear, just give me a sampler, two turntables, and the budget of a small island nation so's I could stock up on vinyl like this, and I could turn out the greatest party record ever.

***

You know how I can tell the new Punisher video game is going to suck? Because they barely show any of the actual in-game screens in the commercials. It seems like it's all cut-scenes. I think they're trying to sucker people in with the graphics, only to hand them a crappy game.

Unless, of course, those are the in-game screens. In which case, this could be the greatest game ever.


***

One feature of the Xbox that I hope the PS3 will integrate: the ability to create your own soundtrack for certain games. A nice touch.

I got a fever and the only cure is...

Duce! Duce! Duce!



(for Carl)

Union Reaches Tentative Deal With Hotels

This is great news, and just made my weekend. I really hope the union got a fair deal. Kinda makes me wish I had gone to the team member gala that's going on as I type this.

Well, not really. My co-workers are fucking clownshoes. But congrats to the union! What you lacked in chants, you made up for in determination.

WHFS is dead. Long live WHFS?

As many of you local Washingtonians may know, WHFS, "modern rock" radio for the D.C. metro area, switched formats without warning, becoming El Zol, a Spanish-language station. It has, not surprisingly, outraged several locals, who now will have to look elsewhere for their Nickelback fix. I, on the other hand, fail to see what all the hub-bub is about. I understand that many moons ago, 'HFS was somewhat relevant (this would be their free form years). But in the dozen years that I've lived in this area, 'HFS has been largely forgettable, offering little more than what kids could get (with moving images!) on the MTV. It's place as a local institution aside, I see no reason to get all worked up over the format change. It's not like 'HFS was presenting music you can't find anywhere else. 'HFS had its day, and maybe if they were more interested in building a following by providing a true alternative (remember that word?) to what was out there, I'd give a good goddamn about the station's demise. But, switching from one corporate controlled format to another means little to me. It's like noticing corn in your stool: it's different, but it's still shit.

Vaya con dios, 'HFS.

As some of you may know, I work at one of the larger hotels that will be hit by the labor fallout that looms on the horizon. Today, they started to "walk and work", meaning they work their shift, then go walk a picket line on their free time. A full-blown strike could happen as soon as this weekend.

Now, I could go into a few of the more relevant issues being brought up in these discussions, or I could go into my own opinions about hotel management, the union, etc. However, I will bypass these relevant hot topics and, as always, go straight for comedy.

Worst. Chants. Ever.

I think my contribution to the revolution may have to be writing some new chants that won't make them sound like toll booth school rejects moaning the lyrics to The Banana Splits in German. (Or something equally ridiculous.) An example of their inspiring rallying cries:

"I don't know but I've been told/DC is a union town."

They also did a parody of some fight song from Remember the Titans, but I haven't seen that movie, so I can't really give any details. (My colleague informed me of the source material for that chant.)

Anyway, I really am hoping that this can be resolved before a big strike breaks out. With any luck, reason and fairness will finally make their way to the bargaining table and everybody can walk away happy. Naive? Possibly, but what else am I going to wish for?

I wonder what Snopes will have to say about this.

Mud shrimp, anyone?

I know this is a little late, but have some holiday music right here.

I coulda/shoulda x-posted this to my music blog, but this intrigues me more from a science/tech/geek standpoint than a musical one. Though, having listened to one of the tracks here ("Holy Night"), it also works on a musical level as well. That track is minimal, but the fluctuating peaks of sound has a very sensual quality to it. I probably couldn't listen to a lot of this at once, but there's enough to it that I could revisit it.

Anyway, you should probably read here before checking it out, just to get a better idea of what you're actually listening to.

Welcome to 2005.

Have been banged up the last couple of days, riding out some mild food poisoning. Consequently, blogging is not particularly high on the list of things to do when I'm home. But, thought I'd say a few words, welcome the rabble to a new year here at the clown college known as The Damian Vegas Experience (DVX in shorthand).

First, I'd like to say how much I'm enjoying (from the little I've seen; I've been napping most of this evening) USC putting a beating on Oklahoma. I'm not really a USC fan, but for some reason, I don't like Oklahoma. I have no reason. Just a hater, I guess.

The year wound up very nicely, I must say. Family-wise, this is without question one of the best Christmases I've had in some time. Everybody was there, there was no drama, and everybody seemed really happy. Plus, my nephew and I spent a lot of time together. That's always a good thing.

Work has been pretty busy, as to be expected for this time of the year in an accounting office. I will say, however, that stress-wise, it is nowhere near what I was expecting, which is a huge godsend. This food poisoning nonsense was bad enough. But if the stress had even approached last year's levels, I would have quit on the spot and probably released some of my gastro-ick in the director's office as a parting shot. (For the record, the offending food was mashed potatoes; I can't believe one of my favorite foods turned on me!)

The New Year's Eve celebration was also low-key, but very nice. JG and I made the trip up to Emmaus, where we dove into 2005 with JW, CE and his family. No twinkies were deep-fried, but I did have some apple pucker. So things balanced out.

The football season has ended. That means the fantasy football season has ended as well. Once again, I sucked in the league that counted ($$$) and won my non-money Yahoo league. Oh well, I had fun anyway.

Shameless plug: check out Missives to the Masses, SR's re-invention of his blog. It's a quality, well-written read.

Getting kinda scattered here (I mean, even for this blog), so I'm wrapping it up. Best wishes for the new year to my friends. And to my enemies: crabs. Mutant crabs laying waste to your genitalia. Resolution #1: no pulling punches in 2005! I rule you!

Kobe's Heel Turn?

Bill Simmons, over on ESPN's Page 2, suggests that Kobe "turn heel" and embrace his notoriety. That would work, except (yes, I'm about to pretend this suggestion was serious) that heel or face, you have to have charisma to get over. I've seen Kobe in interviews. He's got all the mic skills of Steve Blackman. Frankly, Kobe would probably come off more as Bob Holly than Hollywood Hogan if turned heel.

But then, I'm just a wrestling nerd. What do I know?