Suzi lives in England but doesn’t have dreadlocks anymore (mine were longer even when she had them). We met on flickr and occasionally she comes to the States for Burning Man. She is not nearly as proper as this photo indicates.
Best Song for getting drunk and playing foosball on Thanksgiving:
Best Song for riding around in the middle of the night in Golden Gate Park:
Best Song for playing darts:
Best Song for Checking Email:
Sounds like: Postal Service but with more LAZERS
Gripping Narrative:
Discovery is the recording project of Rostam Batmanglij and Wes Miles, friends who began recording together in the summer of 2005. One year later they had committed themselves to their respective bands, Vampire Weekend and Ra Ra Riot, but nonetheless continued to record together when they both found themselves in the same city. The project is many things: it’s partly an attempt to realize Wes’s concept of a band where everyone plays synthesizers, and of Rostam’s concept for an album where handclaps keep the backbeat instead of snares drums. It’s an embrace and also a commentary on the pop music of the past decade, of booming 808 bass and jittery sixteenth note high-hats. Elements of european electronic dance music skittering in double-time over steady R&B. If soul music is secularized, sexualized gospel, Discovery is an attempt to see if soul music can survive being plasticized, roboticized, quantized, chopped, and finally, screwed. The album features Rostam and Wes each singing half the songs and guest vocals from Ezra Koenig (Vampire Weekend) and Angel Deradoorian (Dirty Projectors).
Danny (all squinty eyed and on the left) is one of those people who is both exceptionally brilliant on the technical and creative levels. We lived together in Cambridge’s Central Square and he’s really one of my favorite housemates of all time. The scoundrel on the right is Joshua, also pretty f-ing sharp but this MFPoSPIK isn’t about him.
Could it be fruit in that glass or severed kangaroo balls? With these guys, you just. don’t. know.
Even with what may look like a dead squirrel adhered to my face, it’s good to know I can still charm my way to a free sandwich.
If I ever invite you to something but you can’t make it (for whatever reason) feel free to send someone else in your place. Know that I would take it as a great honor and that I would treat them with the all the respect that an esteemed friend deserves.
And if you want to make me really happy, you don’t even have to bother to tell me. You can just send the person to introduce themselves to me when they arrive. I will miss you, but I also love surprises and I like meeting your friends.
I wish this were socially acceptable but I feel like it would weird a lot of people out. Not me though, so go for it.
This is Kimpossible, one of the cobloggers on Voodoo Knickers. We’ve been friends since 1999 when she tried to leave a party and I steadfastly refused to let her go. Since then she’s gotten into all sorts of interesting adventures, many of which have been cataloged here. I’m very fond of the composition in this photo. The wry smile is representative.
This is N, C and I in some crazy ass town in Southern India. I’m posting this partially in honor of Beardvember.
This is B eating lunch at a Cafe in Vancouver in 2004. We were later mugged by Yakuza in Hiroshima but I used my dreadlocks to dazzle them. Nowadays B is a very competent doctor in LA(ish). I like having friends that I feel comfortable come at me with extremely sharp objects.
Previously, I had classified this one as “blindingly obvious” but I’ve seen it flagrantly defied in the last couple weeks so I’m going to restate it here. You, dear reader, already know this. I just want to restate it concisely for other people. {Just think about all the problems that are caused because people aren’t getting laid}
Your object of affection has a council of advisers called “friends.” You do not want them to be against you. Reach out and be nice. This should not be contrived because
let me rephrase this to be a bit more relevant to some recent events: If you’re dating some girl, don’t be a dick to all her sisters because they are going to relentlessly undermine your relationship at every possible opportunity. And really, dating is complicated enough without that right? Right.
This is actually part of a larger life lesson: Try not to be an asshole, to anyone, ever.
* I think the council of advisers extends to pets. I find that if I like someone’s pet, I almost always like them too.
This piece is not really that impressive beyond the fact that it’s just big and has a lot of pieces (which you’ll note is subtly different than being complicated). A simple familiarity with blowing glass reveals that making those tentacles is pretty easy. Sure it’s expensive materials-wize which is why lots of people don’t do it but if you have a lot of money and a big space this is actually pretty easy. Especially if you have the time. Basically all Chihuly did is just make a lot of twists and then stick them together. Which is cool, but I just think he gets too much credit is all.
Dale Chihuly: Nubs Down
Dale Chihuly having the self confidence to rock an eye patch instead of a prosthetic eyeball: Nubs Up
“Modern Art = I could do that + yeah, but you didn’t” – Craig Damraur
selcouth (adjective): strange, uncommon.
So yeah, I pretty much don’t have regular internet access right now. All my world wide webs, I will be back soon(ish).
My participation in the seasonal qualifiers for the North American Alliance of Beards and Mustachios has been rejected! A panel of Judges ruled that I look like a “damn wino” with a beard or possibly some sort of “afflicted zoo animal.”
I broke the css on the blog and then went on a camping trip. Sorry for any interruptions in service. Thanks to the ever vigilant Kimpossible for alerting me to my folly.
Hey, speaking of facial hair, I’ve got a pretty good idea for when I get back to SF. I’m thinking we should get a few nets, a stun gun, form a posse and head down to the mission district. We’ll tackle and subdue hipsters just long enough to shave off any ironic mustaches. Look inside yourself. Find your inner civic activist and then grab your scissors.