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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Dave's LiveJournal:
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| Thursday, July 9th, 2009 | | 2:50 pm |
| | Wednesday, July 8th, 2009 | | 9:13 am |
Tonight @ Burnhearts
Rave You in Bay View @ Burnhearts DJs Flavor Dav + Brian Whitney 2599 S Logan Avenue, MKE, WI 53207 Wednesday, 8 July 2009, 2200 hrs - close http://www.myspace.com/burnhearts Current Mood:  excitedCurrent Music: Even as We Speak, "(All You Find Is) Air" | | Tuesday, July 7th, 2009 | | 9:17 pm |
| | 8:20 pm |
| | Monday, July 6th, 2009 | | 12:21 pm |
| | 9:30 am |
| | 9:24 am |
| | Saturday, July 4th, 2009 | | 11:28 am |
| | 11:24 am |
| | 9:12 am |
Happy Independence Day!
"This is America, you live in it, you let it happen. Let it unfurl." --Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49 “Another mode of meaning behind the obvious, or none. Either Oedipa in the orbiting ecstasy of a true paranoia, or a real Tristero. For there either was some Tristero beyond the appearance of the legacy America, or there was just America and if there was just America then it seemed the only way she could continue, and manage to be at all relevant toit was as an alien, unfurrowed, assumed full circle into some paranoia.” --Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49 "Does Britannia, when she sleeps, dream? Is America her dream? -- in which all that cannot pass in the metropolitan Wakefulness is allow'd Expression away in the restless Slumber of these Provinces and on West-ward, wherever 'tis not yet mapp'd, nor written down, nor ever, by the majority of Mankind, seen, -- serving as a very Rubbish-Tip for subjunctive Hopes, for all that may yet be true, -- Earthly Paradise, Fountain of Youth, Realms of Prester John, Christ's Kingdom, ever behind the sunset, safe till the next Territory to the West be seen and recorded, measur'd and tied in, back into the Net-Work of Points already known, that slowly triangulates its Way into the Continent, changing all from subjunctive to declarative, reducing Possibilities to Simplicities that serve the ends of Governments, -- winning away from the realm of the Sacred, its Borderlands one by one, and assuming them unto the bare mortal World that is our home, and our Despair." --Thoams Pynchon, Mason & Dixon "Didn't we take the King's money, as here we'retaking it again? whilst Slaves waited upon us, and we neither one objected, as little a we have here, in certain houses south of the Line,-- Where does it end? No matter where in it we go, shall we find all teh World Tyrants and Slaves? America was the one place we shoud not have found them." --Thoams Pynchon, Mason & Dixon Current Mood: awakeCurrent Music: The Clash, "I'm So Bored with the U.S.A." | | Friday, July 3rd, 2009 | | 3:55 pm |
| | 3:27 pm |
| | 8:25 am |
The the AQ Test
Psychologist Simon [brother of Sasha] Baron-Cohen and his colleagues at Cambridge's Autism Research Centre have created the Autism-Spectrum Quotient, or AQ, as a measure of the extent of autistic traits in adults. In the first major trial using the test, the average score in the control group was 16.4. Eighty percent of those diagnosed with autism or a related disorder scored 32 or higher. The test is not a means for making a diagnosis, however, and many who score above 32 and even meet the diagnostic criteria for mild autism or Asperger's report no difficulty functioning in their everyday lives.... http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/9.12/aqtest.html Current Mood: awake | | 8:09 am |
| | 8:06 am |
| | Thursday, July 2nd, 2009 | | 4:49 pm |
I've failed ....
.. plain and simople, I've failed. At living. At life. Irreparably. Current Mood:  depressed | | Wednesday, July 1st, 2009 | | 8:09 pm |
The Gobbler
350 N Watertown St Johnson Creek, WI 53038 For Sale $2,299,000  Whether you are a serious investor, a fan or one of the many curious people wanting to see what's inside that famous structure off I-94 in Johnson's Creek; welcome to WWW.BUYTHEGOBBLER.COM! If you'd like to see the photos and listen to the story, click on the Virtual Tour Link and turn up the volume on your computer. Otherwise you are welcome to see the photo show right here by clicking on the Photos link. There will be written copy under the photos with descriptions We want to start a 'Resurrect The Gobbler' movement. The Gobbler Supper Club is more than just a restaurant on a hunk of land in Johnson's Creek Wisconsin. It was designed by award winning Architect Helmut Ajango and the Hartwig family to have classical beauty with personality and pizazz. We'd like to see this sleeping beauty wake up for the 21st century; after all, the 21st century was included in The Gobbler's design plan! We invite anyone with interesting stories and or photos of The Gobbler to submit them to GreytEstates@msn.com. Stories should be e-mailed and photos should be sent as .jpeg attachments. We can then post them as such under our “More Information” pages. http://www.buythegobbler.com/ Current Mood: hopeful | | 8:03 pm |
| | 11:50 am |
Tonight @ Burnhearts
Rave You in Bay View @ Burnhearts DJ Flavor Dav + special guests 2599 S Logan Avenue, MKE, WI 53207 Tonight and every Wednesday, 2000 hrs - close http://www.myspace.com/burnhearts Current Mood: excitedCurrent Music: Anvil Chorus, "Rhythm is the Way" | | Monday, June 29th, 2009 | | 3:39 pm |
The Man in the Mirror
By James Howard Kunstler on June 29, 2009 6:01 AM As America entered the horse latitudes of summer, befogged in a muffling stillness on deceptively calm seas, we were distracted for a while by visions of a pale death angel moonwalking across the deck of collective consciousness. Eerie parallels resound between the sordid demise of pop singer Michael Jackson and the fate of the nation. Like the United States, Michael Jackson was spectacularly bankrupt, reportedly in the range of $800-million, which is rather a lot for an individual. Had he lived on a few more years, he might have qualified for his own TARP program -- another piece of expensive dead-weight down in the economy's bilges -- since it is our established policy now to throw immense sums of so-called "money" at gigantic failing enterprises (while millions of ordinary citizens wash overboard, without so much as a life-preserver). Anyway, Michael Jackson was on the receiving end of one huge bank loan after another long after his pattern of profligacy was set and obvious. They threw money at him for the same reason that the federal government throws money at entities like CitiBank: the desperate hope that some miracle will allow debt servicing to resume. Michael could burn through $50-million in half a year. It didn't seem to affect his credibility as a borrower. When his heart stopped last week, he was living in a Hollywood mansion that rented for several hundred thousand dollars a month. You wonder how the landlord cashed those checks. Like the USA, Michael Jackson was a has-been. He hadn't recorded a song worth listening to in over two decades. He had done almost nothing but spin his wheels, hop around the globe from one place to another at enormous expense, and make himself available for award ceremonies to stoke his ego (and give advertisers a reason to promote some televised award show). He existed strictly on image, an anorectic figure nourished by moonbeams of attention, famous for saying that he loved his worshippers when the truth was he merely sucked the life out of them. In his last years, he even looked a bit like Nosferatu, the personification of the un-dead, and his fascination with ghouls was the basis for his biggest hit way back in the last century. A zombie nation deserves a zombie mascot. He was a poseur, vamping in weird military outfits as though he were a five-star general in the Honduran army, or a character from a melodrama by the reprobate Jean Genet. He once materialized during halftime at the Superbowl in a shower of sparks, thrilling the multitudes while grabbing and stroking his sex organs, as though that was a heroic activity -- and indeed the nation seemed to emulate him as its culture became dedicated more and more to acting out masturbation fantasies. America was a fat man jerking off on the sofa watching a vampire of no particular sex vogue deliriously on the boob tube. More than once the authorities tried to pin charges of child molestation on him for suspicious activities at his boy-trap, Neverland Ranch, with its carnival rides, private zoo, video game galleries, and inexhaustible supplies of sugary treats. The first time he settled with the alleged victim's family for $22-million. They just walked away with the loot and happily shut up. The second time, he moonwalked out of a court-of-law while weeks later jurors mysteriously went on TV to say, well, they did kind of think after-the-fact that he really did those things he was accused of, but, you know.... The defendant himself behaved as though his trial were a TV celebrity challenge show on another planet, arriving on one occasion twenty minutes late in pajamas with some lame excuse about a backache. He spent the last years of his life wandering a few steps ahead of his creditors, gulling concert promoters into "comeback" schemes (with walking-around money up front), and with three bought-and-paid-for children, obviously not his own, for consolation. When he dropped dead last week, the nation's morbidly maudlin response suggested a cover story for the relief of being rid of him and all the embarrassment he provoked. One CNN reporter called him a genius the equal of Mozart. That's a little like calling Rachel Maddow the reincarnation of Eleanor Roosevelt. A nation addicted to lying to itself tells itself fairy tales instead of facing a pathology report. Yet, like Michael Jackson, the undertone of horror story still pulses darkly in the background. The little boy who grew up to be the simulation of a girl was really a werewolf. The nation that defeated manifest evil in World War Two woke up one day years later to find itself stripped of its manhood, mentally enslaved to cheap entertainments, and hostage to its own grandiosity. Maybe in grieving so exorbitantly over this freak America is grieving for itself. All the loose talk about "love" from the media and the fans gives off the odor of self-love. America is "the man in the mirror," the gigantic, floundering Narcissus, sailing into the stormy seas of history. http://www.kunstler.com/blog/2009/06/the-man-in-the-mirror.html Current Mood: workingCurrent Music: Michael Jackson, "The Man in the Mirror" |
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