Glass Jaw
Glass Jaw by Michael O’Reilly was first shown to me in art school. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since my recent hospital stay.
finally
About a year ago this post went up without much explanation:
Joel and Deron* have put on something over their jockstraps.
*The one he wears like a mask*.
*To block the image of Michael nesting in Troy Polamalu’s hair*.
*A frequent dream of Deron’s that leaves him feeling oddly aroused.
Originally created by Michael on September 9, 2010 and scheduled to publish the morning following the Super Bowl the post looked like this:
The NFL season has ended
And was changed by Deron on September 12:
I have the strength to say it. Deron, you are the handsomest man I know.
Concerning events in and around Anoka, MN
This is so depressing/infuriating that I actually recommend putting off reading until you have time to decompress afterward. I took it in two chunks.
“This isn’t something you kid about, Brittany,” her mom scolded, snatching the kitchen cordless and taking it down the hall to call the Johnsons. A minute later she returned, her face a mask of shock and terror. “Honey, I’m so sorry. We’re too late,” she said tonelessly as Brittany’s knees buckled; 13-year-old Sam had climbed into the bathtub after school and shot herself in the mouth with her own hunting rifle. No one at school had seen her suicide coming.
The Mother Courage of Rock
She was skinny, quick-witted, disarmingly unprofessional, alternating between stand-up patter, bardic intonations, and the hypnotic emotional sway of a chanteuse, and she was sexy in an androgynous way I hadn’t encountered before. The elements cohered convincingly; she seemed both entirely new and somehow long-anticipated. For me at nineteen, the show was an epiphany.
Springtime 1976, I was living in the cinderblock building on the glorified median strip there where they split Highway 13, and one day I went over to this one girl’s apartment, she lived right by the guy who dealt me speed, and she said, “Hey, you know who you remind me of? You remind me of Patti Smith!”
Gave her a possum grin I’m still grinning.
from the moderated comments
I live in EHT and it was I who fell from the sky and I’m truely sorry for not comming clean sooner. I’ve just come to terms with the fact that I am a super human. I promiss I did not get hurt nore did I leave a mark on the planet, I have powers I got it like that. Be sure to watch my episode of stan lee’s superhumans. My whole story about the fall will be explained. To give you a special preview I explain how I do that once a week for fun and I have a video that will be on the show, I swear. I just hope you guys can accept my exsistence.
Where I Live
Karst topography is found throughout the Driftless area. This is characterized by caves and cave systems, disappearing streams, blind valleys, underground streams, sinkholes, springs, and cold streams.
Disappearing streams and blind valleys. Sounds about right.
Funk songs from Vietnam GIs
If you didn’t get a Christmas present from me, it’s because I’m waiting till the New Year to buy you East of Underground: Hell Below. (Thanks to Valerie for the tip.)
In 1971 the US was pulling troops out of Vietnam, and its bases in Germany were full of draftees at a loose end. “You were painting shovels, picking up cigarette butts – it was a lot of busy-work,” remembers former serviceman Lewis Hitt. “There was a longing by everyone, especially the draftees, to get home and go back to what you were doing before.”
This was the crucible in which were formed scores of raucous funk bands made up of servicemen, four of which have just been compiled by Now-Again Records. Adoring crowd noise was crudely dubbed on top of their records, which were then distributed in recruitment centres. These bands were used by the army to present service as varied, even hip. But the songs they cover – the bitter, suspicious likes of Backstabbers and Smiling Faces Sometimes – undermine any potential propagandising.
12 Indicted On Hate Crimes Charges For Hair Cutting Assaults Led By Break-Off Amish Group
I think this is my favorite story of 2011.
How doctors die
Ken Murray, MD, is Clinical Assistant Professor of Family Medicine at USC. These are his observations:
It’s not a frequent topic of discussion, but doctors die, too. And they don’t die like the rest of us. What’s unusual about them is not how much treatment they get compared to most Americans, but how little. For all the time they spend fending off the deaths of others, they tend to be fairly serene when faced with death themselves. They know exactly what is going to happen, they know the choices, and they generally have access to any sort of medical care they could want. But they go gently. [...]
To administer medical care that makes people suffer is anguishing. Physicians are trained to gather information without revealing any of their own feelings, but in private, among fellow doctors, they’ll vent. “How can anyone do that to their family members?” they’ll ask. I suspect it’s one reason physicians have higher rates of alcohol abuse and depression than professionals in most other fields. I know it’s one reason I stopped participating in hospital care for the last 10 years of my practice.
How has it come to this — that doctors administer so much care that they wouldn’t want for themselves? The simple, or not-so-simple, answer is this: patients, doctors, and the system.
Hudson Bay inspired blanket
I am knitting this.
If I like it in its small form, I will also knit a much larger version. Almost everything I knit becomes a gift*, and every time I visit Deron and Amy I am reminded how special it is to surround yourself with your own creations. Thanks for the inspiration, friends.
* I get to keep the holey, mismeasured projects.
Miguel Endara, Hero
Watch as Miguel Endara draws a portrait of his father by meticulously tapping out millions and millions of dots. Like 2 Years & +200,000 Jelly Beans, this really made me itch.
(via ★glass)
from the moderated comment spam
Yes! this jet train built for political prisoners to dump in vast wilderness of Siberia.swift and speedy.one time kommissar directed to design bureau…,more and more jet engines to be fitted for smooth travel.genadi enraskoi of kommissar is responsible to see daily progress of the project.he was so keen to travel by this nasty time capsule.but he died in road accident before the project reached at testing stage.another prototype TURBOPROP,train was destroy after its first experimental run.unfortunatly they can`t perfectly aligned the pushing and pulling engines.soviets are planned new type of tracks for this train.but after some serious controlling and safety problems they abandoned this project.
This makes me very very happy
Transit
Don’t eat so much. You don’t have to keep going until everything is gone. The Clean Plate Club is not looking for new members. You are already full, so why do you continue eating? You taste nothing.
Review your hardware-store shopping list. Arrange the items in two categories: things that must be fixed before they break something else, and parts for projects you will never start. Stop choosing tools based on whether you think they will outlast your span of years. Do not synthesize memories and likely scenarios as you did last time.
Dear Clusterflock
Here I was having a terrible morning, and then I logged in to my work computer and got on here. I just noticed my stress headache is gone. Why didn’t someone tell me about all y’all when I was in rehab or when I felt like dying? I’m glad someone told me about clusterflock or I just don’t know where I would be right now.
Got any good jokes?
Full Disclosure
I’m not cut out for the Back-to-Basics life.
The last few years seem to have been on repeat: By late winter my body is craving an unprocessed, detoxed existence in the sun filled with hard work, and less digitized shenanigans mediated by an ongoing and evermore invasive variety of screens. So nose in a seed pack, fingers in the soil I get to work preparing and planting while dreaming about making cheese from scratch and creating handmade paper. Horrifically, I actually begin to think that one of those back-to-the-land communes could be kind of cool–communes got a bad rap, but they could be something special. Ugh. What is wrong with me?
Further disclosure at maldita lengua.
Dear Clusterflock: Are You Tricking or Treating?
Danny and I had good intentions. We bought candy, have it in a big bowl. We opted to go dark. Turned off all the lights. Sitting in. Watched an episode of “Once Upon a Time.” (Quick review? Not so good. Maybe even sucked.) Then an episode of “Grimm.” (Better? Maybe. Maybe also sucks.)
I’m in a mood. Prolly better lil chiren don’t see me tonight.
We ate some candy from the bowl. Tasted like a poisoned apple…or peanut butter and chocolate.
Putting the caped crusader on the couch
From a New York Times Op-Ed published several weeks ago:
Comic books have long relied on mental disorders to drive their most memorable villains. Consider the Batman line, in which the Joker, Harley Quinn and other “criminally insane” rogues are residents of Gotham City’s forensic psychiatric hospital, Arkham Asylum.
Introduced in 1974, Arkham grossly confuses the concepts of psychiatric hospital and prison. Patients are called “inmates,” decked out in shackles and orange jumpsuits, while a mental health professional doubles as the “warden.” Even the antiquated word “asylum” implies that the patients are locked away with no treatment and little hope of rejoining society. [...]
Of course, DC Comics, and comic books in general, are hardly the only source of these stereotypes or the only contributors to discrimination. At the same time, they are widely consumed, whether in the original form or as story lines for movies, TV shows and video games. Modernized mental health depictions in the Batman titles alone would reach millions of people worldwide through its billion-dollar-grossing films and blockbuster video games.
That’s why DC Comics should seize the opportunity with The New 52 to move to the forefront in transforming mental health depictions in comics. To start, writers should stop overemphasizing a link between violence and mental disorders to explain criminal behavior.
30 for Thirty Days, The End.
The last day of my thirty-day project. I don’t claim it as art, just something completed.
Memorandum
All:
Please disregard my recent emails. Forget about the phone messages, too. I know I sounded angry and excited, but I’ve had a chance to think things over and I don’t feel the same as I did when I said all of those hurtful words. I won’t apologize for the basis of my comments—I have a right to my own opinions, especially because they are correct—but regret your exposure to that barrage of toxicity. And the physical threats. You’ll notice I did not say “sorry.” That word is for the weak.
from the moderated comments
Well, Fuck me… your still as stupid as before.
Misery Bear Goes to Work
Thanks, Jenny.
The entire series is pretty great/sad, especially Misery Bear: Dawn of the Ted.
tweet of the day
The Oracle
Dear Google,
How are you? I am fine. I have a couple of queries, so back the hell off with the auto-fill answers for right now, okay?
So, seriously, how do you know so much? If I could access useless information as quickly as you do, I would get totally laid. Lightning-quick responses to trivia questions are an absolute panty-dropper—everybody understands that women can’t resist a guy who can do that.
I Thought All Was Lost…
Danny and I were watching a movie this afternoon. I jumped over the back of the couch to retrieve my pillow, turned around and toppled my cocktail over the laptop. The glass broke on the floor, ice cubes laying over my keyboard sitting next to the arm of the couch. Danny rushed the laptop up to the hair-dryer as I mopped up the floor. A few hours ago, after, the laptop would not start up. I was trying to use his netbook and feeling really unhappy about it, it not having all my stuff on it. At worst, I pictured the laptop at the spa the next few days. But just now I thought, “I’ll try it once more.” Here I am! I guess a few more hours drying time made the difference.
TG! TG, almighty!
