Keepin' It REAL Since 198Fizzour!

"Sicut patribus, sit Deus nobis."

2012-01-15T18:24:00.001-05:00

As to our fathers may god be to us - motto of boston!

From 'The Unsilvered Glass,' By Phillippe Soupault

2011-10-21T14:05:00.001-04:00

Prisoners of drops of water, we are but everlasting animals. We run about the noiseless towns and the enchanted posters no longer touch us. What's the good of these great fragile fits of enthusiasm, these jaded jumps of joy? We know nothing any more but the dead stars; we gaze at their faces; and we gasp with pleasure. Our mouths are as dry as the lost beaches, and our eyes turn aimlessly and without hope. Now all that remain are these cafes where we meet to drink these cool drinks, these diluted spirits, and the tables are stickier than the pavements where our shadows of the day before have fallen.

Guy Debord:

2011-10-13T23:19:00.002-04:00

"The first phase of the domination of the economy over social life brought into the definition of all human realization the obvious degradation of being into having."

From The Pale King - DF WAllace

2011-10-12T19:17:00.001-04:00

Corporations are getting better and better at seducing us into thinking the way they think—of profits as the telos and responsibility as something to be enshrined in symbol and evaded in reality. Cleverness as opposed to wisdom. Wanting and having instead of thinking and making. We cannot stop it. I suspect what’ll happen is that there will be some sort of disaster—depression, hyperinflation—and then it’ll be showtime: We’ll either wake up and retake our freedom or we’ll fall apart utterly. Like Rome—conqueror of its own people.

2011-10-02T12:29:00.001-04:00

"MARCIARE NON MARCIRE." - F.T. MARINETTI

From "The Meaning of Futurism"

2011-10-01T19:54:00.001-04:00

F.T. Marinetti: "Heroism is an everyday occurrence. Every kind of danger and every kind of struggle. Hands dirty from digging trenches but equally adept with the pen, the rudder, the steering wheel, the chisel, the slap in the face, and the rifle."

Some Hilarious Out-takes from Salvador Dali' in an Interview with Mike Wallace in 1958

2011-09-30T13:29:00.003-04:00

Dali: "The manner of expend my time avec the more joy, the more deleeghtiful, is becoming everyday a little more Dali'."

Dali: First I wanted to be one cooking woman, one woman cooking, second like in becoming Napoleon, and then like in becoming Dali'.

Dali: Yes, everybody love Dali' very much.

Wallace: When you were courting your wife, Gala, you did an usual thing, as your described it, you smeared your body with your own blood from a cut, you tore your clothes, then you rubbed a jar of evil smelling fish glue all over yourself and you planned to present yourself this way in front of your future wife. Why did you do this?

Dali: Because in this moment believe is true Dali' is almost crazy before met Gala, my brine [brain] is very close of one pseechopathologic brine [brain].

Wallace: Your brain... yes

Dali: In this moment like to seduce Gala in the most terrific manner, I believe che the smell is the more attractive manner for seduce Gala, and Gala is becoming in love with me and this is probably the real raison.

Chez-moi

2011-09-29T15:12:00.001-04:00

Cabs in Espinar, Peru

2011-09-29T12:38:00.001-04:00

Courtesy of Ian Coleman

Pannaggi's SCIATORE, 1928

2011-09-27T16:34:00.001-04:00

I am blogging from my iPod.

2011-09-09T01:17:00.001-04:00

Blog!

From "Was Marx Right?" By Umair Haque

2011-09-08T21:26:00.000-04:00

Predicted by Marx: "Alienation. As workers were divorced from the output of their labor, Marx claimed, their sense of self-determination dwindled, alienating them from a sense of meaning, purpose, and fulfillment. How's Marx doing on this score? I'd say quite well: even the most self-proclaimed humane modern workplaces, for all their creature comforts, are bastions of bone-crushing tedium and soul-sucking mediocrity, filled with dreary meetings, dismal tasks, and pointless objectives that are well, just a little bit alienating. If sweating over the font in a PowerPoint deck for the mega-leveraged buyout of a line of designer diapers is the portrait of modern "work," then call me — and I'd bet most of you — alienated: disengaged, demoralized, unmotivated, uninspired, and about as fulfilled as a stoic Zen Master forced to watch an endless loop of Cowboys and Aliens."

Best Society - Philip Larkin

2011-08-30T12:38:00.000-04:00

When I was a child, I thought,
Casually, that solitude
Never needed to be sought.
Something everybody had,
Like nakedness, it lay at hand,
Not specially right or specially wrong,
A plentiful and obvious thing
Not at all hard to understand.

Then, after twenty, it became
At once more difficult to get
And more desired - though all the same
More undesirable; for what
You are alone has, to achieve
The rank of fact, to be expressed
In terms of others, or it's just
A compensating make-believe.

Much better stay in company!
To love you must have someone else,
Giving requires a legatee,
Good neighbours need whole parishfuls
Of folk to do it on - in short,
Our virtues are all social; if,
Deprived of solitude, you chafe,
It's clear you're not the virtuous sort.

Viciously, then, I lock my door.
The gas-fire breathes. The wind outside
Ushers in evening rain. Once more
Uncontradicting solitude
Supports me on its giant palm;
And like a sea-anemone
Or simple snail, there cautiously
Unfolds, emerges, what I am.

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse

2011-08-30T12:32:00.002-04:00

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

By fools in old-style hats and coats,

Who half the time were soppy-stern

And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.

It deepens like a coastal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

And don't have any kids yourself.

GOING, GOING by Philip Larkin. (January 1972)

2011-08-30T12:30:00.001-04:00

I thought it would last my time -
The sense that, beyond the town,
There would always be fields and farms,
Where the village louts could climb
Such trees as were not cut down;
I knew there'd be false alarms

In the papers about old streets
And split level shopping, but some
Have always been left so far;
And when the old part retreats
As the bleak high-risers come
We can always escape in the car.

Things are tougher than we are, just
As earth will always respond
However we mess it about;
Chuck filth in the sea, if you must:
The tides will be clean beyond.
- But what do I feel now? Doubt?

Or age, simply? The crowd
Is young in the M1 cafe;
Their kids are screaming for more -
More houses, more parking allowed,
More caravan sites, more pay.
On the Business Page, a score

Of spectacled grins approve
Some takeover bid that entails
Five per cent profit (and ten
Per cent more in the estuaries): move
Your works to the unspoilt dales
(Grey area grants)! And when

You try to get near the sea
In summer . . .
It seems, just now,
To be happening so very fast;
Despite all the land left free
For the first time I feel somehow
That it isn't going to last,

That before I snuff it, the whole
Boiling will be bricked in
Except for the tourist parts -
First slum of Europe: a role
It won't be hard to win,
With a cast of crooks and tarts.

And that will be England gone,
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes,
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There'll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.

Most things are never meant.
This won't be, most likely; but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.

L'Avvelenata

2011-07-19T13:56:00.000-04:00

Ma s' io avessi previsto tutto questo, dati causa e pretesto, le attuali conclusioni
credete che per questi quattro soldi, questa gloria da stronzi, avrei scritto canzoni;
va beh, lo ammetto che mi son sbagliato e accetto il "crucifige" e così sia,
chiedo tempo, son della razza mia, per quanto grande sia, il primo che ha studiato...

Mio padre in fondo aveva anche ragione a dir che la pensione è davvero importante,
mia madre non aveva poi sbagliato a dir che un laureato conta più d' un cantante:
giovane e ingenuo io ho perso la testa, sian stati i libri o il mio provincialismo,
e un cazzo in culo e accuse d' arrivismo, dubbi di qualunquismo, son quello che mi resta...

Voi critici, voi personaggi austeri, militanti severi, chiedo scusa a vossìa,
però non ho mai detto che a canzoni si fan rivoluzioni, si possa far poesia;
io canto quando posso, come posso, quando ne ho voglia senza applausi o fischi:
vendere o no non passa fra i miei rischi, non comprate i miei dischi e sputatemi addosso...

Secondo voi ma a me cosa mi frega di assumermi la bega di star quassù a cantare,
godo molto di più nell' ubriacarmi oppure a masturbarmi o, al limite, a scopare...
se son d' umore nero allora scrivo frugando dentro alle nostre miserie:
di solito ho da far cose più serie, costruire su macerie o mantenermi vivo...

Io tutto, io niente, io stronzo, io ubriacone, io poeta, io buffone, io anarchico, io fascista,
io ricco, io senza soldi, io radicale, io diverso ed io uguale, negro, ebreo, comunista!
Io frocio, io perchè canto so imbarcare, io falso, io vero, io genio, io cretino,
io solo qui alle quattro del mattino, l'angoscia e un po' di vino, voglia di bestemmiare!

Secondo voi ma chi me lo fa fare di stare ad ascoltare chiunque ha un tiramento?
Ovvio, il medico dice "sei depresso", nemmeno dentro al cesso possiedo un mio momento.
Ed io che ho sempre detto che era un gioco sapere usare o no ad un certo metro:
compagni il gioco si fa peso e tetro, comprate il mio didietro, io lo vendo per poco!

Colleghi cantautori, eletta schiera, che si vende alla sera per un po' di milioni,
voi che siete capaci fate bene a aver le tasche piene e non solo i coglioni...
Che cosa posso dirvi? Andate e fate, tanto ci sarà sempre, lo sapete,
un musico fallito, un pio, un teorete, un Bertoncelli o un prete a sparare cazzate!

Ma s' io avessi previsto tutto questo, dati causa e pretesto, forse farei lo stesso,
mi piace far canzoni e bere vino, mi piace far casino, poi sono nato fesso
e quindi tiro avanti e non mi svesto dei panni che son solito portare:
ho tante cose ancora da raccontare per chi vuole ascoltare e a culo tutto il resto!

- Francesco Guccini

Felicita'

2011-07-19T13:48:00.000-04:00

C'e' un'Ape che se posa
su un bottone de rosa:
lo succhia e se ne va...
Tutto sommato, la felicita'
e' una piccola cosa.

-Trilussa

You Pick the Continent, Ee and I'll Throw a Party

2011-07-15T11:37:00.001-04:00

2011-07-15T11:32:00.002-04:00

2011-07-15T11:31:00.000-04:00

Neptune Comes Full Circle.

Mambo, I mean, Adventure #5

2011-06-23T12:05:00.003-04:00

My Punkle and Funkle and I have been adventuring since 2009 when I arrived for our first trip with no sleeping bag, no towel, and know silverware or plateware.

Things have come a long way since then. Let's just say the student has become the master :P And they've taught me everything I know about the outdoors.

This most recent trip was to North Manitou Island, part of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. The Ojibway legend has it that a great flood caused a bear family to swim Lake Michigan in search of refuge. The mother bear made it (The Sleeping Bear Dunes) but her cubs didn't (the islands) and she's been there waiting for them ever since. So the name's basically a euphemism for the Dead Bear Dunes.

The three of us and my cousin Bob hiked about 25 miles in two days and saw all there is to see, I believe, of this aptly named isle.

This pic is from our last day, just before boarding the ferry.

Obsidian Rocks for Obsidious Rex

2011-06-19T22:19:00.001-04:00

Punkle Tom Draws a Pusscannel Line and the Skeeters Do the Hula

2011-06-19T22:16:00.001-04:00

North Manitou Island Didn't See Us Coming

2011-06-19T22:05:00.003-04:00

Lost 'Flaming Lips at Lollapalooza Santiago' Pics

2011-06-19T21:54:00.000-04:00

Endeavor docked to the ISS!

2011-06-07T22:34:00.000-04:00

Ian's Birthday and My Going-Away Party

2011-03-28T12:34:00.003-04:00

2011-03-28T12:29:00.001-04:00

Misc Pics Ee and I found. (You can click on any pic to enlarge it.)

2011-03-26T07:52:00.003-04:00

Aunt Jane, Aunt Betsy, Aunt Debbie, and Funkle Paul

Trunkle Bernie
Me and Ee in Rome at the Tiber in 2007
Clockwise from left: Aunt Debbie, Punkle Tom, Funkle Paul, my mom, Aunt Betsy
My dad at the Coleman's on my 21st Birthday

Shots for Scott (& and Punkle Tom)!

2011-03-26T07:26:00.001-04:00

2011-03-23T12:04:00.002-04:00

Valparaiso on our way to the coast

2011-03-22T21:46:00.003-04:00

Ian as pin-up in a 'lounging' catalogue

Tripping to the coast

2011-03-22T21:43:00.001-04:00

Uuuuh, yeah, that's a very fun trapeze in our hostel's common room.

I just realized I can link my articles to my blog. Technolergy...

2011-02-02T20:00:00.003-05:00

The American | In Italia: Features: Wonderland: Backpack

*************************************

My Trip Takes a Turn for the Better or Worse

2011-01-31T12:19:00.003-05:00

Just the Four of Us, We Can Make It if We Try...

2011-01-31T12:13:00.002-05:00

The Perito Moreno Glaciar

2011-01-31T12:08:00.001-05:00

New Year's Eve in El Chalten

2011-01-31T12:03:00.000-05:00

Ian's Pics of Fitz Roy, El Chalten and New Year's 2011

2011-01-31T11:58:00.000-05:00

Ian's Pics of Fitz Roy, El Chalten and New Year's 2011

2011-01-31T11:49:00.001-05:00

Mixed and Matched Forgotten Photos from Nurit's and Julianne's FAILED QUEST FOR UN CONO DI PAPAS FRITTAS

2011-01-25T12:38:00.003-05:00

Don't be fooled by the Spanish. It's the 'Strait of Magellan'!

The Volcano at Puerto Varas and the Bottle of Wine that Washed Down the Nyquil on the Bus to Santiago

2011-01-25T12:29:00.004-05:00

That's the Osorno Volcano peeking out through the clouds.

Prosit Fest and Star-Sighting of the Most Handsome Beatle

2011-01-25T12:26:00.001-05:00

(Ring Starr looks a lot like Ben Stiller up close.)

NAVIMAG: The Quest for the Epically Mediocre.

2011-01-25T12:15:00.004-05:00

We took a boat in order to escape the strike. We decided to take it a 5:15 and had to be there a 5:30. No one knew if it would really depart or not, but they said to be at the port just incase. We got there and there were a few strikers. Then there were more, and more. Finally we were able to depart at 2am. Nurit and I snuck into a first class room with our very own bathroom (we'd gotten double third class tickets and our actual beds were in the hallway). No one said anything so we stayed in our room for 4 days and nights as we navimag-ed up the coast through fjords and canals to Puerto Montt.

I won the Biggest Loser in bingo on the last night on board and had to dance for a bottle of wine. It was fun, except I had to dance to Nirvana which is basically impossible.

Anywho, these are some pics from the epically mediocre Navimag ferry.

Nurit's Pics of Torres del Paine and the Strike in Magallanes

2011-01-25T12:11:00.000-05:00

Nurit's Pics of Faces in Torres del Paine

2011-01-25T12:08:00.001-05:00

Roadblocks in Magallanes, Cruza Roja to the Rescue

2011-01-17T10:48:00.001-05:00

Nurit is rethinking her choice of scout....

The Last Day of our Trek and First Day in Purgatory

2011-01-16T12:38:00.000-05:00

Torres del Paine continued

2011-01-16T12:23:00.000-05:00

The Quest to Say 1,000,000,000 'Holas'

2011-01-16T12:07:00.004-05:00

Nurit and I did the 'W' trek at Torres del Paine National Park. Some photos you will see are Lago Grey and Glacier Grey, the mountains surrounding the trek, and the Torres del Paine themselves.

We heard rumors while hiking that there was a strike in the Magallanes region where the park is, that the roads were blocked and the borders closed while citizened protested the rise in natural gas prices. We thought they were just rumors...

When we got to the entrance of the park, however, we saw hundreds of tents set up, there were soup lines and shower lines, like a refugee camp for rich tourists.

A day later they were able to open the roads long enough to get some people out and we got onto a bus to Puerto Natales. Now we are ´trapped´here. It's pretty sweet actually. The town is overrun with friends we have made on our trek. We are the most popular people in town it feels like. 1000s of people are staying at the local Red Cross, sleeping on gym mats, the whole shebang. We head over to the ole Red Cross just to socialize with our many friends, say a few 'holas,' get a free cup of coffee, and then we hole up in our hostel again. We are stuck here, all of us, until at least Tuesday...

They have gotten some people out to El Calafate and Punta Arena with military buses and planes, but apparently once you get to the those towns' airports you have to hike the 50 kilometers into town or sleep at the airport for a few days until the strike ends. We have decided to wait it out in comfort at the most gringo hostel in all of puerto natales. 250 VHSs to behold. Last night was What about Bob... tonight is Princess Bride.

It's like purgatory here. All strangely familiar and unfamiliar faces. People we met at a campsite, shared a picnic table with, or hiked with for a few kilometers keep popping in and out of existence as we are all wander the park and now town (everything is closed due to the strike) trying to pass the time.

Penguins in Punta Arenas, Chile

2011-01-16T11:55:00.000-05:00

Ushuaia. The Southern most city in the world. Almost...

2011-01-08T08:10:00.000-05:00

Cormorants and Mussels

2011-01-08T07:58:00.001-05:00

Sea Lions and Island H

2011-01-08T07:46:00.001-05:00

The Culo del Mundo... Ushuaia

2011-01-08T07:29:00.001-05:00

Punkle Paul told me that I had to puncture Nurit´s toe nail with a red-hot needle. So we got the operating room sterilized and the operation was a success! Thanks Punkle.

OBLIGATORY Mount Fitz Roy in the Dazzling Dawn

2011-01-03T09:32:00.001-05:00

The Quest for the Dazzling Dawn Continues

2011-01-03T09:24:00.003-05:00

These pics are pretty self-explanatory. Sunrise from the Fitz Roy, duh! Ian and Kristina have the real 'keeper' pics, but mine will do for now.

We brought the camp stove and made coffee and oatmeal, which was greatly needed after chilling out for a few hours waiting for the sun. Ian thinks it was just about freezing before sunrise.

The Quest to the Dazzling Dawn

2011-01-03T09:05:00.002-05:00

My first fav part of the trek was the Quest for the Dazzling Dawn. We left camp at Point Snot to head down to the river and clean our dinner dishes. As we came out from the little glen where our site was, we saw the stars for the first time (the other nights we had been too tired to venture out of camp and fell asleep by midnight, which is still twilight this far south). I saw the Souterh Cross right away, Orion and Taurus were upside down, The moon was nowhere to be found so the Milky Way was very intense, and it seems much more vivid from this hemisphere. We were all so excited that we decided to hike up to Lago de los Tres that night. We had also been considering how we would wake up by 3am for the 5am sunrise after a 20 k hike and with no alarm clock.
So we went back to camp, gathered our day-hiking stuff and our sleeping bags and headed out with head lamps and flashlights to climb the 500 meters to the OBLIGATORY look out.
The climb was tough and a scramble in the dark, but it was well worth it. We arrived, climbed in out bags, while Ian kept guard and made coffee.
The best part was when Ian and I arrived at the first look out point and sat down to wait for the girls. Just as we sat down the crescent moon started to peak out over the mountain across the valley. We saw just its point first and thought it was an encounter. Within 8 minutes we could see it all, the moon moves so fast when there is a reference point for it. An hour later another light appeared at the same point and EE and I were sure this time it was a UFO... it was Venus.

We had a couple of hours to watch the stars and then morning twilight rendered the sky all shades of blue, from oil spill to the color of Nurit's big toe after our first day of hiking, to enamel, to turquoise...
Then the sun appeared.

My guidebook is from 2003, which meant that prices were all wrong. The good news was that it had a couple of day hikes in it that have since been eliminated. One of which was the hike to Laguna Sucia. It was an hour-long scramble along all sizes of rock. A small climb up a rock wall and over to Laguna Sucia for the view of the sunsetting on Fitzy Roy. It was my second favorite part of the trip.

Kristina wasn´t sure what the smaller animal was that we weren´t supposed to bring into the park... raccoon? fat cat? dingo?

Day Three and we were walking back to Point Snot from which we were to see the OBLIGATORY sunrise next day. The trek is either a point A to Point B and return kinda thing in the 4 days, or you can do a loop. We optioned for the loop, so day one was pretty hard, scrambling for a couple of hours along the west side of the rio. But it rendered day three easy without being redundant. We walked along some barren terrain to El Pilar, a Hosteria in the middle of nowhere where we treated ourselves to the famous Argentine steak we knew would give us to energy to see the OBLIGATORY sunrise. The bridge in the above pick was our sign that we had arrived to Route 3 which would take us to El Pilar.

The Quest for The UTTERLY STUPENDOUS

2011-01-03T08:57:00.003-05:00

We did manage to find a place behind a boulder for lunch, there was a little pond and some grass where the wind protected the area. And the view was just about UTTERLY STUPENDOUS.

Ian and I are holding our hats not because we thought the pic would have more character but rather because the wind blew so strongly we actually thought it would blow Nurit right away a couple of times.

Day two saw us climbing 1500 meters to the top of Cerro Electrico for an UTTERLY STUPENDOUS view of Fitz Roy and the top end of the glacier we had eaten lunch at the day before.

Refugio Fraile was our home for two nights. We slept in tents and there were lean-tos to cook in as the wind was too strong for our little camp stoves.

The Quest for the IMPRESSIVELY BLEAK

2011-01-03T08:33:00.003-05:00

Another 12 kilometers down the road and we were almost at our campsite for the night. Along rio Electrico and at the foot of Cerro Electrico. The camp and little refuge were beautiful.

Our first rest stop for the day, after searching for the cairns that would guide us along an ambiguous and very rocky/bouldery path, was at Piedras Blancas Lake and Galcier. We ate lunch and sucked on some IMPRESSIVELY BLEAK glacier ice.

We met Ian and Kristina that night in Ba and after a nice Xmas dinner we heading early the next morning to El Calafate. After one night in the Rancho Grande Hostel (really nice!) we took a bus to El Chalten, a beautiful town, pop. 300, and headed into Glacier National Park. Little could we have imagined what lay ahead of us.

Nurit arrived in Buenos Aires and we had our last day in civilization! Cappuccinos and sundresses while we still could...

Behold Buenos Aires!

2010-12-24T05:33:00.001-05:00

Dawn seen from Lucia's apartment after an evening spent learning to tango.

Buenos Aires as seen from the Tigre delta.

Buenos Aires

2010-12-24T05:25:00.001-05:00

Downtown.
In Tigre, the delta of the Tigre River.
Downtown at Placa del Mayo.
Lucia and Laura, my Barcelona twins.

More Riofitti

2010-12-19T12:03:00.001-05:00

Cristo Redentor!

2010-12-19T11:59:00.000-05:00

Rio in a day

2010-12-16T20:19:00.003-05:00

If my family lost me again it would be to this city. It´s as decadent as New Orleans, but with a formidable boundary. You can´t forget that you are surrounded by looming mounds, which wouldn´t be rightly called mountains. The central-most of these mounds is called The Sugar Loaf, and that is just about what they look like. Or like volcanoes that mated with rockets. Amazonia creeps in over fences and down walls as neon-green moss, as vines hanging long from old, glossy-leaved trees. In my nieghborhood of Botafogo high-rises haven´t replaced the original colonial style buildings. Some are as overgrown as a forgotten garden, with flowers blooming out of glassless windows. Others are painted in bright colors to hide their shambles, and others still are pristine.
Rio´s boundaries shroud the skies. Cristo Redentor peeks in and out of skyscape wherever you walk, as do the many rocket-loaf hills. When we were coming in from Natal the plane didn´t splash through the clouds until we were almost on the ground. I saw nothing but clouds for minutes, then the sea speckled with its many coastal islands. And it seems that the clouds hang lower in Rio. The tops of the rocket-loaves are often Mount Fuji-esque when their oblong shapes are partially covered in foggy masses.
Rio´s shanty towns (favelas) hover around every corner as well. They climb up the hills of the landscape and their bright colors make sure you don´t forget them. From the central cemetery the view of the millions of people living without running water or plumbing lends a cheeky juxtposition. So many people with such lavish faith, decorating their family members´graves once a week, spending thousands on statues, gravestones, and tombs. So much faith and so little to believe in. So much decadence and so much decay...

I stopped in on Ipanema on my way home from the Planetarium, and the city had me. I hadn´t seen anything but the waves roaring and Cariocas (born and raised in Rio) sunbathing at that point, but I already know I could stay in this city forever.

Angels in the City of God

2010-12-16T20:12:00.002-05:00

2010-12-16T19:44:00.004-05:00

Just the tip of Rio´s graffiti iceberg

2010-12-16T19:39:00.003-05:00

Hairy Crabs and the Mercato Central in Fortaleza

2010-12-16T19:28:00.000-05:00

Too many caipirihnas in fortaleza and a day at the beach

2010-12-12T20:26:00.004-05:00

Tiziana, Ronald, me, Lucas, and Deborah walking to the beach.

Lucas, Tiago, and on the right Bruno, our host and party-master.

Moqueca in Bahia

2010-12-09T10:29:00.002-05:00

The view from the restaurant Lucas's cousins, Leli, took us to for Moqueca, which is a traditional fish soup. (so good!)
At bom fin, a church where you can buy little flags that you make a wish on then tie to your wrist or ankle or anywhere and when it breaks your wish comes true.
Bom fin again.

In salvador

2010-12-09T10:24:00.001-05:00

Passion fruit (maracuja') gelato.
Feijoada (pig feet, ears, nose, tail, and jerked beef with black beans), it's really good. And it's a classic Brazilian dish. We made it for Lucas's birthday.
The Praia do Forte near Lucas's parents' house in Guarajuba.

Bahia and Salvador

2010-12-06T22:39:00.001-05:00

Looking for coffee with Lucas and Leli in Salvador.

DISCOMFORT AND DEPRIVATION AS MEDITATION

2010-10-02T10:07:00.002-04:00

By now I know that this isn't a true blog but more a collection of past thoughts and actions. I'm even sure if anyone reads it, but for that one person out there that keeps up on my thoughts and actions, I apologize. All thoughts are being directed towards grad applications, a mini-thesis called 'Alberto Moravia e il carattere sacro dell'umano nel mondo moderno,' and my two writing gigs. So all you have gotten of late is action. And not even much of that.

This last weekend my cousin Ian, Uncle Tom and I did a 40 mile trek along Pictured Rock in Michigan's U.P. It runs along Lake Superior and should be on every one of my friend's bucket list. Come see me and I'll take you there.

The first pic is at our arrival point on day 4, just before we hit of Clyde's, home of the 3/4 lb. Clydeburger. The pics are all courtesy of Ian.

2010-10-02T10:06:00.000-04:00

2010-10-02T10:05:00.000-04:00

2010-10-02T10:04:00.000-04:00

2010-10-02T10:02:00.000-04:00

my brother got married. i made a slideshow.

2010-09-20T22:11:00.000-04:00

For Boogaloo

2010-09-01T10:36:00.000-04:00

2010-08-09T16:06:00.001-04:00

DREAD IS NOTHING BUT THE FEELING OF THE POSSIBLE.

Friedrich Nietschze

2010-08-06T15:51:00.001-04:00

"I teach you the overman. Man is something that shall be overcome. What have you done to overcome him? … All beings so far have created something beyond themselves; and do you want to be the ebb of this great flood, and even go back to the beasts rather than overcome man? What is ape to man? A laughing stock or painful embarrassment. And man shall be that to overman: a laughingstock or painful embarrassment. You have made your way from worm to man, and much in you is still worm. Once you were apes, and even now, too, man is more ape than any ape.... The overman is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: the overman shall be the meaning of the earth.... Man is a rope, tied between beast and overman—a rope over an abyss … what is great in man is that he is a bridge and not an end."

Read all about it in GoNomad.

2010-07-26T12:35:00.002-04:00

Tinhorn Tyranny in Turkmenistan

2010-07-22T10:23:00.000-04:00

YELLOWSTONE REUNION JUNE 2010

2010-07-22T10:19:00.001-04:00

2010-07-22T10:17:00.000-04:00

2010-07-22T10:14:00.001-04:00

One of the buffalo that caused an hour-long traffic jam.

Rainbow over Turgid Falls.

2010-07-22T09:57:00.002-04:00

Luli's and my amazing pizza night. It hit us in the eye.

The whole group.

2010-07-06T15:59:00.001-04:00

No amount of coffee, no amount of crying
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No, nothing else will do
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you.

Four Ewe

2010-06-10T09:36:00.002-04:00

You are tired,

(I think)

Of the always puzzle of living and doing;

And so am I.

Come with me, then,

And we'll leave it far and far away-

(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,

(I think)

And broke the toys you were fondest of,

And are a little tired now;

Tired of things that break, and-

Just tired.

So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,

And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart-

Open to me!

For I will show you the places Nobody knows,

And, if you like,

The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!

I'll blow you that wonderful bubble the moon,

That floats forever and a day;

I'll sing you the jacinth song

Of the probable stars;

I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,

Until I find the Only Flower,

Which shall keep (I think) your little heart

While the moon comes out of the sea.

ee cummings

TAKE CINQUE= ITALIAN (montenegro)

2010-06-03T09:55:00.004-04:00

The uppermost video, "TAKE CINQUE= ITALIAN", is actually the last in The Quintology.

I just blogged it in the wrong order. Oops! WATCH IT LAST

(OR DON'T WATCH IT AT ALL IF YOU CAN'T MAKE IT THROUGH 5 SHOT DEDICATIONS TO YOURS TRULY. )

And thanks to Anna and Evan (and Frida), for making my dream of causing people to get belligerently drunk from thousands of miles away come true.

TAKE DUE= RUSSIAN (vodka)

2010-06-03T09:20:00.003-04:00

TAKE UNO= AMERICAN (jameson)

2010-06-03T09:20:00.001-04:00

TAKE TRE= SPANISH (tequila)

2010-06-03T09:19:00.001-04:00

PARTE QUATTRO= SWEDISH (flavored vodka)

2010-06-03T09:19:00.000-04:00

2010-06-02T15:30:00.000-04:00

Last Weekend's Bobsled to Amsterdam

2010-06-02T15:25:00.001-04:00

MEMORIAL DAY 2010 AT E TAW (WHAT WHAT?)

SHACK ATTACK III

2010-06-02T15:20:00.002-04:00

THE UNCLES AND I FOUGHT TICKS TO CANOE THE EAST BRANCH OF THE ONTONAGON RIVER AND DO SOME OTHER HIKES.

2010-06-02T15:07:00.001-04:00

The Genius of the Crowd

2010-04-22T23:16:00.002-04:00

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

-Charles Bukowski