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When you live on a low plowing priority side street like I do, I've found it's
important to make the most of every last bit of momentum you have.
International fingerstyle class went about thrity minutes today, at least
for me because I got there half an hour late, due to having to clear off all
the snow and having to negotiate unplowed streets. Also, getting up five
minutes before class was going to start because I played online poker all
night probably had something to do with it.
Then, we ended kind of early. I hate when these teachers do that and give
the reason that we're shorthanded. Why should I get less learnin' because
someone else didn't show?
On the other hand, this week's lesson was pretty easy and neat. I got 75% of
it right away. I'm not a great sight reader, but compared to most guitarists,
who aren't big on the readin', I'm decent.
It was an Egyptian song, originally written for oud.
I forgot the name of the song, but it was one that would make the Department
of Homeland Security raise the terror alert level if you spoke it to them.
It's somber and does this neat thing in which the bass line moves first,
then the melody (composed of dyads) moves next. Perhaps I'll jam it out for
the people later.
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My car is looks vaguely like an igloo with wheels.
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Well, I didn't get utterly clobbered, but damn! I cannot figure these folk
out, and pure odds-based judgment doesn't seem to be effective enough.
I think the opponents at the 5-10 tables at Harrah's are easier than the
online players at the 0.50-1 tables. It's too bad I don't think I can't really risk the
$200-$300 you need for each trip to the 5-10 tables more than a few times a
year.
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I've been learning a song by Joseph
Spence, a uniquely talented fingerstyle Bahaman folk guitarist. Most people are impressed
by his guitar playing, but not so much by his singing, which is largely
gravelly and garbled.
However, surprisingly, Jack Viertel provides an academic defense of his vocals:His
voice, also inimitable, is used more as a secondary instrument than as a
means for communicating words. It provides a solid, if somewhat gravelly,
base for the guitar's fluid lines to play off of and frequently serves as a
reminder of how the basic melody of a given piece goes, when the guitar
variations have become almost too complex to follow. This is exactly
what I say about a lot of death metal vocals. Some bands have death vocals
that are so awesome that if the songs contained nothing but that, they would still be
worthwhile listening. But generally, the vocals are there to add texture and
give you something to follow. The vocals aren't the be-all end-all.
Just like Joseph Spence.
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At the Subway soft drink serving center, I got some pink lemonade, but I needed a pick-me-up, so I sglorshed
in a dose of Mountain Dew.
The result? Lemonade with a bad aftertaste. It tasted like someone slipped
some kind of date rape drug into my drink.
I'd seem to forget about it seconds after each sip, though. Therefore, after
each sip, I was like, "WTF?! [pause] Oh. Yeah."
In other Subway news, they squished and wrinkled my bread. Goddamn. That was
some ugly-looking bread.
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After showing a clip of Bush talking up the fecund hordes of evil, constantly
growing and ready to pop over our border at any second:
"Was he just sworn in as president or dungeon master?"
--Jon Stewart
And surprisingly, the audience seemed to get it!
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Heh, sure. I guess I can roll with that.
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It's probably partly fueled by the fact that I'm doing some supremely
unpleasant and boring work right now, but I think I'd really like to take a year off
pursuing unprofitable activities sometime after I've saved up enough. You
might say, "But why blow your savings in a year (or maybe two), especially given that you
have a reasonable job?"
Hmm. I'm not quite sure, but it seems like even when you work only nine
hours a day, you don't have enough energy left to explore anything at any
length and seriousness.
[ Thinking aloud about escaping mundanity. ]
Seriously, though, I've got to come up with a real plan sometime soon. I know
for certain I'm not going to derive much non-financial satisifaction from
being a software architect or a development manager or a lifelong coder, so
I gotta come up with something. I'm not being tortured by work anymore, but I'm starting to get sick of floating.
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http://in.news.yahoo.com/050116/139/2j1rp.html
Jubilant at seeing the relief trucks loaded with food, clothes and the
much-needed medicines the villagers, many of who have not had a square meal
in days, were shocked when the nuns asked them to convert before distributing biscuits and
water. I have to give those villagers credit - I would have just lied
about converting to get the water.
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There's got to be a sizable number of disappointed MSN Search users out
there. This site is the top result for the search "suck
and fuck". The other search results on that first page are similarly
disappointing. Maybe MSN search is an all-clean search engine or something.
Either way, I think Google delivers
something that's closer to what that guy from Canada who hit this site was
looking for.
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Hoping that some text you've copied into the clipboard is still there,
hitting ctrl-V, and...POW! seeing it pasted out.
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This time, I flipped the alarm clock to "set alarm" to make sure it was at
8:30 AM or so and went to bed.
Today, I got up on my own, looked at the clock, and thought, "Hey, not bad. I don't think I've
ever gotten up this early on my own. Must be the warmth from the window insulation I put up
yesterday."
You know what's coming.
The alarm clock still said "8:30" because I left it on "set alarm" instead
of shifting it to either buzzer or radio mode. It was actually 1 PM.
Well, another lesson learned about the tricky game of getting early.
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I was just whaling away at the table and floor with a couple pencils and
feet, respectively, and having a pretty good time. (Probably making some
pretty annoying noise as well.)
For some reason, I imagined someone popping in, taking a picture of me, then
Photoshopping in a word balloon that said, "Duuuh! I'm playing the blast beat!"
Pretty unlikely, but it killed the buzz anyway.
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http://www.cardplayer.com/poker_magazine/arch...a_id=14293
Some rich guy challenged some of the top players in the world to a $100,000-$200,000 limit
game because he was pissed about rumors that they were making fun of him.
The game under the conditions he proposed would have put the other players at a
disadvantage because he could get lucky. The above is Doyle Brunson's response.
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Heh, Barry Greenstein has assigned values to different "poker attributes" to
several of the pros:
http://www.barrygreenstein.com/analysis.htm
Next, he should assign hit points to these guys.
Man, Phil Ivey appears quite unstoppable, statistically.
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From a message board:'My P.O. denied my request to go to see GWAR live.....Im pissed I've been
waitin on this concert since I was in the 6th grade watching Beavis and
Butthead...and Im denied...fucking...bullshit.
The thing is I decided to go the honest approach and tell this fuck why i'd
be late on curfew and all that....but yet, honelsty dont mean fuck to pigs...fuck cops...they all suck...if Im denied GWAR they all
suck. fuck cops
wjhat pisses me off is that I grew up on the songs Sadamn a Go-Go...Have You
Seen Me, Gor-Gore, Crack In The Egg, Cool Place To Park, Vlad The Impaler,
and Im gonna miss it all FUCK~!!!!!! [exclamation points truncated to save space] NOTHING i
CAN SAY CAN EXPRESS MY SORROW!' Damn, dude. I hate missing bands I like, too, so I empathize with the post almost as much
as I'm amused by it.
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A couple of cameos in the new Teen Girls Squad
captures perfectly:
- The essence of ska.
- The geometric aspects of school cafeteria pizza. (Click the 'o' at the end.)
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I was going to write a thoughtful review of A
Touch of Zen, but I had to work today and am not feeling particularly
intellectual. So instead, I'll just make some basic comments about it, accompanied by some
screenshots. such as:
Miss Yang is hot!
Also, she's very, very grim. As well she should be! The East Chamber is still
after her after killing her father. She doesn't smile until over an hour into
the movie. She does it while scoffing at the initial protagonist's (a nerdy scholar-type
for us to empathize with) combat abilities.
[ Kicking ass, blacksmithing. ]
The monks in this movie are also awesome.
Here's the wrong move to make in an encounter with monks:
[ How not to deal with monks in a movie. ]
You'd think that being more aggressive might help you out. But not really.
[ Attack with full power! ]
Here's some screenshots that I think would make good album covers:
[ Album covers ]
It's actually a thoughtful film, although I may have made it seem like a
rock 'em sock 'em-type film. (I happen to really like those types of films and have nothing
against them.) It just happens to have more than its share of awesome visuals.
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What would happen if you played some draw with Cheney, and what would the
promininent conservative voices out there say? Here's a very realistic simulation:
http://www.thepoorman.net/archives/002789.html#002789
Here's some of my favorite reactions:Alan Colmes: Mother says I mustn't play poker.
...
Brit Hume: It seems like some people are still playing poker like it's September 10th. Back then, you needed to have all your cards in order to
claim a straight. But, as we learned on that day, sometimes you won't have
perfect knowledge. Sometimes you have to learn to connect the dots, and see
the patterns which are not visible to superficial analysis of the type favored by the CIA and the State Department. Dick Cheney's skip straight is
a winning poker hand for the post-9/11 world. I'm going to have to remember
some of these arguments. "Skip straight." Heh.
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Walking from my car to class today, I was thinking, "Goddamn. I guess I will
actually buy a scarf and gloves today." When I got home and got inside, I
was going to give up on it. But then, I thought, That's not a Winning
Attitude. Not at all. Then, I shook my head at myself.
Off to Walgreens I went. They had gloves, but unfortunately, no normal scarves.
They had these things called Magical
Scarves, which looked like feather boas.
Ooh! Now I can ask someone if they had any non-magical scarves! I
thought. Then, I did, and I kept my dorky laughter silent.
A few aisles down, I heard this blonde Walgreens employee tell some guy that
her brother and his crew totally waited by this one punk's house all day and
he never showed up. Said punk is suspected of breaking into her mom's car.
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I saw a stack of books at a carrel in the library:
- Divorce for Dummies
- Secrets to Life Everyone Woman Should Know
- Some other books along those lines
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Heh, me, too. I was running late today, but still had a not unpleasant time moving those nine or so ...
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I love that look. Depending how late I am and how cold it is, I either dread pushing all that crap o...
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That's no good at all! I'm supposed to be crushing other things - other things should be crushing me...
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Law school will crush every ounce of moral fortitude you have and make you dead inside. I mean real...
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Oat bread, eh? Sounds hearty and more resistant to wrinkling.
The Dew indeed does not play ...
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Yeah, I would never soil my Dew that way...
As for the bread, I'm supposed to say it proll...
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The homey oat bread is the bomb diggy! That was a nasty sounding artificial beverage combo you put ...
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Yeah - I was surprised he's gotten back to publicly stating he's actually a Democrat.
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That was a great show. Lieberman was good. "High tolerance for pain." Heh.
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My parents think you should go to law school.
Not that I asked them, but I know that's what...
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Hmm. Although I want to be cool, the problem with that is that I am not enthusiastic about either th...
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Search Notes of Chaos
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