At long last...

hooray, here's the video from new york.

special thanks to andrea for hosting the file!!

See John rock.

This is John.

John plays in a band. The band is called Big Nurse. They like to play their songs. Play, Big Nurse, play! They like to travel far and wide and spread their message of love and hope. I like to hear John play. I can't hear John play. I have no money. I have no gas. If you have gas, you can hear John play. Here is where they play.

Mar 5 2005 9:00P	The Pilot Light	Knoxville, TN
Mar 6 2005 8:00P	House Show	Bowling Green, KY
Mar 7 2005 9:00P	Southgate House- Parlor	Newport, KY
Mar 8 2005 10:00P	Elbo's	Dayton, OH
Mar 9 2005 8:00P	Bernie's	Columbus, OH
Mar 12 2005 8:00P	Lemp Neigborhood Arts Center	St. Louis, MO
Apr 2 2005 9:00P	Angle Of View	East Nashville, TN

Big Nurse has a website. Code, Big Nurse, code! You can download some songs of love and hope. See their show. Dance.

Ode to Camden

[as promised]

magical magical magical weather, sunlight bathes our home

surely i'm up and up forever, sunlight bathes our home

keeping our life and limbs together sunlight bathes our home

back and forth the colours go, where it stops no one knows

sing and sing this together, sing and sing this at home

(amen)

hope you're having fun.

/thanks Clinic

contours of descent

...the hyperinflation itself resulted primarily from the collapse of the previous free market restructuring plan, as capital outflows led to a sharp currency devaluation. the devaluation meant that the price of imports rose dramatically, which in turn created the environment under which previously controlled domestic prices could also readily increase.

Hoo ha, and Welcome

Yes indeedy, here we are. Thanks LiveJournal, but I don't see any reason to have to pay for open source code in this Wonderful Blog Experiment of mine, and I hope I'm never associated with angsty 17-year-olds again.

onyx hit me in the face?

last night we returned to the Raygun for the Prudoosuh's Cup. this entailed consuming cans upon cans of PBR and listening to truly authentic (if not entirely original [yes, work it out]) beats. there were also two horribly misplaced she-hippies from UofR, but the the beats were the main focus of the evening.

it works this way. two amateur "producers" get up on the stage to sit and nod sagely when their beats are played for thirty seconds. it looked something like this:

not terribly exciting on the surface, but diversion spontaneously materialized via the two aforementioned attention-whores who danced around like drunken hippies/giraffes in a sea of utter darkness. i wish i had gotten a picture of these two so i could post it on TipsyBitches.com and make a quick buck, but i digress. as determined by the cries of the audience, the winner of these passive tete-a-tetes gets on the microphone and drops knowledge on top of their own beats and the heads of the audience. this guy demonstrates, and looks as though he's on FIRE AHHHH kidding that's just the exposure:



and then blah blah blah here's a different perspective, you can see one of the flower children near the front of the stage. i don't know why i keep bringing them up, they just really annoyed the hell out of me.

Nat's Bi-weekly Link Dump

hoo.ray.another.bi.weekly.link.dump

I've been lazy, here are some links.

• Who has their finger on the pulse of underground youth movements? Uhhh...Microsoft, that's who? What a bunch of crap.
  
  
• Ha ha ha ha look at the douche-bag.
  
  
• Ay mon, de bruvas an sistahs who talk de rasta are lame. But this is amusing; I'm "Judge Demus", wtf.
  
  
  
  
• An article that appeared in the L.A. Times a few days ago, and reason #1832 our Commander-in-Chief is a total shithead. Thanks Bush!!!
  
  
• Einstein's Theory of Relativity for dumb heds.
  
  
• More found shit, a spin-off link from the Found Tapes two weeks ago. The notes are teh funny.
  
  
  
  
• Angry at a coworker? Don't want to get the run-around from the senior execs? Try this. But note the last line near the bottom.
  
  
• Here's an etymological dictionary, it lists everything. Yes everything, I checked.
  
  
• At first I was like "beat-boxing cattle? Lame." But now I'm all like "Hey, neat." Requires audio.
  
  
• Though this guy still takes the taco, see above.

have a nice weekend

c'est mon cpu...

the photo FTP will not work until further notice. damn you norton, symantec, your cursed firewall, a weak wireless network, original-sized files due to laziness, low bandwidth and a couple of trojans I just found. but here's the "civil war" shot, elaborating on the theme of orange:



i suppose i should find a legit online photo service that isn't photobucket. or forget the whole thing entirely.

in other news,


------------------------------------------------------------
From:
Date: Wed, 16 Feb 2005 16:32:03 +0000 (GMT)
To: Nat Adams
Subject: RE: All the TVs in Town por la ukulele

OK here goes.

E G# C#m C
E G# C#m
F# B F# A Am E

Good luck!

Brett
--------------------------------------------------------

and now i'm all like "whatever man"

see here for pictures of the city, party, etc.

many that were taken are not included on the FTP. they may or may not be posted at a later date. the FTP may or may not be running at any given time, check back later if the latter.
-----------------------------------------------

update

my FTP server is fucked, try back later!

Enlightenment through Google, Part II

I didn't have to work today, my fingers are now blistered from all-day ukulele, and I'm one bored son of a bitch. Sorry mom.

I've been feeling rather confrontational recently, so here's some more Google fun with a slightly more edgy search string, "I don't even care if". Whatever. {sigh} And away we go...

• I don't even care if they don't win!
  
  
• I don't even care if THEY have guns.
  
  
• I don't even care if YOU have a gun.
  
  
• I don't even care if somebody only likes to sail in one wind type, and I certainly don't give one fecal expulsion if somebody spends every bit of their free time counting ounces, sanding fins, comparing specs, working on jibes, and reading crap like this.
  
  
• I don't care if he hate me, I don't even care if he broke my shit
  
  
• I don't even care if you are a billion dollar corporation after a freebie!
  
  
• I don’t even care if my vote counts to Harry Browne; I don’t know him, and I don’t consider him any more or less especially likeable than anyone else.
  
  
  
  
• I don't even care if you know how many disciples Jesus had.
  
  
• I don't care who you are - I don't even care if I agree with you - like the fella said today, just don't be evil to people.
  
  
• I don't even care if he gets the death penalty or not, I just want him to be miserable in jail for the rest of his life.
  
  
• I don’t even care if anyone reads this.
  
  
• I don’t even care if you’re camped out in the hair-splitting middle claiming you never notice gender at all.
  
  
• I don't even care if you thought you saw the future, since, when you told me about the dream, either a) you couldn't know if you saw the future since the future would have yet to happen, or b) you were lying.
  
  
  
  
• I don’t even care if Matt B already wrote that first sentence and you couldn’t give two tear-filled indie shits about rap music.
  
  
• I don't even care if NuTech brings back the porn stars!
  
  
• I don't even care if I ever talk to you again but your real friends (if you're even lucky enough to have those) should know that you
  aren't what you claim.
  
  
• I don't even care if you hate me (although I can't think of anything I've done to warrant it.)
  
  
• I don't even care if she sees this, but I like her so much, we have so much in common, she is beautiful.
  
  
• I don't even care if the termites defeat all of this.
  
  
• I don't even care if you got the bottle cause I got the BOWL.
  
  
  
  
• I don't even care if I go down for the accessory charge, this girl simply can't be in there, because she's holding my boys baby.
  
  
• I don't even care if nobody reads my page or drops me a line to say they do.
  
  
• I don't even care if I'm the only one in this thread defending this post; so be it.
  
  
• I don't even care if I forgot anything here.
  

{blink}

But this little ukulele's real....

For christmas I got an old ukulele. It is awesome.

That being said, if you ever need a surefire way to look like a total nancy, go to a serious music store and ask for books on beginner's ukulele. They won't even laugh, they'll just tell you to leave. After three different attempts I did end up finding a veritable trove of books for novices, and the one I got even came with a CD. Moreover, I've discovered plenty of websites suited to the beginner's needs, now I'm fucking set.



Current repertoire:
Little Brown Jug - trad.
Go Tell Aunt Rhody - trad.
something - los beatles, but minus that one riff
Breathe - yes, Pink Floyd
Everything That Rises Must Converge - handsome family, and surprisingly easy!
and I'm still working on London Calling

so send me $20 and I'll make you a goddamn CD because it doesn't get any harder core than churning out the Clash on nylon strings, fohcker.

hell.yes

Another weekend antique extravaganza

...

Nat's Weekly Link Dump

As banal as this whole temp thing is, I'm grateful for the opportunity to waste a large corporation's money on ever-increasingly ridiculous pursuits. I get paid $14/hr to look up my own ancestry, conduct ground-breaking research on "artistic" water tanks, and... screw it, this will just freak you out.

The lesson here is that chimpanzees are awesome, and so is this round-up of some (by no means all) of the more interesting cages in the internet freakshow I've stumbled upon over the past week:

• Some guy has recorded and posted found cassette tapes on his website. I'm a sucker for this sort of thing, just the other day I found some negatives in the grocery store parking lot, will post them when I don't have anything better to do than make a website devoted to them.
  
  
• Writing a novel? Sending death threats by mail? Use this name generator to come up with randomized names allegedly based on census data. Unfortunately I've been having a hard time with the character development of "Guy Nigh" and "Eve Sen".
  
  
• There's nothing funny about truly psychotic individuals, but every now and then you come across some poor idiot so quaint and absolutely goatshit crazy you just cubes makes infinity sense because 4 sides + top + bottom = square earth and barren children. Pray for humanity.
  
  
• Then again some ridiculous drivel is sanctioned by our elected officials and makes me want to laugh and kill someone at the same time. It was published on R-PA Rick "Dick" Santorum's website before people realized it makes him look like a conniving douche-bag and took it down.
  
  
• Speaking of which, www.sweetjesusihatebilloreilly.com. The name says it all.
  
  
• Here are some slow-speed videos of really quick shit. My favorite is "flabby thigh getting punched".
  
  
• Golly! [furrows brow] What the hell.
  
  
• How to hack Coke machines. WARNING: only for the truly l337 hax0rs w00t w00t!!! Pretty neat nonetheless.
  
  
• Flash animation done well.
  
  
• Flash animation done poorly.
  

time2dance, bitch

meh.

all.your.freedom

are.belong.to.us

Goths are alright.

Last night Peter and I attended Goth Night at a club deep within the sorrowful heart of our fair city. Far from the morose D&D NIN-listening slackers brooding on the bleakness of this life we remembered them being from high school, we found that goths are actually a pretty fun bunch.

When I say "a pretty fun bunch" what I really mean is "goth chicks are hot". I've always been a sucker for pale-skinned brunettes with tears tatooed on their faces, but slap a tight vinyl skirt on their forlorn loins and I'll sing KMFDM by moonlight anytime she commands it. Sure it might sound a bit sexist, but I never found Trent Reznor's screeching whines particularly stimulating until they were accompanied by the undulations of a corsette-wearing tangly-haired mistress of darkness out on the dancefloor.

Closer to God? No my dear Azrael, you're just really pretty.

Goth males are a different story altogether. On one hand we have the creepy guy in the white t-shirt and slacks who just lurks in the corner and looks faintly menacing all night like Dylan Klebold incarnate, and on the other we have the hardest-core Snow Nazi wearing fishnets, a mink coat and a military officer's hat rubbing his hands all over his pale sweaty chest like he was driving his own nine-inch nail into some young buck back in jolly old Stuttgart. And between these two extremes come everyone else, the fat goths and the black goths and the guy wearing the "Foetus" world tour t-shirt. Husker du, mein fraulen! Imagine the musical Cats but instead of cats the actors play dead mimes and instead of coming into the audience to sing and dance they just writhe around and write gloomy poetry on their LiveJournal.

It is a night of subtlety, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their pain. The ethereal one
awakes.

I don't know. They aren't all that bad, and to their credit they've got their hearts into it far more than the assholes who think that turning a baseball cap sideways gives them any sort of credibility in a youth sub-culture. I've certainly never met a mean one, and one of the only three bona fide goths I've ever had a real conversation with wanted to be a physician's assistant [Paging nurse Dark Chylde, please report to the maternity ward]. At the heart of the movement seems to be a sincere middle finger to the status quo and some scary skulls thrown in for good measure, but somewhere between Poe's "Annabelle Lee" and the Cure's latest album the movement became mired in a sinkhole of self-caricature. Hell, I was friends with a bunch of these kids in middle school before they went to the dark side, now they've found a niche just like everyone else and if it involves silver crosses and blood, big fucking deal. And perhaps beneath all my glorification of goth chicks is a latent desire to be a goth chick myself, like an after-school special where the kid in the wheelchair discovers that the treasure he's been looking for has been inside him all along.

No one feels my pain.


But this is just stupid.