The next 10 books I've read this year...that puts me at 20 for those keeping track...

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man of my dreams

i love you.

On Wings of Wrath

A couple of days ago I was walking M through the neighborhood when we approached the block of S.9th and S.10th between Wythe and Berry. After living in this neighborhood for 7 years, we've certainly been past this way before, but not in some time. The first thing i recall noticing when approaching the area was a sharp, repetitive caw. A noise that I now recognize as an all-too-serious warning, but at the time it felt like city background to me. Upon crossing the street onto the block, the next thing I noticed was being dive-bombed by a bird. Not once. Not in passing. But continuously for the length of the block. This bird would swoop down on us as we walked and then cut back up and re-perch in a tree along the path, readying for another pass and all the while shouting her warning. Initially I found it amusing. Probably because M seemed to be the main object of the aggression. I've grown used to just about everyone in the neighborhood thinking M is some sort of feral beast simply because of how he looks, and since M didn't seem to react too much to the bird I didn't either. Eventually the block ended and the crazy bird remained on her turf. Unusual animal behavior. It happens, I thought, and we continued on our walk.

This morning M and I once again crossed the DMZ into the bird's territory. The siren caw began. She knew it was us and was to make certain we would think twice about ever walking this way again. The attacks began and with more intensity. Not only did she reign down on M, close enough this time to make him jump; she also zeroed in on me. I could feel the air from her feathers as she swooped an inch away from my bare neck. I instinctively lurched forward to avoid contact. My senses were now on fire. The attacks were more frequent and her retreats not as remote as before. After buzzing one of us she'd slowly pull back and sit on the fence next to us, merely feet away. We turned the corner, but she continued the salvo, her war cry steady. A couple of times I turned to face her and we stood still eyeing each other. I wondered what it would be like to smack a bird out of the air. But before I could fully form the idea she attacked again and we resumed being pushed out of her claim. Finally we had reached the end of her roost. She stood perched high on a wire watching to make sure we didn't return. A woman from across the street was laughing at us. She said she watches that bird chase people off the block all day long. She has a nest there and she's protecting her young. I guess even in Brooklyn, nature sometimes prevails.

cats. with bowties.

horseshoe crab. stuck.

poor guy. it took him like 30 min to right himself. i like the top picture where he is grabbing onto a piece of seaweed to pull himself up. that didn't work.

summer in BK...pics by Caleb

summer in BK...pics by JK

dream home

103 Broadway, Brooklyn, NY

some day...

Where in the World Cup?

I'm rooting for Higerie, but Angontima has a really good squad this year.

London Pub Life

I don't know why he was dressed up like Sponge Bob. Maybe it was to help soak up all 18 of his drinks.

for JK

wonderful weekend

Krylon Pissing Contest

I've taken a new job that is headquartered in Camden Town, London. On one of my first visits there back around late March, early April, I noticed the above graffiti along Regent's canal on my walk to the office, along with this piece...

Originally, they looked different. The roller-headed stork was erasing some text directed at Banksy about 'it being too late for that, mate' or something referencing an earlier statement. The little boy had hooked a white placard with the image of a fish inside the red circle-slash icon on it. Over the next couple of weeks I noticed these images were being written and painted over, so I asked the team in the office what the deal was. Apparently, Banksy wrote over a very famous and very old tag by old-school London graff god Robbo. (read more about the start of this feud, and Robbo, here) Robbo is more of a proper tagger. He doesn't do a lot of stencil art, mostly just writes his name on trains and buildings. He was very inactive for the last decade or so and is mostly known during the 80's and 90's I think. Anyway, Banksy wrote over one of the oldest standing pieces of Robbo's. That, apparently, is a big no-no in the graff world. So Robbo woke up and started tagging over Banksy's pieces. Now we get to watch them argue along the city's walls! Screw the World Cup! Who are you picking? Banksy's clever, gallery-friendly satire, or Robbo's principled, old-school gruff? Who get's the first book deal out of this? The first gallery show? London, this is war!!

Also, and I find this to be pretty funny, there was a big deal in the neighborhood here towards the end of last week. The back beer garden of this pub down the street was apparently the lastest canvas for Banksy. The landlord was originally furious until his wife explained to him that it was now worth a fortune. Remember King Midas? A coworker took me to the pub friday after work. We asked a cop on the corner where it was, and he jokingly asked if we had spray paint. When we got a drink and went to the back garden, someone made the joke that we would have to pay them 5 quid to look at the wall. I know, these jokes are hilarious. So we gave the wall a quick look, decided it was quite possibly fake, that it didn't matter either way, and sat down at an empty table to talk. In the time it took us to finish our drink, probably 5 people came down specifically to gawk at the wall. A photographer came in to shoot it from different angles and measure it's size. Someone from the bar was showing people around it. We decided a second drink would be had elsewhere. The odd thing was, this place was a completely middle class, quiet pub in a semi-posh neighborhood. This is where Banksy is working now? It's like tagging a suburban Applebee's or something. Seemed odd, but maybe that's the point. Below is an image of the wall. Too me it doesn't look like a Banksy stencil, but what do I know. I recognize the balloon girl. She's one of his characters. The thing that struck me funny is i could see that it was mostly brushed on, not sprayed, especially the parts over the mirrors. The coverage was bad. The writing looks like his, but the rest seems strange. You can decide if it's Banksy or not. The pub has decided it is, whether or not it ends up being denied by his publicist, who at this point is making no comment. You see, having a Banksy on the wall suddenly makes the place cool and worth more.

The guy in black works for the pub, the guy writing on the wall is the photographer making notes. I have no idea why it says "Run For Your Lives!!!". We merely walked out after the first drink.

"And then Dorothy gave the cowardly lion a heart!"

10 books i read this year (2010)

1. We Did Porn - Zak Smith

this book is awesome. it's thoroughly entertaining the whole way through and provides a fantastic look into the porn industry littered with much commentary on the contemporary art industry. i like smith's humour a lot and find him to be appropriately self-deprecating.

2. If I Die In A Combat Zone - Tim O'Brien

i've read all of o'brien's non-fiction and some fiction and i love it all. this is a really touching trip through o'brien's experiences in vietnam. i love war writing and war films and this is definitely up there. i'd have to say The Things We Carried is the best of o'brien's work, but this is a quick and tangible read.

3. Hardwired - Walter Jon Williams

picked this one up bc the cover was totally sweet and the summary made it sound all cyber[unk and post-apocalyptic. it's definitely cyberpunk i guess, but just pales wildly when compared to anything like neuromancer or snowcrash. i honestly wouldn't recommend it.

4. Freefall - Oran Canfield

now this one i do recommend, and heartily. written by my friend oran, it's a riveting journey through his life as a child juggler, musician, drug addict etc., and eventually becoming a really amazing human being. you feel so much compassion as you read and then just when thing seem really dark there are perfect interjections of dry, wry humour. love it.

5. The Ministry of Fear - Graham Greene

i love graham greene and have read quite a handfull of his books thus far. the quiet american is my all-time fav of his, but each one is pretty great in and of itself. this one doesn't disappoint, and yet it seems like greene just wasn't quite there yet the way he is in the quiet american or the end of the affair.

6. Persuasion - Jane Austen

didn't see that one coming, didya? i'm an austen fan, i mean, what girl isn't? this one was pretty good, but no P&P. the main character had this great love when she was younger, they couldn't be together because of social standing crap, then he reapperas years later and is an accomplished naval officer and now it's acceptable for them to be together. but is there still anything there? do any sparks remain? it's entertaining and worth the read for any austen fan, but like i said, it's no P&P.

7. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies - Seth Graham-Smith & Jane Austen

this book is awesome and completely hilarious. it still has the elizabeth-mr. darcy story at the heart of it, but along with that is a lot of zombie slaying and hilarious remarks about the deadly arts. i was thoroughly entertained. sense and sensibility and sea monsters is next.

8. Bodily Harm - Margaret Atwood

this is the kind of book i'd like to read on a lazy beach vacation or by the pool. funnily enough the main character is on a trip to an island in the caribbean, writing a travel piece for a magazine. but it's not a super tourist-friendly place and she gets involved in local politics and such and ends up in jail. nothing too deep or remarkable, but good pool-side reading. atwood has done better.

9. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood

this is more the atwood i recognize. dystopian future, explorations into feminism and what it means to be female. good stuff. it's no blind assassin, but still worth a go.

10. Enduring Love - Ian McEwan

an interesting and fairly entertaining novel largely about stalking, obsession, psychology. some people witness an accident together and in trying to piece some things together one of the dudes becomes obsessed with the main character and starts stalking him. the main character goes a little crazy himself and becomes kind of obsessed with his stalker. this drives a wedge between him and his wife, who doesn't understand or really believe in the stalker. this was my first introduction to McEwan, aside from seeing the movie Atonement, and i'll definitely be back for more.

i drew a shoe!

my first original shoe design. who wants a pair?

Found In Trash ~

Someone's definitely got their gansta lean on today.

For A ~

Sonnet 116

SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

William Shakespeare

cool.

Remember these?

Space Invaders.

Galaga.

Arkanoid.

My friend used to have an emulator and after a night out on the town we'd go back to his place around 4am and play Arkanoid for a few hours. Then I'd walk home the 3 blocks on Lorimer as the sky was getting rosy and wake up 6 hours later and go have brunch. Good times....One time we even went to Barcade to play. But playing classic arcade games in the privacy of your own home is definitely superior to doing it surrounded by a bunch of ironical hipsters at a bar that (i think) only serves beer. Like 700 kinds of beer. and I don't drink beer. But they do have some tasty chips there that they don't sell anywhere else in NY.

Hevisaurus, a kiddie metal dinosaur band from Finland!

These kids totally stole my idea for a band. Apparently they are totally the new hotness.

found on dlisted

"Tyrant King" Leech Discovered, Attacks Orifices

Toothy new T. rex saws into eyes, rectums and so on.

I like how they add this little plug at the end

"The discovery of the presumably rare leech also highlights how species can be lost to the "incredible threat" that is Amazon deforestation"

which doesn't entirely make sense....but OK.

Secrets about me...

Here's a few secrets about me that no one really knows, except for maybe my hole in a tree.

1. i love the way sneezing feels
2. i dance in elevators to the music on my ipod when no one else is there
3. i can imagine smell memories in my mind and then actually physically smell the odor
4. i associate things with certain colors (probably a minor case of synesthesia), thus i color code everything at work for organizational purposes. if something is labeled with the wrong color i become very unnerved. and if someone uses one of my colored markers/pens and doesn't put it back i get really pissed.
5. when i was little i wanted to be a paleontologist when i grew up. i thought i'd be Indiana Jones, but with dinosaurs.

a hole in a tree. a place to put secrets.

The joy of reading...

I just wrote this whole post about books and reading and how awesome they are and how I was totally deprived of English books here in Suisse. And then something F-ed up and I lost it all! So I'm pissed and I'm not retyping it. It was full of images and hyperlinks and hearty witticisms. F you blogger. So all you're getting now is a picture of books. I love them. And I will never take used book stores full of English books for granted again.

The Duality of Man

Cully the Arm

Black Tooth Grin.

Merc 67 jacket.

the mind of a savant bent on dangerous literature.

do not fuck with Cully the Arm.

Snow Day!

Of Elevators...

Never safe from Paparazzi.

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Graphic Tee?

Wolves are popular, especially amongst the 'hipster' crowd, or anyone wishing to be ironic. And it is irony. If any of the girlfriend's jeans-wearing cats in my neighborhood actually saw a wolf they would promptly soil themselves and run as fast as their Chuck Taylors would allow. How do I know this? M.

M.

M is my dog. I know you think your dog is cool, but M is cooler. M is the coolest dog ever. Don't dispute me. M actually has more friends than I do. Half the friends I have only hang out with me because of M. They call up at night to see if he has plans and if he can come out with them. As if he he had any other events scheduled for the evening besides chewing his bone and being cool.

M, as you can see above, resembles a black wolf. He's of considerable size and looks hungry. He likes the hunger. It keeps the fear up. Anyway, we can't get 10 feet out of our front door without someone running away from M. Grown men, children, women with heavy handbags; they all flee to the other side of the street like I'm walking an alligator (and where are the alligator tee-shirts?). This week I saw a woman turn her face to the wall and make the sign of the cross when she saw him. I'm not joking. All of this in the epicenter of ironic, wolf-loving, hipster America. What's a dog like M to do? I mean, given the amount of wolf merchandise, wolf-named bands and self given wolf nicknames (guilty!) that abound, that dog should be mayor of this town. But it's alright. M is happy. He doesn't mind the discrimination. He's simply content to be awesome, chase a squirrel and howl at the passing fire trucks. Truth is, he's a complete sweetheart. With teeth.

So why post about this now? I've had M for over 5 years, surely by now we're used to the irrational fear of the villagers. And that Three Wolf Moon tee-shirt has long been around the internet and written into your favorite tv sitcoms. No, I write this now because there have been new developments on the ironic wildlife front. New evidence being passed around the interwebs suggests that the wolf has combined forces with some of nature's other intimidating species. He put the call of the wild out there and they have rallied to the cause.

Get your tee-shirts printed up.

Scribble down some potential band names.

If you own a van you may want to airbrush this on the side of it.

No one will be safe from this power trio. No one.

Run for your lives.