I'm sitting here in the sky-high, semi-demolished offices of The Daily Growler and I'm fiery full of wanting to write but still a little too sawdust headed to concentrate too thoroughly on anything more high-brow than the game of baseball. I'm working on my favorite laptop today--I haven't used it in months--I've been working on the G4 Mac, which is performing these days as though that decadent chip these crooks put in these machines has been activated--you know, the chip blows out your hard drive or cooks the works so you have to run out and buy a newer model--a G5 in my case, which I'd love to have but don't really need since my G4's doing just fine for the time being (that's a noun; a place name; a place called time being--and that place called Time Being must be in the Land of Right Now, right?). But I love my laptop, a Toshiba Tecra--totally out of date but Toshiba laptops are so good and sturdy and smooth as glass to use, they last beyond the future shock of all the latest new models. All corporate creative geniuses love rebranding every six months--and this is true even in the pharmaceutical advertising industry, which I know a lot about since I am an advertising genius and have been since I was a toddler in my baby crib with my dad playing his Fats Waller records right in my baby ears. Brands must be changed every six months. It might just be a minor packaging change--you know to stay with the brand's iconic attraction but maybe with a new color background--and everything in the advertising world was originally conceived in PhotoShop--an application that has revolutionarily changed the art world--check out how many photographers and paint artists work in PhotoShop unabashedly these days--in fact, some of them brag on their Websites that they do work in PhotoShop--whose tools and effects are so recognizable to a person with a good ear for good art--a static sort of cultural mess the same as the recording industry is in now with all this iPod shit and MP3 rebrandings and upgrades and constant upgrading even if the upgrading apprears in the advertising as a tagline that simply says, "Now with more speed!" That's all you need to change a branding. "Now with more speed." The Yahoo looking for a new computer for instance maybe would see that tag on say the Apple Webpage--"The radically new Mac G1000 now has more speed!" Whoaa the Yahoo says, I just bought my Mac G1000-proto and already I gotta buy a new one--but, I guess so, 'cause I damn right want more speed." Yahoos!
Me, I resist being a Yahoo, dammit, a blind follower, a lemming, an obeyer just because I'm told I gotta obey--"This is a nation of laws..." No it's not; it's a nation of people, called "We the people" in the Constitution (I know it's moldy and rotten in a lot of places, but I don't want these last-standing, Custer-dumb white leaders messing with it and making it read where it's "I the People," F the rest of US.
So I was scribbling on the Toshiba laptop and as I was I was listening to the Yankees-A's game on The Daily Growler staff-use-only radio, a cheap piece of Commie Chinese, sweatshop-assembled crap. It was the fifth inning and the Yankees were losing 4-0 and were being hung out to dry by another of these young rookie pitchers these old worn-out Yankee stars can't figure out so they stand there and whiff away at every pitch that comes at 'em--they can't hit--they can't score runs--the irony: the Yankees have the highest on-base percentage in the Majors--and then Melky Cabrera got the Yankees's first hit and suddenly this F-ing piece of made-in-Commie-China crap radio develops the most agonizingly irritating buzz---Jesus--I flipped, yowled, yipped, and then went for some throats and they finally shut the son of a bitch off--F the Yankees--and, by the bye, they went on to lose today 7-0--as far as I know since I turned the damn game off in the bottom of the ninth with the A's leading 7-0. The Japanese whiz kid who some scout of the Yankees who's madly in love with bringing Japanese players to New York at millions of dollars only to have most of these Japanese kids prove total failures over here--especially the pitchers. The Yankees blew 40 million on a Japanese geek named Hi-dee-ho or some such name, you all remember him, won 6 in a row and was being trumpeted as the next Nelson "L"yan in the MLs and then never won another game, at least that's how it seemed to me--and soon that Japanese whiz was gone--totally disappeared, but with all his solid gold jiveass chains and a bank account chocked full of good old New York City hard-earned dollars spent at the Yankees games--5 million bucks a game going into George Steinbrenner's tacky Philistine pockets--and that don't include the teevee money, the concession monies--whoooo boy, the Yankees are a team that has plenty of money--they draw an average of 50,000 a game--and that, folks, is phenomenal. No other city in the MLB draws that well; the Dodgers draw well and the Mets are beginning to draw well, but the other cities--one doesn't really no, do one?
The Yankees are a team full of ironies this year--enough to drive a Yankees fan batty as old Albert Belle used to be--makes you angry enough you want to destroy poor old Kenny Lofton's boombox--or as Bob Marley sang, "I feel like bombin' a church...." That's being pissed the baseball lunatic way, a la Jim Piersall...Eddie Waitkus...Jim Bunning (now a US politician). First off, the Oakland A's came to New York having lost their last 9 out of 10 games--same as San Francisco had lost 9 in a row when the Yankees hit town and they beat the Yanks 2 out of 3. Irony #godzillion, the Yankees, who were supposed to be the hittingest team in baseball this year--and they still have three players hitting well over .300, and A-Rod is having a phenom year, 28 home runs and 78 RBIs and an on-base percentage of .400--and still this team can't score runs. The joke among Yankees diehard fans is, "Well, how many did the millionaires leave on base tonight?"
So I turned off the Yankee game and went out to eat. The Mexicans were there again and soon the cervezas were being sucked down like raw eggs on a hangover morning and we got to talking soccer and the Americas Cup down in Venezuela and tomorrow night Mexico meets Argentina and HOOOOOO-boy that's gonna be a big one--and I teased the Mexicans about how they're all gonna be in church all night tonight praying to La Senora to be with the superstitious Mexicanos and put a hex on those bloody damn Argentinians--bastardos! Mama mia, there's gonna be some Mexicans mucho borocho en la noche este Domingo and I will be one of them. By the end of the evening whether Mexico won or got their clocks cleaned we'll be singing those old La musica classicos--why, heck fire, I may even try to sing the coda to "Guadalajara"--Arriba!
And now it is evening and I'm back in mi adobe hacienda in the heart of Manhattan Island. All is calm. We are sitting peacefully waiting for the next al-Queda attacks--I got this gut feeling something really colossally stupid is gonna be dumped on us New York Citians again soon. According to the London cops--and they're never wrong either--remember the poor French dude from Martinique, wasn't it who the London cops shot because he looked like a terrorist?) (I've been to Martinique one time and damn I'd like to go back--it was a kind of a tragic paradise--though Club Med had pretty much contaminated it with "conspicuous consumption" even by the time I went traipsing across it with my young, bounteous wife, driving a Land Rover back when Land Rovers were still made in Merry Ole England by a company actually called Land Rover--and they also made the Rover, one of the finest cars ever built by the good car craftsmen of the British Empire--but now, the Land Rover is owned by Ford who's desperate to get rid of that branch of their failing company--the global marketplace was invented by American corporations; yet, in spite of all their jolly world-wide mergering, how come so many of them are now splitting and diversifying and selling off divisions and shit like that--Ford, Henry Ford was said to be the world's first billionaire, is now broke? Yep, folks, our whole industrial complex is broke--everything the American mixing-pot creative whizzes invented, you name it, we either invented it or stole the invention and said we invented it, has been sold at auction on the global marketplace of devious tricks and bamboozles. Just think of the billions and billions upon billions of dollars being flushed into the global marketplace. Just think of the billions upon billions of dollars this country wastes--look at Atlantic City and Vegas at the literally billions upon billions of dollars they fleece every single day off the Yahoos of the world who actually believe they are going to strike it rich in one of those El Dorado cities--and do you ever see a list of just how many people actually do win rich-making jackpots every year in AC and Vegas? Hell no. That list is too small to print. The only people getting rich in those two burgs are the Mafia, the various government agencies involved, and the various Mafia and government stooges heading up these personal empires--Vegas especially. Vegas is where you build a 10 billion dollar hotel one week and blow it to smithereens the next week and replace it with a 20 billion dollar hotel.
Currently the world is being covered with hotels. Have you been noticing this? New York City this year alone is getting 22,000 new hotel rooms. You figure 300 rooms to a hotel: that's 73 new hotels going up in this town. And god do I hate tourists. I've seen the tourist industry ruin New Orleans and ruin Santa Fe, New Mexico. The cultures are what make towns like those two unique in this country and yet the tourist industry wants to simulate these cultures, make them plastic samples of what was once a livable reality--I mean, you went to New Orleans at one time to soak in the culture there and the arts and crafts and musics that culture gave birth to--now you go to New Orleans to get drunk, act stupid, look polyester Yahooish to the bone, and certainly only respect the plastic souvenirs that now replica that old real culture in crummy plastics and when you flip 'em up and check their bases, yep, sure enough, there you read "Made in Communist China." We have successfully "junked" our country. We are the world's biggest junkies!
Now, go to the bottom of this post and read the latest bullshit about the "al-Queda" gas attack in London--in those new Mercedes cars--here's an article about it--please don't laugh you're ass off, it's serious business letting these bumbling cop types decide which of us is a terrerist or not--why, one day, we'll wake up and all of us we'll be considered Al-Queda--cop car sirens are wailing madly around NYC tonight--everytime London finds one of their sensational al-Queda bomb threats, the NYPD come out in pot-bellied, AKA-totin' force--"showing their presence." Such bullshit. But anyway, the truth about the faux al-Queda attacks are coming to the surface--go below and read.
for The Daily Growler
A Word of Advice
Instead of wasting your time watching the Repugnican and Neo-Con points of view on Sunday morning "news" television--that of pig-jowled Tim Russert (he better keep an eye on his ticker--he's really plumping up--and he's a redface anyway--WATCH OUT, TIM, the big one may be landing on your heart's fat-clogged airfield anyday now) and old "Meet the Press" sponge-face Floyd or whatever his old has-been name is--they'll have Ed Rollin on this weekend maybe--or maybe they'll dig G. Gordon Liddy up--so, yes, instead of watching that shit, click on The Daily Howler Monday afternoon and read Brother Bob's catchy and very astutely witty comments on the manipulations of facts and lies that goes on voraciously every day on the media cock and bullshit commentary and whack-job shows--all with their breads buttered on the Repugnican and Neo-Con sides. The trouble with getting rich in this country: heart attacks and cancers. Joel Siegel, a guy I never ever took seriously, died today of cancer--nor did I ever take Roger "Valley of the Dolls" Ebert seriously either--and Roger is recovering from a bout with cancer--and he looks like holy warmed over shit now, too--or he had a stroke or something, naw, I don't really know what happened to that poor blubbery talentless boy who thought he had a great ear of filmmaking and what makes a film great or what makes a film a total waste of time, money, and energies (most of 'em, if you want my biased opinion).
I don't know; I just can't get it up for these guys's demises right now. My attitude is, well, at least these two dudes were filthy rich and got the best voodoo treatment possible in terms of medical care--though I'm sure Siegel died suffering the same pain the volunteers who cleaned up after 9/11 are suffering too as they die of cancer and they will soon totally be forgotten while Joel Siegel's bullshit legacy gets to live on in the spider-webbed confines of the ABC Network storage cesspool (their archives).
I heard one comment today on Joel Siegel by one of his cohorts at ABC or wherever it was he worked. I don't really remember; I'd lost track of him since he used to sometimes appear on the Howard Stern Radio Show and Howard would make fun of him maliciously greatly. Joel Siegel mimicked Jerry Colona and Avery Schreiber--look 'em up; they both look like Joel Siegel--Joel wasn't an orginal, in other words. Sorry, Joel, but you smoked cigarettes cause you thought they fit in your Hollywood-party-nightly lifestyle "Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette/smoke, smoke, smoke until you smoke yourself to death/ tell Saint Peter at the Golden Gate/that you hates to make him wait/ but you just gotta have another cigarette" [Tex Williams!!! And guess how Tex died?]
Such a phony F-ing world--except in Iraq and Afghanistan and Darfu and Northern Nigeria and in the Sudan and in Somalia and in the West Bank and in Gaza and in the Lebanon Palestinian refugee camps. Ain't no phony baloney in those places; it's real as real hell there.
for The Daily Growler
The Al-Queda Attacks in London
Gas canister bomb 'an amateur job'
Friday June 29, 2007
The builders of the bomb found in central London today would have probably been "keen amateurs", an explosives expert said.
Patio gas cylinders found by police in the light green Mercedes would have been an unlikely weapon for experienced terrorists unless they wanted to create a fireball for the cameras, Sidney Alford, founder of explosives company Alford Technologies, told Guardian Unlimited.
As a readily available combustible material, the propane gas held in such cylinders might be considered by someone unable to source high explosives.
"If you are making a bomb and you are limited in the amount of explosives you can acquire you could easily get some gas cylinders of propane to add to them. They would give a more impressive fireball on TV," he said.
"They are probably keen amateurs who could not get their hands on the real thing and do not realise the limits of what they are doing."
The Metropolitan police's head of anti-terrorism, Peter Clarke, said there was also a "significant quantity" of petrol and nails in the car, as well as the gas. A witness reported nails were lying on the floor of the car, which Mr Alford said was another indication the bomb makers were inexperienced.
"Nails could be considered as an additional way of extending the potential damage and lethal range of the device but putting them on the floor is an incompetent way of building a bomb. They would go straight into the ground," he said.
Mr Alford said that unless there were also explosives present the main impact of the device would be in the economic disruption caused by closing off the normally bustling shops, restaurants and businesses of central London.
"As the IRA knew, you do not need a real bomb to cause real havoc," he said.
Police said the "potentially viable explosive device" was made safe. Mr Clarke said that had it exploded there could have been "significant injuries or loss of life".