More Blimps??!!?? What the #*%@?

So in perusing the local Craigslist for potential new moneymaking endevors, I came across this. Since this is bound to evaporate into the webmonster after too long, here's the text for future generations.

Feel free to skim...it's only amazing with the bizarre blimp mojo I'm dealing with at the moment.

Airship Pilot (Los Angeles, CA (Gardena, CA))

Be a part of the famous Goodyear tradition.

Are you an aviator who is passionate about flying? Are you an excellent communicator who is comfortable speaking to groups of people and the media? Do you have the outstanding management skills required to oversee the airship team? If this sounds like you, this could be your chance to pilot one of the world's most recognized symbols, the Spirit of America! This is a rare and exciting opportunity for a dedicated aviator to experience the control and handling of an aircraft as unique as the Goodyear blimp. Not only that, you will have the opportunity to earn your “Lighter-Than-Air Certification” as a Goodyear Blimp Pilot! Even if you already have it, you've got to admit that the chance to pilot one of the world's most recognized icons is just too great to pass up.

The Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company is as famous for our blimps as we are for our tires and other automotive products… if not more so. We launched our first airship, the Pilgrim, in 1925 and now all three Goodyear icons - the Spirit of Goodyear, the Spirit of America and the Spirit of Innovation - fly year-round throughout the US. There's a certain magic that goes along with the challenge of being professionally involved with a Goodyear airship. You can discover that feeling yourself when you join us at our Los Angeles, California-area blimp airfield as a Pilot.

As a Goodyear Blimp Pilot, you will operate an assigned airship safely, effectively and efficiently to assure optimum utilization of that aircraft for favorable exposure of the Goodyear name. In concert with the Pilot-in-Charge, the Pilot accomplishes public relations assignments by planning, organizing, directing, operating, maintaining and administering a specific airship operation which includes airship, personnel and ground support equipment. The pilot also acts as the Goodyear Blimp Spokesperson, speaking to the public and the media, fielding questions and ensuring that the Goodyear reputation for excellence and professionalism is never compromised. As the sole pilot aboard, the Pilot commands and is responsible for the aircraft and functional operation during take-off, flight and landing. Assists and assumes command in the absence of the Pilot-in-Charge in the supervision of operations personnel in order to fulfill operations' missions in compliance with FAA regulations and company policy.

Activities requiring outside contact include conferring with vendors, news media, airport management, motel managers (travel and tour arrangements) and the public, customers and potential customers. The Pilot assists in forward planning of airship mission requirements with respect to travel accommodations (airports and motels) and movement of the airship and ground support service vehicles and airship personnel. Additionally, the pilot assists the Pilot-in-Charge in ensuring compliance with all company standard practices and policies.

While flying the airship, the Pilot will obtain maximum exposure of the company name by achieving optimum flight time of the airship through pilot and crew efforts. Note: Optimum flight time to meet public relations requirements within the safety and operations parameters of airship design.

The pilot assists in reviewing, evaluating and controlling airship operations functions in order to maintain and operate an efficient, safe and professionally staffed flying operation.

Traveling up to 180 days per year with consecutive extended periods, the Airship Pilot guides the Goodyear Blimp to a variety of venues throughout the United States that can include NFL, NBA, MLB, college football and NASCAR events, as well as the Academy Awards.

Requirements include:
Current Commercial Pilot with instrument rating (airplane or helicopter rating) with minimum 500 hours
Minimum of a high school diploma or equivalent
Minimum second-class medical certificate
Willingness to travel for extended periods of time
Preferred, but not required:
Commercial Lighter-Than-Air Airship rating
A & P certification
Certified Flight Instructor
FCC license
CDL
College degree

Goodyear, with marketing operations in nearly every country around the world, offers a highly competitive compensation package commensurate with education and experience, as well as the opportunity to work with an industry leader. Please note that this position does not offer relocation assistance.
If you meet the above criteria and are interested in working in a rewarding, yet challenging environment, please apply online at https://goodyear.recruitmax.com/eng/candidates/, select the “search” button under the Job Search section to view the Pilot position.

Man - whadda job! If I only stuck with my original plan, and got my Commercial lighter-than-air Airship rating. Oh well, maybe next time.

Does anybody know who now controlls Max Headroom?

Because I'd love to see him pop back. I really would.

Hell - I'd love to write the words coming out of his mouth!

The last post was done on a whim...seriously

I did not know that today was the day...in 1937, the Hindenburg Zeppelin blew up!

Here's a couple more shots of it not blowing up...

How about some blimp action?

Sure, why not.

Here's something old...



And something new.




And then there's this...

The Next Level

Pretty coo...

Pretty Funny.

A guy describing a car accident on the phone to a friend.

May 5th? No! Cinco de Mayo!

We get a lot of the Latino vibe here in Los-Angeleeze, and I for one, welcome any holidaze that make any excuse for drinking mexican beer. (or any kind of beer, actually) But, this was the first time I actually looked up what happened May 5th in Mexico. Here's a brief rundown, and over here's a little different take from the online encyclopedia.

Anyhoo getting back to Mexican beer...I prefer Sol to the other usual suspects. Why? Because magical things like this happen!



However, that being said, I don't mind supporting the Corona people, even tho their stuff isn't as good. Just because I like seeing things like the following on my teevee, Corona commercials stand out because they are so amazingly calm and quiet. The difference It always reminds me how desperate the television people are to keep your attention. Advertising like this works much better for me.



As well, their products are pretty cool. If any of you have a cool $500 and wanna get me a Cinco de Mayo gift. This would be sweeeeeet.

Ahhh, Pirates...

How many times has your news saved me from actually writing a new post?

Well, here's one that's pretty dry, but it's got video!

It's not as good as this one, which was from last month...but is a lot more interesting, plus it also has smugglers!

***Update***

Here's an amazing map of pirate activity off of the coast of Somalia! There's a ton of information on here - it's worth the PDF download...promise.

Mr Pigglesworth and Mr Gimpson VS The Evil-Eye!

"I say Gimpson," asked Mr. Pigglesworth, "do you place any weight to the notion of the evil eye?"

Mr Gimpson put down his newspaper, and shifted his slippered feet on the ottoman, looking at his friend. "You mean those with a power over dark forces, with which they might becurse a man who crosses their path with an unsavory look?"

"The very same."

"I don't give any weight to it whatsoever. Why do you ask Pigglesworth?"

Mr Pigglesworth walked to the fireplace, which now held only glowing embers, placed a new log upon the grate, and used a poker to summon a small tongue of flame licking over the new wood. "You remember my pocketwatch had recently stopped?"

"Of course, you complained about it last weekend." Gimpson frowned, "Since you hadn't mentioned it, I had assumed you had taken care of it."

"Well, after mentioning it, I felt I shouldn't bring it up again. However, earlier today I went to the watch repair shop, to have it seen to."

"What was the problem?" Gimpson asked.

"A gear had broken a tooth, which had become lodged in another, preventing it from moving. It took all of five minutes to fix." Pigglesworth watched the fire, which was now happily cracking, and moved to sit upon the sitting chair opposite Gimpson.

"Well that's a relief." said Gimpson.

"Yes. However, outside the watch repair shop, I was accosted by five Gypsy urchins who wanted money."

"Not an uncommon occurrence for a dweller of a metropolis."

"Of course." Said Pigglesworth. He squirmed in his chair for a moment, then rose to fix himself a drink. He looked over at Gimpson as he poured scotch from a crystal decanter, "But as I was pushing my way through the rabble, and knocking their hands away from my pockets and other valuable items, an old Gypsy hag emerged suddenly from around the building, and in my haste, I stepped on her foot!"

"I say!" Exclaimed Gimpson.

"Quite." Said Pigglesworth as he took a sip of his drink. "So the woman says, "'Ere Govn'a, shouldn'a treat my youngins as tha they was the plauge! Alls they wanna is a Shillin'." Well, I responded by begging her pardon for stepping on her foot, but stated that I wasn't about to give anyone my money, especially after being molested in such an uncouth manor."

"Then what happend!?" Gimpson asked excitedly.

Mr. Pigglesworth continued his tale. ""Uncouth!" She spit at me, which she really did, as she had no upper teeth, "I'll show ye uncouth! 'Ave a gaze 'ere at my evil-eye!" at which she gave me the most foul look I have ever seen on a human's face."

"My word old chap," said Gimpson, "has anything unfortunate befallen you since then?"

Pigglesworth Moved back to his chair, settled down more comfortably than the first time. "Well, I was nearly run over by a dogcart near Trafalgar, a load of roofing slate fell from the top of Lloyds and crashed practically at my feet, and as I went to the shed for more firewood, I discovered a nest of possums, three of which made for my ankles! Luckily I wasn't wearing loafers."

"It does seem as if you've had your share of near things today. Do you give weight to this Gypsy woman's evil-eye?"

"Against my better judgement, I would guess there may be something to it." Pigglesworth stood up, refilled his glass, and had another sip. He stood by the fire for a moment, then drew himself up and spoke in a more defiant tone. "Now Gimpson, you know I'm a rational man, I believe in science and technology, and won't be drawn into believing in curses! But I daresay I see the old hag's look each time I blink. It's unnerving."

"Pixies!" Gimpson said.
"Pixies?" Pigglesworth looked over confused.
"Pixies. Gimpson stated as if he was done speaking about it.
"Gimpson," asked Pigglesworth, "what do you mean, Pixies?"
"You remember when I used to rent rooms out of the old Holdenhurst Mannor?"

"Of course, they were quite stately...gave you quite a respectable front I might add."

"Yes. But did I ever tell you why I left those stately rooms to take up diggings with you?" Gimpson asked knowingly.
"No."
"Old Holdenhurst Mannor was haunted will all manner of spooks. There was one horrifying apparition which frequented my rooms, which appeared in spectral form with a bloody stump for a neck, and carried it's head under an arm. The head would then hurl a huge vocabulary of insults at me, and then laugh madly."

"My god Gimpson, how often did this happen!?"
"Nightly!"
"You lived there for nearly two years! How did you maintain your sanity!?"

"Pigglesworth, it is why I mentioned Pixies. Whenever I saw things which I think should shake me, I knew that they were impotent in the material plane. However, they did scare me. But that's when I remembered the Pixies, small mischievous fairy creatures which mean no good to mortal man, but really capable of only small tricks. Each time I was faced with such things, I would just think to myself, it's only Pixies playing tricks. And that's how I mastered that! You should try it for yourself."

"You're saying, this old Gypsy hag who gave me the evil-eye was nothing more than a trick played on me by three-inch fairy creatures?"

"Yes! If you're believing in Gypsy curses, you may as well believe in Pixies. And if you believe that, I'd say a Pixie trick is a lot easier to deal with than a Gypsy curse."

Pigglesworth looked at his friend, pondered for a few moments, and without thinking drained the rest of his glass. It appeared that he had made up his mind, because he smiled slightly.

"Pixies!" He laughed, "Who would have thought I'd run into Pixies in the middle of London, right outside the watch repair shop! Gimpson, you've made me much happier. I am in your debt for your take on this affair."

"Not at all, my good man, not at all. Now then, either we spend the rest of the night making some manner of Pixie trap, or we could go to the billiard hall, and see if we can overcome Pixie mischief with the logical physics of solid balls being struck with a stout cue!"

"Capital idea Gimpson. I'll fetch my cloak."



Happy Friday

***Update! Incase you haven't seen the previous adventures of Mr. Pigglesworth and Mr. Gimpson, you can find them directly below!***

Episode One

Episode Two

Episode Three

Episode Four

Episode Five

Hoooo Boy, Whadda Week!

There might be hundreds, nay thousands of words I could use to describe this horrific beast, but I won't. (crap, there's two)

All I will say with true emotion is I FOUND MY HAT!

That's so awesome.

I suppose you're wondering why I haven't

Done anything on the Giant Squid dissection. Well, it's cause it's super boring. There's nothing there at all. Here's a link with video. It will put you to sleep. There's nothing there but a giant lifeless blob that barely looks like a squid, and that's why I don't care. Maybe it's ennui setting in, or maybe, like from my last post, I'm just getting tired of the novelty of the internet...but the internet is boring me to death. Maybe it's just time Pigglesworth and Gimpson had another adventure.

Anyhoo...over here are some awesomely beautiful photos of shipwrecks.

I have this little quote

From Warren Ellis - from some interview he did a little while ago. I printed it out, and cut the paper so I could have it lying around making clutter in the vast kitchens of the Casa Aloha Resort and Spa. (soon to be casino - but I have some legal hoops to jump thru to prove I'm part Native American - but that's another, and hopefully massively profitable, story. Anyhoo - the part of the quote I like best is the last bit, which goes like this.

"The motor of innovation and novelty is really kind of cranked up right now, but, in contrast, the general culture is still in a sort of post-millennial shock, just laying there and drooling over its nipples."

There's something really important in there...I can feel it. I can sense it. He's right, but, I just can't quite get my head around what it is, or what it means.

According to the free online encyclopedia "...culture is generally refers to patterns of human activity and the symbolic structures that give such activities significance and importance."

Well, that's rather vague...but maybe that's the point. Trying to reimagine, reinvent, or just create new symbolic structures that give meaning to patterns of human activity ain't like doing yer laundry. It's (seems to me) about creating something (art, relationships, organizations, I dunno...add yers here) that is not only understandable to a vast majority of the population, but is powerful enough to fundamentally alter the meaning of how people relate to the world around them.

Yeah, well, that's a stab at it. I'm not saying that's correct, nor am I saying if it is correct, that I have any idea of how to make something that powerful, much less make something that powerful, that would actually work. I just wanted to shoot this into the webmonster, for consideration.

Just to letcha' know

The Big Boys are finally catching up to the Penis Shrinking story we broke last week!

Haha, no, not those Big Boys, I ment the Major League Media Demons, like this guy...

Well this sucks...

I'm gone for a few days and everything's busted.

Hurt my hand, tired as fjuck, got a nasty cough...and stuff

Things are just a wee bit tough at the Casa Aloha right now as I one-handedly type this. However, I did need to dial you into this.

(since it's yahoo news and their links always end up M.I.A. I'm putting up the thing for future generations.)

KINSHASA (Reuters) - Police in Congo have arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men's penises after a wave of panic and attempted lynchings triggered by the alleged witchcraft.

Reports of so-called penis snatching are not uncommon in West Africa, where belief in traditional religions and witchcraft remains widespread, and where ritual killings to obtain blood or body parts still occur.

Rumours of penis theft began circulating last week in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo's sprawling capital of some 8 million inhabitants. They quickly dominated radio call-in shows, with listeners advised to beware of fellow passengers in communal taxis wearing gold rings.

Purported victims, 14 of whom were also detained by police, claimed that sorcerers simply touched them to make their genitals shrink or disappear, in what some residents said was an attempt to extort cash with the promise of a cure.

"You just have to be accused of that, and people come after you. We've had a number of attempted lynchings. ... You see them covered in marks after being beaten," Kinshasa's police chief, Jean-Dieudonne Oleko, told Reuters on Tuesday.

Police arrested the accused sorcerers and their victims in an effort to avoid the sort of bloodshed seen in Ghana a decade ago, when 12 suspected penis snatchers were beaten to death by angry mobs. The 27 men have since been released.

"I'm tempted to say it's one huge joke," Oleko said.

"But when you try to tell the victims that their penises are still there, they tell you that it's become tiny or that they've become impotent. To that I tell them, 'How do you know if you haven't gone home and tried it'," he said.

Some Kinshasa residents accuse a separatist sect from nearby Bas-Congo province of being behind the witchcraft in revenge for a recent government crackdown on its members.

"It's real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny," said 29-year-old Alain Kalala, who sells phone credits near a Kinshasa police station.

I for one welcome this anti-sorcerer vigilanteism, and any civilian action that is pro-phallus. As it turns out, I'm not the only one. Please watch the following Reuters video, and be amazed.

Yeah, I been slackin'

But I have been doin' stuff that ain't quite blog material...perhaps you'll get a small glimpse if I'm feelin' feisty. However, I have also noticed that most of you don't give a rats ass, so I don't feel that bad about it. But I've got that feeling like you've clicked over to find something new and awesome, so I'm going to leave you with this.

This one don't got the best video quality - but it's soundtrack is superior to the other's I've watched.

And now some words from the Vandal-Set

Some amazing pictures over here.

And now some words from the Jet-Set

Here's a cool interview he did in 1963 that's worth reading.

And with the end of Taxing Day

We bring you this cool video about F1 Crashes!

Sand Pirates! Sand Smugglers!

This one's got nearly everything!

Checkin' in on sciency news

I guess this is a good thing. A few good hearted people are suing to stop the Large Hadron Collider! Why? Well, there's this...

But Walter L. Wagner and Luis Sancho contend that scientists at the European Center for Nuclear Research, or CERN, have played down the chances that the collider could produce, among other horrors, a tiny black hole, which, they say, could eat the Earth. Or it could spit out something called a “strangelet” that would convert our planet to a shrunken dense dead lump of something called “strange matter.”

Apart from that - everything's great!

Here's a good shirt

I Like it. Do you?

You can but it and others like it over here.

You can also read an awesome web-comic from it's creator, right here!

I'm not sure if this is worth your time

but John's beer drinking records is quite a dedicated work.

(P.S. - this and the last were nabbed from Look at this - which I've raved about before)

Some Stupendous Photos From the Land of Fjord

There's more awesome pics over here.
(With the promise of more...)

No Luv today, just taxes...

Now back to your regularly scheduled content.

930 don't mean I've all forgotten about 4/4

It might seem a bit shallow that I noticed the passing of 4/4 wid-out a mention. However, back in January of '08 I did pen this little diddy.

Anyhoo, I was scanning thru some second-tier blogs I try and frequent and found this little video I'm about to post up. There's something cool about it, because it says what needs to be said in a way that's constructive. It's all bad, no doubt - so you can feel free to skip it if you came here for some tjypical Fjordian content...there is a new Friday post up, that I think is pretty fun, but whateva', I'm past that today, and starting from Gjods clean slate. It's short, but purtty dang good. Oh yeah, it's also mothafjuckin' 40 years old.

Bee cjool to one another...it's about character.



That dude was also killed by a white man. Looking at this vid for the second time, I don't wanna leave ya with that, I'd rather leave ya with this...just a stupid speach by Bono accepting the NAACP's Chairman's award. You're probly one of the many who wrote that dude off in the 90's (like I did, then later, I did change my mind) but it's a pretty dang good thing to hear.
(P.S His first 30 seconds are drivel, no doubt. The venue is retarded, no doubt, but his words are pretty much no joke, and it get's pretty killa')



Anyhoo, I dig that this (small) post is purtty back-n-white. But that changes in no way, the retardo injustices which have been perpetrated on members of every nationality and race and ethnicity, and religion across our fair planet since we've been recording history in written words and organizing into civilizations which compete for...um...whatever civilizations compete violently for.

There is one struggle that we are all well aware of, that's to love or to hate. Hate requires no understanding, and no higher-level work...it's simply a movement (or emotion, or reaction, or what the fjuck ever) of subjugation, or destruction. It's easy and rewarding...and it easily rewards those who embrace it.

Love is usually the opposite...it is not easy. And the rewards for embracing it, cannot be measured in teevee time, fancy cars, a long life, and massive bank accounts. It's about connecting with people and reaching a common understanding. All sorts of fjucking people, all across the globe that you never thought or believed, you could ever find a single connection with, you could. You have it, (the connection) you are human. It's just motherfjuckin' hard work to filter thru the chaff to find it.

Here's a fun little tale

Full of nearly unexplainable shit. Checkit - it's an odd one.

Just A Friday Video Bonus!

If you don't read "Danger Room" (one of wired's mil-blogs) they've done a series of crazy posts about how to (in real life) stop a 600 foot cloverfield/godzilla monster, how to stop a terminator robot, and this last one how to survive a zombie apocalypse. (if you follow the last link, links to the other stories are at the bottom.) The comments are fjucking great and totally worth exploring...people have great real world ideas, even tho some get way too tech for a guy like me who don't know dick about ammo and military-type specs. Anyhoo from that post, I got this vid, which is exactly what you want from a "non-made-up-threat-to-your-gjoddang-immortal-soul...which you already know are the mummies."



Anyhoo - hopefully you've already armed yourself against the inevitable, and we can move on to more fun stuff. Like this song I heard the other day, and thought, what the fjuck is that song. Fortunately Fjord Borg came up with the answer.
(The vid might not be the keenest, but the audio is pretty right in the pocket)



And finally, this yummy little chunk of goodness from back in the day...

Got hops, big ups, mad handles, and other words and phrases I'd rather not ever hear again.

Friday was on the deck with the other weekdays, reposed in circularly arranged deck furniture. He reached over and grabbed the joint Thursday was passing. He took a hit, and settled back into his chair as smoke oozed its way into his lungs.

"I'm so fucking high." Said Wednesday to nobody in particular.

"There's a motherfjucking coyote in your yard." Said Monday, pointing down and across towards some topiaried shrubs, where there definitely was some kind of feral canine, looking back at them. Monday took the jay from Friday, had a hit and coughed a little while expressing his feelings in an unequivocal, "huh."

Tuesday spoke slowly. "I didn't even know I had a yard."

"Dogote." Said Wednesday. (It came out of his mouth like dog-o-tee)

"What?" Asked Friday.

"Dogote." Repeated Wednesday, "cross between a dog and a coyote."

"There's no such thing!" Thursday said while reaching for an iced tea, resting on a nearby wooden table.

"Sure is. Look it up on my Iphone!" Wednesday pulled his device from a pocket and handed it over, Thursday quickly scrolled to a web-page (which is here. Fjucking interactive Friday post mothafucka'!)

"Whaddayaknow...dogote! Well, I guess it's real, but how do you know that's a dogote?" He pointed out across the yard, but the dogote, or coyote, was nowhere to be seen. "Huh, it's gone."

"I just know it was." Said Wednesday leaning back in the cushions of the self-standing swinging chair he reposed in, closed his eyes, and proceeded to rock the chair with his legs.

"Wait a second," expressed Tuesday with confusion, "I don't have a yard, I have a condo with underground parking, a rooftop pool, and a heli-pad!"

Monday, who had been holding the joint and taking drags all this time looked up, and said to nobody in particular, "I'm so fucking high right now." He looked out of beet-red eyes, which were mere slits, across the rails of the deck and mentioned, "There's a coyote in your yard." He pointed to a grove of trees, where sure enough, some kind of feral canine was resting.

"Dogote." Wednesday said without opening his eyes.

"Seriously guys," began Tuesday, "and I am being totally serious, whose house is this?"

"Trickster God." Friday said.

"What?!" Replied Wednesday and Monday together.

"The Coyote...a Trickster God, in Native American mythos. Clever little fuck, got me more than a few times myself."

Thursday fucked around on the internet with the Iphone (he was still holding) and came up with this. He quickly responded to Friday.

"Sounds like a cool customer."

"Sure." Replied Friday, "lotsa fun. But let yer guard down for a second, and yer in the middle of Times Square in winter - with no clothes!"

"That's the Coyote, not a dogote, which is what is in your yard." Said Wednesday.

Tuesday was exasperated. "Seriously! I don't care if it's a coyote, the Coyote, or a dogote! It's not my yard and it's not my motherfjuckin' house!" He stood up, ready to head towards the sliding glass doors of the deck, into the house, and out onto the street.

"Be cool Tues.," Said Thursday, "It's my house." Tuesday stood for a moment weighing Thursday's words, then slowly sat down.

"I am so fjucking high right now." He said, and shook his head.

Monday began making a series of strangled sounds which the others looked over at. After a few seconds, it was clear he was laughing, but so hard the only sounds that came from his mouth were, "Chit, chit chit, chit..." This continued for a good two minutes. After a moment, he regained enough composure to wipe tears from his face. "Oh my gjod." Was all he was able to say, before cracking up again.

The others smiled like crazy at the display, and wanting to join in the fun, peppered him with "What's so funny?" until he was able to calm down enough to spit out, "Dogote!" He slapped his thigh, and finally reached out for his lemonade, had a sip, took a breath and said, "That is one fjucking funny word."

Happy Friday!

I knew I couldn't keep this a secret forever...

Yeah, by day I'm a mild mannered earth resort owner/operator, but those dang astronomers have released the first movie of Tsunami on the sun.

I can't get into exactly what I was up to on the sun, but lemme assure you, it was something really, really cool.

If yer up for reading something dense

This little post gives a few neat connections reagrding oil, and the war machine.

Hahaha! Teen Spirit!

I've often mentioned to anyone who would listen, that Nirvana is Led Zeppelin. Not so much that they are at all similar stylistically, musically, or lyrically...but as groups which drive radio (and jukebox) play. Music fans of both classic rock, and alt-rock will forget all sorts of sonic indignities thrust upon them as soon as Zeppelin or Nirvana come on the airwaves...it's bizarre. I happily quip, whenever Nirvana's on, that "I love Zeppelin!" And how much "I love Nirvana!" Whenever Zeppelin shows up.

People seem to get a little annoyed by my habit of doing this, but I am already (and clearly) a little annoyed myself. There were better bands, contemporaries of either one of these groups...and contemporaries which were commercially successful as well. Yet, they don't rank the continuous rotation that either of these groups do. Why? I dunno...I'm not really a "music industry insider," but it is what it is, I guess.

I do, however, think, it would be hard to find a Zeppelin song that Paul Anka could nail like this.

I'm so totally back!

And what do you get when I'm back? Why you get amazingly great things...like THE RETURN OF FAFBLOG!

(Quote the Tsunami)


"OhmigjodomygjodOOOOOhMiiiiieeeeGJOOOOD!"

If you don't know what I'm talkin' about, you can click over there, and then find -on the right side of the page- find the archives, and read some of the shit that's there. Fafblog was a total inspiration to a gargantuan number of fjordposts back in 05-06 (which you can find in the "archives" of Fjord - located to the lower left-hand side of this page).

I for one, welcome my return, and the amazingly great things I bring back with me. Don't you?


(Photo ganked from here)

"Why," you ask, "has there not been more astounding writing of the kind I have grown accustomed to, at Fjord?"

Well, that, my friend, is an excellent question. It also has two simple answers, which are as follows:
1) I haven't felt like it.
2) I'm still on The Vacationing!

And with an upcoming trip (starting tomorry) I'll be even less likely to pen a Fjordian masterpiece in the next week or so. However, I will leave you this little link to a great post by a good bloggy-type-guy entitled...

You and what over-extended exhausted and depleted army?

Because that's how you write a great post, and that's also how you title said great blog post.

Fashion in 2000...

As seen from the 30's.



Found at the amazing DRB

L.A.

Everytime I come across something like this it makes me realize how many thoughts I have about my adpoted megalopolis, and how often they're squirming around, trying to assemble themselves into some concrete form. Maybe I'll try and get it together some day. Until then here's the line from that post that got me somewhere close to home...

If Los Angeles had been a woman then, she would have been one of Captain Kirk's glamorous alien paramours. Too sexy for this world, too odd for the everyday. Her eyes would glitter at you until you were caught in an insect moment, dimly wondering if one of you was supposed to be a predator, and thinking that it mightn't be terrible to be eaten. Literally. Like a biscuit.

Oh jeeze...

Not again.

So err, yeah...

Here's a few things I'm speculatin' on at the mo...

People are going to say bad things about you, it's inevitable, and your only defense is being convinced of your own goodness.

Someone once explained to me after I remarked something like this, "How come the memories that pop into my head are inevitably bad things, when I've got a thousand more great things I've done that are great memories, could pop into my head?" by answering, "The human mind is still wired like it was a thousand years ago, bad things are more important to remember since they're more important to the survival instinct. If you remember a tribesman was eaten by a snake at this particular bend in the trail, it's more important to your survival than when you cracked the tribe up with a series of funny stories afterwards, that subsequently resulted in you getting laid."
Well anyways, I had one more thing I wanted to quote, but I can't find it...since I've been quite the internet wanderer over the last few days, but it was something I read over at wired or one of its blogs in the last coupla' days, in their comments section. Unfortunately I can't find the post to link to, (and I have frustratingly searched) but it was in context about harboring ideas for money.

The commenter said something like this, "If you know what e=mc2 means, that's a stolen idea. But nobody thinks in terms of that..."[then said summore things] and ended with..."if you think you're going to make money from your idea, by all means, hide it. The world won't miss you, or your idea. It's not about making money, but about what you're adding to the human experience."
(that's a paraphrase...but pretty close)

Anyways, it was the last bit that caught my attention and made me get a small grip on my otherwise stupid doubts and internal or external criticism. It's probly that the world will rarely hear, or talk about, "the human experience." I guess because it either doesn't make much money, or because it's too damn big to talk about. But it doesn't change the fact that within that experience, what you do, make, create, share, experience, and convey, does make a difference.

It would be nice if someone came up with a metric about people who are adding to "the human experience" like the list of the 100 richest people on the planet. I'd sure be interested if any of the top 100 of the latter made the list.

Some random loose end stuff

Two years ago I wrote this. Today I saw this. Then I thought, maybe I could find this! ----



Super cool sci-fi shit meng! And I'd also like to say, pretty dang good camera-work too.

One more thing before I go green

Have you ever spent any time over at Futility Closet? Because you should. And you should start today.

Oh Yeah, and there's that Irish thing today...

It's workin' out pretty good here at the Casa Aloha. The fridge is stocked, unemployment is on the way, the dishes are done, there's some groovy tunes on the radio, and it's 6:49 and light outside.

Oh yeah, and I just put some new wallpaper on my computer! I got's to tells ya, there's something really refreshing about changing that background. It's hard to notice how many times you see that in the course of your internetting/computing, but it's pretty much has to be the most viewed picture by you. Would a new one help? I dunno, but if you want your computer background to look just like your pal Tsunami's, you can check out this joint!

If that don't put you in an Irish mood, I don't know what will.

Jellyfish...yeah, a lot of folks didn't take the mummy problem seriously...at first

From the Black Sea.

There's more over here.

Okay - More Cute!

Only this time with 1000% more WTF!??!?

More Robot and Puppy Action!

If you don't think this is cute...you have no soul.

Move Towards the Light!

"I just know I could get my head straight if someone could just do something about these fucking blinking demonic lamp posts!"

It started off with some floodlights over parking lots, and moved to exterior building lights, and finally every lamp post in the city...randomly shutting on and off. At first it was almost funny, people gathered on the sidewalks in little clumps, heads raised, watching twenty feet above them as the streets fell into total darkness, and then were illuminated again.

Of course, the first thing that was not at all funny was driving. Traffic signals were on the fritz too, and nobody drove anywhere at night if they could help it...but people rapidly adjusted to this reality, and began racing to get things done before darkness fell, and the lighting grid went crazy. In fact, most people (as they were asked later) felt as if they were doing some real living, in fact squeezing the most out of every day. But with the human brain being what it is (naturally super-fjucking curious) the lights just kept on grabbing your attention. A few minutes into watching a teevee show, you'd notice a blinking light outside and look over. You knew what you were going to see before you looked, but you couldn't stop yourself from looking.

"What is going on with those lights?" You'd ask yourself, but you'd also know, just as you asked it, that you were never know the answer. Of course they called the Department of Power, and the City Engineers, and Lighting Maintenance, and what the hell ever branch that had anything at all related to lighting, and not one of them could find an actual problem with the damn things. "There was," they said, "No problem to fix. The city's lighting was operating exactly as it had for 90 years."

This of course was not well received.

The phenomenon was slowly driving people mad. The only recourse was to go home, shut your blinds and curtains, and pretend it wasn't happening. Many people did not have the inclination to do this. During the days, people were test, short, and aggressive to the point of violence.

A few weeks later, some nerd at the local University had arranged for a recon satellite to download a months worth of video of the nightly phenomenon. He ran it thru program after program searching for some sort of pattern...and came across a filter, which produced a rather simple and startling discovery. The City's lighting grid was flashing on and off in a huge signal of binary code. On off, one-zero, projected on a screen with scale of miles. After the discovery, it only took a few seconds to decode. It read simply two words repeating over and over. "Help Me."

This, of course, was not the most settling message to receive from the city's lighting grid, especially with no contex whatsoever. Was it the City asking for help, or was it only the lights that needed it? Was it the electrical grid that had somehow become sentient and beaming this message? Who was the fucking message to!

All of those were good questions, but since then nobody came up with any answers, and the damn thing's still doing it. I sure-as-shit know that it's been getting to me, and I've been acting funny. A few of my friends, Gjod bless 'em, have called me on it...and I wasn't afraid to say it.

"I just know I could get my head straight if someone could just do something about these fucking blinking demonic lamp posts!" And that's when it hit me. I'm that someone!

I took to the streets at night, and my car would have scared any cops who might have pulled me over. Slingshot, speargun, pellet rifle, .22 caliber rifle, .22 caliber target pistol, .32 special, crossbow, double barreled shotgun, baseball bat, all within easy reach. I picked different spots, and slowly, methodically began dealing with the maddening lights. The news picked up on it, and gave me the name, "the Lamp Post Vigilante." As soon as I got some press, others joined the cause, and despite the authorities calling for it to stop, within a matter of days, nearly every external light was smashed.

"Help Me?" Yeah, I'll help you City...buy cutting out your tounge.

Things are much better now, and my friends have noticed. "Lookin' good!" they'd say, and I'd reply "Feelin' good!"

Of course I'm of the firm belief that the City has taken a new medium to transmit its message...the water system! Now I spend hours of the day watching my faucets, wondering how it's transmitting. Sometimes when I'm in the shower, it goes from hot to cold, and back to hot again...I'm not sure what it means. I do know that taking down the city's water system will be a lot harder than breaking a few lights.

This one's for Craig. Since he brought up the idea that America might soon be rad again

I just sniped this outta' a crazy web-hyperlink-a-thon, mostly 'cause I think WWI is a supa' interesting topic of historical awesomeness.

***A Well Known British Nurse Observes the Doughboys

(One day) I was leaving quarters to go back to my ward, when I had to wait to let a large contingent of troops march past me... Though the sight of soldiers marching was now too familiar to arouse curiosity, an unusual quality of bold vigour in their swift stride caused me to stare at them with puzzled interest.

They looked larger than ordinary men; their tall straight figures were in vivid contrast to the undersized armies of pale recruits to which we were grown accustomed...Had yet another regiment been conjured out of our depleted Dominions? I wondered, watching them move with such rhythm, such dignity, such serene consciousness of self-respect. But I knew the colonial troops so well, and these were different: they were assured where the Australians were aggressive, self-possessed where the New Zealanders were turbulent.

Then I heard an excited exclamation from a group of Sisters behind me, "Look! Look! Here are the Americans!"

I pressed forward with the others to watch the United States physically entering the War, so god-like, so magnificent, so splendidly unimpaired in comparison with the tired, nerve-wracked men of the British Army. So these were our deliverers at last, marching up the road to Camiers in the spring sunshine! ... The coming of relief made me realize all at once how long and how intolerable had been the tension, and with the knowledge that we were not, after all, defeated, I found myself beginning to cry.

Nurse Vera Brittain, V.A.D.
Memoir, TESTAMENT OF YOUTH
***


Yeah, that's the Bugs Bunny, Humphry Bogart image that we never should have lost. Probly time to get it back.

"America. We're Pretty Rad."
-Craig Rose-

The Vacationing!

Yeah...we're a little slow ova' here at the WCB of Fjord. Howeva' it does seem as tho a huge variety of things are cut into massive chunks and thrown in the pot. My hope is that they cook down into an awfully tasty stew.

Yooo Tube Strikes Again

Hey Mom! I'm on a blog!

Click here for the awesome imagery!

Um, you're soaking in it! (Part II)

Seriously, this couldn't have been better timed.

That is all.

Um, You're Soaking In It!

So not too long ago I found this little article about political revolution, and the seven steps to getting there. It's four short web-pages long, and fairly interesting if you have a passing interest in these things. If not, you should skip the rest and watch the gjoddang octopus video I last put up, cause meng, it's pretty fjucking awesome! (the soundtrack is also particularly soothing too)

Anyways, if you're still here, we'll go explore a little deeper into the Fjords, hoping for some gjood stuff.

Today's post goes something like this.
I was thinking about back in the day (as I was someone old enough to watch it happen on my teevee) when the Berlin Wall came down. Man, that was a sight. It was a symbol for we idiots in the West, about everything that was wrong with the Soviet Union, and Communists, and all the stuff that made societies and economies work. And the thing is, no matter how you looked at the world -politically- before then, it all changed.

And by that I mean...when I was a young lad, I remember rootin' for the Mujaheddin to defeat the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. I remember gleaning out of the (pre-internet totally broadcast/press news) that we (in the U.S.) were actively supporting the native Afghan rebels, and enthusiastically wanting them to win. When the Soviets rolled out of Afghanistan, I literally felt like the forces of good had won, had, with our help, defeated the bad guys.

'Course, in those times, for those of you who didn't live thru it, (or did but were uber small) the common narrative that stretched thru everything was, the United states had 10,000 nuclear missiles, and the Soviet Union had like 50,000. (The reason being (so they explained) ours were so much more accurate, they needed 5x as many to make sure they took out the target they were shot at. 'Course, we all know you hit a major city with a nuke missile, it really doesn't matter where you hit it.) But anyway, this is all background crapola.

If there were to be a war, no matter who launched the first strike, and who launched the counterstrike before the first strike hit, the whole planet, well, life on the whole planet would be changed in such profound ways that I would not even be capable of this narrative, unless it was with twelve people gathered around a campfire after we had killed an 8-legged deer, and people were asking to hear how the world was...before. And, why everyone had five eyes, that fin, six breasts, and three testicles that were sterile. But that's a different story.

The Soviets were not just an enemy to us, they were the foe that could bring and attack so destructive, that it would destroy all life on our continent. An attack so powerful, that our only defense was to unleash a counter-attack so destructive, that all life on their continent would also be killed. And in so doing, destroy the world. Those were the stakes. No matter how it got spun, and no matter how I misinterpreted that spin...there was no mistaking those were the real stakes. I fell asleep more than a few nights wondering if I would wake up because a nuclear war happened while I was dreaming.

Okay. That's motha' fjuckin' nuts. I know it now. But I also know that's what the feeling was during that time. So to continue with my narrative...

When the Berlin Wall came down, We really had a common feeling like all the Warsaw Pact countries were free! In Poland, the Solidarity Union took over. In Czechoslovakia there was a velvet revolution led by a playwright...and after that, specifically, I can't remember the others. But one by one all the hard-line regimes changed. We thought it was going to be great. Gorbachev was a wise Saint, and no longer was there there a planet-threatening battle of ideology. (Clearly, nearly none of the people in the U.S knew a Russian, and vice-versa, we didn't hate each other, the hate was from our ideology towards theirs (and likewise, vice-versa))

There was going to be a "peace dividend" from all the money we were going to save from keeping a massively awesome global military on standby. And life was going to be AWESOME!
(And seriously, for me, the psychological weight from knowing I wasn't going to be incinerated by a nuclear warhead as I slept was considerable...even if it was, or wasn't ever real)

But around this time I thought about the downfall of Communism, and wondered, quite a bit about Karl Marx. Marx was the dude who came up with the idea of..."hey, instead of the fifty rich guys owning everything and taking the profits of the fifty-million workers working for them, let us do away with the fifty guys, and let the fifty-million workers share the profits of everything they make."

As it turns out the Communist Revolution (1917-ish, which the Germans helped along starting WWI) was run by some awful thugs, who, in pure Capitalist tradition, seized power, and made sure things for them, were pretty fjuckin' bueno. I'm no expert, and pretty sure I'm no novice when it comes to commenting about what life was like under that rule. I only assume, compared to what I know, it was pretty bad. Of course, from what I know, life is almost always bad...but I do know they got free healthcare, which isn't awful. But anyways, I need to get back to my point.

The whole deal with Marx, was a class-struggle. There were three classes, the lower, the middle and the upper class. In which, inevitably the upper-class (which already had all the money and power) would exploit the middle and lower-class workers, until the middle-class and the lower- class joined up, and united rose up in revolution, to replace the upper-class with nothing. In it's place would be a collective. A collective of people who shared the wealth that was created, thru their work and creativity. What would exist, would be a society that had no owners, and instead shared all their talents in ways to benefit the common good. Needless to say it did not work out as well as planned.

However, the reason I was thinking about Marx after the fall of the Soviet Union...was that, without this ideology to fight against, without this horrible (world destroying) enemy to keep our ideology in line, (taking full advantage of any leverage we might use against them, or persuade allies or perspective allies, against a foe that had no respect for human rights, or civil rights, or human freedoms.) we reach a simple conclujsion. In the global struggle for ideas and systems of government, order, finance, and manufacturing that work, the Capitalists have won.

It was at this moment (err, well, yaknow, it didn't happen exactly at one moment...it took a while to kinda work this idea out) that I thought to myself. "Now there's no-one to fight against, we'll see if Marx actually had anything."

Not to lead your thoughts too far along on this, but it does seem like in the last twenty-years, one particular class has already made class-struggle a pretty high priority. And it ain't the two that gots problems affording healthcare. Well, anyways, I do sorta' hope enough of 'em wake up to actually do something about it, but from what I've seen, it's already too late.



See, I told ya you shoulda' skipped this and just watched the octopus. That thing is pretty fjucking awesome!

Here's A Nice Vid...

With an octopus.




That is all.

They're baaaaack...

Mummies! This time Catholic mummies. Gjoddang they're everywhere! And of all denominations too! Pretty soon we'll be hearing about Jewish mummies, and Unitarian mummies and Buddhist mummies...My Gjod, when will it all end?

Course, in my mind, my greatest fear is that they'll team up with the jellyfish...

It's Clearly Time to Start...

Demoning!