enjoy, duh dah dah dah dah

Last year for New Year’s Eve Alastair and I set up an impromptu photoshoot in his livingroom on Dec 30th with the scarlet fun fur coat he’d bought years ago for our New Year’s Eve together in L.A. years ago at the Mutaytor Ball. We then stayed up until 5 a.m. rigging the photos together into a sweet little something that was finished and posted just before I left for Seattle with Ray, to celebrate the coming onslaught of 2008 with Cherie, Aric, and Alex.

Here it is again, our little red something, almost exactly one year later:

WISHING YOU A….

seriously, click it
click it now

next: glow in the dark fetus kittens

Meredith for Victory: Associated Press just covered her DIY home-genetically-engineered “glowgurt”

Meredith and I met in SF earlier this month through (The Amazing) Julia and immediately bonded over my improbable desire to have kittens implanted in my womb. She is, how you say, awesome. I’m glad everyone else is starting to find that out too. Of course, as it likely goes without saying, I really like people with unexpected hobbies and passions and ideas. As far as I’m concerned, they make the world go ’round. I love the future. I love that we create it, that we have no choice but to carry on. I love that two people can look at the same moment in time and come away with staggeringly different ideas. I love that we invent, create and discover daily, that we have filled our world with language, poetry, mathematics, music, and ideals.

Who are your bright favourites who make a difference, who spark in the night and inspire you to new plateaus of fascination? Who is it that makes life bearable, that springs eternal hope in your veins, that keeps making tomorrow seem an alright place to be? What do they do, how do they do it, and why does it matter to you?

I want to know. Will you share?

r.i.p. Eartha Kitt, who Orson Welles described as “the most exciting woman in the world”.

Mer says, “Just a quick goodbye air kiss to glamourpuss Eartha Kitt, who passed away today [Dec 25th] at the age of 81. It’s nice to picture her sitting on some sparkling, inter-dimensional yacht this evening, having scintillating conversation over moon martinis with [the also, sadly, recently deceased] Harold Pinter.”

Also recently lost to us is Gene Rodenberry’s widow, Majel Barrett-Roddenberry, “the First Lady of Star Trek”, who died in her home of leukemia December 18.

via JWZ: You stay classy, Music Industry.

Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls says:

if you hadn’t noticed, all of the dresden dolls and amanda palmer official videos have been taken off youtube.

yes, folks…girl anachronism, coin-operated boy, shores of california, almost everything from who killed amanda palmer….pretty much the whole deal. all gone. go look for yourself. and you ask…wtf? this is why: nytimes, wired.

basically: "Unable to reach new licensing terms, the Warner Music Group has demanded that thousands of its videos be removed from YouTube, which is owned by Google. Warner Music’s videos, the source of a billion views on YouTube, gradually began disappearing from the site on Saturday, although many remained online Sunday evening."

in other words, roadrunner is a subsidiary of warner and i’m stuck in hell with madonna and the other poor bastards, because warner wants more money. even worse, warner has almost no bargaining power…they’re not even in the top ten of labels who have huge artists with material streaming on youtube. they’re just starving for cash right now and they’re doing anything they can think of to come up with cash. it’s abSURD. they are looking for money in a totally backwards way.

money that, i should point out, i would NEVER see as an artist. if they got their way and youtube decided to give them a larger revenue share of the videos, it;s very unlikely it would ever make it’s way into the artists’ bank accounts.

damn, man. this shit is fucked UP.

my menorah is broken, so I’m using tea lights. they lack a certain something


More goofy Salton Sea goodness via Lung

From the perpetually delightful brain of Mike Levens:

1. Get born in Mecca.
2. Move to Medina.
3. ???
4. Prophet!

Happy first day of Chanukah, everyone!

Apparently it’s Christmas this week too. Generally I notice a little earlier, reminded by parties with good cheer, but this year, not so much. Parties have been thin on the ground and I’ve barely seen more than ten people in the last week. I’ve been too distracted by my computer slowly imploding at home, the failing bus system, my thinning relationship, maybe not having enough money to successfully cover both rent and utilities, and feeling more trapped as every day New Year’s approaches a little more while I still have no plans to celebrate.

I’ve been trying to get my mind off it by jumping through the snow every chance I get, letting the pure child-like glee of all the cold white shoot in through my eyes and into every cell of my body. It really helps – I only wish I had a sled or a toboggan or even a crazy carpet.

Tonight I’m going to be filming the lighting of the hockey-stick shaped ice menorah downtown at the Denman St. ice-rink. (It’s by donation, you should come! There’s going to be latkes!) Tomorrow, though, I don’t have any plans after work. Would anyone like to come play in the snow with me?

yum

Chocolate fashion show.Swiss chocolate knife.Chocolate pie chart.

A group of us went out on Friday evening for Kyle’s birthday at the glorious Sutton Place All-You-Can-Eat chocolate buffet. It was wonderful. The weekend isn’t over and already I want to go back.

Today, however, Kyle’s birthday celebrations continue as he hosts Sunday Tea, (a local institution I’m proud to say it still going strong, five years later), as “the conjoined twin of a birthday potluck celebration with a film.”. Nicole and David and I are going to head over together, bringing rented copies of two of the most ultimately amazing movies I know, Strings and Sukiyaki Western Django, to be the evening o’clock entertainment.

If you know Kyle, you are also invited.

conflageration nation: where we had fun trying not to die

So… yesterday.

The original plan was only for Nicole and I to head over to LIME, a Japanese restaurant that used to be a Turkish restaurant named RIME, (just because, that’s why), for a friend’s gig and some GirlTalktm, but by the time Thursday rolled around Nick, (who I had sort of not-quite-secretly set her up with), was part of the party and I had agreed to pick up cat supplies from Dominique, who had put her suddenly feral kitty to sleep. So instead of taking Nicole’s little car and heading straight to the restaurant, we ducked through downtown to Dominique and David’s place with Nick’s van and visited with their new tiny little wonder for a bit before hauling the cat stuff out to the van and heading back to the Drive.

It was incredibly cold out, with a thick cake of ice on almost every side-street, the result of cars packing down snow. Nick’s a fairly good driver though, so it wasn’t until we got stuck on a surprisingly steep bit of low hill near Commercial Drive that we started worrying. Nicole and I were all for slowly backing up the way we came and trying another street, one with a shallower slope, but Nick had tire chains in the van and decided to use those. Or rather, one of them.

Truthfully, if he’d used all his chains it likely would have worked, but it was freezing out and he didn’t have gloves so he only used the one, leaving his other front tire to spin wildly as he floored the gas, trying to get some forward momentum going. Within a minute, at the same time Nicole’s phone rang, dark clouds began pouring out of the hood and a pedestrian ran up to us shouting, “Fire!”.

Black smoke started pooling in the van almost immediately. Nick, ever able, quickly popped the hood and jumped out to discover incredible flames licking his engine, so I grabbed my camera bag, yanked myself out of the van, and tore Nicole’s door open as soon as I could stand on the ice, “Nicole, time to get out.” Once she was clear, (explaining to her friend on the phone, “Sorry, can’t talk, car’s on fire!!”), I reached across and turned off the engine as Nick used frantic handfuls of snow to put out the crackling fire. Exciting times!

Lucky us, the disaster was a small one. By the time a local resident ran up with a fire extinguisher, we’d already doused all of the flames we could see, rolled down the windows to let the smoke out, and started laughing the adrenalin off. We were fine. It was Nick’s new van that was in trouble. The fire had been behind the engine where we couldn’t make a closer inspection, so we could only theorize at the damage. Our guess, based on the horror movie strobe of the dashboard lights, was that maybe a wire had been sitting somewhere it shouldn’t and caught fire when part of the engine overheated.

We moved the van as soon as we felt it was safe, gently rolling it back down the hill to a corner parking spot out of the way. Except for aforementioned flickering lights and some strange sizzling noises, it seemed fine, so we looked under the hood again, trying to figure out what was hissing, a futile thing, and decided what to do next. Nicole’s suggestion, “Gently drive it home”, was a great idea, except it wouldn’t turn on again. When Nick tried the ignition, all the internal lights went out with a very quiet pop. Somewhere in all of the uneasy hissing engine sounds, the electricals had given up the ghost. We couldn’t even roll the windows back up.

After a bit of talking and a bit of sitting and a bit of turning into ice, we decided to simply abandon the vehicle for a tow truck in the morning and continue on foot. Nick wrote a note that said ENGINE DEAD, ALL VALUABLES REMOVED, I left it pinned to the dash, and we walked the rest of the way to the restaurant where it turned out the food was delicious and the company even better. Thank mercy we’re all cheerful people. The End.

Yes, I live in Canada. Why do you ask?

Jeepers, I thought last night was unexpectedly exciting, what with successfully hooking Nicole up with Nick for the holidays, finally meeting Dominique‘s new little baby, SURVIVING NICK’S NEW VAN CATCHING FIRE, (no one was hurt. I pulled Nicole out and we put the fire out with snow), and admitting rather bashfully to someone that I wrote about our personal life on the interblags, but today’s news sort of trumps it, so I’ll just get it out of the way and talk about yesterday in the next post…

I’ve just been hired as a cameraperson for Chanukah on Ice.

“Skate to Chanukah music or watch and nosh latkes and doughnuts.
Monday, December 22, 2008, 6:00-7:30 pm.
West End Ice Rink, 1750 Haro Street (Between Denman & Bidwell).
Admission: By donation. Skates are free.”


Which sounds, on the surface, like it’s going to be a Yiddish Icecapades, people dressed as sparkling, spinning dreidel, singing songs and throwing glitter under a rainbow of lights, but apparently it’s something a thousand times more hard-core bizarre. Something I would never have the wit or imagination to think up myself.

It’s a Candle Lighting on an Menorah made of ice, a meter high and shaped like hockey sticks.

Did you get that? Shaped like hockey sticks.