~

Let me tell you about To Lorne Dieterling. A mystery I have solved.

TLD is the unfinished, unpublished, final novel of Ayn Rand. What she was working on when she died of a heart attack and was buried in the mud and did not ascend to John Rockefeller’s rape dungeon in the sky on the back of a golden rocket horse, spitefully taking with her (as was her right) our very knowledge of shoes.*

Or so we thought.

The plot, text and focus of TLD have been debated among Randians ever since. Leonard Peikoff, her bizarre manservant, has kept the notes secret. Their content is only hinted at in The Early Ayn Rand, their existence only noted in The Journals of Ayn Rand. A mystery for the ages.

Until now.

The reason Piekoff has not released Dieterling is that the work was finished, but very short. Also, the format was odd. Less a "book" than a "tightly rolled scroll of human flesh" intended less to be "published" than "burned at the edges and stained with the blood of an albino bat and an undisclosed number of orphans" The text was brief but memorable.

*

What was will be
What is will be no more
Death is but a door
Time is but a window
I’ll be back

*

If Reason wants to do an interview, I am available for questions. Leave a comment, and we can talk appearance fees.

A few notes:

The biggest question lingering around is “what is the island?” I think it’s a door. Or a house with a door. Or doors. (And anyone who knows my fondness for House of Leaves should see the significance I place on houses and doors.) It is a point of transition, a place people pass through before moving on to somewhere else. Similar to an airport terminal. Where people move on to isn’t really the relevant question. It isn’t itself purgatory, or limbo, but more like a contact point; a place where the walls between places become thin and there are, again, doors, and, importantly, where there is the choice of whether to move through the door or not, and when to do so. If we continue with the house metaphor, then we can think of the sidewise-universe (what my friend Cheryl calls, and so will I, “limbo”) where the characters find themselves is at most a room within the house. 

Read More ... 

Good God.

So think Kingdom of Heaven, with actors misused, history nowhere in sight and fast edits where the drama ought to be.

So think Kingdom of Heaven. 

UPDATE: Man. I should have titled this post "Are you ready to be who you are?" The present tense is in the corner, weepng. Because Ridley Scott was mean to it.

The BBC attached this photo today to a story about Iran Nuclear Bomb Sahsmshmnhs.

Oh I read the article. But there are more COFABG-level concerns here.

I declare these Democrat Fingers.

UPDATE: (seeing the post on the page like this) Yes. The argument they seem to be having is hilarious.

I am good at very few things.^sd

One of those things is pontificating about things in which i have no real reason to pontificate on. Politics is (are?) one of those things. So, seeing as I have the forum and/or soapbox to do so, I might as well make use of it.

Anyhoo.

I was watching The Colbert Report^sd2 and some guy^sd3 was talking about California's new proposed law (initiative?) that makes partisan primaries, well, illegal. Basically, what would happen is that there would be an open primary and the top two vote getters would be in the actual election.

To be honest I’m not totally against this. Partially because of Colbert’s reaction. He says, basically, that this will create more elected moderates. Now, again, I’m not a guy who’s in the in on politics and who does what and how much senator x plays to the base and how much he plays to the corporations, but I don’t really see this as a bad idea. Like seriously. This is probably one of the better ideas I’ve seen come out of politics in a while.

Look, in most states/districts, the primary is laughable anyway. Like the OH-11 (where humble ditriech is from) has been solidly Dem since 1983 (the year young ditriech was born). And it’s not just there. The California 5th, the Michigan 15th and the Pennsylvania 2nd have been solid Democrat since 1949, 1933 (when the frakking district was created), and 1949 respectively. And the Louisiana 1st, Missouri 8th, Wyoming at large and the Tennessee 2nd have been Republican since 1977, 1981, 1979 (when former Vice President Dick “Go fuck yourself” Cheney was the rep) and 1867.

Seriously. Think about that last one. A non-Republican hasn’t won the Tennessee 2nd since the fucking Civil War for frak’s sake. What is the point of a partisan primary there?

And in the competitive states, the candidates that better represent their constituents interests, regardless of party, will typically be in the top two. So how is this bad? How is the fact that an elected official accurately represents where they come from a bad thing? Why can’t we do this a) in California, and b) everywhere?

Playing to extremists obviously isn't working. I mean, that’s what got us these Tea Partiers and the fact that they can actually change Republican primaries^sd4 to begin with isn't it? Let’s govern America by actual Americans with actual beliefs instead of a party line. At the very least, it would be shit tons more fun.

Ok, so.

I can’t sleep. Like ever. I have pretty severe sleeping problems. Always have. This is part of the reason why I love Fight Club. Because it makes total sense to me. I mean, fighting (natch)  insomnia, chewing Valerian root-these are all things that I capital “I” Indentify with.

This is how the Griz and I first became acquainted I guess.

Unremembered to most people beside MRWAD^sd Griz and I had a group. It was basically just us. We were called “The Insomniacs”. By, you know, us. And really no one else. But we did “vandalize” other people’s whiteboards by writing things like “THE INSOMINIACS ARE HERE” and shit like that on them.

I guess what I’m saying is, actually, I’ve been an asshole for a while now.

But then again, you knew that.

Anyhoo, the band known as “Chicago” after the great...uh. City. Or something. I’m to lazy to research this. But! They made this one song called “Saturday in the Park” and someone thought that I might like it. I did. Then, they suggested “25 or 6 to 4”. Which, obviously, I loved too. So I listened to it a lot. Then I stopped for a while. Because that’s how I am with music.

This is all going to come together^sd2 I promise.

Also, when I was 14, like everyone else, I fell in love with Green Day^sd3.

No-not love love. But I really liked listening to their songs. So of course “Brain Stew” came across my radar at some point in time. And, naturally, so did “Jaded”, Because, you know, how hard it is to hear “Brain Stew” without hearing “Jaded”?

But here’s the kicker. “Brain Stew” and “25 or 6 to 4” are the same song

Well, maybe.

It’s totally possible that “25 or 6 to 4” is not a reference to not being able to sleep at 0335 (or 0336) while trying to write a song. It could be about banging a whore.

...

Oh, come on now. Don’t get all PC on me. If you use Cockney rhyming slang 25 or 6 to 4 clearly rhymes with whore. So it could be about banging whores. You never know.

But at face value at least, these songs are the same. Both are about being awake. Not being able to sleep. Similar theories in similar songs.

And by “similar” I mean “HOLY SHIT THE BASSLINE IS ALMOST EXACTLY THE SAME”.

That kind of similar.

I mean, i found out by happy coincidence that my iTunes playlist played these two songs relatively close to each other. And now, as it should, it hurts to hear “25 or 6 to 4” without hearing its cousin (brother?) of “Brain Stew” after it.

And we all know “Brain Stew” is best followed by a rousing rendition of “Jaded”. Which, naturally, followed by the crippling fact that you are no long 14. Welcome to real life asshole.

Anyhoo, here they are.

Because we haven't had Nic Cage in this feature for a while. And I'm trying to feel better about life.

The bear suit isn't helping ...

~

Congratulations to the Boston Bruins. Who showed up longer, played harder, and beat the nougat center out of my favorite hockey team.

I've got to say, the team and The Buffalo News beat my expectations. I expected ref-blaming, hero coddling, and hard-luck-town whining. The implication that failure is Authentic.

This is an all rustbelt blog, so you know what I'm talking about.

But no. Truth was told.

"Name me a team that's won a series and blew two [Three. -sic] leads and has gone 0-for on the power play," Sabres right wing Jason Pominville said. "You're probably not going to find one."

The Bruins' power play finished the series with six goals on 22 chances. The Sabres will spend the offseason thinking about no power-play goals in the playoffs, failing to connect on all 19 opportunities.

They'll also be haunted by blowing two-goal leads in Games Two and Four, giving Boston a prime opportunity to advance.

Unfortunately for the Sabres, they also won't find Tim Connolly and Derek Roy in the goal column. The team's top point producers from the regular season finished with no goals in six games.

Yeah, that Tim Connolly. Don't get me started.

It's more than that the boys beat themselves. Clocking out for whole periods and painting their shorts at the worst possible times. 

It's larger than a team with a division title, 100 points, an Olympic goaltender, a Norris Trophy defense, and real scoring depth. A team who found it in them to be small, scattered and helpless the instant a bracket appeared.

It's a joke I made in the Spring of 2007, at Kinsale Tavern in New York. In that year of hope, noise and unidentified stains on my jersey. We watched our #1 squad overskate, under perform, and look so shaky on the Power Play that I got up on a chair and started waving off penalties with the NFL "Decline" gesture.
 

Can't touch this.

Okay. I may have just been waving my arms and yelling. But that's how other people interpreted it.

It caught on. And as we gave up rushes and flamed out in the Finals, half the bar would be booing and Declining every time the Senators took a penalty.

Three years four time zones and huge changes to our roster later, I made that exact same joke here in Seattle. And it applied.

I don't believe in goat magic. I don't believe in curses. I don't know if there's something in the water or something in the social consensus or both or what. Buffalo sports teams are at their worst in times of opportunity. Give our guys a shot, and skills will fade, excuses will be farmed, and our Molson Ice will be salty with weeping.

An entire town will warmly, cosily embrace it.

I don't know if new players or a new special teams coach will fix this. I don't know if it's a thing that wants to be fixed. I don't really know what kind of a thing it is.

But I watched a different 20 guys, running a different game plan in a different year, against a different team.

And they were so faithful to the old mistakes, I swear they were hockey Lost Causers. Re-enacting old defeats in authentic uniforms. Performing the town ritual.

There's ... always ... next year.

Go Blackhawks? 

~

Mystery Science Theater 3000 raised me. And like Ghostbusters (my stepdad), it's such a great production that it starts out hilarious to a 12 year old, and every year gets better.

It also laps Seth McFarlene in the trivia department. You could footnote most episodes as densely as The Divine Comedy. Just look at the one I'm referencing today ("Zombie Nightmare"). Didn't see that grocery store commercial that ran on News Channel 9 in Appleton, WI, 1974-75? Sit this joke out.

When whoever digs us up digs us up, I'm fine with the Complete Box Set to this show being our Aeneid. Beats the alternative.

Anyway, remember how I praised the Chicago Blackhawks' goal horn? Where they play that new Fratellis hit and dance? 
 

Some teams go that route, some stay with a classic horn. Boston and Detroit blast songs that feature the words "Boston" and "Detroit." Which, okay.

Things are a little different in Canada.
 

Jesus Christ. Did Paul Verhoven ever give the rights for that song back to the band? Can they play it at Bat Mitzvahs now? 
 

You get the sense that record just hit BC this week. Until the playoffs, they probably had "Brain Stew" queued up.

This isn't Kazakhstan. I can get in my car, drive for two hours, and be in a culture where they are rocking it hard to my Sophomore year of high school.

You just want to scratch the whole country behind its little floppy ears and say how cute they are.

Or you would, if Jarkko Ruutu were house trained.