Number of people under one roof - 4
All - Male
Hetero:Homo Ratio - 3:1
Steve 1, Steve 2, Matt

Number of Vehicles - 3
Make of Vehicles - Mazda
Model of Vehicles - Millenia, 626, Truck

Number of Televisions - 4
Number of Computers - 6
Laptop:Desktop Ratio - 1:1

Number of Gaming Systems - 7
X-Box(2), PS2(2), N64, Dreamcast, Gameboy Advance
Video games in current rotation
Soul Calibur 3, World of Warcraft, Castlevania Aria of Sorrow, Earthworm Jim

Number of housemates with Netflix subcribtions - 2
Number of Netflix movies currently at house - 5
NewRadio Seasons 1&2 (Disc2), Videodrome, Sins of the Fleshapoids, Perfect Blue, Mystery Science Theater 3000: Attack of the Killer Shrews
Television shows watched regularly by 3/4 of by housemates - 7
The Simpsons, King of the Hill, South Park, The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, Battlestar Galactica, Jeopardy!

Number of languages spoken in the house in the past week - 4
English, French, Mandarin, Ngala

Number of Periodical Subscriptions - 9
The New Yorker, The Wall Street Journal, Details, Dwell, Complex, Harper's, Interview, Electronic Gaming Monthly, BPM

Average number of hours when all housemates are home - 1.5
Average number of hours when any housemate is home - 23
Average age of housemate - 27.25
Number of housemates boning on a regular basis - 2
Best dry-erase board message from the last month -
Please don't masturbate in the shower. Please, Please!


A beard is just a beard, unless its a cigar.

I've written some of my most compelling and least coherent work under the influence of delerium. Its true. High school AP History class final. Copy for Montana Ag Live. An award-winning short film. A journal entry which nabbed me "Funniest Male Aged 18-22" in Bozeman, MT for Spring Semester 1998. Yeah, top that!
Unfortunately, I don't believe that this evening's delierium will be anything of the sort. Well, It will laughably incoherent.
Been reading a
bunch of Texan blogs lately. Made me think about when I was in grade school and signed a petition to save the Dr. Pepper Tower in Fort Worth. I've always had an affinity for the beverage. I especially like the Mexican kind that is made w/ cane sugar and not corn syrup.
I really like this product. Of course, I also like Cherry Vanilla DP.
I also signed a petition to save
See? I've always been political.
If you didn't see me w/ the beard, then too late. Here are some of the reasons I'm giving to people as to why I shaved it:
A) It started to freak me out because I didn't know what products to use on it, and my
usual skin care lines offered no help.
2) Well, its just been so sunny here that I couldn't really justify looking like a mountain man in such
wonderful weather.

The real reason I shaved it--trimming accident. Idiot.

Uh. What else.
New New Yorker has a Martin Amis article, but the real star here is (big surprise) Jonathan Stern's piece. [

Pitchfork likes the new Booka Shade (just like me).

I finally got around to getting the new Concretes album, and I love it. Maybe not as much as their debut, but it feels like summer and that's what I'm craving right now, hell, that's why I shaved my beard.
Oh, and here's a
track for you to sample.
one more, cuz this shit's good.

Oh, I just thought of something funny--about beards.
My mom once told me about a dream she had where I had a beard and I came and told her that I was engaged to a woman. I wish I could have told her what a "beard" is to us 'mos.
this site, seems to think that it came into vogue in the 60's. I was thinking it was way before that. Input?

And I'll end with a couple pics of the exterior of James Turrell's Skyspace at the Henry. If you don't know Turrell, you should. I'm going to try and get a posse of people to hit up his
Roden crater when it opens.


You already know the flavor

Skip Sander[Longest post, ever.]
That's right. I'm sighing. What can I say? I've been a busy little beaver. I know you're sick of hearing about it, but I'm still adjusting--or perhaps not adjusting to this nighttime life. I took this evening off for a certain
Mr. Dear who came to Chop Suey this evening.
So, its Wednesday night (well, Thursday morning) and I'm still totally discombobulated about what day it is and what I'm supposed to be doing. I've slept for a total of 2 hours in the last 27 so please forgive any typos, grammatical errors, etc.
So you ask, "Jeremy, how's work?"
To which I reply, "Work is actually pretty good. It mimics a dream state. I look at pixels blown up to 300% and push them around a monitor whilst listening to music. Occasionally, I field an e-mail from Japan or China which reads like this, 'Dear Partner, Have tomorrow help size not enough. Please advise. Have a Happy Tomorrow Forever, Other Partner.' Yeah. So those are amusing and frustrating all at once. That's work."
As for the music to which I've been listening at said work establishment, well,
this track keeps popping up in my playlist and I've gotta say, that everytime I hear it, I like it a little bit more. I've long been a fan or Serge Gainsbourg and modern takes on his mod classics hit me just the right way. I have to check out the new tribute--although, I don't think anything can beat the electronic take (he is one of the pioneers, after all).
Ok, moving on.
Then you ask, "Jeremy, just because you essentially work 6 days a week [Five 8 hour shifts that start on Sunday night @ 11P and end at Friday 7:30A] that doesn't mean you have the right to neglect us, and we know you love us, so why have we been neglected?"
Well, that's not an easy answer. See, when I was a
daywalker, and my responsibilities were much lighter, it was easy to just take a five or ten minute break out of the day to do one of my (lame-ass) posts. Now that I have to work (yes, I realize that a simulated dream state is not *truly* work) for all 8 hours of my shift, I haven't had the time to give you the attention you so deserve, and I apologize for shirking my blog duties.

Ok. Now that all of that is out of the way, I have to post about the shit that has been goin' down.

First off, Friday--
Sander Kleinenberg @ The Showbox
you'll recall, Matt, a co-worker of his, and I hit up Vancouver to see Mr. Kleinenberg last June. We were sorely disappointed in his set.
Let me preface this.
Sander used to be da bomb. He put out mixes that featured artists like
Swayzak, Rui da Silva, Peace Division, Funky Green Dogs, Satoshi Tomiie, Hernan Cattaneo, and The Art of Noise. Grandmaster Flash was even singing his praises back in the, y'know. I mean, this is the dude who dropped Junior Boys and made me go out and buy their album (which was my favorite album of ought 4).
All that being said, dude sucks. Matt and I gave him another shot and while he might have been on-target for the shiny shirt guys, he left beatjunkies and househeadz much to be desired. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, go fuck yourself.
Domo Origato, Mr. Retardo

Then Saturday--a double bill sure to inspire--
Jamie Liddell and Jimmy Edgar.
If you'll recall, I put Jimmy Edgar's "My Beats" on
mix numero 3. That track hits it, but really what do you expect from Warp? Liddell harbors the soul of electronic music and is an admirable descendant of the aforementioned Gainsbourg. So the picture I'm posting is pretty much awful (why do I always make weird faces), it is, nonetheless, an accurate descriptor of the evening. And, fuck! When did I get so fat?!?! Good news is, the new sched allows much, much time at the gym. Today, a two-hour killer workout. (Oh yeah, and I'm sportin' the man-fuzz.)

Still rolling--This evening was a night that I asked to have off even before my "promotion" was finalized. Matthew Dear was rollin' thru and he knows how to knock it out. Chop Suey was surprisingly filled for a Wednesday. Of course, the crowd had thinned to 28 people by 1:00. That's ok, though, Matt and I had a great time. We drank and danced and cavorted. A huge posse was there early--Rachel, Paul, Matthew, Bern, David, Kiki, et. al. You know those nights where you see all those people who you know enjoy music as much as you? Well, this was one of those nights. Mr. Dear's set ended around 1:30. Matthew (roommate, not DJ) thanked Matthew (DJ, not roommate) and apologized for the ebbing crowd. Mr. Dear was amiable and replied, "Well, it is a Wednesday."

Is it really Wednesday? Because, seriously, I have no clue when a day starts or ends anymore.
To compound said confusion, my roommates, whom I have come to adore, require that I cook for them on a semi-regular basis. Yesterday morning (or is it this morning) they asked that I make another German pancake. I said I would if they purchased a sifter and all of the required ingredients. Here's how it turned out:
The way to a man's heart is butter, 5 TBsp

6 eggs, 1 c. bread flour, 5TBsp of butter, cinnamon, vanilla, and powdered sugar. Feeds 3.
If you don't have a skillet that can go in the oven, get one, just to make these.

So later today, I'm doing the press screening for the
Maya Lin exhibit @ the Henry. I'm excited and exhausted. I'm excitausted. I promise you, dear reader, that I will at least make more attempts at posting regularly.
[Oh yeah, and the other reason I haven't been posting as much--World of Warcraft. I finally defeated Van Cleef!!!]


I did it all for the cookie

So, I'm supposed to wax poetic about voting or something so I can get cookies from Texas.
It doesn't really take cookies to motivate me to write about voting.
In fact, I'm greatful that
Adam by way of Hypoxic reminded me that since I've moved, I'll have to update my information and subsequently figure out where I cast my vote.
See, the fact of the matter is, I'm a pretty political person. In the beginning of the year, I called my representatives (and others) in Olympia to help pass two bills which would make shooting films in Washington state a more viable option for production companies by giving them tax and lodging incentives. How does something like that affect me?
Well, I did go to school for Film and Television production. I am a card carrying member of 911 Media Arts and the Northwest Film Forum. I do volunteer for the Seattle International Film Festival and the Lesbian and Gay Film Festival. Even though I like to think of film as an art form, it is, probably more so, an industry. Industry is governed by legislation which is written by people we vote into office. They may or might not have us in mind when voting on such legislation, and if we call them, send them e-mails, show up at their doors on a semi-regular basis, they are more likely to take our needs into consideration.
Its kind of strage, though. I mean, I live in a very liberal city with a very high voter turnout. All of my friends are politically minded and vote every two years. I think we would all vote more frequently if given the opportunity.
Here in Ballard, the local cupcake store was giving out "Baby Cakes" if you voted. So, let's recap:
Vote = Brownie
Tell people about vote = Cookie?

And Jesus everyone's been on back about updating this bitch. And shit, I'm sorry, but fer real, this is my second week of ye olde graveyarde and this weekend I went to Sander Kleinenberg, Jimmy Edgar and Jamie Lidell.
Tonight, I'm hittin' up Matthew Dear.
Tons of pictures and stories to follow.



So I've been having issues lately.
Namely, screencap issues. I was planning on doing a visual representation of my love affair with David Cronenberg, but apparently the computer has decided not to do screencaps anymore. Bummer.
So then I thought, well, at least I can post about a crush from days of yore and resurrect old poetry. Alas, I could not even find the old laptop that has all of that writing on it. Double bummer.
So, in lieu of a real post, I leave with you with an image of the peep show I pass every day (well, night now) on my way to work.
Lotta Hole Shakin' Goin' On
Sorry for the poor image quality, I could have beefed it some if I were at work, but well, I'm at home.
The Lusty Lady is a Seattle landmark and their signs almost always make me chuckle. My favorite is still, "Veni, Vici, Veni."


Short like me

Hey y'all, so its day two and I'm whupped. Of course, the bus home was full of little children who were on their way back to school from a feild trip to ride the ferries, so I got stuck standing up for about half the way. I did make it to the gym (for like the fifth time this year, yikes!).
So, since I can hardly manage the energy to type, I'm just gonna cut and paste the Jeremy version of news:

Kim Gordon and daughter to appear on the finale of Gilmore Girls. [
article] They get some pretty impressive guests on that show--Madeline Albright, Norman Mailer, Carole King--now Kim. Pretty impressive (especially considering that this season sucks).

Now that Arrested Development is officially kaput, Will Arnet can move to the big screen. [

Here's an article that discusses the disconnect in queer cinema. [
article] And the author has a pretty glaring research prob--he calls Todd Solondz a homo. Isn't that supposed to be Todd Haynes?

Oh, and if you're not watching Boston Legal, maybe you will soon--Parker Posey to guest star. [

Sorry there's no salacious anecdotes to relate--I promise the boy crush story to surface soon (as soon as I find some bad poetry from the days of yore).


So . . . very . . . confused

It is 8:30 in the morning. I just got home from work. So, its official, I'm a night shift-er. Went to see " The Pillowman" last night at ACT Theatre w/ Bill and Cam. The show got out at 10:15, and I went to work. Trippy to say the least, and if I thought being in a bank vault underground was creepy during daylight hours, it is even more so in the dead of the night. Thankfully the three other people with whom I work are pretty cool, and the time went by relatively quickly.

So, "The Pillowman." There was a
lot of hype surrounding the show so, needless to say, my expectations were high. I thought the script was pretty good--not so deserving of all of the praise being lavished upon it--but pretty good. I thought the acting and direction were befitting of a regional theater (there's no Billy Crudup or Jeff Goldblum to give instant weight or credibility). The lighting and set design were perfect.
When we entered the theater, which is a theater in the round, a large concrete (looking) box took up nearly the entire stage. When the show began, it dropped to about a foot along its perimeter exposing a prisoner in his cell. The story is bascially that of a writer imprisoned by a totalitarian government accused of murdering three children. The children's deaths are similar to stories he has written, and it turns out his retarded brother killed them. So that's a really basic overview.
Because the story exists in some alternate dimension, we are given the ability to believe a bit more of the outlandish events that occur. My problem wasn't, however, with the story's absurdities. It was with this production's inability to lasso the tone of the piece. When you're working a black comedy, everyone needs to be on the same page--or everyone needs to be under the thumb of a very astute director. There were sparkling moments of revelation in this production, but more often than not, the performances were timid.
It was this timidity that made the show hard to digest. Matthew Floyd Miller as the lead, Katurian, could not pull off the bravado of an author who has written 400 stories (only one of which was published). Shawn Telford as the retarded brother channeled PeeWee Herman and was more a cipher than character in a play. The two police detectives had moments of complete understanding that almost made up for the their younger counterparts inexperience.
For an almost 3 hour play, this production held my attention, and I can't recommend enough getting up, getting out, and doing something different, like supporting local theater.
I get to review ACT's next production, "Miss Witherspoon" by Christopher Durang, for Seattlest.
Speaking of Seattlest, I've got a new one up.

Wow, I was going to post more--about boys from the past, my stupid version of "news" and some other stuff, but I think I'm finally starting to fade. Guess I'll just have more to post this week.
Good night--which is in the morning.


My ears are melty

Just a quick link to two superb tracks by two superb producers.
Swayzak have been around for quite sometime. Snowboarding in Argentina came out way back 1998 and was well-recieved. Go back and listen to it if you own it. It pretty amazing how little this album has aged.
There has been a healthy dose of albums and remix work since then.
James Taylor (no, not that James Taylor--the one that's half of Swayzak) released one of my favorite albums last year--Carthage Milk.
Stuido K7 just released the duo's newest, Route de la Slack and its pretty damn good. The best part about it is that it compiles a bunch of the remix work.
They remixed one of my favorite bands, Tahiti 80. And this track is hot.
So for your listening pleasure--
Oh, and if you're keeping track, here's my newest scathing review on Seattlest.


You frisky little Minx

Damn lady, you know how to throw.
Last night we were lucky enough to get the ever-fabulous DJ Minx at the Baltic Room. She brought the thump from Detroit with a smidge of Chi-town flava. And, like so many DJs who've blown through lately, she reminded me that my musical proclivities are often wrongheaded. She got me onto the dancefloor with a dope remix of Kerri Chandler's "Bar A Thym," proving, once again, that I don't know a good track when I hear it. (See?)
The were some squelchy, acid-y tracks. There was the odd electro track, but bitch knocked it out with overstated techno. I mean, the melodies were gilded and the basslines were large. Who ever said that the only good techno is minimal? (Probably me--but I've been wrong before.)
If she ever rolls through your town, go see her. You won't be disappointed.

Also this weekend, I made dinner for the guys. Chicken manicotti al fredo. Simple al fredo sauce. Manicotti stuffed w/ chicken, spinach, onion, garlic, ricotta, mozz., and gorgonzola. Topped it w/ orange bell pepper. It needed more salt, but was pretty good. The salad w/ raspberry vinaigrette definitely helped cut the creamy main dish.
Mmmm, creamy.