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Ah, what a glorious time of year it is. And what glorious people about us. And what big teeth they have, grandmother. The better to floss with you, my dear...
Saturday, April 17, 2004
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| Sun Tzu's the War of Art...:: Joe | | 2:47 PM |
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So I dropped more than a couple dollars on the big season baseball package. Now I'm realizing that many games that I actually want to see (like the one playing right now... Big Mac is back and I have to take their word for it...) aren't shown. In fact, they don't have a game on until Wednesday. In case the cable powers that be are reading this, I didn't get the package to watch, say, the Devil Rays or the Brewers. I want to see the Cards, the whole Cards and nothing but the freakin' Cards. It's always fun to realizing that you're paying for lots and lots of basball filler. Woo-freakin'-hoo.
Oh well, aside from my Cards withdrawals, I'm watching the Avs as we speak. Down 0-1. Of course the 3-1 series lead does add an "oh wel" factor to it. So it goes.
In either case, I do intend on getting some actual writing done this weekend. Maybe even today (dare I to dream on the wings of my own ambition?) but not now. Later. Maybe a lot later. But it's scheduled. Seriously.
It's been a while since I've done a Joe Approved song list. So here we go without further ado:
UNKLE- Eye for an Eye
Sarah McLachlan- Fallen (doesn't make me a sissy boy, does it?)
Starflyer 59- A Housewife Love Song
Over the Rhine- Let it Be
They Might Be Giants- Am I Awake?
The Mute Eunuchs- mister klezmer goes to paris
The Ramones- I Wanna Be Sedated
James Brown- Papa Don't Take No Mess
Ivy- Worry About You
Aleixa- Purge (anyone know what happened to Laurel? --Joe)
Lost Dogs- Smokescreen
Mike Knott- Apocalypse Lips
Astrud Gilberto- Goodbye Sadness
Avs tied it, Cards began their systematic whoop-ass of the Rocks. Ahhhh, if all Saturdays could be like this...
-Joe
Friday, April 16, 2004
So, once again I've managed to neglect my little on-line enclave of love and support, but fear not, for Joe has the whole flippin' weekend off. I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen. Probably no music, but I can't say for certain. Maybe some writing, but again, it's far from a sure thing.
I'm pretty sure I'll be catching some baseball and hockey this weekend. Hopefully the Cards will stop giving me an ulcer and the Avs will merrily skip their way to the semis. Sports are a harsh, cold mistress if one is given to following any team in particular.
Kill Bill Vol 2 is out this weekend, so that pretty much rules. Catch that and maybe get a little truck tinkering done at the same time. Boy is my life boring. I'm sure I'll be able to fabricate something to sound cool for all y'all. If not I deeply hope that I'll be able to make the mundane amusing for a few paragraphs at a time. In either case the blog is 98% functional (woo-hoo!) and I'm going to bed. Hopefully between those two accomplishments I'll be able to do something a bit more substantive with the weekend.
Keep on a-truckin'
-Joe
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
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| Mr. Mammy, you repulse me with your rambling banter . . .:: ungeziefer | | 11:34 PM |
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(Truly, no--I do but jest.)
I say to you: Be kind to the animals, for they, too, have souls, which might be damned to eternal hellfire, should they be provoked, into eating you or parts of you, so sayeth the Creator.
And I say to you: Do not hold grudges against thy neighbor for his past transgressions, for one day you might wish to borrow from him his lawn mower.
And finally: If you look at the world and see only darkness, fear not, for the Lord shall guide you across the street, and down a man hole.
Amen.
who rocks the mic?
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| the Zen of Joe. Part 1:: Joe | | 12:45 AM |
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In my attempt to recreate the world in my own image--regardless of reality, I've decided to open the Joe-Mammy.com Zen academy. Of course the overhead is waaaaaay to expensive to actually open much of anything other than a fresh bag of cornnuts, so I'll just throw up my little snippets right here on the Blog of Universal Oneness. Enjoy...
The first step to complete Mammy-ness is to not want to be Mammy-like
When I woke up, say, five years ago (where all of this silliness really really began, but that's a story I'm likely going to avoid for a long time...) I didn't hop out of bed and say to myself "I'm going to be Joe Mammy and be the beacon for all that is funkariffic for entire generation." Nope, I probably wondered why I was awake at that particular moment instead of still being asleep. (It's a daily question, trust me...) And then wondered what purpose there was to me being awake. Then I'd think that maybe the question was moot because I was going back to sleep. Then I'd wonder why I couldn't back to sleep. Then I'd just get irritated and get out of bed, even though I was still tired and no real purpose in actually being conscious at that particular point in time (or for any foreseeable future, for that matter...) So how did it all come together, you ask? Because I didn't want it to come together.
You see, many times it's much more psychologically rewarding to suffer continuously against some sort of universal machination--especially if you think that at some point those around you will actually notice and be impressed by said suffering. While pro-ballplayers make the big money, no one is as loved as a martyr. But thing is, long-term self-induced suffering is like going on a hunger strike when no one cares or (better yet) no one knows. Sure there's a degree of self-congratulatory "check out my discipline" mentality at work, but in the end you're just hungry.
So, there I was, metaphorically hungry trying to stare down the bologna sandwich of life (and let's face it, life isn't gonna be one of those deli sandwiches with hand carved slow-roasted cured meats, it's gonna be the massed produced boring and compositionally suspect kinda sandwiches--bologna. Maybe even Spam. But I digress...) Thing is, no matter how long you stare you're going to lose because sandwiches don't have eyes. Absurd? Yes. Truthful? Trust me.
And one day there came a point where I just said "screw it" and took a nibble of sandwich. The world didn't end and no one thought less of me for it. And that's when it all starts. You still think of yourself as on a hunger strike, but you snack away. Soon you're eating full meals (granted, meals of bologna and white bread, but meals...) and then you look and realize you're nothing like the person you wanted to convince people you were. What's more you look back and realize, none of them really care either way.
So, where does that leave you? Who are you? You're not a martyr anymore. You're not some Dionysian hedonism freak, either. You're just someone. Maybe your name is Bill. Maybe your name is Trent. My name was Joe. It's the wonderfully banal process of becoming what you are. Extraordinary because there is no process per se, just a point in time where you can look back on and say that you kinda figured out what it was you were.
Sit my lil' wallabees and listen to a parable:
Once upon a time Phil went to his mother and said "I want to be President."
Phil's mom didn't say much, but nodded supportively.
Phil tried hard and did his best, but he couldn't become the president.
He went to his mom after that and said "I want to be a famous painter."
Again, mom didn't say much.
After Phil realized he wasn't particularly good at painting he thought he'd try and be a zookeeper.
His mother seemed to be tiring of these incessant attempts at different lives, but said nay a discouraging word.
Phil again fell short of his goal and decided that he could be happy doing the most menial of work. He could be a physical laborer and still feel like he had accomplished something.
Phil said to his mother "I'm going to be a lumberjack."
At which point his mother finally sighed and said, "Phil, you have your own special gifts in this life and you seem to be missing them all by wanting to be something you're not.
"What's more, you're a tree, so stop all this lumberjack talk and stand here quietly like the rest of us; you're upsetting the neighbors..."
Thus sprach Joe Mammy...
Monday, April 12, 2004
Holy crap. This weekend was a veritable cornucopia of ass-suckage. Hence the lack of updates. At this point I'm pretty much willing to say the Catholic Church is absolutely clueless for going against the whole birth control thing. Trust me, I'm pretty sure that the world won't be worse off if we end up having a few less folks running around. Anyway.
A little work was done of the grocery store story (like, two paragraphs... whoopety-doo...) but it's at least moving forward a bit. Hopefully I'll have a little time on my days off (and the motivation) to start getting a couple things wrapped up. Good Mr. Platypus Man was a busy little robotic death monkey this weekend and it looks like the KFKOD site will soon be up and running in a more functional kind of way. 'Tis a good thing.
Also, Cardinals sweep the Diamondbacks and the Avs have a 2-0 playoff lead. At least the rest of the world seemed to right itself over the weekend. Welp, as always, don't be afraid to give a shout out and hopefully I'll have something more substantive for all my filthy little earth pigs later in the week...
-Joe
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