Archives for: April 2006

Respectable Citizen

posted by ben on 06.04.27 at 01:45, null, music, seattle, Leave a comment Permalink

I wandered around tonight and it felt like walking down the mall... until I ran into several men with dying arms selling drugs in the International District... and that was depressing. So, then I was wondering around, quite angry... fantasizing about cops chasing drug dealers away from anywhere that it's nice to walk at night...

So I went to Collin's Pub, got a Hale's and listened to a band called Respectable Citizen that seems to have no web presence... not even on myspace... One of the two keyboardists said they were influenced by King Crimson and Frank Zappa, but they sound like New Order and Information Society... and the keyboardist looks like he came from Flock of Seagulls... not that that's a bad thing...

plowman's stilton

posted by ben on 06.04.26 at 00:28, null, null, food, pictures, Leave a comment Permalink

A new pastiche... I'm going to be Ramanujan to New New American. I found a copy of Larousse in Colorado and then developed new recipes living in a vacuum...

When I was in Liverpool, oh how I love writing that... when I was in Liverpool I stopped at a cafe and had a Plowman's Stilton: a plate with a crust of bread, a pot of chutney, several slices of beefsteak tomato, some redleaf and a big slice of greasy stilton.

Of course, I didn't have any chutney so I used mustard.

It's amazing how the tomato complements the cheese.

blueberry hazelnut chocolate tart things

posted by ben on 06.04.25 at 23:55, null, null, food, pictures, Leave a comment Permalink

See... see... I make art.

Fear of turning into boingboing

posted by ben on 06.04.25 at 23:51, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink
by wave of flipfloperotic (I was hitting next blog quite a bit)

Stupid ass interwebs

posted by ben on 06.04.24 at 03:59, null, rant, rant, rave, Leave a comment Permalink

The spambots are inexorably turning nonplatonic into a bonified link farm and the blogging world is tedious as all hell. It doesn't seem that I'll be going to Italy anytime soon, regardless of the number of dueling pistols I purchase... and things generally look grim. If only I could create beautiful things... then I wouldn't be in the company of those who talk about making art while failing to do so... and then everything would be ok... not that I believe that for a moment... clearly that's not all that's going on... at least that's what I continue to repeat to myself... building to a new mantra... a new religion... a new... oh... I give up... So?

So what? What are you going to do? Any suggestions? How's your life going? Why are you so happy with it? Because you don't think about it? Or, are you somehow genuinely better off? Well, fine... fuck you then...

And this is supposed to turn me on how?

Fucking and reading? Yeah, I could do that.... for a while at least.

End of Days

posted by graham on 06.04.21 at 01:15, Rants, rant, null, 2 comments Permalink

Is it just me, or did the blogoshpere run out of gas recently? Boingboing is basically played-out, JWZ has given up and become a Mac screensaver discussion board, MAKE is all LED flashlights and cutesy turd-shaped crochet iPod cozies, the uber-hot-blog-chicks' egos have enveloped most of southeast asia, and everybody else has more or less stopped blogging altogether.

Comment from: graham [Member] ·
Maybe that's it... maybe the boingboings and jwzs have a much more limited focus than I always thought.
Permalink 04/22/06 @ 23:23
Comment from: ben [Member] ·
It's the end of everything. One email in the last two days... the blogs I read are all dead... an alarming lack of phone calls. It's not looking good.
Permalink 04/23/06 @ 16:02

Do spambots use a context free grammar?

posted by collin on 06.04.19 at 06:55, null, math, nonsense, math, random, 1 comment Permalink

Thanks for the special work and information! bed bug prevention exquisite image photography raymond chandler 22 inch wheels name database dandy don football hairless slit produce blue book

"raymond chandler"?

I guess there aren't any conjunctions or propositions so the answer to my question is probably no. Anybody know what statistical measures would show whether or not it's just a random sampling from some lexicon? Also, anybody know where I could get nice downloadable well formatted lexicon that tells you what part of speech the words are?

Comment from: marco [Member] ·
My guess is spambots use Markov models to generate text, trained on samples of real text. Probably second-order (bigram) models, or maybe third-order (trigram).

There are some standard corpora that NLP people use for testing. I don't know where to get them off the top of my head, but one of them is the "Brown corpus" (from the university, presumably) and you can probably find it courtesy of Google. It's a tagged corpus, as are some of the other well-known ones I don't remember the names of.
Permalink 04/20/06 @ 13:43

hush duckie with tabasco aioli

posted by ben on 06.04.13 at 02:28, null, null, food, Leave a comment Permalink

by Graham

in case anyone was entertaining the thought that Kurzweil isn't a moron...

posted by ben on 06.04.13 at 02:28, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink

"Biology would be a lot more stable if we moved away from regulation-which is extremely irrational and onerous and doesn’t appropriately balance risks. Many medications are not available today even though they should be. The FDA always wants to know what happens if we approve this and will it turn into a thalidomide situation that embarrasses us on CNN?"

-Ray Kurzweil, Interview

Build me a bike trail

posted by graham on 06.04.13 at 01:14, null, seattle, Bicycles, 2 comments Permalink

While trail building may not be one of the official good deeds, I would sure appreciate anyone who helped build this for me.

Comment from: ben [Member] ·
Yes, the soothing sounds of I-5. It truly is wonderful to get out and go cycling...
Permalink 04/13/06 @ 01:22
Comment from: graham [Member] ·
Yes, it is soothing isn't it. It sounds like a river rushing down a mountain. I am somewhat concerned that once the trail is finished, people might be lulled to sleep and ride off the trail into one of those big concrete pillars.
Permalink 04/22/06 @ 23:27

I want to be a heroic coward.

The man who admits to himself that he is a coward has made a step towards conquering his fear; but the man who frankly admits it to everyone, who asks that you recognize it in him and make allowance for it in dealing with him, is on the way to becoming a hero. Such a man is often surprised, when the crucial test comes, to find that he knows no fear. Having lost the fear of regarding himself as a coward he is one no longer; only the demonstration is needed to prove the metamorphosis. It is the same in love. The man who admits not only to himself but to his fellow men, and even to the woman he adores, that he can be twisted around a woman's finger, that he is helpless where the other sex is concerned, usually discovers that he is the more powerful of the two. Nothing breaks a woman down more quickly than complete surrender. A woman is prepared to resist, to be laid siege to: she has been trained to behave that way. When she meets no resistance she falls headlong into the trap. To be able to give oneself wholly and completely is the greatest luxury that life affords. Real love only begins at this point of dissolution.

-Henry Miller, Sexus, pg. 229

... Having satisfied herself to her heart's content, she had probably realized for the first time that it was useless to harbor a grudge against the other woman. If, she may have told herself, if it were possible to be fucked like that whenever she wished, it wouldn't matter what claims the other one had on me. Perhaps it entered her mind for the first time that possession is nothing if you can't surrender yourself. Perhaps she even went so far as to think that it might be better this way-- having me protect her and fuck her and not having to get angry with me because of jealous fears... fucked without the fear of being betrayed...

-Henry Miller, Sexus, pg. 241-242

The Troubadour Show

posted by ben on 06.04.12 at 22:40, null, music, music, seattle, Leave a comment Permalink

So, I, uh, met this guy named Emery, which I thought was emory, last night... and he was alright... and he knows Gary, who lives upstairs... and they sometimes play music, so that was amusing...

It was outside the Bauhaus (which serves Zeitgeist Coffee (back right)), of course.

I also bought a piece of jewelry that involves a blue glass bead and a piece of "ti rebar wire," assuming such a thing even exists... from a man wearing black, who was black and had black dreadlocks... but despite all the disparate shades of black... had smiling eyes.

He was named Carl... but otherwise he seemed ok.

at least matt will love me

posted by ben on 06.04.12 at 22:32, null, coffee, coffee, 1 comment Permalink

Don't sample the product.

Comment from: graham [Member] ·
Boy, who suggested all of those coffees? What a bunch of crap, if I may say so myself. You know there's a reason most people prefer Folgers. It's because it's freeze dried, that's why. Freeze dried coffee tastes better, plain and simple.
And what the hell is with those names, anyway? All those V's and Z's. C'mon people, get with the program.
Permalink 04/22/06 @ 23:45

promise me poems

All afternoon cutting bramble blackberries off a tottering brown fence
under a low branch with its rotten apricots miscellaneous under the leaves,
fixing the drip in the intricate gut machinery of a new toilet;
found a good coffeepot in the vines by the porch, rolled a big tire out of the scarlet bushes, hid my marijuana;
wet the flowers, playing the sunlit water each to each, returning for godly extra drops for the stringbeans and daisies;
three times walked round the grass and sighed absently:
my reward, when the garden fed me its plums from the form of a small tree in the corner,
an angel thoughtful of my stomach, and my dry and lovelorn tongue.
-Allen Ginsberg, "A Strange New Cottage in Berkeley"

farscape and the melodrama

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 20:02, null, music, music, Leave a comment Permalink

Eating all the right food, taking all the right pills, turning on the TV,
Just trying to make the days a little shorter so the night comes quicker when I see you.

But the food doesn’t work,
and the pills don’t work and the silence hurts,
Can’t make myself fitter for you no matter how I try.

And the science fiction helps just a little,
numbs a little piece of me,
And the noise from the neighbours helps just a little,
Stops me from missing you.
And the stabbing in my heart it starts once too often,
why won’t you soften those blows?

Cause what you do to me stays with me,
Oh Honey I can’t wait till you're with me,
I need your body underneath me, every single night.

All my soul record spin on the Hifi, make me feel like god is within me, but he’s not, it’s a lie, I am empty.

When you’re gone, it’s all wrong, need your hips in my hands,
Need your lips on my neck right now.

-Hefner, "The Science Fiction"


posted by devin on 06.04.10 at 07:24, Absurdities, coffee, null, Leave a comment Permalink
As cool as the pale wet leaves 
    of lily-of-the-valley 
She lay beside me in the dawn.


posted by collin on 06.04.10 at 06:50, null, nonsense, random, technology, tech, Leave a comment Permalink

Koolstof is een scheikundig element met symbool C en atoomnummer 6. Het is een kleurloos niet-metaal.

Carbon is a chemical element with symbol C and nuclear number 6. it is colourlessly nonmetal.

[idea via kolstof surfboards, dutch via wikipedia, english via babelfish]

somebody post... now.

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 06:11, null, coffee, coffee, seattle, Leave a comment Permalink

El Diablo, Seattle. I ought to go here... there... whatever.

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 05:29, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink

It's a hundred billion degrees under this blanket and you're all asleep... so you can't stop me.

some day english literature majors will study my allusions.

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 05:19, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink

...cleared the table off and there were 20 people eating pasta and no one was lonely. Everything was as it should be for a few hours, but then it faded.

"Part of growing up is learning to be alone." No.

Growing up is the ability to surround yourself with the people you love. I hope I grow up soon. Lonesome no more.

a horse is like an alligator.

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 05:10, null, null, pictures, Leave a comment Permalink

Cursh with Eyeliner was prescient.

from the earlier works of genius, the ones responsible for this mess

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 04:34, null, null, puppies, Leave a comment Permalink

Imagine her standing upright. Her new posture transforms her into a different person. Imagine that man smiling at the passerby, maybe he’ll learn how to make friends. Imagine nothing.

I’m concerned about the hairs on my toes. There’re less of them than there used to be. I may be dying.

mellowship slinky

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 04:27, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink

To quote Crosby, "this feels like deja vu all over again." The misery, the crepe pans, Portland... it's all familiar... and I don't know why or when it could have happened... is this the eternal recurrence? I'll have none of it then.

I have completely lost the alligator.

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 04:08, null, null, pictures, Leave a comment Permalink

I have completely lost the alligator, but the fact that I am concerned about it makes me both cute and romantic, right? right? please be right...

Also, I need more mirrors...

Chili Peppers over and over until it goes away... I should be older and younger... I'm not the right age.

Find me a hat with an alligator and I'll love you forever... Let's move to Guadalajara.

another one of those nights... come back...

posted by ben on 06.04.10 at 03:42, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink

Let's have a duel... let's have a brawl... Welsh something... I'll be Irish today... long live Dylan Thomas and Behan... another Guinness for the crowd... my ancestors knew what communes were while yours were busy raping... fuck it all... let's live on the coast with clouds and peace and lettuce... we can eat kale and salmon... where have all the people wearing sandals gone? My only method of transportation involves a paddle and blisters... bring me the sunshine and a wetsuit... let's never get out of bed again... anywhere it's soft and red... I want to kill some people responsible for my misery... fuck pacifism... fuck you. fucker. fuck.

posted by ben on 06.04.09 at 03:56, null, null, Leave a comment Permalink

How many lonely people have to get together for none of them to be lonely?

If a lonely person finds a group of non-lonely people are they no longer lonely? If a lonely person finds a single other person who is somehow not lonely by themselves, can the two become un-lonely?

Assuming collecting lonely people together can transmute them into non-lonely people, is there an optimal number? Clearly too few lonely people remain lonely... but if you get too many lonely people together, do they collapse under the weight of their despair?

inexpicably bland artichoke gnocchi

posted by ben on 06.04.07 at 18:02, null, null, food, pictures, 2 comments Permalink
Comment from: Alex [Visitor] ·
It's the blue plate that is making your food bland! It makes it all look sort of melancholy, like Picasso's painting of the old guitarist.
Permalink 04/08/06 @ 18:55
Comment from: ben [Member] ·
The plate's white... so, it's the light that's making my food sad... which is to say that Seattle is making my food sad.
Permalink 04/09/06 @ 03:45


posted by marco on 06.04.07 at 13:51, funny, in the news, random, null, Leave a comment Permalink

You knew it was coming...the RIAA and MPAA finally joined forces.

posted by ben on 06.04.04 at 04:36, null, null, 2 comments Permalink

People on myspace are less perfect than in reality. It's making me feel better.

Comment from: collin [Member] ·
Huh? Am I parsing this correctly? Since xx your sentence is equivalent to:
"People in reality are more perfect than on myspace."
Permalink 04/06/06 @ 20:15
Comment from: collin [Member] ·
WTF? If my comment is getting turned into xml it should escape certain characters. That's supposed to read: "x less than y iff y greater then x"
Permalink 04/06/06 @ 20:20

new favorite crap indie band

posted by ben on 06.04.04 at 02:21, null, music, music, 1 comment Permalink

when he's holding then the streetlights seem an awful lot like spotlites. sometimes charlemagne gets uptight. running numbers between bars. running girls between the cars. and sometimes charlemagne feels all right. all right.

charlemagne had eyes like a lover. but last winter there was weather and his eyes they iced right over. cassanova's in the corner and he's asking for a dance. speedshooters driving round and coming down and tryna hook up with an exit ramp.

tramps like us and we like tramps. charlemagne's got something in his sweatpants.

holly was supposed to be at ccd but she was down on shady streets. she was looking round for something she could take up to a party. and it's not like she's enslaved. it's more like she's enthralled. she don't need it but she likes it. so she always makes that call. first it makes her feel tall then it makes her feel small and it's all a sweet fleeting feeling. they did the "been caught stealing" into "dancing on the ceiling." and you're damn right we danced. charlemagne's got something in his sweatpants.

do you want me to tell it like boy meets girl and the rest is history? or do you want it like a murder mystery? i'm gonna tell it like a comeback story. 'cause we when we left we were defeated and depressed. and when we arrived we were ripping high. we had a gun in the glovebox. we had some sweet stuff tucked into our socks. we had jesus christ in all his glory.

-The Hold Steady, "Charlemagne in Sweatpants"
Comment from: scott [Member] ·
Ah, junkie rockers...

Am I wrong?
Permalink 05/01/06 @ 21:39

paste itch: impulsive naming

posted by ben on 06.04.04 at 02:12, null, null, on writing, Leave a comment Permalink

Pat Benatar eats mussels with Chopin in a carriage by the sea.

George Michael breaks his leg canyoneering in a snowstorm and is saved by Billy Collins and Buddah.

Patrick Lawler peels the melted glasses off the corpse of Buddy Holly.

posted by ben on 06.04.04 at 02:10, null, null, on writing, Leave a comment Permalink
late at night
i want to ask you
do you love me

yes, but not enough
no, but i could
do i know you?

The French Laundry Knives

posted by graham on 06.04.02 at 22:20, Rants, books, technology, rant, Toys, Other, null, 1 comment Permalink

Comment from: ben [Member] ·
Something really bothers me about this. The knives look nice, but Thomas Keller is supposed to be different from Emeril in every way.

Since I believe everything Bourdain says as though it were axiomatic, I've now dismissed Keller through this superficial similarity to Emeril in favor of what's his name at Veritas... of course I would never eat any of the food at Veritas since I'm a fish eating foodie... so this is all very academic.
Permalink 04/07/06 @ 17:48

posted by ben on 06.04.01 at 14:03, null, null, 1 comment Permalink

Poetry, novels... I don't care. Somebody tell me what to read.

Comment from: graham [Member] ·
Warren Ellis' "Transmetropolitan" perhaps.
Permalink 04/01/06 @ 17:37