mcgees.org

Courtney Love on Graham Norton, discussing Prince Andrew dropping by her house late at night, uninvited:

CL: He asked me, “So, what do you do all day?”

GN: Oh, that’s rich, coming from him!

3FLM?  Qu’est que c’est?

I’m trying to be a myth.  Give us cash!

No, it’s Three-Favorite-Living Meme.  And, everybody up!  It’s audience participation time.  Subscribe!  One point for answering an existing category, one point for proposing a new category, and an extra point for doing the two simultaneously.  And eat one hat for every mistake you realize you made.

Example: Three-Favorite-Living Directors:

1. Danny Boyle
2. David Fincher
3. Quentin Tarantino

3FL Novelists:

1. David Mitchell
2. Neal Stephenson
3. David Foster Wallace

3FL Film Actors (male)

1. Robert DeNiro
2. Ralph Fiennes
3. Edward Norton

3FL Comedians:

1. Craig Ferguson
2. Eddie Izzard
3. Graham Norton

3FL Guitarists:

1. Jerry Cantrell
2. Tom Morello
3. John Petrucci

15 points to me.  On to you!

Bionic Woman has been remade.  I actually found out about this because I have a TiVo wishlist for “Bionic Woman”, hoping to catch reruns of the 1976 Lindsay Wagner version.  It’s filled the Alias void in my life.

I called Alias a “guilty pleasure”, but that was rhetoric.  The new Bionic Woman is profoundly a guilty pleasure.  Isaiah Washington, whom I used to have unlimited respect for following his performance on H:LOTS is in the cast, after being fired for confrontational bigotry (which I do not sanction) from Jenn’s favorite show.  I told myself I wouldn’t watch his next show.  But here I am.  Guilty.

And Michelle Ryan, the title character?  She is no Lindsay Wagner, who is smoldering even now, thirty years later.  She’s not even Jennifer Garner.  And they apparently can’t afford a good makeup artist.  In one episode, one sees a “file photo” of her, which appears for all the world to be her casting headshot.  So she can obviously be pretty, even strikingly so, especially windblown, but they just have not figured out how to do it on the show yet.  She is pasty.  And, she can’t really act.  You can’t really jump from EastEnders to being an action lead, I guess.  Her American accent is good, and not offensive, but her Middlesex accent (which they let her use on the show once) is hot.

That said, it must truly suck to be upstaged by your “fifteen-year-old sister”, who can act and is ravishing (and is, bless me, 18 in real life.)  The supporting cast are great, too: Miguel Ferrer is always a fave, and the “the award goes to” Katee Sackhoff is really what makes the show watchable.  That, and the choreography.

Am I recommending the show?  Not really.  It pretty much sucks.  But I like it, and it’s one of two shows I’m watching right now.  I don’t know how long it will last, and what will happen when Sackhoff’s other filming obligations kick in.  But in the meantime: Girl Power!

I got Niall’s virus, and have been running a 102.6°F (39.2°C) temperature.  As a further illustration of the differences between this employer and my former employer, they are demanding that I stay home, rather than demanding that I come in.  Which makes me feel like a loser.  But at least I have a lot of dense material to study to pass the time.

One sees weird stories by watching for Google pages about Joshua McGee.  Does anyone else think I’d be laughed out of writing class (and then sent to the shrink) by naming my murderer Joshua Cain Outlaw?

Not to make light of this one, as there is, after all, a dead kindergartener and a fucked-up US Marine, but really, Joshua Cain Outlaw?

OK, Joel Schumacher and I are done.  I thought we were done after 8MM, then I bought Veronica Guerin (which I didn’t know he directed, and I liked it, Blanchett redeeming it as always), but now I saw The Number 23, which has turned me into a box-reader.  Seriously.  He can fuck off.  His upcoming films are entitled Town Creek, 1:30 Train, and The Crowded Room.

My phone whines at 12 kHz.  All the time.  This is tinnitus-range.  Anyone else?  And have there been any reported self-inflicted deaths?

Running Linux and want to test your hearing?  Beep!  Try:

beep -l 10000 -f 12000

Niall and Sebastian recovering together on a couch bed, Niall from a virus and Sebastian (the furry one) from a liver condition.

I took a profoundly bad Philosophy of Art class at University.  I can elaborate.  But not now.

Anyway, my thesis was that art is process, not product.  If you end up with an object or a text at the end, that’s fine, and people can inspect it, but the art part is done with when the product is generated.  Paint a picture and burn it: you’ve accomplished an artistic endeavor.

My professor hated this argument.  As a powerful counterexample, he brought in a matted and framed piece, in oils on fabric.  It was beautiful.  He challenged me whether this was art.  I immediately assented.  Then, as his devastating blow, he explained (I wrote exclaimed, which works, too) that this was a rag for cleaning brushes that he had fished out of the art department’s trashcan.  Tada, found art.

No, I countered, you have found beauty.  The “art” is fishing it out of the trashcan and framing it!

Anyway, that annoyed him.  But, so, long story, there is no found art.  But found beauty?  I’d stare at this picture I took today in a gallery for hours:

The Salaryman

As regular readers will know, my surviving cat, Sebastian, has a liver condition.  He has a tube surgically grafted onto his esophagus, and we are force-feeding him via syringe.  His food?  Made up of pig liver, poultry liver, and fish liver.  Now, while pig liver is a delicacy in some cultures, there is probably an abundance available in the US market as a slaughterhouse byproduct.  But poultry livers are eaten, and fish oil is used medicinally, so the food is probably not entirely waste products.  Actual killing, of species otherwise immune to microfeline predation, is going on to sustain my cat who has a natural condition.  We have to go back to Gnathostomata to unite these “food” products; they are from different classes entirely.  Such is the price of miniaturizing, domesticating, and doting upon carnivores, I suppose.

How do I feel about this?  Not sure.  PETA (fuck ‘em, but I’ll talk about them) has a compelling shirt that shows a cow and pig juxtaposed against a cat and dog.  “Why love one and eat the other?” it demands.  “Make the connection.”

OK, connection made.  But I love my cat.  And apparently, I’m willing to kill for it.

I took the train to work today.  Note to self: do not miss the 07h30 out of Union Station.  The next one is at 08h50, which, while it gives you time to buy an Almond Joy, gets you to work rather late.

Best case one way seems like 2 to 2.25 hours.  The Metrolink is exceedingly pleasant, and the Gold Line’s not too bad.  And I can do productive stuff: work, or watch movies, or listen to podcasts.  Or today, sleep.  On both trains.  The whole way.

A friend sent me the following charming picture:

“Hi!”

Back to bed.

I’m trying to take the train in to work tomorrow.  Wish me luck.  This is, after all, Los Angeles.  Any day now (ominous voice) the 118/210 is going to be closed due to a fire.  And I’m feeling environmental.

Fed the cat (syringe + g-tube + coöperative cat = not too bad).  Time for bed.  See you at 02h00.

My A2 gives me a “DivX video on demand key”.  It tells me to go to http://www.divx.com/vod.  It redirects me, then I get a screen that simply says, “It works!”

Sorry to be the one to break it to you, guys and gals, but it doesn’t.

The Cowon A2 is a portable media player (think juiced-up iPod).  I can strongly recommend it.  Key features:

• Mounts as a USB volume, so it’s Linux-compatible (as well as Windows and Mac)
• Has a 4-inch 16 x 9 (widescreen) high-contrast LCD display (much larger than the iPod’s)
• Plays a ton of formats, many more than iPod, including XviD and FLAC, as well as your normal MP3, AVI, etc.
• Can output RCA A/V, or record from any RCA A/V source (such as your DVD player, TiVO, VCR, camcorder, etc.)
• Ten-hour playback time on one charge
• Case folds back into a viewing stand.  Case is also really cleverly designed, to allow open access to ports, switches, buttons, and speakers.
• Ability to work as a USB host, so you can plug flash drives, digital cameras, and so forth into it
• Lots of features I haven’t explored yet: use it to read documentation, see lyrics to your songs as they play, graphic equalizer, tune/record FM radio, schedule A/V recordings

Wishlist:

• Wi-Fi connectivity plus web browser (via USB WiFi adapter)
• “Shuffle” toggle from within playlist browser rather than through Music Options
• Automatic recognition of letterboxed NTSC, to expand into full-screen 16 x 9

All these should be possible through firmware hacks.  I don’t know if anyone is working on it yet.

In Windows, the easiest way to convert DVD video to video viewable on the A2 seems to be DVD Decrypter followed by AutoGK.

American Education Services is harvesting email addresses, with the carrot being a $10,000 payment towards your student loans.  I thought it was worth it.  Note that their CAPTCHA text for the contest is case-sensitive.

Niall woke up feverish and vomiting.  We think he has the flu.  Very inconvenient timing, as I’m supposed to be at work in a handful of hours.

Sebastian is tolerating his g-tube and syringe-injected food, and is happy to be home.  We’re feeding him every four hours, 35 ml at a time, along with 10 ml of water.

I’m enjoying just being with him and cuddling him.  He was away for too long.

Sebastian is home, and we have Mika’s ashes now.  He will be going in for a checkup next week.

Seriously, it hasn’t ceased to amaze me, the outpouring.  More hamster stories, eight this month alone.

One of my new colleagues, an extremely talented and friendly one, saw my text of “Mika, we love you” on the top of mcgees.org.  She asked who Mika was.  Turned out, her dog, named Mika, died three years ago.

OK, I’ve listened to the album Lovelorn probably seven times straight through, and it really stands up to repeat listening.  I just would love a version with a real symphonic backing, rather than a synth.  I actually have a spare copy, and maybe two, if someone wants it.

Or, order it:

Niall is getting very close to declaring his personal vegetarianism.  I’ve been wondering if he would, and kind of expecting that he would, but trying not to push him.  He is a very sensitive soul, and the recent business with the cats has exposed him to death for really the first time, and he can generalize pain now, so the layout is pretty straightforward from here.

He has told me before that he eats fish, but not real fish.  Then he told me that he doesn’t eat fish with faces (this is, I swear, completely unprompted.)  Last night I ordered dinner for him.  He was asking me what I had eaten before.  He asked me if I had eaten a ‘gator.

N:  A real ‘gator?!?

J:  Yes.

N:  A whole ‘gator?!?

J:  No.

N:  And have you eaten fish?

J:  Yes.  So have you.

N:  (Big pause.)  Real fish?

J:  Yes.  When you eat fish, you’re eating real fish.  Usually.

N:  Have you eaten really big fish?

J:  Sometimes.  But I try not to eat many big fish.

N:  Why?

J:  Because there aren’t very many of them, and if we eat them all, they’ll be gone.

N:  Gone?

J:  Yes.  If we eat them up.  But Mommy doesn’t eat any fish.

N:  Why?

J:  I think because she doesn’t want to hurt the fish.

N:  It hurts the fish?

J:  Well, yes.  But I don’t think fish hurt too much.  (Alan Rickman intones in the background, “The benefits of a Nirvana education.”)

N:  (Hard drive grinding, grinding, grinding away.  He’s far away.  Then the light comes back on.)  I don’t want to hurt ammamulls.

J:  Not cows?

N:  No.

J:  Not pigs?

N:  No.

J:  Not birds?

N:  No.

J:  Not fish?

N:  No!

J:  OK, then that’s being called a vegetarian.  You can tell people that, or just tell them that you don’t eat animals.

N:  (Trying it out.)  I don’t eat ammamulls.

J:  OK.

N:  (With determination.)  But I do eat things made from ammamulls.

J:  The animal has to die for you to make food from it.

N:  You have to die the animals?

J:  Yes.

N:  You have to die the animals?

J:  Yes.

N:  How do they die the animals?

J:  (OK, really didn’t want it to come to this.  So forgive me for this one, Jenn.)  Well, usually they shoot them in the head.

N:  They shoot them in the head?

J:  Yes.  Cows, anyway.

N:  I don’t want to hurt cows.

J:  OK.

N:  I don’t eat ammamulls.

J:  OK.

N:  (With determination.)  But I do eat things made from ammamulls.

J:  OK.

You can now see my Recently Viewed Films in addition to my Recently Read Books.  I attempt to assign an astral scalar value to each.

Actually, my previous digs were an office.  With a door.  But Cubeville’s not as bad as it’s made out to be.

A shot, with my shaky hands, before it gets covered with paperwork:

Perilous name is Leaves’ Eyes.  Pretty much impossible to communicate verbally without spelling it out and punctuating it for the listener.  But, yes, there’s a band called Leaves’ Eyes.

They do beauty-and-the-beast symphonic metal.  And the title track (”chapter”) from their album (”book”?) Lovelorn is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.  Seriously.  It displaces Enya’s Exile to Position 2 and the Christian hymn How Great Thou Art (yeah, yeah, I know, I’m funny that way) to Position 3.

I’m not linking it.  I’m not trying to make a sale.  Don’t go listen to a thirty-second clip of it on Amazon; you have to hear the song build.  I would be happy to break a zillion different copyright laws and email you an mp3 of it.  Then, you will probably buy it.

Billions of debt, much incurred corruptly, is hampering the development of the third world and leading to actual suffering, misery, and death.  Write to your congressperson asking him or her to support H.R. 2634.