Today’s net radio… good schtuff fer Schkotto.

Hova’s Hit parade.
http://wfmu.org/playlists/HN

lost the entry to an unforseen crash.

WE got attacked…the firewall was down. Feh on the poor solimar machine who died… fortunately it was backed up just last night. a minor hassle to put software back on.

What I was saying was that I’m enjoying taking the bus lately over taxicabs. better for the environment, my billfold, and my writing time. an infinitude of people-watching is available, and the types change according to what time it is.

some observations… on any bus that I ride on with at least five passengers, at least one is bound to be a social misfit with the others. sometimes they’re loud, sometimes they’re drunk, sometimes they smell bad, sometimes they’re just disturbing to the “feng shui” of the rest of the bus. if it was a cartoon, they’d be the ones with the stange eyes darting, perhaps with spirals or a scribble over head, maybe just muttering strings of profanities or unconnected words slightly under their breath. Especially in winter, they come South to where it’s warm. They’re generally safe to be around, except for the sharp social edges grating against the others. When I get on a loaded bus, and there’s no weirdness I begin to wonder if I just missed someone, or if I’m the requesite weirdo scaring the more timid passengers. (I am a freaky giant pod-person yeti-beast, y’know.) I feel a strange drive to protect the others on the bus from folks like that, plus I get a kick out of talking to people I might not normally converse with. A lot of folks really open up to you, and will blather on about the most esoteric topics from the stereotypical government conspiracies and aliens to some really nifty family histories.

Sunday bus – Cleaned up folks going to church, happy people on the day off, more kids with a case of the sillies

Monday bus – angry people going to work, grumpies reading newspaper, sleepy folks waiting to get to a more distant destination. less traffic.

these vibes spin off into the misfits. they’re like sounding boards of the environment. there’s a creature in tibetan mythology called a tulpa. The word Tulpa is from the Tibetan language and refers to any entity that attains reality solely by the act of imagination. The entity is created entirely within the confines of ones own mind, not drawn out, written down or even verbally described. I think a lot of the time, folks that fear or are upset around such folk may make them more dangerous than if they were more at ease.. I sometimes think that if they fear the misfit person being dangerous, that the self-fulfilling prophecy helps it along… showing weakness or fear instead of friendliness or indifference perhaps kicks in the more agressive instincts. anyhow, back to what I was saying, I’ve found that being the one to talk to them with a friendly voice eases my mind, too… I’m more able to see which way the wind is blowing, so to speak. Plus, being the aforementioned pod-yeti, I can converse fairly easily… I don’t look like a cop or a pretty woman… a soothing voice and a large form seems to put those people at ease most of the time, and I’m at little to no risk of robbery or attack. I’ve been viewed as a bird of a feather, and I get rarely hit up for cash… or if they do hit me up, they don’t take it as personally as if they asked the more clean cut or well-off yuppie. (flipside, cops and people in authority assume I’m in the freaky-scary group, too.)

I know a lot of people that fall into the tulpa catagory. they shift… karma-chameleon style into the environment local to them. speech conventions, attitudes and morals, even moods seem to change to a huge degree to meet the atmosphere dujour. I’ve seen a person go from a hard-core conservative to a moderate with deep liberal leanings inside of an hour, and back again just from the people we were hanging out with… what’s stranger still, I don’t think that they noticed the self-change themselves. I know everyone shifts a little here in there, just to get by in different groups, but I’m talking about full-bore personality and appearance shift. It’s kind of disturbing… they don’t seem to have a real sense of self… repeating echoes of what’s nearby to blend in. I don’t wear many masks… or the ones I do wear are images of myself more muted, so I don’t make waves. my opinions don’t change… I just share them more openly with some folks than I do with others. when pressed, I hold the same beliefs regardless. I sometimes think that if you wear a mask long enough, you lose the face beneath. I know someone very well that has an assortment of masks… and I wonder if the person underneath them has a real face at all anymore. I used to be angry with them for being that way.. never being able to know where you really stand or what the opinion they held really was. now, I feel sort of bad for them when I think about it… are they anyone? the most identifiable aspect of what they are is being able to slip into a role really well, depending on where they are. I suspect that the person is more of a piece of the set than a real personality any more.

It’s hard for me to understand, let alone respect a person that doesn’t stand up for what they believe in. What happens if what they believe in changes greatly from moment to moment? They’re still people. What’s the opposite of a pod? Tulpa isn’t quite it… but it’s close. My personal reality shifts and sways a little, as does everyone that interacts with surroundings at all. But we all have a few anchors, here and there. I think we all have beliefs that would require a lot of work to change, if they could be changed at all… except for these unusual folks that shift so fluidly.

WE got attacked…the firewall was down. Feh on the poor solimar machine who died… fortunately it was backed up just last night. a minor hassle to put software back on.

What I was saying was that I’m enjoying taking the bus lately over taxicabs. better for the environment, my billfold, and my writing time. an infinitude of people-watching is available, and the types change according to what time it is.

some observations… on any bus that I ride on with at least five passengers, at least one is bound to be a social misfit with the others. sometimes they’re loud, sometimes they’re drunk, sometimes they smell bad, sometimes they’re just disturbing to the “feng shui” of the rest of the bus. if it was a cartoon, they’d be the ones with the stange eyes darting, perhaps with spirals or a scribble over head, maybe just muttering strings of profanities or unconnected words slightly under their breath. Especially in winter, they come South to where it’s warm. They’re generally safe to be around, except for the sharp social edges grating against the others. When I get on a loaded bus, and there’s no weirdness I begin to wonder if I just missed someone, or if I’m the requesite weirdo scaring the more timid passengers. (I am a freaky giant pod-person yeti-beast, y’know.) I feel a strange drive to protect the others on the bus from folks like that, plus I get a kick out of talking to people I might not normally converse with. A lot of folks really open up to you, and will blather on about the most esoteric topics from the stereotypical government conspiracies and aliens to some really nifty family histories.

Sunday bus – Cleaned up folks going to church, happy people on the day off, more kids with a case of the sillies

Monday bus – angry people going to work, grumpies reading newspaper, sleepy folks waiting to get to a more distant destination. less traffic.

these vibes spin off into the misfits. they’re like sounding boards of the environment. there’s a creature in tibetan mythology called a tulpa. The word Tulpa is from the Tibetan language and refers to any entity that attains reality solely by the act of imagination. The entity is created entirely within the confines of ones own mind, not drawn out, written down or even verbally described. I think a lot of the time, folks that fear or are upset around such folk may make them more dangerous than if they were more at ease.. I sometimes think that if they fear the misfit person being dangerous, that the self-fulfilling prophecy helps it along… showing weakness or fear instead of friendliness or indifference perhaps kicks in the more agressive instincts. anyhow, back to what I was saying, I’ve found that being the one to talk to them with a friendly voice eases my mind, too… I’m more able to see which way the wind is blowing, so to speak. Plus, being the aforementioned pod-yeti, I can converse fairly easily… I don’t look like a cop or a pretty woman… a soothing voice and a large form seems to put those people at ease most of the time, and I’m at little to no risk of robbery or attack. I’ve been viewed as a bird of a feather, and I get rarely hit up for cash… or if they do hit me up, they don’t take it as personally as if they asked the more clean cut or well-off yuppie. (flipside, cops and people in authority assume I’m in the freaky-scary group, too.)

I know a lot of people that fall into the tulpa catagory. they shift… karma-chameleon style into the environment local to them. speech conventions, attitudes and morals, even moods seem to change to a huge degree to meet the atmosphere dujour. I’ve seen a person go from a hard-core conservative to a moderate with deep liberal leanings inside of an hour, and back again just from the people we were hanging out with… what’s stranger still, I don’t think that they noticed the self-change themselves. I know everyone shifts a little here in there, just to get by in different groups, but I’m talking about full-bore personality and appearance shift. It’s kind of disturbing… they don’t seem to have a real sense of self… repeating echoes of what’s nearby to blend in. I don’t wear many masks… or the ones I do wear are images of myself more muted, so I don’t make waves. my opinions don’t change… I just share them more openly with some folks than I do with others. when pressed, I hold the same beliefs regardless. I sometimes think that if you wear a mask long enough, you lose the face beneath. I know someone very well that has an assortment of masks… and I wonder if the person underneath them has a real face at all anymore. I used to be angry with them for being that way.. never being able to know where you really stand or what the opinion they held really was. now, I feel sort of bad for them when I think about it… are they anyone? the most identifiable aspect of what they are is being able to slip into a role really well, depending on where they are. I suspect that the person is more of a piece of the set than a real personality any more.

It’s hard for me to understand, let alone respect a person that doesn’t stand up for what they believe in. What happens if what they believe in changes greatly from moment to moment? They’re still people. What’s the opposite of a pod? Tulpa isn’t quite it… but it’s close. My personal reality shifts and sways a little, as does everyone that interacts with surroundings at all. But we all have a few anchors, here and there. I think we all have beliefs that would require a lot of work to change, if they could be changed at all… except for these unusual folks that shift so fluidly.

All the Superbowl ads, thankfully all the fox trailers are gone.

http://www.ifilm.com/superbowl/0,4806,,00.html

via the new york times.

Sheldon Allman, a songwriter and actor who was the singing voice of Mr. Ed and composed the theme songs to “George of the Jungle” and other television shows, died on Jan. 22 at his home in Culver City, Calif. He was 77.

The cause was heart failure, his family said.

In “Mr. Ed,” the popular sitcom about Wilbur Post’s talking horse, the voice of the title character was provided by Allan Lane. But whenever Mr. Ed sang, it was with the voice of Mr. Allman, who also wrote all of his own songs, like “The Pretty Little Filly With the Pony Tail” and “The Empty Feed Bag Blues.”

Mr. Allman also wrote the theme music for “Let’s Make a Deal” and for the cartoons “George of the Jungle,” “Super Chicken” and “Tom Slick,” which were parts of a half- hour animated series that had its debut in 1967. The program was short lived, with only 17 episodes produced, but it found popularity largely because of the comic theme to “George of the Jungle,” which repeatedly warned the clumsy vine swinger to “watch out for that tree.”

When a live-action film of “George” was made in 1997, starring Brendan Fraser, the one-minute tune was recorded by a trendy rock band, the Presidents of the United States of America, and integrated into the film’s full score.

Mr. Allman wrote the three cartoon themes with Stan Worth in one productive afternoon in 1967.

“Stan came over to my house,” Mr. Allman recalled in 1997. “We started at 1 o’clock, and by 4 o’clock we had three songs.”

In 1960 Mr. Allman made a comedy album, “Sing Along With Drac,” on which he sang monster-theme parodies of popular songs, including “Fangs for the Memory.”

He also collaborated with Bobby Pickett, the singer of “Monster Mash,” on a musical about Frankenstein, Dracula and the Wolfman called “I’m Sorry, the Bridge Is Out, You’ll Have to Spend the Night,” which bears a resemblance to the 1970’s film “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” but was written in 1966.

Mr. Allman, who was born in Chicago, moved to Los Angeles in 1949 and began writing music, singing in nightclubs and acting in film and television. He appeared in the films “In Cold Blood,” “Dirty Harry,” “Hud” and “All the President’s Men,” and in the television shows “Little House on the Prairie,” “The Twilight Zone” and “I Dream of Jeannie.”

He is survived by his wife, Dr. Lorraine Allman; a daughter, Anne Allman Huddleston of Los Angeles; and a brother, Sam Allman of Vancouver, British Columbia.

I had a wonderful day with the bro, a photo album, unsorted available here.

Seriously… we are bluntman and chronic. (though we don’t smoke the pot, these days.)

Time was spent visiting the art museum, the jazz brunch on riverwalk, the science museum for a lovely lunch (veggie subs at subway, his treat. 🙂 yum!) looking around at the library and the local churches, some run down buildings, a really neat underground bookstore (where I saw a RAW bok I’d never seen before…and will be back to get it payday) to get some iced tea and milk-duds, and los olas (which was a huge block party getting ready for the superbowl… people were still jovially buzzing, but there were lots of cops out and about for the dingalings that are bound to arrive with more booze or scoring happening on the wrong sides. dozens of couches and large screen TVs (REALLY LARGE, MOVIE SCREEN LARGE) were placed at the four corners of riverwalk, with plenty of brew, food and good vibes. I twas a little hot, but not too bad. Big laugh of the day, playing secret agent, taking pictures in the art gallery… a big no-no… we didn’t use any flash, so some of the pics are a little muddy, but I didn’t want to hurt any paintings or attract attention. Laughter reighned supreme with thumbprints…. a portrait of a woman, totally made of thumbprints… we created a whole history of a psycho artist kneeling over the canvas, naked except for a leather apron, giggling madly, and sticking his thumb on an inkstamp, and then to the page…. He was half gollum, half hannibal lechter.

At the library a rent-a-cop hassled me about taking pictures…out the window! Fark his noise.

I’m back now, and enjoying some applesauce, looking for non-football on TV. I got some serious sun.

And now, the obligatory Newtie pic of the day.

Good Mornin‘, Livejournal. I had wonderful dreams last night. Wrote them in my paper journal, and will transcribe when I have more time.

Well… it’s Sunday morning, and I’m going to get together with my brother today, his treat for my birthday. 🙂 I’m not sure what we are going to do… I suspect lunch and maybe a trip to the IMAX, maybe a promenade down riverwalk. I will get more recent pictures. Taking the bus down Federal.

I’m from Boston, originally, and I’m glad that the Patriots made it to the Super Bowl. aside from that and some of the nifty commercials that result, I’m not a big NFL head.

The little girl next door is running in the courtyard, and Newt is chasing her along the window sill… I don’t think the munchkin even realises that ol’ Newty-boy is hunting her. I got a mental image of a Tiger in the Asian jungle, ready to gobble her up. Shere Khan in miniature. (I guess that’d make Blackie kindly Bagheera….) Somehow, I don’t think Newtie is in danger of any Buffalo herds running him down… (Mowgli doesn’t defeat him in the book, Disney fans.) as long as he’s an indoor tiger, no fear fo cars, either.

Time for me to hop in the shower, dress, and be on my way. A full report will follow upon my return. I want spicy, crispy tofu for lunch!

MmMMM… I just had a lovely birthday. 🙂

my feelings today are muted. I have a mix going, a little numb coverage overall. I’ve got a mild headache. [update 6:21- headache has passed, feeling better physically]

With the exception of the lovely emails and calls, it doesn’t really feel like my birthday. Just sort of hanging around and having some lunch. I turned down an invite to go out ot lunch and another to go see ratdog… not in the mood for it. I paid off the landlord for the month (he was supposed to be by yesterday, but never showed up.Tardiness. A peeve.)

Sat out front, and watched the goodyear blimp fly by… heard back from Robyn, but not sure where the website thing is going. She’s a nice woman.

I missed the ice cream man by inches. bah… I wanted a tofutti cup of super-chocolatty chocolate. ’twasn’t meant to be.

My birthday haiku –

time for a good nap?
surf the net, pet the kitty….
procrastination

Take a look at skinema. All about celebrity skin conditions, including moles, wrinkles, and acne scars (doesn’t the name “Edward James Olmos” spring to mind? That guy is one great big pockmark.) Presented by a dermatologist, which only proves that doctors can come up with some pretty funky stuff on the web when they’re not prodding you with strange objects and writing out illegible prescriptions. Oddly compelling.

Well, all this talk of superbowl food is making me hungry, and there’s precious little in my cupboard. A-shopping I shall go.