You Literally Can't Make This Shit Up (Part Three)

I would just like to inform everyone on the planet that today, Pitchfork reviewed a Frank Sinatra box set.

Man, my grandpa was cool, but I didn't know he was into indie rock!

I wonder what he would have thought about that Clipse album that everyone was spraying their shorts about on their end-of-year lists last year.

I do remember that time Sinatra met Sinead O'Connor though:

"Next issue: the bald chick. What's with her hair? How about it, cueball? I'm lookin' at you and thinkin' "fourteen in the side pocket."

And The Lord Said Unto Me “Let There Be HBO On Demand”

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls… the time has come. I’ve been fasting these past months. I have “gone without.”

Without what, you say?

Among other things… Cable. Cable TV.

I was living in the lap of luxury, not three months ago. I had digital cable, high speed internet, a DVR recorder… life was good. Well, that part of life was good. The rest… not so much.

Then I moved. Every other aspect of this move has been for the best. I am happier (alert the press!) and I get to see my friends all the time.

But I don’t get to see Al Swearengen. I don’t get to see Jon Stewart. Cash Cab. Or even my network friends… Meredith, Rosie, Conan, Dave. Heck, I even miss Mr. Rogers.

But all that changes on Monday, February 5, 2007.

I’m installing the Comcast Triple PlayÒ . Landline phone (that’s another thing, my god damn cell phone doesn’t even work in my own apartment), high speed internet (This wireless shit is for the birds. It’s bird shit.) and… digital cable. With HBO (The Wire!), Showtime (Weeds!) and Stars (I don’t know!). Oh my!

Things are going to be different around here.

The State of the Onion

Wow, I bet nobody ever made that joke before! Gimme a break. I'm hung over.

Ahem.

We've all had more than our fill the past days/weeks/months/years/presidential terms of political mysticism. But how about a little political witticism?

David Rees (author of the highly likeable “Get Your War On” cartoons) watched the State of the Union speech the other night and sends it up in high style.

Get your laugh on, America!

Dylan Goes Electric

So yes, I left this blog woefully unattended for some time. I do apologize, my Ledgers. (That’s how I refer to you when I close my eyes and dream a little dream, by the way. Thousands of long lost relatives of Heath Ledger from around the world [Gomen nasai, Japan!]. Oh, and I guess it has something to do with the name of this site too.) This was not done out of spite, negligence or any other fancy college words like that. No, I hit the job circuit again recently and needed to go under the radar for a bit, just until things blew over. You know how it is. Not that I’m engaged in any high crimes or anything around here, but this site doesn’t exactly scream “hire me.” Come to think of it, I don't scream that either.

Life, these past few months, has been nothing short of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. I’ve been miserable at work, I moved to a great town, grew more miserable at work, went to California, went back to work, and then I just landed a new job, joined a book club, a writing class AND bought a laptop. As Ghostface would say, “The game got real.”

But let’s live in the now, brothers and sisters: I’m back. And soon, I’ll have the internets available to me at the homestead, which will make a tremendous difference and I expect my posts will regain their formerly fierce comic alacrity in no time at all. For now, I know I probably sound like a deadbeat dad, but bear (or bare? your choice) with me just a short while longer.

Hope all’s well on your end of the cord. If you want to leave me a note and tell me what you did for the holidays or what you’re going to do for summer vacation, I’d love to hear about it. You’re as special to me as Crystal Pepsi. And I mean that.

For now, I will part ways, but I leave you with my favorite quote from the highly quotable film Big Trouble in Little China, as delivered by the inimitable Kurt Russell in his role as Jack Burton:

“Ok, you people! Sit tight, hold the fort and keep the home fires burning. And if we're not back by dawn... call the president.”

Except, don’t call the president, please. He’s got his hands full at the moment ruining our collective futures.

ZING!

Big Brother Has Got To Be Kidding Me

Comrades,

Thanks for joining this latest installment of the George Orwell Appalling Truth Hour. On this week’s show, we’ve got a real doozy. As a matter of fact, it’s downright disturbing!

Once again, George W. Bush does not cease to amaze. In a feat that truly defies belief, our beloved Decider in Chief has “decidered” to pass legislation that allows him to… wait for it… OPEN PEOPLE’S MAIL without a warrant. Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. As The Daily News puts it, “The President asserted his new authority when he signed a postal reform bill into law on Dec. 20. Bush then issued a "signing statement" that declared his right to open people's mail under emergency conditions.”

Emergency conditions, eh? Wow, what a strange coincidence that we’ve been at a minimum of an “elevated” threat level since September the 11th (as he likes to call it). Isn’t that just the most convenient thing you ever heard, boys and girls? And you thought having your phones tapped was invasive! He was just getting warmed up.



When is this shit going to end? And don’t tell me November 2008, because that’s so depressing I can’t even bear the thought of it. Dear God and Baby Jesus, what is it going to take to get this fascist impeached? He’s the president of the United States, true, but that doesn’t give him the Divine Right of Kings.

“Hey 'Mrrica, here’s what I think of you and yer civil liberties!”




Remember when all this guy was famous for was getting busted for cocaine and executing mentally disabled people? Ah, those were the good old days.

Good Night, and Good Grief...

Every so often, friends, a piece of news comes along that shakes the fine art of journalism to its very core.

This is just such an article. From its headline to the period at the end, this is perfect.

It can honestly be said: Edward R. Murrow, you are no Richard Johnson.

Wow.

2006: My Favorite Albums A.K.A. Listen, Rinse, Repeat

Friends,

As 2006 draws to its inevitable close, I can't help but look back on it and reflect. I think my thoughts on 2006 can best be expressed with the phrase "Smell ya later!" Yes, I'm not opposed to closing the books on this one, truth be told. It was pretty effed for the most part.

Which isn't to say there weren't some massive nights, great road trips, parties, weekend getaways, vacations, new friends and albums along the way. And while I'd love to post about them all, there just isn't enough time or electrons on the internets to do that.

But I'll tell you what, I can tell you about some of my favorite albums. In fact, I already did! My good friend Kutmaster Krist 5000 posted them up on his own site for all the world to enjoy. So please feel free to click HERE and peruse to your heart's content. This collection will not impact your life significantly, but it will kill a good 5 minutes of your time. Imagine how much time I killed writing it! Wowee!

I'm going to try and kill more time in 2007 this way. I'm sure I'll post/pontificate plenty more before the year is over, but this list just went up today and I wanted to let folks know.

Have a happy Wednesday and a merry weekend, children!

xo
*D'Artagnan

PS - Speaking of "massive nights," I must admit to an egregious error on my part. My top 15 of 2006 does not include The Hold Steady's transplendent album "Boys and Girls in America." I'm not sure how I let that one slip, but really, who ever heard of a Top 16 Records of the year list? Or Top 15, for that matter. Hmm. Anyway, it's a good album, I hope you own it soon or already.

You Literally Can't Make This Shit Up (Part Deux)

Wow, another great piece of news today. This one takes the cake. Then it tells you why you shouldn't eat cake.

In his column "The Big Picture," Jim Rutz, a right-wing conservative columnist issued a real pearl of wisdom, entitled "A devil food is turning our kids into homosexuals." Mr. Rutz asserts that soy products, while certainly an occasional source of nutritional benefit, are slowly lightening the loafers of America's youth.

You heard me: soy makes you gay. Well color me chartreuse and hand me a flower for my lapel. I'm glad we've identified the cause after all these years. I suppose it's the soy that allows them to grow those superhuman mustaches...

But I digest. I mean, digress.

The article has multiple pillars of insight, but I found the following paragraph to be the cornerstone in his Tower of Babble.

Soy is feminizing, and commonly leads to a decrease in the size of the penis, sexual confusion and homosexuality. That's why most of the medical (not socio-spiritual) blame for today's rise in homosexuality must fall upon the rise in soy formula and other soy products. (Most babies are bottle-fed during some part of their infancy, and one-fourth of them are getting soy milk!) Homosexuals often argue that their homosexuality is inborn because "I can't remember a time when I wasn't homosexual." No, homosexuality is always deviant. But now many of them can truthfully say that they can't remember a time when excess estrogen wasn't influencing them.

He also claims that feeding a baby with soy milk has the equivalent effect on them of giving them five birth control pills. Which is an interesting claim, albeit a completely insane one.

So there you have it, folks. Those delicious Chik patties you've been scarfing up for the past few years will literally turn your flag-wielding, church-going, no premarital sex-having sons and daughters into a nation of Ru Pauls during fleet week. Vegetarians? More like Future Sodomites of America.

I hope you're all so very proud of yourselves. Does it make you feel more like a real (wo)man to make your kids feel like less of a (wo)man and maybe even eventually possibly want to have sexual relations with a (wo)man of the same sex? Whoah, man.

Although, now that I'm thinking about it, there was always something "fruity" about the name "Tofutti." Wocka, wocka, wocka.

I sure hope the terrorists don't find out about this. They'll have a field day with it.

Bad Parenting in the 21st Century

My god, it has come to this. Blackberries are replacing drinking problems.

You know, I remember the days when a bad parent was just a bad parent, either because of a lack of responsibility, sound parenting skills or just a few too many banana daiquiris after work. But I guess I’m just thinking back to more idyllic times. Nowadays, parents are turning to Blackberries for escape from their brats.

And that’s even scarier.

Worse, some people give them pet names, like "Crackberries" - isn't that just so fucking adorable? No. No, it's not.

I used to have one at my old job. Thankfully, when I left that abysmal place behind, I left that wretched device as well. Which isn’t to say it wasn’t a way to make free long distance phone calls or as a tool for checking my Gmail account while riding on a train, but it really seems as though some people actually love the little pieces of crap. To the point of ignoring their own children. Amazing.

This story is more disturbing than Michael “KKKramer” Richard’s comedy routine. I mean, when I have kids, I hope (nay, expect!) there will be better reasons to ignore them than a stupid handheld device.

Here’s holding out hope for the future, right?

Speaking of the future, when the hell are they going to get around to making hoverboards and flying cars, by the way???

xo
*D’Artagnan

"Mission Accomplished"

Someone sent this to me today. I thought it was an interesting perspective on the sinkhole that has become the Iraq war, as well as our foreign policy.

Happy Monday!
*D'Artagnan


University of Michigan history professor Juan Cole has provided a unique perspective on the war in Iraq.

Imagine that China has invaded America.

Reflecting the larger U.S. population, Cole imagines that 3,300 Americans are dying in car bombings, rocket attacks, and aerial bombardments, per week.

Meanwhile, most reporters are trapped in Washington, DC hotels, dependent on Chinese troops to protect them.

Nearly 300,000 rebels, armed with machine guns, assault rifles, rocket-propelled grenades, and mortar launchers, control Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Salt Lake City, Las Vegas, Denver and Omaha.

In the past year, the Secretary of State, the President, the Attorney General, and various Governors have been assassinated.

There is almost no commercial air traffic, and many roads are dangerous. To travel on I-95, for example, you risk being carjacked, kidnapped, or killed.

Electricity goes off throughout the day, if you are lucky enough to have it.

Meanwhile, the unemployment rate is 40%.

Despite all this, Chinese leaders assure you that you are better off now, and that they are bringing democracy and freedom to your country.

www.juancole.com

A Very Bebop Christmas

I know it's only December 7, but I know I could sure as hell use a kick in the ass to get myself in the holiday spirit.

And so I present to you: Bebop, the holiday pup. He's a dog. He's my friend. He's my friend's dog. And he's here to help. Although he lives in Jersey City, he'll be making the rounds this season making sure everyone has as much ice cold Budweiser as they can drink. He's also pretty handy with a tennis ball. In fact, it's a little-known secret, but he's one of the main reasons why Jersey City is so cool.


If this picture doesn't put you in the spirit immediately, consult your physician. You have some problems my friend, and your heart just might be a lump of black coal. I mean, look at that little guy. All he wants is for everyone to enjoy the cool refreshing taste of the King of Beers.

On behalf of everyone here at the Ledge, have a wonderful holiday. And this season, please remember to keep the "Bebop" in Christmas. I know I will.

I'll also be keeping the Budweiser in my tummy.

I Knew I Should Never Have Clicked On That "Myspace Jobs" Advertisement

"The price one pays for pursuing any profession or calling is an intimate knowledge of its ugly side."
- James Baldwin

Just today, I was thinking to myself, “Hey Self, it’s been a rather crappy week, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, Self, it certainly has. And it’s only Tuesday.”

“That’s true, Self. But last week kind of blurred into this one, did it not?”

“Yes, it most certainly did. And did I mention it’s only Tuesday?”

“Yes, I’m afraid you did, you handsome bastard.”

“Oh, Self… What are we going to do with ourSelves?”

Can you tell that I’m tired and losing my mind?














Without further crappola... the past week or so, in emails counts (Let me specify - WORK emails. Personal emails are a different and far more enjoyable species altogether.):

Monday – 121
Tuesday – 119
Wednesday – 183
Thursday – 148
Friday – 151
Saturday – 14*
Sunday – 10*
Monday – 204
Tuesday – 224

(* Yes, small numbers, I know, but they were on the weekend, so I’m counting them as ten weekday emails for every one weekend email. Totaling 140 and 100, respectively.)

As you can see, things are getting progressively worse. The bad days are the ones when I have to do other work, other than just answering all these damn emails. Which is... every day.

I’m wondering how this stacks up with other people out there. Am I crazy or is that a lot of mail to go through? Or am I just peeing my pants over nothing? (It’s been known to happen.)

Today is Tuesday. I posit that it is no coincidence the subject of the email I received today from Netflix said “For Wednesday: Repulsion.” So what if it was talking about this kind of Repulsion and not this kind.

Semantics.

If You Can Read This, You’re Too Cool

Wowee, boys and girls. So far, life back on the Jersey side of things has been a real cool time. I’m saving a bundle on rent and expenses, I see my peoples on a regular basis (that is, when I’m not working till 10:30 PM), I’ve enjoyed some fine art and some fine rock n’ roll (see previous post). All I need now is to find me a Jersey girl, take that little brat of hers and drop her off at her mom's and… oh, you know the rest of the words.

What I’m trying to say is: so far, so good.

And life was further validated for me this morning when I stumbled upon the following article in New York Magazine, which cites Jersey City as the official rebirth of the cool. That’s right, you heard me: it’s not just for Jay Z and Carlos D (What’s with the one letter last names? Coincidence? I think not.) anymore. Jersey City, like Wu Tang, is for the children. The cool children.

As I look around the streets of Manhattan and see million dollar apartments in neighborhoods that were once punk rock mecca, one bedroom apartments renting for thousands of dollars and an increasingly horrifying population of HUM-V driving uber-guidos and Paris Hilton STD hair weave factories, I really feel like I moved just in time.

Don’t believe me? You better axe somebody. Click HERE to read all about it.

Sincerely,
Arthur Fonzarelli

My new neighborhood, as seen from my old neighborhood:

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chuck Out My Melody

Hello friend,

Say, do you like beers? And if someone were to ask you how you feel about stoner rock, what would you say? How about dudes named Chuck?

Well, if you like all three of those things, have I got a deal for you!

This weekend, I’d like to welcome you to Chuckapalooza, which is a name I just made up for a couple of events taking place in the pastoral village of Jersey City, NJ. The first part of Chuckapalooza is a silent auction art show, featuring some of my favorite bromigos: BJ Ervick, Brett S. Wilson, James O’Keeffe and – you guessed it – Chuck Daly.

These are some mighty creative dudes and they’ll all be showing some work at the Residue Art Gallery. There’s gonna be all these awesome things there like beer – I really think you’d like it. Details below. Look for the picture with the sleepy kitten.

Here he is!













Day two of Chucktoberfest (I just changed the name again, did you notice?) is a bit more rockin’, because you know what? We’re living in the free world. This is a show at a place called the Iron Monkey. It’s got more of that beer stuff going on, plus live stoner rock from the glorious notorious Thunder Lizard, featuring bass guitar stylings from – you guessed it – Chuck Daly. Another band called Old Ghost is playing and, last but not least, there will be some DJ sessions from my friends Jamil and Brett, aka DJ Shazam! and DJ Cupcakes. I don’t know what they’re going to play exactly, but I’d imagine it will probably not be from the last two decades. And it might occasionally be Japanese. But it’s cool, dude, you’ll like it.

You should go to that too. It starts at 9:30ish. Here’s the address for Iron Monkey and another flyer image follows below (look for the giant banana):

Iron Monkey
No. 97, Greene Street
Jersey City, NJ 07302



















Maybe I’ll see you there? Unless you don’t go. Which would be a bummer. There’s this dude Chuck that’s gonna be there. You probably heard about him.

Sleepy kittens,
*D’Artagnan

Sometimes, My Arms Bend Back

Okay.

Seriously, I keep listening to that theme song over and over again. It's really relaxing. But I'm also afraid I'm going to lose my mind.

If it's not already lost.

Up next in the Netflix: Season one discs 3 & 4, as well as "Fire Walk With Me."

I think I might have a problem. But I don't want to fix it.







The little man told me my favorite gum was coming back into style,
*D'Artagnan

No Gnus Is Good Gnus

Or something like that.

Hey kids. Sorry, no updates for a while, I know. Still no internets and work has been 10 - 13 hour days lately (fun!). We did get a plasma screen TV though, which is certainly worth noting. Next we get HD cable for it and then comes the internets. When that happens, watch your ass, blogosphere. Wow, I really hate that fucking word.

So much I'd love to write about too - people I've seen, turkeys I've eaten, shows I've been to, movies I've watched, etc. - but it will have to wait. Hopefully around December 8 or so, I'll be able to start acting like a normal person again. Till then... snowball's chance in hell.

If you're feeling down or depressed, watch a Twin Peaks episode on DVD with your new plasma screen TV. That's really been working for me lately. I've been listening to the theme song on repeat for the last hour and it really relaxes me. You can listen to it HERE.























I leave you with this quote, from Arthur Schopenhauer:

"If we were not all so interested in ourselves, life would be so
uninteresting that none of us would be able to endure it. "

Yeah, that's the kind of stuff I like to put on this site.

xo
D'Artagnan

Best Election Ever, Man!

Wow. Wowee-wow-wow. Color me surprised. Scratch that. Color me red, white and blue!!!

What a fantastic selection of news to choose from today!

Democrats reclaim the House.

Democrats probably reclaim the Senate.

And Rummy is AUDI 5,000.

Stem cells, gay marriage and abortion - oh my!

Man, X-mas came early this year!

It's a truly depressing thought (lemme just squeeze one in here), but this is probably the best news day I've seen in 6 years, since Captain Craptastic first stole the presidency.

Oh, the relief. Now only 2 more years of this ass clown and we can get a real president in the office. And I don't even mean that sarcastically. I have this strange feeling inside of me that I have not felt in a long time. I think it's.... hope! We can do it people - we can do it!

America,
D'Artagnan

A Ledge of One's Own

Oh my brothers and only friends,

Bear with me for a short time. I have recently relocated my ledge and the current abode does not yet have the internets on it. (I didn't even know there were still places like that left in the world.)

So for the time being, I'm only going to be able to post stuff while I'm at work and that's tough to pull off.

But know that I am thinking of you often and missing you very much.

Hell, I need you. I'm a mess without you. I miss you so damn much. I miss being with you, I miss being near you. I miss your laugh. I miss your scent; I miss your musk. In fact, when this all gets sorted out, I think you and me should get an apartment together. Even though I just got a new one this week.

Okay, thanks for stopping by. I'll be back soon enough hopefully and maybe I'll even have some new content that I didn't swipe from Champ Kind.

Whammy,
D'Artagnan

This Ledge Has Flown

By this time tomorrow, I will once again be a citizen of the great Garden State, New Jersey.

This will have little to no effect on your life, but I wanted to share.

I think it will be the first step in a series of changes I want to make in my life. There's so much I want to do, so much I need to do, but much of it is not in my hands, or is too long-term to make a difference just yet.

So, I have to change the things I can. And I am.

In honor of this monumentous move, this homecoming of sorts, I'd like to offer up the following link to one of my favorite Springsteen songs, which is actually a Pete Seeger song. But who's keeping score?

It's called "Bring Em Home" and it's really an old Vietnam protest song, which the Boss revamped for a more modern day war cry.

At any rate, although it's referring to the soldiers fighting valiently abroad to defend my right to dick around on an internet site all day, I can't help feeling a little inspired by it from a personal perspective too.

At any rate: ENJOY the song.

Endorsement: The Five Dollar Day

I have a friend named Luke. Luke Something-or-other - I can't really remember. Actually, he asked me to remove his name to protect his secret identity. In addition to being a crimefighting caped crusader, he's a talented fella when it comes to music.

A few years back - actually, more like almost ten years back - Luke was really keen to start a band. He and I were just getting into "teaching ourselves" to play guitar around that time. I was way too self-concious about my playing, but Luke picked it up in no time - he's a real natural. Conversely, he wasn't too assured of his lyrical prowess back then, but I (perhaps naively) felt much better equipped for that end of the bargain.

He was looking for band names for a long time and petitioned lots of friends to give him ideas. Eventually I came up with one that tickled his history buff fancy, I guess: The Five Dollar Day. Here's a little history lesson on what that is, if you've never heard of it. Well, the name stuck. Ten years later and he still goes by that handle. And it's an entirely solo endeavor at this point - Luke not only took to the guitar, but he now plays all the drums, keyboards, spoons, tape recorders, woodwinds, and whatever else goes into his songs. He's John Brion meets Eric Bachmann. Recorded in an attic. In my book, that's a good way to be.

Back to the music for a second. Around 1998 or so, I sent him a string of words, lyrics, poems and such that would probalby mortify me to hear them today. But at the time, we thought it was the cat's pajamas, so to speak. I couldn't write a song to save my life, but I was happy to supply the words for old Mr. Luke.

Well, I eventually forgot all about those words and then one day, he gave me a cd and one of the songs on it sounded very familiar... because I'd written the lyrics! The song is called "Connect the Continents" and believe it or not, it still actually means something to me. Click the link to view the lyrics. And please, be kind if you have feedback. I was younger then, with more hair and full of big ideas about the world.

At any rate, I'd recommend checking out Luke aka the Five Dollar Day. He's a gifted son-of-a-gun. If you click HERE, you can download his first album Shine Like Justice for free. It includes "Connect the Continents" on it. I'm also quite a fan of "His Obituary." When I heard that song, I realized Luke didn't need any more of my damn lyrics, he was just fine writing his own.

If you click HERE, you can visit his highly designed web site.

And his Myspace page. If you go there, tell him I said hello. I think he's in the middle of a song-by-song battle with his friend. Each of them challenges one another with a Phil Collins song. they did a fantastic Rod Stewart duel recently too. I promise you, I'm not kidding. See for yourself!