Discontent and Daisies

A Return to the Fray

2009-06-16T11:04:00.003-05:00

Perhaps by the urging of a one Hogs I'm going to attempt to post my thoughts, hopes, dreams, and other minor observations much more often.

Since the last time I graced this page, I have moved from my beloved Emerald City of Oz, San Francisco, to a slightly-less aesthetically-minded destination, Fort Lauderdale. I will attempt to keep my snobbish observations of the latter to myself. For now. In the interim, I have befriended a famous and prolific poet, maintained a friendship and professional relationship with a famous and prolific philosopher and novelist, made a cameo on a television production with a famous and prolific celebrity chef, annoyed the crap out of another famous and prolific celebrity chef, drove across the country all by myself, and have read a bunch.

I've decided to go back to school. So hopefully, this will be the place where I will hone my "personal statement" and entry papers on such things as the philosophy of sexuality and emotions, ruminations about obscure literature and film, and, probably the most important to me at the moment: the aesthetic of wine and food. I'm asking for your help here people, once I post stuff, tell me if I'm full of shit or not...mkay?

Maybe I'll pull out my camera again, but I haven't found much to capture recently. Everything is so shiny and new here. And covered with Ed Hardy. Bedazzled Ed Hardy.

Bacon help me...

Thus spake Megathustra

WTF?

2008-11-27T14:24:00.001-06:00

Thus spake Megathustra

Don't Worry, The Door Of Which I Speak Isn't The One To The World.

2008-10-27T13:31:00.004-05:00

So the inevitable happened. I chose to stay at home and read and finish settling in today. I walked outside to check the mail. I heard my apartment door close behind me with a sickening "I-left-my-keys-inside" click. The roommate is at work. The land lady isn't at home. I had just locked the patio door, so even if I could scale one of the back fences from a neighbor's apartment, I couldn't get in. Shit.

Oh and I looked like this: see above bangs, green knit booties, sparkly pajama pants, and an old ill-fitting sweater. No id, no money, not even a credit card with which to pick the lock. Shit.

Last night, I just finished Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. Kavalier, among other things, is an escape artist who can get out of, or into, anywhere. It is election season, and many propositions on the ballot here in San Francisco. There are many fliers on card stock littering the front steps. Hmm, what would Joe Kavalier do? Yeah, I just broke into my apartment with a flier for some school board nominee from the Mission. I never thought politics would do me so well...

The sun just broke through my first fog-addled morning. I think it will be a good day.

Love,

Thus spake Megathustra

Tom Waits Wrote the Soundtrack to My Life: A Compilation

2008-10-18T12:30:00.003-05:00

Time again for another compilation! This time I have ventured deep into the vast dregs of my Tom Waits collection to put together a list of songs that have defined my life, then, now and later.

Here it goes:

What Keeps Mankind Alive (Bastards)

Tango Til They're Sore (Rain Dogs)

Make it Rain (Real Gone)

Cold Water (Mule Variations)

God's Away on Business (Blood Money)

Altar Boy (Bastards)

9th and Hennepin (Rain Dogs)

It's Over (Bawlers)

Dead and Lovely (Real Gone)

If I Have to Go (Bawlers)

Home I'll Never Be (Bastards)

Ol' 55 (Closing Time)

Walk Away (Brawlers)

Lucky Day (The Black Rider)

Anywhere I Lay My Head (Rain Dogs)

Children's Story (Bastards)

Thus spake Megathustra

Moments with Buñuel

2008-09-28T13:03:00.003-05:00

Somedays I really expect to turn around and see Luis Buñuel with a handheld camera in one hand, martini in the other saying: "You are on my candid camera, beetch."

Let me explain.

Saturday:

5 am Wake up, begin preparing, alone, for my yard sale later that day

7 am Buy coffee from You Say Tomato, begin bringing all of my Gently Used Crap downstairs. Back begins to hurt

8 am Nice gentleman from the first floor apartment, who is still up from his antics from the night before, brings the rest of my Gently Used Crap downstairs. I trade him his services for a coffee table. Two young women leave his apartment shortly thereafter. You go, guy.

9 am - 1 pm Sold a bunch of my Gently Used Crap to philosophers, Cubans, and bussers. During this time, I also saw three men cut down a tree in the least logical manner possible. Good times.

1.15 pm Start taking all of my Gently Used Crap upstairs. Doug the landlord helps. Nice man

1.30 pm Dana comes over to take me to the airport. I need to pack.

2.00 pm Grab an iced tea while dropping off my vacuum to Room 39. Joel hates me.

4.00 pm Leave, and as I am boarding my plane I realize I left my hoodie at home. Good thing I forgot my razor, too. At least my legs will be warm.

4-5 (denver time) Lay over in Denver for 25 minutes. I race down to Mesa Verde for a Blue Moon, an iced tea, some chips and salsa, and two cigarettes. And the Frontier boarding guy said it couldn't be done!

5.30-7.45 (CA time) Had the greatest conversation with Philomina and Keith in our first row seats. For the entire two hours!!! Great nice people originally from Minnesota, ya nooo? Ben from Oakland approves of my Chabon selection. Goodbye hugs from the flight attendants - see you at Charlies!

8.00-8.30 BART ride. Had a great existential movie moment with a stranger in the opposite train.

9.00 Find the Mosser just as my phone battery dies.

9.00-9.30 Shower away the airplane stink

9.30 Annabelle Bistro-the hotel's bar and restaurant. Befriend Rob, who pours a GREAT Syrah. (Seriously this wine is made by Silver Oak, and it is the perfect High School Reunion wine, you know, not as vindictive as an Italian, or as mutedly snobby as a French, or as robust and welcoming as a Spanish, but just a good nose-punching pepper for when you want to feel just the slightest bit of pretention).

10.00 meet Crystal and Steve. I now have a waiting job (they introduced me to their manager at the hotel across the street).

11.00 Bed time for Megan

Thus spake Megathustra

[SIC]

2008-09-21T23:48:00.004-05:00

When this person first emailed me in my response to a Room Wanted ad on Craigslist, she wrote in at least decent grammar. Even if this WASN'T a scam, I have major reservations about sharing my space with someone with minimal respect to basic grammar. If anyone can decipher the last sentence of this missive, I will give you a really big hug. (I'm moving to San Francisco, this is all I can afford).

Hello Roommate,

Enclosed in this mail, you will find the tenancy agreement duly
prepared by my Attorney with a copy of my international passport .I
want you to go through it carefully and then you'll get to study the
terms and condition of living in my spare flat. If everything is okay
for you, get back asap because we'll need to move on with the second
phase of the documentation and also how my attorney can confirm your
reservation.

If you agree with the terms and condition you have to sign the
contract and send it back to me so that i can sign as well and for me
to have it in my record as regards you living in my spare flat ..I
have attached a copy of my international passport to you so that you
can know your fellow flatmate whenever you are coming to your
apartment.

I really have lots of offer who are interested in my flat i but i turn
down their offer all because of you also which you are aware about it,
why am renting out the apartment is because the apartment is too big
for me not the money but i cant just allow the carzy bills to run like
that I will like you to proceed with me on the second phase so that my
Attorney can confirm your reservation and for the flat to be reserve
in your favor upon your arrival date. I really don't have much say
about the you making the reservation but i have entrust everything to
my Attorney and she made me to understand that she need to confirm,
your reservation for her to be positive sure about you so that the
flat can be reserve in your favor upon your arrival date .

Which mean i need to hear from you soon so that i can explain to my
Attorney also for her to give me a suitable response that will be in
your favor on how she will prefer you making the reservation.

I will like to come and pick you up my self at the airport if you
dont mind just send me your necessry flight arrangement detils so that
i can be there at the excat time and date..

Megan what will buy for me when you are coming to your apartment mean
as a gift ?

Here is my direct # 1-xxx-xxx-xxxx

Thank you and Remain Blessed..

Cheers,

(redacted).

Thus spake Megathustra

Observing the Observer

2008-09-10T11:19:00.003-05:00

After all of the trials and tribulations of The Great Existential Wild Western Roadshow...Now With Politics! 2008, after all of the countless (or, 3000) pictures taken, hours of video shot, in the midst of editing all of these things plus my moleskine-full of sentences into something one could consider to be a journalistic endeavor into the abyss of my still-adolescent mind; after years of philosophical inquiry, two days driving through a desert, 6 hours in Vegas, a week of the DNC, a week on various beaches, recreations of senior-style pictures...this is the shot I think encapsulates the entire trip.

Upon returning to the metropolis known to most as Kansas City, I realize that I really should be closer to an ocean, with my camera, Eugene (the skinny, white, hairless monster whom I love), coffee, and a well-painted green backdrop. Now if I only hadn't lost my hairdryer during those debaucherous 6 hours in Vegas, I could possibly lose the towel...but my new '47-style bangs require a bit more attention...

Please stay tuned for the more existential last legs of what will henceforth be known as The Greatest Vacation EVER 2008.

Thus spake Megathustra

I've decided I have watered down versions of my parents' talents.

2008-09-05T12:35:00.003-05:00

My momma takes pictures. Recently she found a sunflower field, and here is one of my favorite images from her set.

I like the way my parents see the world. My dad thinks this flower looks like Donald Duck.

Thus spake Megathustra

A Taste of What's to Come...

2008-09-05T11:52:00.001-05:00

I Have The Devil In Me

A Weakness of the Flesh

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Mountain Goats and Near Death Experiences

2008-09-02T20:38:00.006-05:00

Tony and I decided to take a break from all the drama of the Convention and take a nice jaunt up to Mount Evans, the highest elevated road (drivable by normal people) in all the land. We missed the turn, but we ended up here for a bit:

Not bad, eh?

We got situated with the directions and finally found the $3 entrance to Mount Evans Road. Please note the nearly 20 degree F difference in temperature at the base and the top.

High above tree line, a lone alien awaits. (Or a motorcyclist watching mountain goats.)

Like this one!

Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore.

Again, the layering of my shots! If I weren't so humble I'd call myself a genius.

Hold on, it gets worse from here.

You know how there are disclaimers on everything these days? Well there is one here too. Normally I disregard such things, but I should have taken this seriously.

"Dude, we're at 14,130 feet."

"I know"

"It hurts to breathe"

Good thing there are props for this mountain. I was worried.

You can't frame this shit.

Remember that altitude sickness disclaimer? Yeah, it's about now when I am kicking myself for not heeding more attention to it. It's also about now when the ranger dude comes up and asks R-"You got altitude sickness?"

M-"Yeah. I'm prone to vertigo, so it is one or the other. Can I die from this?"

R-"Yeah, your brain is swelling right now."

M-"To match my ego?"

R-"You should go down the mountain now"

M-"Will you take a picture of my friend and I first?"

R- "Sure."

Let it be known that as much as I love Tony G., I am not just hugging him because he is my friend. He was my main vertical support system at this particular moment.

We head down the mountain and back to civilization, just in time to head to Hamburger Mary's for burgers, beer, and Obama's speech. Holy crap, if I wasn't hopeful before, let it be known that I am hopeful as all get out now. We need that man in office, he gets it. (Save his opinions on nuclear energy, offshore drilling, etc. of course.

I stepped outside for a smoke:

And thus ends our journey in Denver. Tony headed east early Friday morning, while I spent the day recharging on my sister's couch. Around 7.00 pm (mst) I went to a dear old friend (Jered)'s house for some Mediterranean food and homemade wine. He and his wife Agata spawned the cutest kid in the world, Matthew. This was the first time year and a half old Matthew and I met, and the little bugger stole my heart! Since they did so well the first time, Jered and Ag are at it again, and are expecting sometime in March. Congratulations!!!

Jessie and Jim have arrived in Denver at this point. Jessie joins the latter party for some wine and conversation, while Jim heads off to meet some other friends. Jessie and I then meet up with Jim and friends for a few beers, and then we head back to Sarah's for one last night before The Existential Wild Western Road Show...Now With Politics! 2008 begins its second leg.

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Wednesday

2008-09-02T19:00:00.005-05:00

That little blob below the cameraman's lanyard is J.Lo.

Off the beaten path of the 16th Street Mall at 8th and Speer lies Sunken Garden Park, home to the Healthcare for All Rally. A benefit for healthcare workers and others to find information on single-payer or universal healthcare. Please vote for Obama in November, regardless of the social issues one may or may not agree with, this is one that hits home, despite any partisan notions. I really don't enjoy paying nearly $200 each time a UTI visits...it's a chronic problem. TMI, I know, but it is getting really annoying, expensive, and no where near the annoyance and expense of other problems that plague the 48,999,999 other people living in this country without affordable insurance.

DeVotchka warming up.

They were doing free massages, acupuncture, acupressure and reflexology under a tent, away from the oppressive sun and traditional Western medicine. Tony and I opted to try acupuncture because the line was the shortest. These needles in my foot almost instantly relieved my aching back (another chronic problem, about which you all have heard me bitch).

These needles in our ears gave us a little energy pick me up. After walking miles and miles in revolutionary and educated shoes, we were quite tired.

Then the music started, and picked us up even more!

CHUCK D of PUBLIC ENEMY!!! Yeah, he sang "Son of a Bush" it was great!

Jim Hightower cracks me up.

So did this guy, he was bopping around under his umbrella. Me, having forgot my SPF50, wanted to join him, but I decided to stay under my little makeshift hut of placards.

Some guy from Death Cab for Cutie. This was a great set, but I just don't know their music well.

Although my talents lie elsewhere, deep down inside I've always wanted to be a rockstar.

And now, DeVotchka's acoustic set. God they are beautiful.

I like this shot. Its a rock star shot.

God he's beautiful.

After the show, Tony and I met Sarah and Nick (her greatest Boyfriend EVER) at Benny's for some damn good Mexican food and beer. However, all of our previous plans were thwarted when we saw:

Aw.

We then headed back to the homestead to play Scattegories. But we all had to check our email first:

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Sustainable Living Roadshow

2008-09-02T18:26:00.006-05:00

Tuesday in Denver began with a huge bout of sleeping in. (We had been through a lot during our first day as journalists, you know?) When the morning, er, mid-morning sun became too much for my sleepiness to handle, I arose to the sounds of a busy downtown Denver, a percolating coffee pot and a few birds.

Apparently, I looked like this:

Aren't you jealous of the person who gets to wake up next to me? Rowr.

After a few rounds of scrubbing and intricate tricks with my hair dryer to lay my bangs just so, Tony and I headed back towards Civic Center Park to see what trouble we could observe.

In the meantime, I remembered exactly how much I dislike Ayn Rand:

And exactly how much I love local record stores and the Ramones:

Civic Center Park was much calmer today, apparently it was "green day" so there were a bunch of stoners milling about. There was also a parade confined to the park grounds of some beautiful floaty characters all aimed at world peace and non-discrimination (video of which will be here soon). I certainly met some interesting, albeit non-papier-mâchéd, characters as well.

These guys were nice. The guy on the right really wasn't so mean looking. He was hamming for the camera.

This is the Best. Mullet. Ever.

Tony and I then hopped over to the 16th Street Mall, where, being on the anniversary of women getting the right to vote, it was apparently Dead Baby Day. (Yes, I know that was crass, but seeing so many pictures of aborted fetuses has really numbed my ability to be anything but). All sorts of women and the like were milling about.

Amy Goodman was speaking at the downtown Sheraton, amidst the throngs of dissenters and yay-sayers. The Code Pink Ladies were there to keep the peace.

Right on, sister.

As elipses!!!

A Note: I deleted all of the dead baby pictures. Words are words and can carry a punch, but the pictures are just flat out disgusting.

Moving on....

To all of those people who are afraid that Obama is too "socialist." I think this convention is about as capitalistic as they come...until next week, that is. Heh.

Taking a break from the madness.

We reached the top!

How big was that vadge, Tony?

We hit this bridge as we were headed to the Sustainable Living Roadshow. Again, I have video of this, so the still pics end here...

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Big Monday Night Riot

2008-09-02T17:54:00.004-05:00

I had my video camera on for most of this experience, so the still shots are rather few for this post. We saw many officers headed towards the downtown Sheraton, so what do we do? We follow!

We get as close as we can to the scene.

The officers began putting on their gas masks.

They line up and shout "Move Back! Move Back!" while gesturing back with their billy clubs. They move us back. We cough as our eyes begin to water (the tear gas, you know?)

We finally are pushed back onto the 16th Street Mall as word comes to us observers that some anarchists had planned a big riot (figure out what is wrong with that last passage) as the police thwarted them with tear gas and billy clubs.

Boy, what a day! And the Convention has only just begun! I contemplate the luck I have in my opportunity to experience such things and mark the occasion with my second existential picture of the trip:

We then eat some pizza for $3 a Brooklyn slice and head home to watch Michelle Obama's speech.

See you tomorrow!

Thus spake Megathustra

Coming soon to a riot near you...

2008-09-02T14:21:00.002-05:00

Thus spake Megathustra

A Brief Interlude: Melange of DNC Goers

2008-09-02T14:14:00.008-05:00

Here are a few shots around town:

Heh.

For Jessica: we missed the show, but we did inquire about ticket prices...

Heh.

I like this guy. I want him to tell me stories. Guys with hats always have the best stories.

Calm in the midst of chaos...

Ooh! Me too! (kinda)

I really don't think right-leaning voters are slow (necessarily), but this guy was so proud of his slogan and his dog, I couldn't resist taking a picture.

Yeah, ladies, I'm thinking "What the Fuck" too.

This is Fran. Fran and I have the same goal: to be in the background of as many strangers' pictures as we possibly can. Even though he isn't in the background of this picture, I'm sure glad I could help Fran out with one of his goals.

I forget this guy's name, but he was super cute and he worked in a specialty food store that had some fantastic-looking olive oil.

The light in Denver is gorgeous.

These are some brownies that the Guy-whose-name-I-forgot made. I wanted to snarf them, but I was full, so I refrained.

I was full because of Jax Fish Shop.

Heh. I like how the vadge totally overpowers the phallic image in this picture.

Yeah, the vadge was this big! (Curb Your Enthusiasm)

I love how the police state this guy is purporting to point out has no police in it. (Although I do realize he means the 12-15 police officers on each corner, the snipers on every building, and the scary legislation that relies solely on a police officer's discretion as to who may be deemed a threat to public safety)

But no matter, I'm bipartisan!

The MSNBC broadcast booth.

Yeah, he's just as douchey in person as he is on TV.

Keith Olberman!

Just wait until I clear enough space on Eugene's harddrive so I can have enough memory to edit my videos together to show you exactly how much the people of Denver and her visitors REALLY like burritos.

Yeah, me too.

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Homophobes and One Police Officer in Particular are Douchebags

2008-09-02T12:56:00.009-05:00

After leaving the disappointing peace-ish rally at the Federal Courthouse Building, Tony and I thought that things could only get better. Little did we know we were about to come across those of Phelpsian ilk.

Note: The pictures of the demonstrators are not to provide them with free advertisement for their bullshit line of thought, but rather they are to show the utter stupidity of their signs and bullshit line of thought.

Homo-sex is a threat to national security? Seriously? What a douche. (UPDATE: After much thought and discussion with Jessie and Jim, I have been wondering what exactly kind of sex would be a threat to national security. Sex with a Russian spy? A communist? Anything other than missionary? AND honestly, if any sex could be a threat to national security, then I would imagine it would be pretty awesome sex, so count me in!)

A few moments later, the hippie punk cool kids arrived and began yelling louder than the megaphones.

I loved this shirtless guy (of whom you can only see his shoulder in this picture). I love conviction (and shirtlessness) in a man.

This is a drum of LOVE!!! (wait for the video, this guy was GREAT!)

Can you see why this (Arise Together) is my favorite sign?

The police silently arrive.

Yeah, about 75 uniforms showed up almost immediately. From where? From every freaking street corner in Denver. THEY WERE EVERYWHERE. Watching. Just watching. Until...

"You should never wear your best trousers when you go out to fight for freedom and truth" Ibsen.

Underwear guy gets tackled, after not provoking any violence, by a police officer shortly after the above picture was taken.

Keep your eye on the red-head dreads.

I have no idea where the underwear guy went.

But if you think about it in objective terms, I can see why the police, if they were to tackle anyone in this demonstration, they would tackle a guy with his pants down, and subsequently arrest his bean-pole hippie friend. Because seriously, there is nothing scarier than a homophobic misogynist with a beer gut and an NRA card. Not that it is right what happened (I'm still chilled and teary about the whole scene), but in terms of practicality, the homophobes out weighed (literally) everybody.

I just don't understand, however, the view point of these people. Honestly, straight people do some pretty freaky (and more "freakier" in terms than gay sex because gay sex isn't "freaky") shit behind closed doors, and, well in front of open ones too. (Not necessarily from my own experience, of course - I choose not to remember that month of my early 20's).

If this is a sex thing, then don't think about it. I don't like to think of what my friends (gay or straight) do with their "special times of love." That is their thing, if I wanted to know, I would ask to join in, but then that would create weirdness and crossing lines, and honestly, I don't really want to see any (well, save a few, of course...I have some pretty pretty friends...) of my friends naked. But that's my thing.

If it is a god thing, then stay the fuck out of my spiritual experience, please.

If it is a political thing, then that makes no sense

If it is anything, just shut up. Jesus was gay. You are gay. I am gay. We all are gay gay gay gay gay gay.

Honestly, I have never felt closer to Tony than I did just after this thing. We embraced and kept moving on. Because really, that's all you can do.

Good thing we did, because a block later, we came across the Human Rights Campaign booth, where we purchased tickets to the concert Tuesday night (Thelma Houston - an exact physical representation of my inner drag queen, Rufus Wainwright, Margaret Cho, Jared Polis, Hillary Clinton's speech!, Melissa Etheridge (holy shit can she rock out), and OMFG CYNDI LAUPER!!! That's right, homophobes, we have Cyndi Lauper on our side! Who do you have? Bush, Cheney, McCain, Palin, and Phelps? We win.

Thus spake Megathustra

A Brief Arty Interlude

2008-09-02T12:42:00.005-05:00

Sculptures in front of the Denver Art Museum.

TMI alert: At first, when this picture was taken on the 25th of August it looked like the letter "D". Now after my travels, it looks more like my post-Jack-In-The-Box experience. But the latter smelled better. (Thanks to the kids at Camp Bacon and one particular co-worker's child from the Restaurant for shifting my otherwise intellectual perception to a more fecal one).

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Prisoners' Rights March

2008-09-02T10:49:00.011-05:00

Monday (August 25th) was the official "Free Speech Day" (of sorts). Apparently the City of Denver had only approved of a certain amount of demonstrations and protests and appointed Monday as their official day of voicing dissenting and otherwise opinions (which, I'm sure, makes sense from the planner's point of view because the Convention wasn't to begin officially until that evening with Michelle Obama's speech). However, the People thought differently.

Tony, Sarah and I woke up, drank the coffee that Nick (Sarah's best boyfriend EVER) had made, packed our day bags and headed out to Civic Center Park - just a brief 15 minute walk from her front door. What was brewing, you may ask? Well, a conglomeration of Prisoners' Rights Advocates, we all were to march (or, rather, walk along the sidewalks in a very controlled fashion) the 6 blocks or so to the Federal Courthouse Building. The Planners had attempted to encounter all sorts of opinions here...Mumia, Peltier, Gitmo, Anarchists, Anti-Government Yellers, the Code Pink Ladies, the Cuban 5, among others. While many of these groups have similar outlooks on the way things should be, we will soon see that when you mix all of these lefties into one big pot, things just turn out like any attempt I've ever made at making soup. In other words, one big hot mess of mushy vegetables.

Here is the procession:

The Cuban 5 are 5 men who were convicted in the U.S. courts for espionage 10 years ago. However, they actually were monitoring Miami-based terrorist groups in order to prevent acts of terrorism in their home country of Cuba. You can read more, and become involved should you so desire, here.

This young lady had the loudest voice.

A common sight here in Denver were these advocates for the Guantanamo Bay Prisoners. I give them points (not in a condescending way, of course) for their conviction. All week they wore these jumpsuits and black bags over their faces while walking with their hands behind their back. Personally, I prefer a bit of diversity in both dress and cause. Never once did I see any of these demonstrators involved in any act of (non-staged-see below) violence. However, after seeing about 50 of these people marching beside me, I became a bit bleh to their message. When one's sincerity becomes a spectacle, does it lose its initial credibility?

Let's pause for Eagle Scouts. Because, you know, rowr.

More journalism.

I feel your passion, brother. Keep fighting the good fight, they may hear you today, but someday they will listen.

Shhh...they're behind you. Actually, the police during this march were quite cordial. Upon leaving the park, a group of these Mounties cut off our procession amidst shouts of "Pigs!" "Fascists!" etc...However, the first horsie cop had mentioned in passing, "We are going to hold traffic for you guys." I thought that was nice.

Yeah, he's so cute he makes me look twice too.

Free speech for all!!! By this point, everyone in the procession chanted the same chants. "Free. Mumia. Abu. Jamal!" "Freedom! Not Fear!" etc... It was a moment of solidarity I could really get behind, even if I didn't agree with each faction's message in totality (but kudos to the nod to Obama's nuclear power plan and the offshore drilling...if he (Obama) wasn't so progressive in social issues like women's and gay rights, I would probably be marching right behind this banner). Instead, I kept going forward:

This picture captures the diversity of this crowd quite well, don't you think?

Walking side by side...almost.

We have arrived! Let the Lefty Drama begin!

I walk faster than Sarah and Tony, that and I was tired of taking so many pictures of the orange people, so I ran ahead to see some of the other groups, thus arriving at the courthouse first.

The Leonard Peltier Rally. See the guy on the left? (Ha! see what I did there? But really, the guy on the actual left) helped me to capture the waterboarding picture below. He smelled nice. He's my new faceless revolutionary boyfriend.

Hell yeah. (We will meet this sign and the shaggy beard below it in a later post).

Please.

These police officers, while striking some imposing figures, were quite nice. When I asked where a trash can was (this is in the lawn of the Federal Courthouse) they didn't arrest me. I don't think in bomb placement terms. This particular police officer just smiled and said, I think you may find one a few blocks down...then I was like, duh, Megan! I just didn't want to throw my cigarette butt on the ground. We shall be talking about litterbugs here in a few...

There is something to be said about the media, isn't there?

Again, we shall meet this sign and its maker in a later post...I will say this one was my favorite out of all of them.

Waterboarding Show - the only violent (albeit staged) act involving the orange jumpsuits. This was a close as I could get, but I was also close to my faceless revolutionary boyfriend, so I was fine.

This one really wasn't as offensive as he looked. We were having a discussion about the fantastic spectacle of lambsicles...and how they are our favorite food group. I asked him to flip me off, only for journalistic purposes.

This is Jim Page. He gave me a free cd, and sang a beautiful song about freeing Leonard Peltier.

I know! I love how Radical Feminists come in all shapes and sizes...

Let me tell you a story about my sister Sarah. She is the epitome of cute (and not just aesthetically, right Tony?) At one point while walking to the courthouse, some anarchist kid dropped his water bottle on the street. Sarah picks it up, taps him on the shoulder and cries "Don't litter my city!!! Would you like me to recycle this for you?" The anarchist kid dips his head in minor shame, and says meekly, "no, i'll take it. thanks."

This is the face of a true revolutionary right here, folks.

Just two girls from Kansas. (Although we weren't ready to click our heels and head home just yet).

Tony standing tall.

It's hard being so revolutionary! I needed rest.

A grassroots effort.

As a non-pot smoker, I agree wholeheartedly with the notion that pot should be legalized and not succumb to the typical American/globalization corporate practices. I think there are much greater things to worry about (like the government laying claim on my uterus) than pot heads. Seriously, pot heads are great entertainment, I wish there were more of them not wasting space in jail.

This is Alex Jones, a radical. Also, this is a kid with a megaphone, another radical. They were shouting at each other (one with the megaphone, the other with a booming tenor). I couldn't make out the argument, but I snapped a few pictures and left the scene just as they started calling each other "racist." TANGENT: This is one thing I don't understand, I didn't hear any racist comments, and even if there were, can one saying a racist comment really make someone racist inherently (especially when the two parties don't know each other personally and could make an educated assessment of actual racist particulars in the other person)? And why do self-proclaimed "in-the-know" people (such as these two), when they disagree end up just calling each other racist as a means to insult and not to further any sort of meaningful discussion (like what it actually means to be a racist and what it means to say racist things)? Both of these characters could very well be racist, but mainly they are just annoying.

I really want a t-shirt that says JOURNALISM CREW.

A quick moment of solidarity before things got stupid.

He was pretty cool, and progressive.

"DON'T LITTER!"

Code Pink Ladies. They were super cute and peaceful. And pink.

At this point, the Leonard Peltier crowd started yelling at the Gitmo protesters, and then the Mumia people got involved, and everyone was shouting about respecting other people's free speech rights, and my cause is better than your cause, and blah blah blah. For about 45 minutes, this demonstration rally was beautiful, an intermixing of various and diverse people and groups of thought. Everyone was getting along and had a great conversation going. And then people got a bit pretentious with their liberalism and started throwing insults. We're all in the same boat people, no cause is bigger than another, the world isn't how we want it (yet), and united we stand, divided we fall (Lincoln, Sham 69).

We left. Sarah went to run errands, Tony and I started our walk down the 16th Street Mall. Just when we didn't think things could get any worse...

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part Duh.

2008-09-01T13:47:00.006-05:00

Tony G. and I arrive at my sister's (henceforth Sarah) apartment near downtown Denver after a very quick 9 hours on the road. We unpack (read: throw our shit everywhere) and proceed towards the action (little did we know the action was going to culminate the next day). The following is a pictoral record of our jaunt down the famed 16th Street Mall.

Common sight these days...they travel in packs!

Did you know that the Wells Fargo building was designed to look like the top of a cash register? I love architects with a sense of humor. It sure beats the Starbucks in the foreground.

She's a journalist. Like me! I like taking pictures of myself too (just wait, that barrage is coming)

Aw, street flags just for the Convention!

Taking a picture of Tony while he is taking a picture of the capitol building. I like to layer my shots.

Heh. Russian style all beef. (Warning, if you do not like juvenile jokes about genitalia of all sorts, please forgo reading the Vegas section of this journey...coming soon!)

This hotel looked swank and seemed like a place where one could stylishly enjoy a bottle of bubbles. This was until we saw the sign on the door advertising Jet's discriminating practices against all sorts of casual wear (not unlike the garb which we were wearing). The funny thing was their use of horrible grammar. (Please see the Bad Grammar post...coming soon).

This is my new motto: Made from 100% Good.

Pod housing on top of Seeds building! I love obvious things like this.

More journalists. Like ME!

I love light like this.

This building looks like Albania!

Curvy glass...I've seen this architectual decision before...

My favorite little taste of KC...Tony G. (He's a restauranteur...and my friend.)

Skaters. I haven't figured out the buttons on my camera that will allow me to take action shots at night, but I like the blurryness. It represents for me the beauty and speed of alternative lifestyles. (Or, this is what I tell myself because of my amateur photography skills).

This looks like something Zerb would tattoo on somebody. Really, it is just a couple of skaters making practical use of theoretical physics.

I'm off to Carmel for some sightseeing now with Jim and Jessie...I will post more later...

Coming Soon:

Broken hippies, police states, organized anarchy, Bad Grammar 2008, sleepy time with Sarah, Tony and myself, lots and lots of highways, 6 hours in Vegas, several near-death experiences (my face almost exploded off), a Monterey Sunset, and more!!!

Thus spake Megathustra

My Life on the Road...Part 1

2008-09-01T13:05:00.004-05:00

Generally speaking, I don't get out much. My social life consists of living vicariously through the couples and parties that dine at the Restaurant. As much as I purport to drink, I don't all that often; my house is dry and my life is relatively dull. However, one of my goals beginning August 24th, 2008 was to blow all of this out of the water. And let me tell you, lady and gentleman* boy has this goal been realized, and I'm only half way through my trip.

So lets take a look back on the previous week, through pictures and the all-beautiful word, shall we?

I would have to admit that the chaos began a week before I ever hopped into the Mini Cooper and headed west. I had to do laundry, pack, work nearly every shift available at the Restaurant, Fed Ex cleaner copies of various manuscripts to anxious editors, find ownership to now-defunct science journals, among other things. Saturday night (the 23rd) was beautiful, I ate a wonderful ginger-scallion rice meal with Clancy and Rebecca, sipping Côte-Roti and Geverny-Chambartin on their patio whilst discussing futures, education, friendship and perceptions. I LOVE my friends.

However, this dinner turned into hours of conversation, and I still needed to get Jessica my key, clean the house, and pack. So I began the mundane chores at 1:00 am after Jessica left my house with my key, only to fall asleep at 4 am. Tony was coming by at 7.30 am to pick me up.

And he did. With a thermos of coffee. Thank f'n god.

So thus begins The Great Existential Wild Western Road Show...Now With Politics! 2008.

If this isn't a metaphor for trying to fit in, I'm not sure what is...

I'm fine with the fact people chose to discard or lose one half of a pair of shoes all along our intricate highway system. My problem, however, lies in the fact that this person deems it appropriate to use hot pink laces. It is not 1987 any more people, neon colors are not only stylistically OUT, but also quite offensive to my aging eyeballs.

Tony agrees.

Self-serve lunch meats? I'm not so sure about this restaurant concept.

My first existential shot somewhere in the middle of Kansas.

Wind power! Thanks, Kathleen!

Next up:

Pictures from my iPhoto DNC1 Event.

Stay tuned, it gets exciting...

*A note to the fact that I realize very few people read this blog.

Thus spake Megathustra

Me and Chuck D

2008-08-27T23:24:00.001-05:00

Live from the DNC! Public Enemy!

Today was another fun filled day, the details of which will be shared at a later (but not too much later) date.

Thus spake Megathustra

HRC

2008-08-27T02:42:00.000-05:00

Three words:

CYNDI FUCKING LAUPER.

This is all for now...

Thus spake Megathustra

Democratic National Convention. Denver 2008.

2008-08-25T21:49:00.003-05:00

Yeah, so today was interesting:
1. Woke up
2. Coffee
3. Marched from Civic Center Park to the Federal Court House Building amidst a sea of Gitmo protesters
4. Small riot
5. Purchased tickets to the Rufus Wainwright/Margaret Cho/Melissa Etheridge/Cyndi Lauper show
6. Tent state
7. Beer, mussels and gin
8. Bigger riot with tear gas
9. Pizza
10. Michelle Obama's speech

All in a day, kids, all in a day.

Pictures and more coming soon...

Thus spake Megathustra

The Woes of the Uninsured Class: An Update.

2008-08-01T12:17:00.003-05:00

Apparently my eyesight has gotten so much better (-1.00!). (The doctor, during the course of our 3 1/2 minute interaction) had led me to believe that it was just my right eye that had improved). But when I put in the -1.00 contacts this morning I couldn't see a damn thing. So I had to return to the eye place to complain. After saying "oh, the machine read you at -1.00, so it must be true" they told me my eyes just aren't used to working with anything less than -1.50, so they are going to gradually break me into the -1.00. (Of course, this will require me to make at least 3 more appointments and buy at least 3 more boxes (or six, depending on the reliablity of the apparent assumption that my two eyes remain the same scrip) of $70 contacts. Can this happen? Is this normal? I would think that I would be able to see with -1.00 contacts if I have a -1.00 prescription. I don't know, maybe I rely upon common logic too much. Or maybe I shouldn't go to the cheapy eye places because they advertise better deals on contacts/appointments. In that vein, does anyone know any optomotrists who do not look disdainfully upon the uninsured?

Thus spake Megathustra

Fun...with carrots.

2008-07-31T23:00:00.006-05:00

So I eat a lot of carrots as a virtue, and because of this, I think, I had quite the successful eye appointment today. Over the past 5 years my prescription has gone from -1.75 in my right eye to -1.50. So my two peepers now are at the same scrip, which saves quite a bit in those pesky contact fees. In other news, I recently made my triumphant return to the restaurant industry at the oft-lauded, highly patroned Room 39. In addition to seeing my daily ninja (I will try to grab a picture, this guy is awesome, he walks around dressed as a ninja while god-blessing everyone in his path - Midtown's version of Wavin' Dave, I think), one of our chef-lings, Craig, has grown some carrots. For reasons about which I'm trying to turn into a short story, I thought these carrots looked like...well, something else. I hope you enjoy.

Jessica thinks this one looks like a boot. That wasn't my first thought.

I think they have creams for this.

I think Craig will notice when I return the carrots tomorrow, but I ate this one, it was damn good. Yay for local gardening!

"Er. Um. I think, er, somethin's wrong..um...here. Backwards. Er." (Reno 911)

If only my ass looked this good.

Thus spake Megathustra

2+2=4

2008-07-24T10:20:00.004-05:00

Here is another Clancy-caused blurblet. Please note the amateur 1st semester philosophy student mistakes. Enjoy!

2+2=4

I do not dream in numbers. I am a lover, a seeker, a dreamer, a believer, as well as a knower. I know I am these things, but can I be any more than I know? Am I a part of 2+2=4 or is that knowledge a part or me? Am I, or can I be, totally independent of mathematical truths? Are what we know and what we are different? Would I be willing to commit to this difference, if one did exist?

While I know I am composed of such things, do these definitions go beyond the limits of my knowledge? I dream, but what are the bases for my dreams? I love, but what is the extent of my love? I believe, but as I learn, those beliefs change. It seems that for each aspect of myself, there is a quantifiable measurement - and if something is quantifiable, then it is also measurable. With the equation, 2+2=4, is it a part of what I know, or does it encapsulate everything I know in its simplicity and sheer mathematical truth?

I once had to learn that equation, and its subsequent cliché, but at the same time it was still there, regardless of my awareness of its fact. That equation exists independent of my knowledge, or rather anyone's knowledge, but I do not exist because of that equation. Nor do I exist for that equation. I believe in its inherent truth, but I do not rely on that belief or its rooted knowledge in order to live, as I live to dream and do not dream in numbers.

While I may be working with a limited intellectual capacity to fully define the line between what I know and what I am, I am certain that line is there. What we know can get all wrapped up into pretty little packages that claim to define everything about the self. The problem does not lie in denying the existence of this knowledge, or its relationship of difference to the self. The problem is relying on this knowledge to define the self, and believing therein lies the truth.

Thus spake Megathustra

A Blast From The Past

2008-07-23T18:21:00.004-05:00

In an attempt to spark something in this void I call my headspace, I think I will be posting some old time things that I'm not necessarily embarrassed to have claimed to have written.

Here is something a dear friend of mine, who at the time was more like a professor, or something, asked me to write so he could dutifully judge me in a purely academic manner. Basically, this is the response to one of our final exam questions for the German Romanticism class I took in the fall of 2006 (it was quite a fun experience, given the midterm. God, that fucking midterm).

Anyway, for the back story, please read, if you haven't already Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra and Diane Williams's Romancer Erector (the novella). I've included the question for clarity...

Imagine the tightrope walker from Zarathustra, the narrator of "Romancer Erector" and Don Musgrave from Romancer Erector are getting drunk together. What do they say to one another?

Tightrope Walker: I failed somewhere along the way.

Don Musgrave: Oh, come on, honey!

Narrator: Let him vent, it promotes proper airflow. Adequate anyway.

Tightrope Walker: I felt like he wanted to make me a good person.

Don Musgrave: Well, did he at least make lemonade?

Narrator: Or something.

All three characters pause to take swigs of their respective drinks: some microbrew, scotch on the rocks, and a vodka tonic - no lime, though.

Tightrope Walker: What is happiness? I want you to tell me.

Don Musgrave: (doesn't speak, just grunts and pulls down his pants.)

Narrator: But it couldn't be perfect. That definition has to stand on its own.

Tightrope Walker: It's as good as any, I guess.

Narrator: Would you look at that little bird?

Don pulls his pants back up, and another round is ordered. The room is hazy with smoke.

Narrator: I've seen you smile through chipped glasses.

Don Musgrave: And your laugh lines are forgivable.

Narrator: It's easier to imagine too many toasts.

The Tightrope Walker, on a shot of liquid courage, laughs obligingly. The other two wince in a friendly manner at his social ineptitude. The Tightrope Walker leaves to break the seal.

Narrator: I once thought that this River of Urine was turning into a Sea of Shit real quick-like.

Don Musgrave: That's what you told me.

Narrator: Just in respect to our double lives, today it's not so bad. Okay?

Don Musgrave: Cora is boring, you aren't. She does the right thing, you don't. She is ugly, you aren't.

Narrator: You are drunk. The child isn't. I feel rather refreshed.

The Tightrope Walker returns, ounces lighter, but still heavy.

Tightrope Walker: I didn't even see him coming, and I fell.

Narrator: Regret will do that to you.

Don Musgrave: That's what they all say, but can you do it now?

Tightrope Walker: I don't think so, that's what killed me the first time.

Don Musgrave: But did Zarathustra mean anything by it?

Narrator: Did the Devil?

At this, three drinks into a binge, the three people mused momentarily on the effects of good and evil. And some other bullshit.

Narrator: I am perfect because I say so. I practiced yesterday.

Don Musgrave: That's the last time I let that child out un-chaperoned!

Narrator: But you get boring and censored.

Don Musgrave: Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.

Narrator: Way to be original.

Throughout this, the Tightrope Walker began to giggle. Here is what he proposed.

Tightrope Walker: How does one get out from under this umbrella?

Don Musgrave: What umbrella?

Tightrope Walker: This one!

Don Musgrave: Oh, you mean figuratively.

Tightrope Walker: Yes! You wait for it to stop raining!

Narrator: Or you stop being afraid of getting wet.

Don Musgrave gets up and orders some chips. The Tightrope Walker contemplates what was just said. The Narrator forgets it promptly.

Upon returning to the table with some nosh, Don also brings back three roses from the lady wo walks around bar to bar selling an idea she stopped buying into along time ago. You can see it on her face. Unimpressed with himself, Don hands two of the flowers to his two friends.

Tightrope Walker: Oh I love it! I just love it! Here's to you! Thank you!

The glasses clink as the Narrator grins tightly and Don pulls down his pants.

Don Musgrave: Don't thank me. Thank America.

Thus spake Megathustra

The Squish and Others

2008-07-22T18:34:00.003-05:00

Due to a number of interesting (or not so much) events that have happened over the course of the past few weeks, I have found myself finding some sense of solace in music. I have added to a soundtrack created by a dear hipster friend, a dear blue-haired friend, as well as my backlog of itunes. Anyway, here is Megan's Happy Fun Times When You Feel Sorry For Your Self Tunes Soundtrack 2008.

The Zombies: The Way I Feel Inside

Sundress: Ben Kweller

I Want You: Tom Waits

Seaweed: Fruitbats

The Stars of Track and Field: Belle and Sebastian

Lonesome Road Blues: Old Crow Medicine

I'll Be Your Mirror: The Velvet Underground

Hesitating Beauty: Billy Bragg and Wilco

Anyhow I Love You: Guy Clark and Emmylou Harris

Oh Lonesome Me: Neil Young

Lived In Bars: Cat Power

Goodbye: Steve Earle and Emmylou Harris

I Love How You Love Me: Jeff Magnum

I'm Going to Stop Pretending: The Eels

How It Ends: DeVotchKa

Little Jonathan/The Wall: Paul Cantelon

I Don't Like Mondays: The Boomtown Rats

Stay Monkey: Julie Ruin

Love Song: The Damned

Better Off Dead: La Peste

Magazine Girl: Rousers

Hit and Miss Judy: Wreckless Eric

61C Days Turned To Nights: Justin Sane

I'm sure there will be more to come.

Thus spake Megathustra

A Cherry Street Morning, One Tony of a Night

2008-07-18T20:48:00.011-05:00

Let's take another walk, shall we?

I think my land lord should invest in new gutters.

For whom?

But not exclusively, I'm sure.

Don't walk into the light.

Simple, classic.

This building looks like a barn. Actually, it is a linen place, I think.

She always wins.

Your crack is showing.

This window is creepy.

I love Tom Waits.

Heh.

This is a moment.

Dirty bird!!!

Texture study. Count 'em.

Hey asshole, thanks for the "photo op."

So now we are getting closer to my time to shine. You know, the p.m.

I want to fit in.

Just to let you know, the pictures that follow were taken the NEXT a.m. I don't remember setting my camera to sepia. Next time, kids, punch me in the face when I think it is a good idea to drink well gin, mkay?

This is how I always remember Tony's house.

More tonic, please. No seriously. PLEASE.

I don't remember re-setting my camera off of the sepia setting. Next time, kids, don't let me play with expensive toys after drinking well gin and minimal amounts of water. You may punch me in the face.

Gin. Again. Thanks.

Everyone's favorite little piece of KC.

One for old time's sake...

Just to let you know, I survived that night, barely. I'm getting too old for this shit.

Thus spake Megathustra

Happy Fourth of July! Here are some pictures..

2008-07-04T10:17:00.014-05:00

Hello! For some very strange reason I woke up at 5.00 this morning. I thought to myself: "I could go back to sleep. I could continue my quest of actually reading a Russian NOT during the winter months (Anna Karenina, natch). Or I could get my ass out of bed and go take pictures of downtown." Hey that's sounds fun! And it was!

Here are the results of my efforts (lightly photoshopped for 1. your viewing pleasure and 2. to cover up some of my amateur mistakes).

This is where I will be watching fireworks tonight. (The furthest tower). I have cool friends.

Where the sidewalk begins...

Sunrise in Kansas City! (no color correction here, btw, the sky actually turned this gorgeous pinky peach....)

Is my crossword printed yet?

"Tellin' every one he saw 'he went thatta way, boys. Tellin' everyone he saw 'he went thatta way'"

Okay. We spent nearly $300 million on this freaking bowl. The least they could do is spell check their signs.

Score one for the lazy ass.

I like light.

Somewhere in time, the 3rd grade version of myself is twittering in excitement. Now, my present self is throwing up in my mouth. Just a little bit.

See, THIS is why we spent nearly $300 million on this freaking bowl. You go, architect!

It reflects reflecting buildings!

"The steam coming out of the grates made it seem like the whole city was about to blow"

Must have been a good night.

One of Adam's commandments.

I wonder how much this would go for on ebay. It looks like Jesus, right? Or the virgin? No? Okay. Moving on.

Glass. Lots and lots of glass.

See?

That building is the tab A to the Federal Court House's slot B.

Hey! That's ME! In a $300 million mirror!

I think this is a repeat. Blogger and I were having some issues this morning.

You sure are, baby.

This is some MORE glass downtown. I'm sure glad we never get hail.

It is the shit, no?

I-70

Yeah, so this is a wrought iron dildo. How can one NOT take a picture of it?

Does the Federal Court House look like a vagina to anyone else?

Must have been a bad night.

Makeshift ashtray.

So this is what happened to my neighbor the other night during those two freak storms. I'm sure glad downtown is made of glass.

*Blush* Bad word. Almost.

The crane: the official bird of Kansas City (credit: Dr. George Gale)

Don't turn!

"Will I see you tonight, On a downtown train?"

I guess this is my home.

They are staring at me.

The light isn't filtered as well at 6.45 am. But it'll do for these purposes.

Sometimes I just wonder what happened.

Yeah, this is a car in a second story window on Oak. There were several, and trees! There were trees in the window too! People collect the weirdest things.

Is this where it went?

Vaginas have been on my mind lately! But I DID just have my annual...three cheers for a healthy uterus!

The quotes are Tom Waits...I've been listening to Rain Dogs a bit too much lately...or not enough...

Thus spake Megathustra

Randoms

2008-07-04T10:11:00.004-05:00

These are some random pictures from days past. I fiddled with some of the images, because it is more fun that way....

JP with Pixie dust on her eyes.

One night at Anthony's. I'm not quite certain, but I'm pretty sure one of these guys is named Frank.

(I wish I could have caught the Rat Pack picture in the background. Good times, good times).

I like how bold that little starburst feels. Somedays I get like that too.

What the fuck is this and what the fuck is it doing in my house?

Thus spake Megathustra

Oil Stains

2008-07-04T10:02:00.004-05:00

Tom Waits likes oil stains. So I found some, because I agree, they can be quite grotesquely beautiful... (but I don't take pictures well. *le sigh*. Anyway I'm practicing. And see if you can tell which pictures I took on a shady street at sundown and which one I took at 5.30am on a not-so-shady street...I like games.)

Thus spake Megathustra

IDOLS

2008-06-29T01:19:00.004-05:00

I wish I was Anna Karina....

Thus spake Megathustra

Le Tom Waits Extravaganza 2008

2008-06-29T00:59:00.003-05:00

Here's a break down of the previous two days in St. Louis:

Dinner at Houlihan's prior to the Tom Waits show: enchiladas, chicken, beer, rum and gin.

We get to the theater just in time to see the will call line wrapping around the side of the building: bowlers and newsboy hats galore. An interesting mix of hipster, punk, old and new. The line only took about 20 minutes, so Tom and I were able to chain smoke until we got to our (front-ish center balcony - I'm a great ticket buyer) just in time to wait for the rest of the line to take their seats so the show would begin.

Oh my goodness! He played my top 4 favorites (The Russian Dance - as an interlude in Rain Dogs - and Lucky Day from The Black Rider, Anywhere I Lay My Head from Rain Dogs and The Day After Tomorrow from Real Gone). I began tearing up during Lucinda (from Brawlers, Orphans), the song with which he opened. But the waterworks really started with The Day After Tomorrow. (A side note: liquid eyeliner DOES NOT RUN after it has been given ample amount of time to dry, but a girl has to be careful with her usage of mascara on the lower lashes).

One of my favorite parts of the show didn't have to do with Tom Waits, but rather our dear friend, Tom Funk. As Tom the former began playing Make It Rain (from Real Gone), Tom the latter shouted "this is for all the chicks in LA-fuck yea!" (by the way the opening line is "she took all my money, and my best friend" jaded much?) But this specific interaction with the audience to the performer is indicative of the entire show. Tom Waits has for most of the people in attendance at the Fabulous Fox Theatre in St Louis written the soundtracks to our lives. The man sitting in front of Tom the latter buried his face throughout the entire show, with his eyes peeping out of his barely parted fingertips...I feel you man, it was that fucking beautiful.

The lighting director did a fantastic job as well. Throughout the entire set, TW was the only cast member who threw a shadow, and the shadows that fell were circus-esque, gruesome and strangely elongated, just like the man himself.

Tom Wait's son played the drums as well as the man strings together unexpected imagery, the sax player played two saxes at the same time and the guitar player...oh, all I can say is spanishtastically amazing.

After the show, Tom the friend and I bought the obligatory t-shirts of oil stain prints Tom the idol himself took. We then took a cab back to JDay's where we proceeded henceforth to the sports bar up the street. 3 gin on the rocks later, I was pretty tuckered out, while JDay, the trooper, apparently had been drinking rum in our absence, and didn't let up apres the show. (Although he had a pretty tough time on Friday - thank you, dear friend, for not being the first person to puke in my car). The owner of the bar REALLY wanted us to stay, or something, so she was still talking in a husky low voice about drinking laws and bullshit as we ducked out at 1.30am.

One observation about that bar: if a male is to throw a wadded up piece of paper on the floor, the surgically enhanced bartender in a short pink dress will bend over to pick it up. Just to let you know.

Fun times had by all, until our livers ensured a killer hangover the next day. Well, the hangover fairy hit JDay first, and creeped up on me by the time we were to leave for KC. I'm not sure if Tom felt as bad as we did, probably not, since he pretty much stuck to beer while JDay and I rode the hard liquor train. (But it tastes so good....)

We did, though, hit the St. Louis Art Museum where I learned several things: Jesus could have possibly been a proctologist, people back in the day were short, the St. Louis Art Museum is seriously lacking in modern Spanish Art, Oppenheimer isn't just for nukes anymore, and Tom likes bookstores.

Thus spake Megathustra

Tricking Trucks

2008-06-22T12:22:00.003-05:00

My weekend really hasn't been as riddle-savvy as the title may imply. Nope, I have been in Joplin, MO for the past 2 days watching people demolish semi trucks in order to prep them for a ridiculous renovation all for the hit CMT show, Trick my Truck. Yes it is a stupid as it sounds. I will need a healthy dose of gin upon my return to KC to wash away this testosterone infused weekend.

Last night was full of cheap beer, fried bits of goodness, shuffleboard (Tom and I totally schooled Dave and Ryno, btw), bowling (apparently I have great form *biting feminist tongue*), and some interesting socio-economical observations. All in all, these guys are great, just over grown kids with really expensive toys.

Fun weekend, and I will post pictures in 4 months when these episodes air (they like to keep a tight lid on such things, because the confidentiality of a tricked truck is trés important. Apparently).

Thus spake Megathustra

Taking one for the team...

2008-06-08T02:10:00.003-05:00

I watched the Sex and the City movie tonight. Do yourselves a favor and rent Bunuel's Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeouisie. The latter is much more substantial, and it too deals with people with too much time, money, and baggage. The best part of the former is when a character shits herself. Yes, the best part of this movie is poop. Telling, no?

Thus spake Megathustra

The Albanian

2008-05-22T22:09:00.002-05:00

It is official! The Albanian has returned (in fantastic shiny grey suit glory). However, in my post-and current-puke haze, I forgot my camera. The sisters didn't. I'll post more soon after my Fresca (hopefully) settles my stomach.

Things are a-changin' and I, in my liberal liberal sensibilities, can only hope that the next era of my marriage will be as delightfully untraditional as the last! (But, of course, without that pesky Atlantic ocean in our way).

We'll have an appearance at the Frog tomorrow at 7.30 pm, should you want to come for a drink, or to hold my hair.

Gastronomical outputily yours,

Thus spake Megathustra

This is what the last 7 days have looked like for me

2008-05-22T18:12:00.002-05:00

It started with that fucking shark, and hasn't let up since. If you haven't heard from me, this is because I am probably puking my guts out. Oh, and if you aren't already inclined to do so, please vote for Obama (or by some godforsaken miracle-of-sorts, Clinton) in November. Not having health insurance sucks ass.

Thus spake Megathustra

I See Famous People

2008-05-18T14:04:00.000-05:00

Here is a video my friend Tom helped to make pretty. Little did he know that Anti-Flag has been a huge source of a punk-rock crush for me. Not only are they left of left of left of left (politically, socially, etc...JUST LIKE ME!), but Justin Sane (the lead singer) wrote one of my favorite love songs OF ALL TIME, and I've always had a thing for Chris #2 (the bass player). I'm sensing a theme with my obsessions. I'm sure he would have discussed such things with the band, but I think he was distracted by the roller derby girls. *Sigh* Some things will never change.

Check out this video: The Bright Lights of America

Add to My Profile | More Videos

Thus spake Megathustra

Shark Attack via Google Image Libs

2008-05-17T20:36:00.000-05:00

(Note: some of the links may be NSFW. Most have nothing to do with the story. This is the beauty of Google image.)

When the Mako version of said species gives one an incredibly debilitating bout of food poisoning, one must find the humor in it. After all, incessant vomiting can be quite entertaining, when there is nothing else to do.

After a particularly stressful evening au Ribbit I went to 303 to have a drink with Jim and John, a couple who are one state closer to gaining the full rights of their American citizenships. I sipped my prosecco while discussing the highlights of our evenings, until Jim succumbed to a vicious hiccup attack. We left soon after, but not before the bitchy bus boy sneered us away...

I was looking forward to a good nights sleep, finally, given my insomniac tendencies. However, around 3.30 I woke up nauseated. This is weird, I thought, I felt relatively okay otherwise. Just to be on the safe side, I headed to the bathroom, and just in time. Almost immediately, I lost the mako asiatique from the family meal ingested earlier in the evening. For the next three hours or so, I solidified a close relationship to the porcelain while maintaining some fierce cramps. (And I still have about two weeks left before my next feminine visit, although the symptoms are remarkably similar. HA! TMI!!!) The girls were just beside themselves with worry, I love my kittens, they really are supportive when I feel like shit. Sleep came around 6 am, like usual. And I woke later today to a horrible post-puke hangover, forcing me to forgo a trip to Pittsburg to see Chess, her family and my dad. This is a sad day.

The dizziness and the remaining nausea left around 8.00 this evening, but when I could finally eat something, the same feelings from the hours previous came back with a vengeance. Fuck. I will stay horizontal for a bit longer.

The moral of this story: Sharks are stupid. Google Imaging is fun.

Thus spake Megathustra

The Great Outdoorsy Naked Hot Tub Winefest 2008: In Pictures

2008-05-13T20:16:00.000-05:00

Here are some pictures from my recent adventure to Vermont to play with old friends (Jim, Chrissy, Jessie and Petr). What follows are some stream of conscious captions...feel free to add your own!

Jim. And Spatula.

Feet of snow and I'm in a tank top? Heaven!

Gearing up to watch the Great European Adventure 2007: A Movie

What am I thinking?

Zupa Chess and her sidekick Petr.

Who is more hungover in this picture?

Peace.

Aww, sleepy Petr!

Pretty Chrissy! (Despite what she says, she takes damn good pictures)

Jim thinks I'm Princess Leia

Model! I need Jazz hands, I think.

Ah, foreshadowing.

Le cabin.

I need to learn to brush my hair.

My flight was cancelled.

Dinner table

Flowers and Commies. And Juice, don't forget the juice!

IBS is no fun.

But Jim sure is a trooper!

Das homo est Farfegnuegen. (Bad German grammar and spelling. Get over it)

Butter!

Chrissy and Andy...

Only Jessie can be this cute while doing dishes.

LOVE the bangs.

Chrissy and Petr are super cute...

YAY! Someone finished the Boston Marathon!

Aunt Polly!

Why does this bike need a lock?

Boston Firefighters. They were pretty hairy.

I felt really cool. And a little dirty.

Things got a little hectic after this picture was taken.

But God, we're cool.

I think Ed is Elvis.

This picture warms my heart.

Jessie showing her other side: Drunk State Trooper.

Thus spake Megathustra

Wish List for the 28th...HINT!

2008-05-12T00:51:00.001-05:00

I know what Sarah is giving me!!!

A T-Shirt that says "A pickle is just a cucumber soaked in EVIL" Awesome.

Goin' places. Or really really want to....

Tiny Top Hat!

Because I am NOT going through another winter with the tires I currently have...Four Seasons Please!

Mies van der Rohe

From Etsy

Thus spake Megathustra

Some of my new favorite pieces...(or, my birthday is coming up...)

2008-05-12T00:30:00.000-05:00

Some of my original stuff will be appearing soon (currently I'm dealing with a quick-depleting hard drive on my little white minion, so after transferring shite to the other computer photoshopping it, and transferring it back has taken a bit longer than expected...) Anyhoo, I've been seeking out inspiration via the good ole web...I've come across some old and new obsessions.

The first here, is Glenn Brady. A former punk rocker from Australia, Brady has dealt with crippling depression and anxiety, and drinking to overcompensate. He has been in and out of mental institutions (complete with shock therapy treatments) since the age of 26. But now he deals with his issues through paint. And might I say, beautifully:

Next is Ken Currie

Born in 1960, he deals with physical injury like no tomorrow. The social and political intentions and implications are awe-inspiring...

Mayuko Fujino uses paper cut outs to express her vision of the world. There is a delicate femininity to her work that I find fascinating:

Sally Mann (Thanks Tom!) is a photographer from Virginia whose photographs inspire a cool insanity to a increasingly monotonous world. A few years ago she was "Miley Cyrus-ed" because she published a book with intimate pictures of her children. The jury is still out in my head on how appropriate those pictures are, but in the meantime, her film development style makes my jaw drop.

Thus spake Megathustra

The SQUALL

2008-05-02T11:56:00.000-05:00

So last night, after work and work, I come home to my nice little Murphy bed, in hopes of finally getting a good nights sleep. Did I? Nope. At 2 am I awoke to the sound of a train. That's weird, I thought. I don't live next to train tracks. I look outside (at first, I thought there was a disco party in the street), to see the lightening flash, illuminating the wall of rain coming down:

The close up:

Boy, that's a lot of rain. I turn on the TV, I wanted to see if the world had reached its end, and Channel 5 seems to be most apt to tell their audience of their pending doom. Nope, in a matter of about 15-20 minutes or so, the remarkably perpendicular storm line had moved on to Independence and Blue Springs. (Side note: I do enjoy the fact that while KC is experiencing a Storm of the Century, the Channel 5 weather team makes a point to show where the Chiefs' stadium is amidst all the purple swirly doppler clouds, by affixing the little KC Arrowhead just to the side of the Independence marker - such things are important, I'm sure). So I go back to sleep. No death for me tonight, how boring.* So I will conclude with this arty shot I took while using lightening as my flash. Oooohhh:

I cannot let you go with out adding: This is what the overnight weather guy kept repeating last night. "This is a SQUALL. This is completely rare. I apologize to you CSI viewers out there, I will make some calls, we will get you your re-run, but this so rare, we have to be on right now. This is a SQUALL" (mind you, the caps emphasis is all his, although I must agree, that the SQUALL-ishness that abounded this morning at 2 am is completely more interesting than CSI). By the way, can a SQUALL happen in the middle of the country, with no ocean in sight?

Thus spake Megathustra

Undestructible

2008-04-29T12:21:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago I had the fortunate pleasure to visit my cousin Jeremy's baseball game in Omaha, NE. Because of my pervasive work schedule over the previous years, this marked the first time I would see Jeremy pitch for the Centenary Gents. (And he's a senior, so I think I'm a bad cousin). Anyway, I decided to make it up to him by paying homage to the sport and his game by taking pics and video. It was quite fun. Baseball brings up some interesting metaphysical issues, so I had some great conversations with myself whilst traipsing around Creighton stadium.

The night ended with my transformation into a sports fan (not only had I watched two (2) baseball games in a row, but I watched my first KU Basketball game all the way through (with baseball players), AND this event propelled me to watch the championship game a few days later. Woo!)

Here is the fruit of my labor. Please be warned that the song is used without permission, so if it pisses anyone off (like all you copyright lawyers that happen upon this site), let me know and I will take it down.

Thus spake Megathustra

OMFG.

2008-04-23T15:10:00.000-05:00

The Albanian is returning. Still unsure of a specific date, but "soon" is much better than "indefinite." You all are invited to the HUGE PARTY. (More coming soon, but I'm fighting against the dangerously depleted battery of my little white computer).

Love and muffins,

Update: It will be sometime after May 6th.

Update: He will be home at 9.00pm on May 23rd.

Thus spake Megathustra

The Great Outdoorsy Naked Hot Tub Winefest 2008

2008-04-19T17:00:00.001-05:00

Before leaving Kansas City, I had several things to finish (e.g. packing, a discussion about my future (thanks, Clancy!), putting the finishing touches on the Great European Adventure 2007: A Movie to prepare for Pickel's Premiere For Fabulous People Of The Great European Adventure 2007: A Movie 2008, etc..) After all that was accomplished, my great friend Clancy whisked me away to the airport. Little did I know in my somewhat dyslexic mind that my flight did not leave at 6.00 as I had previously believed. No, it left at 5.00. Shit. I looked at the clock in the lower left hand corner of the departure display and saw that it was 4.50 pm. Uh. Run.

I made the flight. But if karma is a force to be reckoned with (in terms of punctuality at least), she reared her ugly head and gave the Boeing 777 on which I rode the bumpiest flight ever. I have never sweated in fear so much in my entire life. I finished the NY Times puzzle (note: Friday's NY Times puzzle) over the course of the flight, only because I was concentrating so hard NOT to think of my pending mortality. I usually make it a point to enjoy the benefits of gravity in my day-to-day existence, but when one is hovering 39,000 feet in the air, the effect of gravity begins to present itself as a bit worrisome. I also learned that I have sweat glands in the most peculiar places that activate in the most anxious situations. Interesting.

Landed in Chicago (the landing made me almost understand what it would be like to be a gay man, or a very open-minded hetero), worked on Jeremy's video (almost finished!) and proceeded to board what would become one of the most uneventful flights to Albany. My seat mate was a kind kind soul who would have offered drink tickets, had he thought to bring them. So I read Dostoevsky instead. To each her own, I guess.

Upon my arrival in Albany, I realized that I hadn't really discussed my pick-up plans in much detail with anyone whom I was about to visit. Eh, alright. So I contact my buddies, who informed me that Petr, the glorious Czech, would be arriving in a black Jetta (turbo-charged, no less) at some point. Okay. What's his cell phone number? I inquire (he and Chrissy live in Prague, so any contact information whilst they are stateside is temporary). Uh, he doesn't have a phone on him. Okay.

I engaged in a particular vice of mine with a nice airline mechanic outside while waiting for our respective rides. (Oh, and upon re-reading that sentence, I should mention that this particular vice is smoking. Get your minds out of the gutter, people). His ride comes, mine does not. So I go explore. I do enjoy watching people wrestle their luggage off the conveyor belt, it is probably the closest I will ever come to witnessing real struggle, given that I refuse to check bags. I will take wrinkles over back ache any day. Alas, instead of watching this contemporary version of man-vs.-beast, I see Petr scanning the crowd for my smelly, airplane-ridden visage. I receive what will become the first of an infinite number of no-less-than-awesome-hugs over the next few hours.

Now, I must break and mention that when Chrissy informed me that the trip from Albany to the cabin just outside of Bromley, VT would take almost 2 hours, I had, in my mid-western raised mind, a boring drive a la KC to Columbia. High speeds, cruise control, and the eternal struggle between Jesus and porn via billboards. NOPE! Here in the Northeast, the speed limit is a cool 45 the entire way, no billboards (just Moose and Horseback Rider crossing signs - although I am keeping my eye out for Bobcat Crossing signs, just to let you know, Geo). Under the blanket of 11.30 pm, cast in a glow of the nearly full moon, I decided that this has to be as close to aesthetic heaven as I will ever get. Petr and I bode our time by discussing the ethics of sexual harassment, Dublin, Eugene (of course - see post below), boobs and man-love. Already starting to feel at home. *sigh*

"Almost There." These are two words that Petr is never allowed to utter again. Seriously, do Czechs have any conception of space and time? But, to his credit, he was totally sober and carefully drove us to our destination, almost always abiding by the suggestion of the 45-mile-an-hour speed limit.

We thus arrive to the cabin (and yes, I let Petr shout: We're There!) I walk up to the cabin (pictures soon) to the blissful sound of Chrissy grunting: meganiluvvvvyouuuuuuuuuyourehereeeeeeeeiluvuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!! (Mumm was involved, fyi). The next few hours are a blur - bubbles poured, risotto warmed, le bete noire (flourless chocolate cake with chocolate ganache a la Jim) served, hugs abound.

Jim promptly passes out (as they had been drinking in celebration of my arrival since 4) Petr and Polly (Chrissy's gorgeous Drew Barrymore look-alike aunt) watch the Golden Girls while Chrissy, Jessie and I hit the hot tub. And yes, Chrissy has great boobs. They do everything she asks! (But really, who doesn't?) Chrissy will soon succumb to the depressive effects of the booze and hit the hay, while Jessie and I contemplate the true nature of love, tradition, and reactions to past experiences (are they more or less authentic than proactive decisions, or is there no difference because we cannot fully separate ourselves from our past? Hmmm)

Time for bed. Jess and I crash on what is possibly the most comfortable bed I have ever had the privilege on which to be horizontal. Sleep came soon and was most welcome.

I awoke the next morning to a glorious Vermont day. There are about 3 or 4 inches of snow on the ground, but I have been wearing a tank top all day. It is about 75 degrees. We have the best lazy day ever. Jim falls prey to (and makes us orifactorally responsible for) the unfortunate consequences of his cream and cheese heavy diet. Petr drifts in and out of consciousness. I figure out how to use the Top Of The Line Espresso Machine. Chrissy, to her chagrin, gets her hung over picture taken - a lot (coming soon). Jessie takes about four hours to eat a grilled cheese. Ah, we live the good life!

I finally convinced Jessie to remove her conviction to have a fancy premier party for the Great European Adventure 2007: A Movie. We stack ourselves like pick up sticks on the ridiculously comfortable couch, and watch the 40-minute foray into adventures past. Tears, laughter, social embarrassment, and drinking. The things of which we are made. (This video in it's entirety will appear next week here at Discontent and Daisies)

Now I am sipping my gin and tonic with cucumber, overlooking the melting snow and waiting for the boys to awaken from their naps to accompany us to town where I will be able to post this message.

Until next time, my pretty babies, you will miss me. But trust me, I will miss you more. In fact, we all will:

Thus spake Megathustra

I See Famous People

2008-04-19T16:58:00.001-05:00

Clicky McClickclick

Thus spake Megathustra

Adventures, And What Will Be New Once I Stop Working So F'n Much

2008-04-17T00:45:00.000-05:00

It is nearing the eve of my long planned trip to re-visit parts of my divided soul: Chrissy, Chess, and Jim. We will be, for the first time in almost 2 years, under the same roof. And no trip is complete without our token Czech, Petr, Chrissy's tour-de-force-of-nature-Europe-yes-as-in-Final-Countdown-Europe-loving husband.

Oh, you '94 Latour and case upon case of bubbles, and lambsicles, and citrus pot de creme, and lavender-infused Australian Shiraz...you are all on my pretentious little food-snobbery mind.

I should be leaving today, BUT due to a decree and subsequent postponement of an event that I shouldn't mention here by the powers that be, I must wait until Friday at 6 pm. Grrr...

Included in this Adventure will be day trips to Boston to see Chrissy's brother run the Marathon, a trip to Montreal to visit Geo-the original DG, and of course his better half, TODG, a woman whose recent vehicular experiences have inspired postings of "Bobcat Crossing" signs in the Northeast. Mostly, however, we will be confined to the cabin, which is probably a good thing for society as a whole.

Stay tuned for pictures, possibly video (I will attempt to adhere to the National Rating System in determining the appropriateness in uploading any digital evidence of escapades that may or may not occur over the coming week - I don't want to have to start charging you people).

More drivel from the depths of my jaded, yet optimistic, abyss of uncertainty:

*The complete The Great European Adventure 2007: The Movie will soon arrive on the blackened page of my new expression.

*I've begun shooting a movie. Deduce for yourself whether or not I will share it here. (Well, duh!)

*Tribal Tomatoes, the ultimate sacrifice.

*I am in the process of ps'ing pictures of my cousin Jeremy's recent baseball game in Omaha. Let it be known, I'm a sports fan now. (Seriously, I watched both baseball games a few Saturdays ago, AND the final two KU basketball games - jeez, what does it all mean?)

In the meantime, here is a short clip of what could happen in Vermont. Because really, any thing that can happen, will. Right?

Or is it that anything that will happen, can?

Thus spake Megathrustra

North Carolina

2008-04-12T13:38:00.000-05:00

I have been creating random pictures of my recent travels. First, lets head off to North Carolina, where the wine flowed, it definitely did not ebb, where I learned to drink like a grad student, met some awesome people, and finally realized: analytic philosophy is not something I want to do. (Not that it was anything I have ever seriously entertained, of course) But there are beautiful and wonderful and smart, fantastic people who bide their time learning such things, so my heart is content to pursue more aesthetic, and perhaps less practical, ventures.

Case in point: WINE:

One very important thing I learned (other than I need to figure out how to flip pictures with my new software...forgive me and don't mention it: I know I'm an idiot technically). But the one very important thing is that I can make friends in dive bars very easily. Maybe it is the gin, maybe it is the proletarian nature of existence, maybe it is the dim lights. Either way, I met some great regulars and bartenders at Linda's on Franklin. Don't let the pinkish sign fool you: this place is totally hardcore (and they just knew to pour me an unsweetened iced tea rather than the local sweeter favorite. I fell in love, just a little bit)

Apparently, in Chapel Hill, there is a predilection towards dumping ice in the street. Ah, I will never understand the true nature of man, but I will take pictures of it.

This is a creepy walkway on campus. The flowers were just barely blooming, the green shedding just the last bit of it's winter grey. I think I like the promise of things more so than actual delivery.

And finally, here is a metaphor for something if I've ever seen one. You figure it out and get back to me.

Thus spake Megathustra

The Great European Adventure 2007: The Trailer

2008-04-08T13:01:00.000-05:00

Gogol Bordello 2008

2008-04-08T12:47:00.000-05:00

Whilst waiting for more pictures from Amanda's camera (although we didn't take to many that night, as I preferred to have a beer or three in my hand) I must share with the masses the best. night. ever.

In order to attend the Thursday, 6 March show, I was required to trade shifts au Frog with Snow, I was supposed to work Saturday, 8 March. Alas, I was able to take this evening off due to a poor showing of the books AND because I only had about 60% of my normal neck range-of-motion. My legs felt like the were about to fall off. These injuries, or descriptions thereof, are not to solicit any pity, but rather I wear them proudly like a badge of punk-rock honor. You see, I witnessed Gogol Bordello and danced like a maniac. The evening proved to be my triumphant return to the pit, where I think I was punched in the kidney. But this is fine because at that particular moment, I was grasping hands with Eugene (the lead singer) and we were screaming in each others' faces. *sigh* True, I probably drank too much, but because of the imbibing, I was able to overcome any social inhibitions I may otherwise have and hung out with the band after the show. I sang a song with Eugene (side note: my Russian isn't too bad after a few beers) and did shots with the bass player (we are now myspace friends). Eugene even called my best friend who has a MASSIVE crush (even more than mine) on him. I'm sure when I finally grow up, such things will seem trite, but for the moment, I will relish this memory of one of the greatest nights ever.

Also, Amanda and her camera had left by this point, so any proof of this glorious event had to be recorded by Tony's camera phone. Hence the blurriness....but YUMMY nonetheless!

Thus spake Megathustra

First post...

2008-04-07T18:58:00.000-05:00

Sluggish mondays equal new blogs. Trying my hand at this again...Maybe this time I won't erase the website accidentally and forget my password.

Until next time, please enjoy this new foray into lesbian photography (Move over Georgia O'Keefe)