The last time I was seriously sick was in November 2019. I was in Brussels and had the flu. This was less than optimal since I has just four days into a two-week Europe trip and had just been through Copenhagen and Amsterdam. Fortunately I had an Airbnb, so on my only full day in the city I just let the fever and chills and fatigue do their worse to me with no interference from housekeeping or anything else. Somehow I felt good enough to continue my journey to Paris the next day and go on with my vacation.
One of the best things about the pandemic was staying home and avoiding everyone’s cooties. Even after we started getting back to normal, I managed to avoid everyone’s cooties. So aside from my reaction to the Covid jabs, I had not been sick in the ensuing years. Until last month.
The first weekend last month I was in Vegas with two of my aunts (who were celebrating birthdays) and my cousin Gina. I was the driver, the only reason I was invited, so we rented a giant fucking Expedition and had a good weekend at Resorts World. We got back Monday, and it was when I was at work on Tuesday that I felt a cough. Fuck. I knew I was sick. The rest of the week was me trying to work from home but just being too fatigued to do anything. I had a real bad cough, and for a couple of days I had a fever and chills. By the end of the next week, I barely started feeling better to go back to work, but I was still coughing away. In fact I still have this lingering cough.
But man, this knocked me on my ass for a couple of weeks. The expired at-home Covid tests said I didn’t have Covid, but who knows? Maybe I finally got Covid? It felt more like a traditional flu. I made sure to mask up so I didn’t spread it to anyone, so I did my part to nip it in the bud.
Moral of the story: don’t get this flu. Just don’t.
I happened to see MVTANT back at the Substance 2022 festival. It was after Jesus and Mary Chain finished their set on the main stage, so I decided to explore the other stages in the Los Angeles Theater. There Joseph Anger was in the mezzanine stage, and I was mesmerized. I wanted to stay longer, but Kanga was scheduled to play downstairs in the ballroom.
A really shitty cellphone pic of MVTANT live at Substance 2022 festival in LA.
The energy he exhibited live belied the tempo and the beat of his music. If the performance was on mute, I would have expected the music to have a really aggressive tempo like Atari Teenage Riot rather than the EBM throwback it was. Once home when I listened to MVTANT, I had to go on YouTube to see the live performance because what was in my memory versus what I was hearing didn’t match up.
MVTANT just released his first proper album Electronic Body Horror this month, almost 40 minutes of EBM horror that made my scarred psyche feel comforted. I don’t know whether it was how much the opener “Disintegration” sounded like a guitar-less Burn-era Sister Machine Gun or “In Dreams” had a “Dig It” style beat. Or the samples on “Trauma Bond” that chugs along leading us to what I assume is an abattoir. And I might be high but I think he might have sampled Mu’s “Paris Hilton” to begin “Pretty Flesh.” But I felt comfort in the horror.
There is nothing manic about the songs. They just propel you closer and closer to this nightmare, not so much a chthonian creature as it’s a scenario, like you are escaping a murderer and make it home to your family but the murderer slashes you up anyway. It’s horrible, yes, but at least you can dance.
As much as I love this album and have not been able to stop playing it, I do wonder whether it is good for me or for the world in general. I really fear living in the past, romanticizing everything about the “good ole days” and not evolving. Fuck stagnation and boredom.
We just had the Cruel World festival where Duran Duran headlined with also featured Blondie, Adam Ant, Ministry playing their first two albums from the early to mid 80s, Gary Numan, Soft Cell. You get my drift. I guess Interpol were there, but they are about 20 years (aka one generation) removed from their hey day, and they were a nostalgia band to begin with anyhow. I just fear we are crossing the line from appreciating the past to living in the past.
Then I take a look at what I’m listening to. Here are the top 10 artists I’ve scrobbled this year:
Besides MVTANT and Filmmaker, that doesn’t look very current, does it?
I get it. I’m getting older, and your musical tastes tend to cement during your adolescence and early adulthood. I’m grateful that there was enough challenging music during those times so that I wouldn’t be so blindsided as to think that Taylor Swift’s music was great.
Maybe that is my horror that this album is driving me towards, that I’ll be meme of Abe Simpson yelling at a cloud. Fuck.
This death pissed me off. I’m still fucking angry about it. Steve Albini was only 16 years older than me. There is no reason his fucking ass should have died of a heart attack. None.
This was a guy who clung onto his principles, was outspoken about them and never wavered. He once said that pop music was for children and idiots. So he hurt some feelings along the way. Our generation never had any to begin with anyway.
I loved his bands Big Black, Rapeman and Shellac. I loved the records he helped engineer: PJ Harvey’s Rid of Me, The Breeders’ Pod, Slint’s Tweez, Ut’s Griller, Jesus Lizard’s Head, Nirvana’s In Utero, Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s Yanqui U.X.O. And there are probably a lot more where he was uncredited.
I first saw him live with Shellac back on Super Bowl Sunday January 28, 2001 with Fatkid. A bunch of us were going to go down to Disneyland to take advantage of the short lines due to the Super Bowl (which was false false false.) But Fatkid and I got wind that Shellac were going to play a morning show at the Knitting Factory. We got tickets to that show and ended up meeting everyone else down in Disney. To date, this was the only show where there were Krispy Kreme donuts for all to partake (I remember the donuts being free, but I could be wrong.)
I need to keep remembering that there is a way to live without succumbing to the evils of banal capitalism, to demand excellence and to not settle for whatever is popular. And fuck Steely Dan.
I really didn’t intend to marathon drive, but it was my only choice since I only had two days to make it from LA to Missouri. It wasn’t too bad, really. The fact that it is around 780 miles from here to Albuquerque, NM and another 830 miles to Springfield, MO does sound daunting. But I had rented a 2023 Infiniti Q50, had cruise control on for most of the way, had my tunes on. I never got sleepy or fatigued on this over 4,000-mile road trip. And since I really only ate once a day since I was sitting down most the day, there weren’t a lot of stops that needed to be made: just gas stops (where I also bought water), and pee breaks here and there.
This trip brought me to Missouri and Arkansas for the first time. This leaves Kansas, Nebraska and Iowa as the only states west of the Mississippi River I have yet to travel to.
New Mexico has awful roads. I-10 was not too bad since there is only like 100 miles of it, but I-40 was fucking horrible. It’s one of the reasons I could not be sleepy since I had to dodge potholes. Although I did have a rental car, I still didn’t want to deal with the hassle of a flat tire in the middle of nowhere.
California drivers need to fucking realize that passing lanes are not travel lanes. That left lane is ONLY for passing.
Elderly drivers from Kansas and Missouri need to have their driver’s licenses revoked. Going slower than the speed limit is not safe driving you fucking cunts.
Camper vans, RVs and other large recreational vehicles need to be off the fucking road. They became problematic when tractor trailers needed to pass them and we were going up a hill.
I became even more sure of my atheism. Somewhere around San Antonio, I saw a pickup truck with a decal on its back window with a cross and Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes kneeling and praying towards the cross. Around it was written, “3 Nails + 1 Cross = 4 Given.” This boils down my problems with modern Christianity, that if you believe in Jesus you will go to heaven despite any actions you do on earth. It allows people to ease their consciences, to have no moral consequences for their actions. Sure they might have to suffer punishments for their actions, but because they believe in Jesus all guilt be gone! It has created such a moral bankruptcy and self-entitlement that’s pretty fucking sad.
I noticed this the most in the drivers of Texas. Their aggression is very intentional and verging on maniacal. I saw many cars cut over multiple lanes on the interstate to get to “their” spot in the fast lane that they felt is rightfully theirs. Mine mine mine. It was quite appalling and scary to be frank. But whatever. They’re going to heaven, so who cares?
While driving out of Texas I realized that since I was on the I-10, I would be passing through Tucson. In Tucson is the only location that Sweet Tomatoes (parent company of the beloved Souplantation) reopened. I was also fortunate that my timing landed me there about 30 minutes before it opened. It was everything I remembered it being: the salad bar, the soups, the breads, the soft serve and toppings. But what was odd was that in line waiting for it to open I saw four people who had amputated legs. I found that to be an abnormally high amount of amputees.
I was so happy to return to California. It sounds odd especially for people who live outside the state who sees us as freaks, but once I crossed the Colorado River I exhaled and felt relief. It’s not that I think we are normal, but more so that it’s the sort of abnormality that I’m used to. Like the stupid shit people in Texas do perplexes me, but I understand the reasons for the stupid shit we do here in California. It’s more of a comfort of familiarity rather than anything else.
It’s been a while since I did a long road trip like this, so it was nice to see the states again. Now to go to the final states I have left…
After watching the total solar eclipse from Newport, Oregon back in 2017, I was determined to make it to this eclipse. If for no other reason depending on where I went I would get a four-minute eclipse rather than the one minute I got.
My initial plan was to go to the northern Dallas suburb of Allen, Texas to my aunt’s house and watch it with her. When I started checking the weather models a couple of weeks ago, things were starting to look cloudy. It then alternated between clear and cloudy leading right up to the last Saturday when I planned to leave. So I decided to take my Plan C option: to go to southeast Missouri to Poplar Bluff right near the bootheel.
I was going to sleep in Springfield, MO Sunday night and then make my way along US Route 60 east to Poplar Bluff to see the four minutes, nine seconds of totality. Since most of that route was going to be in the path of totality, I figured if I got stuck in traffic (which I counted on happening), I wouldn’t miss a thing.
It turned out the anticipated traffic jams didn’t happen. Sure there were what I assumed to be more traffic than normal, but we were going at least the speed limit through the hills of the Ozarks. I was shocked. I ended up in Poplar Bluff by 11am and had no idea where to go. I just figured I’d be stuck in traffic. So I found a park, drove out there and since all of the parking spaces were already taken I parked on the side of the road.
As you can see there were just a couple of wisps in the sky, but I was vindicated in my last minute plans. I was under the shade of a tree, there was a cool breeze blowing, and I knew once the eclipse started it would cool down around 10F. I only wished I had a better internet connection.
There was a family that were right behind me who thought I was taking really shitty pictures of the eclipse with my phone through my eclipse glasses, but I showed them which settings you needed to get something halfway decent:
Again to describe the darkness is difficult because it’s the sort of thing that only happens in an eclipse. Things dim, the shadows get weird, the birds shut up while the cicadas take over. But it’s not like a normal sunset, or storm clouds blocking the sun, or anything you know. In the final seconds before totality, I wanted to film what happened as the darkness really descended quickly, but I ended up filming totality by mistake.
Again tears came out. Even though this was my second time witnessing this, it didn’t diminish how amazing it was. While in Newport, OR in 2017 I only had a minute to bask, this time I had over four minutes. So I got my good camera with the f/300 lens and took this:
It wasn’t dark enough to see anything more than Jupiter and Venus in the sky, so I just spent the time alternately looking at the eclipse and looking at my surroundings. Then just like that, it ended far too soon.
While my first instinct was to run to my car (the black car in the lower right in the picture above) to beat traffic, there was one problem: while I thought the spot I parked on was grass, it was actually mud. A lot of mud. And I was stuck. Fortunately I called Enterprise right when I got there to schedule the tow truck. I worked with them to get to the park about an hour after the eclipse in hopes to let the cars leave. It took a little longer, but I managed to get out, go to a car wash to power wash the mud from the wheel wells and get to Texarkana, TX.
As great as it was to see this a second time, I think I will leave it at that. Unless I happen to be very close to the path of totality in the future, I won’t be chasing eclipses again. I don’t want them to lose their luster. So that’s it.
I ended up heading back towards Dallas and had lunch with my aunt and got back to LA on Friday. Yes. LA to SE Missouri and back in six days. Solo. I have other thoughts on this trip, but I’ll write about those later.
Living in Los Angeles, I didn’t expect this. I knew we were supposed to get rain late Wednesday afternoon, and on the drive home I certain drove through some pretty heavy rain. But Thursday was supposed to be clear. And it was.
I was busy doing work things, and I noticed an alert on my phone at around 2:45 about lightning in the area (Arcadia.) That didn’t sound right. At lunch everything was sunny and clear. But I looked at the radar and saw that some storms had popped up. I still didn’t believe it until I turned around and saw the rain outside my window. I didn’t know what to think.
I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since I know how afternoon heat + atmospheric instability can lead to isolated storm cells forming, but this isn’t fucking Oklahoma. We even got some hail, too, and periodically we could hear thunder. After the amusement wore off, I went back to work and didn’t think much about it.
Then at 4:45 when I left the office, it was pouring. Pouring to the point where the fastest setting on my windshield wipers was not fast enough. And I noticed that water was starting to flood the road. I figured that I would stay in the center of the road, taking up both lanes since that is the highest part of the road. And I only had 5 blocks to go until I reached the freeway, so I should make it.
Well after one block, the water really started to rise and went over the sidewalk. I know the mantra, turn around don’t drown, so I decided to head back to the office. My decision was affirmed when while at a red light I saw trash bins floating like boats on the road. Water was starting to seep into my engine because my engine light came on.
I got back to the office, waited it out for 30 minutes, confirmed the water retreated and made the journey home. Aside from a couple of lightning strikes, by the time I got about 5 miles away the rain had stopped. By the time I got to DTLA, I saw that it had rained a little.
I’ve driven through a lot of conditions whether it is rain, storms, snow, whatever. But this was the first time when I had water rise up that quickly. It wasn’t scary since I knew what I needed to do. It was just alarming since this is the last place on earth I would have ever imagined this happening.
Well, to offset the nuttiness of this, and because I didn’t take pictures or video of any of this, here is Baba being a good coworker.
Yeah I do this unexpectedly from time to time. When I woke up this morning I looked like this:
Now I look like this:
While going to Death Valley last Saturday, I was annoyed by how much of my fucking hair was all around my car. It was fucking everywhere. That’s when I started thinking about getting my haircut. On Thursday I decided that it had to be done. I made the appointment on Friday and voila!
That’s it. That’s about as much excitement as I can withstand for one week.
I saw that Death Valley had an ancient lake reappear due to the recent deluges the desert has received thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Hillary last year and the couple of atmospheric rivers. I decided pretty quickly that I wanted to see this ancient Lake Manly before it evaporated. Fortunately Tyler and Lauren had no plans on Saturday, and I managed to convince them to come along with me.
Death Valley is already a surreal place, especially when you are down in Badwater Basin. In the lowest place in North America, you are usually surrounded by bright white salt flats that reflect the unforgiving sun. I decided to start the journey up in the hills at Dante’s Point (elev. 5,575 ft.) which overlooks Badwater (elev. -282 ft.) Despite knowing the lake exists, it still took our breaths away once we saw the first glimpse of the view.
Dante’s View overlook Badwater Basin and the resurgent Lake Manly
If you look close enough at the picture above, you can see cars lining the road that is right on the edge of the water. Of course only this view would not do, so we got up close and personal to the water.
People walking into Lake Manly from Badwater Basin.
First, no, I did not go into the water. There was no way I wanted to step into what amounted to a communal pedicure tub. But seeing the difference between this and what it looks like dry…
Me at Badwater Basin in October 2021 during dryer times.
Hm. My hair was also long the last time I was there.
It is said that in a few weeks the lake will be too shallow to kayak or paddleboard on it and that it will completely disappear by summer. I just had to see what they’re calling a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. But, to be honest, with the way our climate is changing I have my doubts about the rarity of this.
“Graffiti Tower” in DTLA. Picture courtesy NBC News.
Tall unfinished luxury housing towers right next to Crypto Arena. Chinese developer went bankrupt in 2019 and abandoned the site. It sat dormant until taggers fucking finally jumped the fences and started to tag it floor by floor a month or so ago. After all the tagging and Youtubers base-jumping off the building, it’s now become a “public safety issue” to officials. AND SOMETHING MUST BE DONE ABOUT IT.
Let’s not talk about how the project probably should never have been given a green light in the first place, for all the talk about building affordable housing that this was a luxury project, that no one is buying/leasing any of the other luxury apartments in the “South Park” area of DTLA. I mean shit, I’m not going to spend $4,000 a month to rent a 400 square-foot studio.
The geniuses at city hall have decided to spend millions to “clean up the eyesore” and then bill the developer — you can’t collect on a bankrupt company, so I guess we’re all paying for it. But there is something obvious that is more worrying than some spray paint and daredevils: since this is exposed to the elements, when will it come crashing down?
Apparently it costs too much to demolish the site. It will also cost too much to finish the project. And China ain’t gonna do shit because why would they? And the city won’t use eminent domain since they only do that to poor people. So then what?
I say let the taggers have at it. It’s the real symbol of Los Angeles in the 2020s — a monument of greed and accelerated decay. To be honest, you can see a lot better tagging in Berlin. I just hope it’s still standing come 2028 when there will be Olympic games in Crypto (talk about another monument of greed and bust.) And when it comes down, well, let’s just hope no one is close by it. Just like for years this city’s homeless policy is hoping it goes away. Hope. Isn’t that what Obama ran on in 2008? Where are we on that now?
For some reason I worked at CNN as a producer for Anderson Cooper’s show. We were live on air, and I was running around the periphery doing producer things. At least I suppose I was a producer since I was indeed a CNN employee and what else would I be doing running around the edges of the stage coordinating things? Also it seems the dress codes were never updated from the 50s since we were all wearing suits.
After the show wrapped up, Anderson was called into a meeting with the higher ups. A bunch of other producers and anchors and I were wondering what was up when one of them said that they were abruptly replacing Anderson.
I was apoplectic. I can’t begin to describe the rage I felt. It was so visceral that at one point I took off a ring I was wearing and threw it against the conference room window where they were having the meeting. I couldn’t understand why they were sacking Anderson – he’s such a fucking milktoast guy and he brings the ratings. Why change?
Next thing I know, the meeting ended. I saw Anderson from afar. We locked eyes, and he pointed at me. There was no anger or emotion in it. It was rather matter-of-fact, maybe a slight congratulations if there was any emotion in it.
That confused me. What did any of this have to do with me? A flurry of thoughts raced through my mind. Why? How? Huh? All of this was interrupted when I was called into the conference room.
The network president told me they were going in a new direction and gave me Anderson’s time slot. What the fuck? Why me? I’m not experienced! I’ve never read off a prompter much less on live television (actually I have in real life, but in this dream I did not.) Would this make me a traitor if I take this job? Oh my god I’m rich! What happens when they catch on I’m a fraud in a couple of months? What kind of show will I do? What do I need to do? How fucking stupid would I be if I didn’t take this?
Of course I was frozen with a shocked expression, nothing coming out of my mouth. They were talking about I don’t know what. My brain just shut down. I just looked at the people in that room trying to make sense of this.
Once the meeting was done, they escorted me downstairs to another huge conference room where my mom and colleagues were gathered for a celebration. I finally came to and started making jokes as I normally do, looking under the table and asking if they had the right person. Of course my mom annoyed me when she asked the president about my salary.
Then I woke up to pee.
I am confused by this. I don’t watch CNN, I don’t particularly like Anderson Cooper, I have never wanted to be a news reader, don’t want to be famous. I just want to be rich, but not anything like this. So why is my subconscious expressing this nonsense to me? I guess maybe deep down I do want to be a news reader? Whatever.
