Festival in the (Sahara) Desert

For all of the folks who like Coachella or Burning Man, here’s Festival in the Desert.
This afternoon on NPR’s All Things Considered they did a wonderful piece on the music festival that is held in the Sahara desert in norther Mali. Nomadic Tuareg music and culture meets western adventure and music buffs. I highly recommend listening to the audio. I about fell over laughing at Robert Plant’s wry comments on the Festival and why he goes.

Paul’s Cocktails – Open at 6am

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Today, Wed. July 2nd, as I was taking my bike ride to the Orange Plaza Post Office to see if I had any good mail and then to Rod’s for my daily LA Times, I watched a few of the Resident Drunks (hard core regulars) outside of Paul’s Cocktails (kitty corner to Rod’s and the Ex-Mormons for Jesus), screaming at some folks who had gotten into a car accident.
Up to this point, I had been experiencing some big time writer’s block on my 3 page story due in my Fiction I class this evening. Thanks to the drunks outside of Paul’s for providing me some fodder. I suppose that I ought to go buy them a drink…

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Davezilla on the News

If you aren’t already a daily fan, as I am, of Davezilla’s Tomfoolery and Monkeyshine blog, then you must start by reading and viewing the following Post “And About the News.”
Humor is essential in everyone’s lives. How Davezilla manages to come up with 2-3 posts per day is beyond me, but I am very thankful.

Spam is evil…

In the 9 years that I have had my very own email address, I had 5 years of happy tech bliss and 4 years of increasing agitation towards people who send unsolicited emails on how to increase my penis size (well, no thank you, I don’t have one and I don’t want to increase it), increase breast size (they increased on their own, and I wish they would go down again), mortages (hell, I rent a great house in a lovely neighborhood for $500 a month, what mortage can beat that?), porn, pleas to help poor disenfranchised Africans, etc.
For the last 3 years, I have tried to out smart the spammers with filters, earthlink’s spaminator, spam assaisin on my barflies.net domain, outright deleting email addresses, etc. To no avail, I still get over 50 spams a day to various email addresses. Rat Bastards.
I have seen several sets of folks out in Blog-land (Derek P.) and on mailing lists use online mail filter services that require all emailers to answer a simple question to see if they are a real person and not a spammer or computer mailer.
I decided to try one today: Knowspam.net. I signed up my 3 email addresses that get the most email, and I will let you know tomorrow how it goes. I usually get the worst of the spam overnight or over the weekend.

Gail Worley does it again

Gail Worley has done it again: Another quality interview with some of rock’s most interesting characters.
Here is an amusing outtake from her recent interview in Ink19 with Al and Paul from Ministry:

If it’s cool to ask you this, what was your impetus for cleaning up?

Al: I found a new drug, and the drug is senility. When you get to my age it’s the ultimate freedom. I can go out in my Depends at 6 in the morning and walk down the rain soaked street and say hello to my neighbors wearing nothing but that and combat boots, and it’s chalked up to senility. And you can’t do that with drugs. Senility is much cooler…and it’s legal. It’s a legal high.

How long have you been senile now?

Al: Four months. Four months with nothing. Life’s a bowl of cherries now, not a bowl of pits. It’s good.

Oh yeah, I forgot…

The most amusing part of last night’s Adolescents show at Alex’s Bar in Long Beach was not the crowd, it was not the bands, it was not the drunk broken bottle blood squirts, it was not my drunk friends, it was the security patrol guy.
Liz Ortega and I departed the bar/club and paid our respects to the Steve & Tony “receiving” line, walked down a long alley to the next side street where our cars were parked when a security patrol car pulled up next to us. The security guard rolled down the window to ask where we were coming from.
“A concert at Alex’s”, I reply.
“Oh,” says the security guy, “but why is everyone wearing black?”
Liz and I look at each other. We are both dressed in black. Everyone pouring down the alley is dressed in at least 50% black.
“It was a punk concert.” I said.
“Oh,” says the security guy. He looks baffled. Decides there is no threat, and drives off.
Now, the Adolescents show was in the LBC. Did I not get the memo, or has Long Beach instituted a color only dress code? Really. As I drove up Redondo towards PCH, all the girls pouring out of the lesbian bars were wearing jeans and black. Someone forgot to give them the color memo, too.
But maybe jeans count as color? Thus, the Alex’s Bar patrons in their black, grey and red dickies pants count as black. Hmm… this fashion conumdrum warrants more thinking.
When the powers that be that reside in the fashion design studios of NYC and Milan decide to make clothes that are not scary pale hippy-dippy-trippy-gypsy 70s knock-offs and actually go to real colors like bright & dark colors, then maybe I will add some non-black to my wardrobe.
Just say no to biege, khaki, pale pink, pale whatever. BLECH!
Give me cranberry, give me wine, give me sapphire blue, give me dark green, give me deep royal purple, give me vibrant apricot! Wishful thinking on my part.