Gone Fishin'

Ok, here are the trip details...

First, fifteen of us are leaving tomorrow for Palm Springs for the Coachella Valley Music Festival. Saturday and Sunday we will be pounded with twelve hours worth of music in the desert sun. We rented a nine-bedroom house where the evenings will be filled with checkers and soft jazz while drinking Franzia blush.

Here's are some of the bands in the line-up:

• Nine Inch Nails
• New Order
• Gang of Four
• The Faint
• Wilco
• Weezer
• Cold Play (bleech)

What's the deal with Cold Play? I don't know, maybe I'm just being a snob, but for cryin' out loud, these guys are about as spicy and flavorful as English cuisine. Maybe I'll head back to the house a little early and tap the Franzia box.

Then, on Monday, three of us are taking off to Cabo San Lucas for 5 days.

In no particular order there will be fishing, snorkling, surfing, dune-buggy riding, sea-kayaking, women oggling and Cinco de Mayo celebrating. I'll make sure to take some pictures, because as everyone knows (the same everyone that Andrew Sullivan always refers to in backing up hyperbole), I look super-hot with a tan.

Take care of Kyle while I'm gone. Come by, shout hello, and make sure he keeps the place tidy. Well, I told him he is allowed to have a party, but no cops, no drugs, no Cold Play and make sure he keeps the plastic on the furniture. See you Monday the 9th!

Hugs, Wet Kisses, Steamy Love and Hairgrease,
Ten Fingers, 6 Strings

Vai - Real Illusions: Reflections Review (Part I)

On the eve of my vacation, I would like to take the time to write up a review of the first half of the latest Steve Vai album "Real Illusions: Reflections".

First a disclaimer: this is a guitar player's album and Steve Vai has always been a guitar player's guitar player. So, to the average listener, this may just sound like a bunch of noise. However to anyone who has ever composed, seriously played an instrument, engineered or produced a record, or wanked out on the guitar, this album is certainly frightening and mind-blowing.

1) Building the Church - When you have the classically trained Tony McAlpine as your keyboard player, you have my attention instantly. Vai has McAlpine open with a legato flury followed up by a smooth, d-tuned groove by Vai, bassist Billy Sheenan and drummer Jeremy Colson. Immediately, I was struck by a theme that would later become apparent throughout the album: Vai's focus was clearly geared more towards orchestrastion. There are many layered guitars, counter-balancing one another in rhythm and tonally through out melodic, main themes. Most of it is very subtle though, as the backing rhythm is a straight rock groove that makes your foot stomp...not tap...stomp.

2) Dying For Your Love - Here Vai gets back into his Zappa roots. For the last 4 records, Vai has experimented with singing, and these tracks usually get skipped by me. It's always bummed me out since he always played with such quality musicians, why not a decent singer? However, this song is really weird and his freakish voice really works here and the entire song is orchestrated and layered in a methodical way. Each passage is played differently and his haunting lead passages are a perfect compliment. It was a tune that I had to get used to, but I like it now.

3) Glorious - Another song that started out with a rather a standard rock beat. But, the lead melody that comes in is a clean guitar, with a wah that is modulated to sound like a crying cat. Then, he proceedes to play a 64th-note passage that doubles with Tony McAlpine in perfect harmony.

4) K'm-Pee-Du-Wee - This slow 38 bpm song is style where Vai is at his best. Vai is one of the most articulate guitar players in terms of the breadth of vocabulary that he brings to the instrument. He begins by playing sweet, haunting passages that change with each phrase; it's almost as if he is telling a story throughout. Vai always gets a hard time for being overly obsessed with technique, and I find the argument lazy and ignorant. Vai uses a myriad of techniques to challenge your mind and your soul in ways you didn't think possible and this is one of the best examples of this. This is one of my favorite tracks on the record.

5) Firewall - Another vocal track. Vai is making me eat my words as this song is just plain fun! The rhythm track is sort of funky, yet his the main chorus has an orchestrated horn section that is Tower of Power-ish, while his 7-string plays in a low funky growl. Not only that, the percussion in the background is doing all sorts of wacky stuff.

6) Freak Show Excess - This is by far my favorite track on the album, and now one of my favorite Vai tunes ever. This song is a perfect blend of creativity, flawless orchestration that modulates in several different keys throughout, and a demonstration of total technical mastery. Steve was inspired by Bulgarian wedding music when he wrote this tune, and you can hear all the odd ghost notes throughout that modulate his passages ever so subtlely. Here is what makes Vai a master versus just a guy with fast fingers; he makes it sound effortless within a flowing rhythm. When the third solo breaks down, he is actually playing the piece in a 17/16 time signature. I sat down to figure this passage out, and it took me 4 hours to figure out all the notes, while taking me 4 days to actually play it without screwing up. The end of the tune ends in typical Vai silliness with a hammer-on, pull-off wank that combines whammy-bar techniques that make his guitar flat out scream.

Ok, Songs 7 - 10 and a summary later...

...TF6S to go on Vacation

Uh oh. What is everyone to do? What will you read in my absense? If I go on vacation, will that cause you to run to the classics section at Barnes and Noble so you can read the delicate prose of a Steinbeck, or the hilarity and irony of Mark Twain? Some have even said that the writing on this site reminds them of a Hemmingway with lots more typos, less interesting development and imbicilic rants on guitars and climbing.

Have no fear, your thirst will be quenched without having to spend $11 on a paperback. I understand the latest trend in blogging is to get a guest blogger to actually write something interesting while you're on vacation, so I have kindly asked Kyle at From the Still to do some guest blogging over here next week.

A little intro is needed. Kyle, God Bless his soul, is Tennessian who actually thinks Southern culture is something to be emulated and loved. Often times he can be found in tears at the foot of this statue of Nathan Bedfort Forrest on I 65 whimpering, "The South will r--ra-ra-riiise a--aa--gaaaain":

No, this statue is not in front of a Super-Kmart and you do not need $0.25 to ride the horsey.

However, Kyle happens to be one of my best friends on this earth (peanut gallery: you treat your best friends like that???) and a fantastic writer. He is the man that introduced me to good bourbon, fast women, methodically taking our friends' money in poker, and blazing trails on mountains in three feet of fresh snow with snowshoes and no gloves in Rocky Mountain National Park.

How can someone not be friends with someone like that?

Kyle now resides in Colorado with his lovely wife and his studly pea-packer, Destin.

Good thing he didn't let me speak at his rehersal dinner almost two years ago or he would have been a dead man. Shrewdly, he and his wife were able to keep my big mouth shut by distracting me with the smokin' hotties in the wedding party.

Please welcome him with open arms, a pint of Guinness and stiff, leather belt...

Zarqawi Almost Nabbed?

Ian, did you let Abu out of the Ham-room?

The Future is Now

Longtime readers of this site are well acquanted with the my support and positive views on the overall execution of the war in Iraq, so I'd like to offer some further counterpoints to current events there. Last Thursday the anti-government terrorists shot down a Bulgarian civilian helecopter, carrying "six US security contractors, three Bulgarian crew members and two Fijian security guards." At the end of the story, the BBC left these parting shots:

Insurgents seem to have stepped up attacks amid delays in forming a new government, the BBC's Jim Muir in Baghdad reports.

This is true. I do not have any statistics, but from all news accounts that I have been following recently, there does seem to be an uptick attacks. However, like all events in war, it is important to keep a proper perspective. Bombs are still going off and assassination attempts are frequent--Iraq remains and extremely dangerous place. But the anti-government have yet to slow the democratic momentum in Iraq. Common Iraqis, of all backgrounds, are increasingly fed up with the murders who are trying to derail the country.

Firstly, Strategypage reports on what happened to the terrorists that shot down the Bulgarian helecopter:

Ten suspects have been arrested, for alleged involvement in the downing of a Bulgarian helicopters on the 21st. The suspected were pointed out by other Iraqis, in a pattern that is becoming increasingly common. The terrorists have been losing popular support, as well as angering Iraqis to the point where many Iraqis are no longer afraid to resist the gangs that control many villages and neighborhoods by fear. The terrorists are usually Sunni Arabs who either supported Saddam, or are violently opposed to the idea of the Shia majority running the country. Most Sunni Arabs don't really care who runs the place, as long as it is done with less violence and corruption than Saddam used.

Furthermore, how have the Iraqis been responding to the increased activity of terror attacks? Strategypage continues:

The terrorists continued their bombing campaign over the weekend, setting off explosions outside a mosque and a police station, killing at least twenty civilians, and wounding over 80. These tactics do not appear to be encouraging Iraqis to support the terrorists, or reduce popular support for the government. The Americans are no longer blamed for the bombings, although it's still popular to blame the attacks on Islamic "foreigners." Reluctantly, Iraqis have come to admit that there is such a thing as Islamic terrorism. What Iraqis have not yet come to grips with is the fact that many of the terrorists are Iraqi Islamic radicals. It's recognized that there are Iraqi terrorists, but these are generally tagged as diehard Saddam supporters. Many are, but the worst of this lot are on jihad, out to kill infidels and heretics like Shia Moslems and Sunnis who do not support the terrorists.

Although ultimate success for democracy in Iraq is a long-ways off, the terrorists cannot win this fight on the battlefield. They cannot engage Iraqi commando or police forces without getting beaten, and any attacks against American forces are suicidal. The only recourse they have left is to bomb soft-targets, and these attacks have only swayed Iraqi opinion against them. Unfortunately, these hard-core jihadis are going to fight to the death, and even though their cause loses support with each subsequent bombing, there will be more bloodshed until they are finally wiped off the map.

The terrorists have done more harm to the cause of jihad than any American or non-fundamentalist campaign could have ever done. Let's just pray that, for the sake of the Iraqi people, this ends sooner rather than later; hopefully with Zarqawi's lifeless body hanging from a rope in Firdos Square.

UPDATE: Strategypage has been an invaluable resource in providing accurate and detailed analysis on the war (I rely on their data quite a bit). I have yet to find any source anywhere that comes close, as most media outlets have had a rather "unhelpful" view in Iraq. If you are so inclined, they could use some support in keeping the site alive.

The EU and the Arabs

Marc Schulman at "American Future" has another excellent analysis (part IV) of the EU and the Arabs. This one is going to take a minute to digest, but go read it now.

Callin' Out "From the Still"

If you went to Dublin, you'd be too busy in the pub getting pissed on Guiness to make it to the U2 concert.

Today

I’m getting very antsy for summer. Here in San Francisco, we’ve had some rare, winter rain that's carried over into April. Readers from other, non-arid areas may be quick to scoff at my complaints about the weather, however this will be one of the rarified exceptions where relativism has its place. Its not supposed to rain here dammit, and staring at my climbing bag all day long has brought a melancholy over me that needs to be mollified.

I could throw scarves at passer-bys, but I don’t want to risk an assault charge. Nor shall I drink my sorrows away, but after watching this movie, I want to drink a whole bottle of Merlot just to watch Miles freak out like the whiny, little wank that he is.

Then again, maybe I should just crank up some Van Halen and shut up.

Victor Davis Hanson vs Jarod Diamond

Today, Jeff at "Beautiful Atrocities" linked to Victor Davis Hanson's critique of Jarod Diamond's book Guns, Germs, and Steel. This is a fantastic critique, and pretty much a lay-up for Hanson:

Jared Diamond’s bestselling Guns, Germs, and Steel argued that geography trumped culture, and that the current privileged position of the West was therefore mostly attributable to the advantageous resources in, and location of, Western countries, rather than to Europe’s singular values. Despite the allure of such a politically correct exegesis — President Clinton endorsed the book wholeheartedly — there were numerous criticisms of this determinist idea of natural accidents resulting in the present-day dominance of the West. At some point a Cleisthenes, Plato, Augustine, Magna Carta, Sistine Chapel, Thomas Edison, or Albert Einstein — and the thinking and substructure that produced them — is worth more than long, indented coastlines and concentrations of iron ore. Diamond seemed to be terribly confused about the course of 2,500 years of Western history: Environment, far from being a precondition for Western success, was often almost irrelevant to it.

I had a long discussion in a bar with some lefty friends about Diamond's book, which even they found difficult to defend after they popped off a few intial drive-by comments. Looking at objective history, there are few things one can stand on to critique Western Civilization in comparison to the other world civilizations.

I find the belief and the hope in uptopianism to be the primary culprit. The greater the desire for said fantasy, the more the disconnect from reality. Utopians seeing the great, fecal stain that is human history are inevitably filled with self-loathing over the inability reconcile themselves to the cruel harsh world that is far too complex to fit within the confines of a non-judgmental, post-modern "neutrality." This worldview causes them to demonize those heretics who believe that cultures who embrace a common law, private property, democracy, capitalism, and free speech are objectively superior to those that don't. Each time there is a terrible occurrence within a Western country's borders, these critics are ready to throw the baby out with the bathwater (unless of course the event happened in France), instead of digging into human history to find the real root cause of such inequities.

Hanson's argument over a "weathly and bored elite class" is such a truism. Little do the West's critics know (on the left and the right) that Western Civilization, and specifically the idea of America itself, is rooted in the fundamental understanding that human nature is flawed and far from perfect. Human history isn't neccessarily redeemed by such an acknowledgement, but if taken as axiomatic, is capable of building the basis of a society that is more capable of getting along in the world than any competing, transcendent views of history.

UPDATE: Penraker comments:

I have always considered Jared Diamond's work suspect. There seems to be an almost childlike belief among liberals that all of history can be explained by the "secret key" and usually, this secret key is an awfully simplistic one. Diamond's secret key is Guns, Germs and Steel.

Yes, the "secret key"/hyperpole argument is ripe pickings for substantive historians such as VDH. History is such a complicated mess, and for one to paint a theory with such a wide brush like, "It's all about Oil!" or "It's all about Geography!" is not only fallacy, it's not even remotely interesting. I'd feel sorry for the guy, but he seems to have sold an awful lot of his books.

Another Meditative Thought

Victor Davis Hanson on "multiculturalism":

I was getting frustrated with this term everyone used: "multicultural." The very affluent, mostly white, liberal people who use it don't actually want the police in their neighborhood to have the culture of Mexican officers. They don't want to be treated with the same medical protocols that prevail in China. They don't want their daughters to have clitorectomies as in Sudan. So what do they mean with this idea of a salad bowl of culture?

What they really mean is they want a core culture that is Western, enhanced by exotica on the periphery, such as fashion, food, literature, and movies. That's a very different concept from multiculturalism. What we have to agree on is one culture, one language, one notion of what the law is, respect for private property, faith in democracy, capitalism, a transparent society, free speech. And those things are pretty much confined to those countries that are Western or Western-inspired.

Meditative Thought of the Day

Here at Ten Fingers 6 Strings, we are concerned about the mental and spiritual well being of our readers intelligent, non-verbal, thought recipients. So, I bring you a thought of the day to meditate on from editorialist intelligent, non-verbal, thought giver, George Will:

Vast numbers of credentialed -- that is not a synonym for "competent" -- members of the "caring professions" have a professional stake in the myth that most people are too fragile to cope with life's vicissitudes and traumas without professional help. Consider what Sommers and Satel call "the commodification of grief" by the "grief industry" -- professional grief "counselors" with "degrieving" techniques. Such "grief gurus" are "ventilationists": They assume that everyone should grieve the same way -- by venting feelings sometimes elicited by persons who have paid $1,795 for a five-day course in grief counseling.

The "caregiving" professions, which postulate the minimal competence of most people to cope with life unassisted, are, of course, liberal, and politics can color their diagnoses. Remember the theory that because Vietnam was supposedly an unjust war, it would produce an epidemic of "post-traumatic stress disorders." So a study released in 1990 claimed that half of Vietnam veterans suffered from some PTSD -- even though only 15 percent of Vietnam veterans had served in combat units. To ventilationists -- after a flood damaged books at the Boston Public Library, counselors arrived to help librarians cope with their grief -- a failure to manifest grief is construed as alarming evidence of grief repressed, and perhaps a precursor of "delayed onset" PTSD.

Predictably, Sept. 11, 2001, became another excuse for regarding healthy human reactions as pathological. Did terrorist attacks make you angry and nervous? Must be PTSD. And Sept. 11 gave rise to "diagnostic mission creep" as the idea of "trauma" was expanded to include watching a disaster on television. Sommers and Satel's book is a summons to the sensible worry that national enfeeblement must result when therapism replaces the virtues on which the republic was founded -- stoicism, self-reliance and courage.

No mention of how these "grief councelors" helped to "de-grieve" those who voted against Bush in the last election. Although, I did hear that some these grief barers would get together and throw handkerchiefs at one another while yelling, "Hilter!"

Via Dave from Garfield Ridge.

"What's The Matter...Chicken?"

I'll tell you "what's the matter," Kyle's chicken recipe turned out like this:

Apparently I'm not very good at following directions.

Baseball Musings

Being a Mets fan has a particular, bi-polar torture associated with it, which is a blend of the horrible and the amazing. I became a Mets fan when I was a little runt in the 80's, so my initial impression of the team was akin to marrying the prom queen; young and beautiful with unlimited potential, and people even mentioned the word "dynasty" in thinking of their future.

However, someone forgot to tell me that the Mets of the 80's were like the plot of movies from the 80's: white-trash girl at the bottom gets make-over, becomes super-slammin' hot and wins the heart of the shallow, but somewhat dense good-looking guy and they live happily ever after. Or do they? The sequel to this movie was left on the cutting room floor, where they would have portrayed the prom queen's fading makeover, as the somewhat dense by good-looking guy, who ended up married to here, realizes he has to spend the rest of his life with white-trash.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to compare my pain with the absolute misery of say, Cubs fans, who haven't even been able to garner so much as a phone number for the past 90 years. But there is a special pain that sees great potential in their lovable losers becoming somebody, only to have to accept them as lovable losers again.

So, it always warms my heart that my favorite team to this day holds the record for incompetence. The 1962 Mets compiled a record-setting 120 losses in their first year as a franchise while donning the combination blue and orange uniforms--which was a tribute to New York's two previous greats, the Dodgers and the Giants. During this period of futility, legendary manager Casey Stengel had a way of putting it all in perspective. Three of my favorite stories are as follows:

• Marvelous Marv Throneberry electrified the crowd with a triple, but was called out when he missed first base. Stengel went out to argue and the umpire tells him, "Don't bother. He missed first, too." And Casey said, "Well, I know he didn't miss third. He's standing on it."
  

• During batting practice, Casey Stengel provided a few tips on assesing talent, "See that fella over there? He's twenty years old. In ten years, he's got a chance to be a star. Now see that fella over there, he's twenty years old too. In ten years, he's got a chance to be thirty."
  

• Demonstrating the effects of courting on the play of a baseball player, Casey said, "Being with a woman all night never hurt no professional baseball player. It's staying up all night looking for a woman that does him in."

Just seven years later, the Mets would go from the "Amazing Mess" to the "Miracle Mets" by winning the World Series. Unfortunately, Casey wasn't the manager anymore, yet I doubt that he would have provided such colorful analysis about a Mets team that was actually capable of winning.

Making Music is Better Than Blogging

Cool! Are you using Protools on your mini-Mac?

To the other three TF6S.com readers, here is a taste of what Ian might be doing on the above site.

This summer, I have to figure out how to get my crap tunes on this blog in an efficient way without losing too much sound quality. I promise it will contain lots of passages where I play really high on the tiny string like, "meeledy, meeledy, meeledy, meeledy, meeledy, meeledy, meeledy, meeeeeeeeee!"

Justin King Review

Last Friday night we saw Justin King and his band play at the Red Devil Lounge in San Francisco (about a 15 minute walk from my flat), and it was everything that I imagined it to be and then some. King opened for another band (who was crap) that night. He started off with an improvised signature version of "Taps" before he and his band kicked in with "Beauty Bar."

I brought a few friends, who had never seen or heard of him before, and all of them stood with their mouths open. However, what makes him an outstanding musician is his ability to use his incredible technique to make his band better. It also helps that he has the voice of an angel too. As I looked around the room, most people, including those that came with me, were tapping their feet and bobbing their heads. This was a great sign as I don't think most of the people there even knew who he was.

About three songs in, he ripped into the song "Postcard." I was interested to see how he would put this off, since in the studio version he is doing a tastefully arpeggiated tapping sequence during the chorus while singing a melody in harmony with the other guitar player. I almost threw my bottle of Sierra Nevada at him as he not only pulled it off, but did so with a vocal harmony so tight it shook the bottles of booze behind the bar.

Additionally, Justin and his band demonstrated mastery of the subtleties that make a good band a great band. They had complete control over everything that they were playing. For example, several times they would play "dileundo," meaning "growing softer, dying away" only to transition by building into a "tonante," or thunderous, crescendo within a few bars without losing a step.

This is a rare skill as virtuoso guitar players often expend so much energy playing unbelievable guitar, yet can be very lazy in connecting with and making their bands shine. In Justin's case, he has an unbelievably talented band behind him and he makes them even better by complimenting them through rhythm, harmony and, when the time is right, sick guitar playing.

They played a bunch of new songs, which Justin told me after the show, would be on his forthcoming album in a month of two. I'm eagerly anticipating this and hope that these guys can really gain a solid following. They are way too good to be opening for stinky bands, but it may be indictative of the state of music today that they haven't garnered that much attention.

Advice to Justin and Co: Perseverance guys, perseverance. You'll eventually climb to the top of this pile if you can keep playing and get your album out there.

Everyone else: here's a link to a free download, authorized by Justin, of "Something About Angels."

UPDATE: Aha! A convert!

Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour

Tonight the Banff Mountain Film Festival is playing in San Francisco.

This is one of the highlights of the year for me. There will be four hours worth of films ranging from 10-15 minute shorts, to 90-minute features. They range from social/political movies, to food for adrenaline junkies. Naturally, I go both ways.

...on this one.

One of my favorite films was shown in 2002 called Escape over the Himalayas — Tibet’s Children on Their Journey into Exile. This was a documentary of several mountain "smugglers" who were paid by Tibetains to smuggle their children into exile in Nepal. The Chinese occupation has been determined to destroy Tibetan culture and assymilate them by forcing illiteracy on their children. If they can't read or write, they can't pass on their ways to future generations.

This movie shows step-by-step how three men lead and carried a group of Tibetan children over 20,000 ft passes into Nepal, where they will join a community of Tibetan exiles that will educate them in their traditional ways. These routes are extremely dangerous even for expert mountaineers, and they must successfully climb and descend without being detected. It is a story of great courage, cunning, determination and resolve. On one end, the human spirit is portrayed as a horrible, oppressing ogre, but as one carried from the beginning of the film to the end, the human spirit gains hope through this intrepid journey. Unlike Faust, who had to descend into the pit of hell for his salvation, our protagonists must ascend and conquer the highest points on earth to gain their freedom.

It's a must see.

Also, there was a cool movie of a guy that base-jumped off the Eiger with a bat suit.

Full review this weekend. I promise this time.

Stupid Sox Fans

I'm officially finished with Boston fans. At first I was glad that they won their silly little World Series, but their fans have offically jumped the shark.

However, I have David Ortiz on my fantasy team, so he can continue to tear the cover off the ball with impunity.

Ugh

Work demands are very high this week, so light posting. However, I will get in trips to the shooting range and the climbing wall this week, so I'll have some comments later. Oh yeah, and I'll have a detailed review for the Justin King show. But, in summary: it was so good that I was compelled to go home and cut my fingers off. From now on this site will be called, "Two Knubs, 6 Strings."

In the meantime, go read Michelle's post for a general feeling that I share about recent blog content.

I'd trade back one Steven den Beste for 14,000,000 "other bloggers."

By the way, go congratulate Anthony on his new job. Good work brutha, I'm proud of ya...

...And Another Thing

Ian is back...and his metaphysically-minded persona is making me run for that soft-copy of Exodus I got from that sweet, old guy wearing a white, short-sleeve shirt with black tie and a mesh hat standing on the corner.

Welcome back "guys".

The Summer is Going to be "Big-Time"

The staff at Ten Fingers, 6 Strings believes that I need to ramp up my output as we hit spring, so I've decided that in addition to my normal posting, I will be posting about "outdoors" subjects. I plan to talk about the following:

Britain Angry with "Heavy-Handed" American Tactics

Just as in this country in November, election politics are taking over discussion about the Iraq war in Britain. The House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee released a report blaming the "slow pace" of rebuilding Iraq on the Americans:

U.S. troops in Iraq are provoking civilians and hampering rebuilding with an excessive use of force, British lawmakers said in a report Tuesday.

The House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee also reported that the slow pace of reconstruction had fueled the insurgency in Iraq and suggested that the country had replaced Afghanistan as a training ground for terrorists.

"Excessive use by the U.S. forces of overwhelming firepower has also been counterproductive, provoking antagonism toward the coalition among ordinary Iraqis," the report said, echoing the concerns of British officials.

Some have complained that the U.S. military is too heavy-handed in Iraq, compared with British soldiers, who often patrol on foot and in berets instead of helmets in an effort to win the trust of local Iraqis.

Hmmm, a very nice wrong direction-logical fallacy that has cause and effect reversed. The members of this committee have come to the conclusion that because the Americans patrol in areas where most of the violence occurs, it is because they do so in such an aggressive manner that it just provokes the Pavlovian Dogs to fight. Or, the insurgents wouldn't dare to fire upon American soldiers if they were wearing berets instead of helmets. Who knew the insurgents were such fashion Nazis?

Instead, my counter-argument is thus: Americans are patrolling predominantly Sunni areas with helmets, tanks and big guns because there are some pretty sinister bastards there that already had the intention of trying to kill Coalition soldiers--American or British. When they uncovered the hostage slaughterhouses in Fallujah, they didn't find helmets on the bodies of people that were "provoking" them. I would speculate that the common denominator amoung the victims were that they were all unarmed and vulnerable at the time of their capture. So much for provocation.

This report seems to be a propaganda tool for the upcoming election in Britain. The House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee is comprised of the following members:

Member - Party
Donald Anderson (Chairman)- Labour
David Chidgey - Liberal Democrats
Fabian Hamilton - Labour
Eric Illsley - Labour
Andrew Mackay - Conservative
Andrew Mackinlay - Labour
John Maples - Conservative
Bill Olner - Labour
Greg Pope - Labour
Sir John Stanley - Conservative
Gisela Stuart - Labour

Seven of the eleven members are part of Labour party, who backed the war in Iraq, which has been increasingly unpopular in Britain. The predominantly Labour-comprised-committee did not condemn the decision to go to war, however they are trying to place the post-war problems squarely on the shoulders of the United States with the hopes that anti-Iraq war voters shift their vitriol from them to Uncle Sam. It's a very effective tactic that could secure some votes in the upcoming election; possibly too effective. If this meme sticks, it could be pretty difficult to get British support for any further engagements with the United States that may been in Britain's best interests.

Justin King - Red Devil Lounge: Friday Night

I just bought tickets to see the most dynamic, creative and inspiring guitar player I have seen in years. Justin King will be playing at the Red Devil Lounge in San Francisco Friday night and tickets are $8 advance-$10 at the door. Anyone who wants to go, just let me know.

Go to Justin's website and click on videos.

On second thought, don't do it. It's just a bunch of disgustingly sick guitar work unlike anything you have ever seen in your life. You may experience bouts of confusion, hyperventilation and total bewilderment.

You'd be better off listening to something safe, like Cold Play or Sting.

UPDATE: If your tastes are a little more yuppie-bohemian, go to this show.

Pulitzer Celebrates Murderers

BlackFive lements about the selection of AP photographers receiving the Pulitzer Prize for glorifying insurgents terrorizing Iraq during the year.

Go see the picture that he feels is far more worthy of the Pulitzer.

Wretchard comments on the selection of these dubious photographs as well:

Since news by definition shows the truth one would expect the insurgency so lovingly depicted in these AP photos to have triumphed. But since that never happened and prospects grow dimmer by the day, the Pulitzer should be awarded instead for Poetry, since according to the Greeks history is reserved for things as they are but poetry may deal with things as they should be.

The award of the Pulitzer to this disgusting series of photographs should be welcomed by posterity. Fifty years hence people can look back at the work of people who called themselves journalists and judge.

Fifty years hence I hope history shows that this was the beginning of the end for the Left. Most of us are still in shock that our own citizens could possibly see terrorist attacks against innocent Americans as a positive thing. The defense of their moral depravity has led them to an irreversable pact with the devil where, just as in apocalyptic eschatology, their ideas, which are utterly incompatible with true liberal values, will be thrown into the fire.

Random Thoughts

Ok, I made it. Here are some random thoughts on a Monday night:

GREAT national championship game tonight! Congratulations to Roy Williams and UNC for wrapping up a tremendous season. I had mixed feeling watching the game as Sean May, son the Indiana legand Scott May, completely tore apart Illinois. Imagining Sean doing what he did tonight in an Indiana uniform made me want to jump up and down, throwing beer on the blonde girl next to me while cursing his name. I refrained from hysterics, but I did manage to pour beer all over the girl sitting next to me. Wasn't pretty...

The win for UNC is great for the universe if only for the fact that Duke fans get to cry and whine swallow heaping bowlfuls of dirt for the rest of the year.

Enough basketball...

Ace if you quit (I don't think you will) I will have to send some of my friends who have no problem with administering some loose shit on you. Do you remember what happened to Marcellus Wallace in "Pulp Fiction"?

Ok, the real reason I am so pissed is because you are one of only six people who have actually bothered to link to this site; I'll lose 17% of my links and 30% of my traffic. C'mon man, think of the little people...when I mean little, I mean....we'll never mind.

Save Ferris Ace!

Tonight

I'll be back later tonight. I've been accosted by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, who have become privy to some pictures I snapped of them smearing peanut butter on themselves while worshipping the devil.

It could get ugly.

See you tonight.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

The end of March always leaves me with a little sadness as the college basketball season comes to an end, but my melancholy is quickly replaced by the smell of cut grass, mustard, peanuts and beer. Spring training is winding down as teams report to their home cities and the Boys of Summer will take the field and slug it out 162 times from Tuesday thru October. Despite baseball's recent bloody nose, there are many, many reasons to sit back and enjoy what this season has to offer.

Baseball began its hold on me at the age of 5 when I was signed by the Murrell's Inlet Pirates t-ball team. I'd like to believe that our team's sponsor Drunken Jacks, who would provide me with a symbol for my adult life, saw potential in my lanky arms, gazel-like strides and my ability to move right-to-left with the fluidity of Andrew Sullivan. However, in reality it had more to do with the fact that I was one of only five kids on the team that didn't spend half the game digging in the dirt.

Donning #12, I tore up the Southern League in most non-statistical categories and I was the only boy on the team without a mullet. Unfortunately, these times would be short-lived as I was traded to the Northeastern League (Northern New Jersey) due to a uniform violation (appearantly I played an entire game with my zipper down).

That year, my father took me to take me to my first major league baseball game at the house that Ruth built--Yankee Stadium. Later in life as a diehard Mets fan I grew to loathe the Yankees, however at that time I was in complete awe as we sat down amongst the 40,000-plus New York faithful to watch the Yanks beat the Red Sox 6-5.

The highlight of the game occurred when Ricky Henderson jumped over the wall to rob Dwight Evans of a homerun. I didn't think such things were possible, so naturally I concurred with the overweight New Yorker behind me when he said, "I can't @#$&* believe that he @#*&# caught that #@&%^$ ball!!!" I turned around and nodded in agreement.

Later in the game, that same gentlemen who was apparently upset with Don Mattingly for striking out, yelled, "Don, you dirty mother-@&^@#$ rat! Take your dumb, ugly @#$ outta here and @#(&$ walk into oncoming @#^$$% traffic!" This man was an infinite source of material that I could recycle for months on the bus ride to school.

(Mom, Dad, if you are reading this, skip to the end) Fastforwarding to high school, my friends and I would cut school to go to the Vet for Phillies day games. The Vet wasn't exactly known for its atmosphere; instead of smelling cut grass, mustard, peanuts and beer, there was an aroma of vomit, urine and cheeze wiz soaked into the astroturf. We used to think that Lenny Dysktra wizzed in centerfield between innings to keep the rats from biting at his heels.

Yet, the most colorful part of going to Phillies games was not their delightful stadium, but their ever-so-charming fans. In a effort to make Yankees fans blush, while in the process ensuring that no child under the age 12 would ever be able to attend a game, I witnessed countless profanity-laced, verbal encounters that usually ended in fist-fights. One game featured a full riot as two rival high schools battled over who got to eat John Kruk's left-over, chew-tabacco.

Another incident took place on a stormy Saturday game that cleared out most all but a few as the Phillies were manhandling the Expos 6-1 in the 6th inning. The constant drizzle and entrance of Bobby Munoz to relieve Curt Schilling set the scene for one of my favorite Philly fan moments ever. Some very drunk man put his own spin on a popular Philadelphia cheer/heckle that went, "Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum -- (enter players name here) is a freakin' bum." A perfect storm converged as Bobby Munoz proceeded to give up 7 earned runs. As the 400 remaining fans booed until they were blue in the face, this guys stood up, wearing a black trashbag for a pancho with a full beer in each hand and yelled, "Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum! *hiccup* Bobby Munoz is a *hic* F----n' a--hole!"

So, baseball officially starts in two days and I can hardly contain myself.

Get Out of Here and Go Read Beautiful Atrocities

I've been too busy to post and, unlike Mr. Green, am unable to function with this much bourbon in my system. However, please, please, please go read Jeff's latest post on the everlasting drama that is Libya. It looks as if our tough-guy, Mr. Gaddafi, is going to stand up to a bunch of mean and tough Bulgarian nurses.