Wrath of the Tyrant

Happy War on Christmas

2009-12-25T08:27:08Z

Christmas music has got to be my least favorite thing about the holidays. It's infectious and tedious. No matter how many new renditions I hear of the same fucking carols, it still reminds me of a musical version of Groundhog Day. I'm at a complete loss as to how these songs are supposed to encourage us to have a merrier Christmas. They're not even good songs to begin with. I feel like David Sedaris in Guantanamo.

Food makes me merrier for Christmas. Eating the same great food every year does not get old, or become a parody of itself. Good food is enough to bring families together, and not the other way around (think about it-- would Christmas bring any family together if it didn't have food? The only time people celebrate during Ramadan is when they break their fast). Tonight we had lasagna, then had cheesecake. And then, once we'd stuffed ourselves, we watched Julie and Julia. While I sat there on the couch with my girlfriend in my arm, getting heartburn from the tomatoes and the farts from the cheese, I only had one thought: If Amy Adams was fat in Julie and Julia, then we're in a lot of trouble.

Jesus Christ

2009-12-17T07:22:45Z

Put on your yarmulke
Here comes Chanukah
So much funukah
To celebrate Chanukah
Chanukah is the festival of lights
Instead of one day of presents, we have eight crazy nights

When you feel like the only kid in town without a Christmas tree
Here's a list of people who are Jewish just like you and me
David Lee Roth lights the menorah
So do James Caan, Kirk Douglas, and the late Dinah Shore-ah

Guess who eats together at the Carnegie Deli
Bowser from Sha Na Na and Arthur Fonzerelli
Paul Newman's half Jewish, Goldie Hawn's half too
Put them together, what a fine lookin' Jew

You don't need "Deck The Halls" or "Jingle Bell Rock"
'Cause you can spin a dreidel with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock- both Jewish

Put on your yarmulke
It's time for Chanukah
The owner of the Seattle Supersonicahs
Celebrates Chanukah

O.J. Simpson, not a Jew
But guess who is? Hall of famer Rod Carew- he converted
We got Ann Landers and her sister Dear Abby
Harrison Ford's a quarter Jewish- not too shabby

Some people think that Ebenezer Scrooge is
Well he's not, but guess who is
All three Stooges
So many Jews are in showbiz
Tom Cruise isn't, but I heard his agent is

Tell your friend Veronica
It's time to celebrate Chanukah
I hope I get a harmonicah
Oh this lovely, lovely Chanukah
So drink your gin and tonicah
And smoke your marijuanikah
If you really, really wannakah
Have a happy, happy, happy, happy Chanukah
Happy Chanukah

Asleep in Samsara

2009-12-11T06:43:12Z

Today at lunch I sat at the bar with one of the brewers. We were dumbly transfixed with ESPN, droning on about our dear Mr. Woods, playing the same stupid clips of him, his wife, his kid, his car. "God, she was a supermodel, man." A comment like that seemed to be so self evident that it only could have been made to break the silence, and chip-in for some mandatory lunchtime banter. "What. The hell. Was he thinking?" I chuckled, relating the story that when he blogged his apology "I have let my family down and I regret those transgressions with all of my heart" there was a marked rise in the googling of the word 'transgression.' There was another silence, and I chuckled again, thinking that maybe his apology didn't seem all that heartfelt if he was using language that no one understood. A minute later I said, "You know that in his car, the police had found a book. It was an intro to physics book, written for non-scientists." I had not only the other brewer's attention, but also the bartender's. They were waiting to hear my conspiracy theory. But I didn't say anything because I didn't like the sound of calling his supermodel wife a bimbo who wasn't fulfulling his intellectual needs. I really didn't like explaining away infedility as something so cut and dry.

"I doubt there are many supermodel physics enthusiasts in the world," said the brewer, finishing my thought, sipping his beer. I sat there bothered that such astounding human beings could fail so completely in something so important. They kept repeating on TV that he's just an ordinary guy like you and me. Jesus Christ, I wonder if he's so ordinary and he failed, what are my chances at success? I let that miserable thought spin in my head for a moment, until I had a more cheerful one: I wonder if his wife was one of the people googling 'transgression.'

Frank the Goat the Tyrant

2009-12-10T04:24:28Z

I’d inadvertently created an animal rights conversation this afternoon, while taking a break between bottling sessions. One of our more food oriented brewers was talking about the savagery with which the market fish people kill lobsters—“they cut them right in half, one chop!” I chimed in that it was probably more humane to do it that way than to boil them alive. All of a sudden everyone in the office turned and looked at me with cocked eyebrows. “But they’re just bugs” said another. They’re crustaceans, I argued, They’re nothing like bugs. I could’ve convinced the Senate to pass a health care bill easier. I was tempted to get into the cracked philosophy that people carry believe some animals are worth more than others. No one is interested in examining why they hold these theories (is it because some animals are bigger? Do mosquitoes in Washington mean less than mosquitoes in Michigan? Is there an exchange rate?). Perhaps those who have examined these theories have taken them to their logical ends, as satire or farce. Maybe we should not call the lobster a bug, or a crustacean, but an infidel.

I didn’t say any of this because I didn’t want to look like a loon in front of my coworkers, and none of them look like they’d read Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, or any other poetry, and didn’t care much for common place philosophy. I also didn’t have it much formulated in my head, so it would’ve spilled out as an emotional diatribe. And looking like a bleeding heart doesn’t help forward my argument at all.

I’m realizing that you can’t force someone to evolve. Certainly not without ample amounts of dynamite. Social evolution requires social consciousness, an open and liberal environment, and sober, questioning minds. You’ve got to be able to teach them, and I’m not a teacher. I’m a dynamiter.

East of Tyranny

2009-12-08T06:48:08Z

We've bottled the barley wine. This means everyone will be stumbling around the brewery about twice as drunk for the next few weeks, as we kill off the low fills. As reserved as I tend to be about my brewery's beer, I think this barley wine is the best fuckin stuff in the Northwest. It's a get-shit-done barley wine, with strong moral values and a firm handshake. But it also knows how to party, with an amazing bouquet of floral, fruity, bitter and succulent hops. It takes the podium with a sultry African American voice and an iron grip on the english language. The second sip takes you to places the first sip would not dare. The third sip would tempt the devil. It is rumored that bin Ladin is hiding somewhere in the fourth. If you play Thriller backwards you can hear Michael Jackson guzzling this barley wine. It ushers in a bull market. Mulder never could accept that Scully was actually implanted with a bottle of barley wine. This barely wine could be the answer to the ultimate question, as well as the neurotic retort to the number 42. It's so good even Richard Dawkins is beginning to have doubts. Who's nailin' Pailin? I think you know.

Abstinence may make the heart grow fonder. But testicles only depreciate in value

2009-12-02T05:31:44Z

The thanksgiving weekend was relaxing and happy. It sounds like most people enjoyed their time off, away from work, school and toil. Maybe I've just upgraded my circle of friends, but it seems that this year people appreciated being with their friends and family much more.

I paid a visit to Herr Allergist this past week. I'll be off booze and coffee for the next month or so, and bring back one at a time. In the meantime I've been trying to stuff the existential hole with whatever other kinds of jollies I can get my hands on. Meditation is key. Which means that psyco-actives are fewer (and well timed). It also means no gange. But any health benefits I may gain from this pseudo-clense go down the drain, because I've discovered my new best friend, the hooka. I smoked my brains out (and then smoked them back in) while reading all Saturday and Sunday. Tabbacco may be bad for your lungs, but it's fucking great for mine!

I finished Stieg Larsson's Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Which was sort of like reading about the Addams Family for about 80% of the book. Then it was the Manson Family for the last 20%. Fucking Swedes. Also got through Man's Search For Meaning, which was concise and easy philosophy. It was the most upbeat book I've read about Auschwitz. Now it's Memnoch the Devil, which is appropriate fluff. I figure if I'm gonna read about vampires, they're gonna be morally bankrupt homosexual art critic vampires, and not those stupid dry-humping Mormon vampires.

Five Years with No Exit Strategy

2009-11-26T06:00:57Z

First off, read this. It's moderately humorous, but eventually one is struck with the realization that someone put in an enormous amount of time to list off all their adversaries in the world. I'm impressed. Ex:

Flavor Flav, a.k.a. William Jonathan Drayton, Jr. (born March 16, 1959) is an American rapper, classically trained pianist, reality television star, hype man, member of the seminal hip-hop group Public Enemy, and a dick.

And it goes on like this. One must also note the precise omission of any former or current commander-in-chief, or any certain hairy-faced archvillian.

I'm compiling my best of 2009 music list. There's a lot of bad music out there. But there are gems.

I saw Saul Williams a couple weeks ago. He performed in front of crowd that should have been a thousand people, but was only a hundred. He dressed up, and came in fancy as Hell, using all his badassed theater presence to rock us. Then, two songs in, he stopped and irrately said, "Jesus! I thought this was Seattle!" And it breaks your heart. No one told Saul Williams that Capitol Hill is filled with lifeless, apathetic hipster rejects. No one told Saul that Seattle is officially fucking dead as of November 30, 1999, give or take five years. Not much life left here. And no one told the Seattlites going to his show that he was about magical, musical, confrontational theater- poetry that demands individuality and expression. "Side effects may include simply being who you are." So we were both guilty parties-- although I would imagine that if you paid money to see Saul Williams, you'd be at least marginally partial to acting enthused at his show. Instead, it was a group of people with crossed arms, pretending to watch television, while me and my buddy were jumping up and down, screaming every word of his poetry. Which was certainly made more intense by the mushrooms.

And finally, five years ago today, this little blog was born. It has served as my artistic outlet when I would've otherwise exploded. I hope you can all make it to the party.

Every Good Boy Deserves Tyranny

2009-11-17T04:52:35Z

I saw Mudhoney on Friday with a best friend from high school. We'd met as freshmen in math class, but realized we were great friends once we both found our selves in the mosh pit together, beating the tar out of each other. Male bonding ritual. God, that was 11 years ago. So it was epic and wonderful and significant and still rocking to see Mudhoney yet again. Everyone should have hometown heroes that stay with them through their formative years. Who else would I blame all my problems on?

Highlights included almost slamming into Bruce Pavitt-- former CEO of Subpop. "Dude, he's not the Chief any more, but can probably still have you killed." Also seeing Kim Thayil-- "Dude oh my God! It's Kim Thayil! Soundgarden reunion!" I asked if anyone else from Soundgarden was seen there. "No, of course not, but it only takes one Soundgarden member to have a reunion."

11/13/09 Neumo's. Seattle, WA (100 min)
Attendance: 500
Supported By: Brothers of the Sonic Cloth, Unnatural Helpers
Set: The Money Will Roll..., I'm Now, The Lucky Ones, Next Time, Inside Out, You Got it, Suck You Dry, Oblivion, Blinding Sun, Inside Job, What Moves the Heart?, Sweet Young Thing, Let it Slide, Judgment Rage..., Good Enough, Touch Me I'm Sick, F.D.K., This Gift, Hard-on for War, When Tomorrow Hits/In 'N' Out of Grace, Hate the Police
Encore: Into the Drink, Who You Drivin' Now?, Here Comes Sickness, The Open Mind, Tales of Terror, Fix Me
Notes: This was a book release party for Michael Lavine's Grunge. Levine shot the cover photo for the Mudhoney record, among others. When they come out, Guy needs a second, so Mark promotes Lavine's book, adding that it's strange to have a book full of people he knows. They then nail the "no Mark guitar" songs to start the show off on a high note. At the end of the main set, Mark again promotes "Mike's book of great photos...funny and sad photos...the sad ones are mostly band photos. Bands are sad...but not tonight! We had the Unnatural Helpers (Steve: Not sad.), we had Brothers of the Sonic Cloth (Not sad!), and we had Mudhoney (Not Sad!!)." Then someone from the crowd shouts for them to "Play some Dicks!" Mark and Steve quickly confirm that "Dicks are great!" and Steve talks about how he saw "a Youtube of the Dicks doing this song recently," leading the two to decide that they "don't own the song anymore." This is the longest show that Mudhoney has played, both in terms of length and number of songs.

A Well Spent Weekend

2009-11-16T05:41:20Z

As it turns out, this has been the most valuable waste of time I have ever, ever made. The blogger here is probably one of the funniest fuckers out on the vasty nets. I had a terrible time keeping my laughter down while my girlfriend tried to study. One day I'll be on this site.

Water found on moon

2009-11-14T09:49:04Z

Shortly after NASA reported their findings to journalists, the Obama administration released a statement that the US would be officially resuming it’s space program in ultimate hopes of founding colonies on the moon. This statement was not made without protest, however. The President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, stated that it would not tolerate such imperialistic tyranny, and would develop a competing space program—one with “considerably better taste in shoes and sunglasses than their infidel counterparts.” Shortly thereafter, Israeli settlements in the West Bank declared their next expansion would be into space, citing numerous biblical passages claiming that the moon also qualifies as “the holy land.” Jordan, Egypt, Libya, Syria and Saudi Arabia balked at such claims. Amongst the many dialects of Arabic, it was difficult to discern whether these nationals were raising their index fingers to make a point, or were trying to point out the satellite moon in question. India made a statement that it was planning to send the most poverty striken of its country as a test colony, approximately 1 billion people. Pakistan would have issued the press release to threaten to bomb the billion-person Indian colony, but there was a bloody coup before the message could be issued. Many African nations conjectured whether there could be any diamonds to be found. Germany claimed research already underway to create a better, more affordable moon. The Spanish couldn’t be bothered for commentary because they were fast asleep in the middle of the day. France was skeptical of the moon water’s cooking ability, but agreed to set a colony up if someone would do all the work for them. The Vatican, reticent as usual, feared impending sacrilege. North Korea made quite a racket, but we didn’t care what they had to say. China was unavailable for comment, although when contacted on the phone, several clanking and whirring sounds were audible. The Mexican government stalled on the phone with a number of excuses, before it became generally known that they were creating cover for millions of their citizens to immigrate en masse to the newly coveted territory to set up space-bodegas, sell space-burritos and play space-mariachi at all hours of the space-morning.

Tear down the wall

2009-11-10T03:46:23Z

When life gives you lemons, make lemon pie

2009-11-09T06:38:45Z

I just heard the greatest LJ question-- What is the name of your Autobiography?

Mine would be some thing obnoxious like Tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip peri pembo
OR
How I stopped worrying and learned to love the Tyrant.

SILENCE! Tyrants are speaking!

2009-11-04T06:41:06Z

I've been reading Richard Rodriguez' Days of Obligation. And, once I get home, set that down and read the much less educated Automatic Millionaire, written by an bagel toaster. It is nice to be able to cut the heady, scathing cultural observations with something moderately useful and a lot lighter. Of course, the chief advantage to this two-book approach is that I look much smarter at work for reading Rodriguez than Limited-use Household Appliance. And reading gay Latino-American literature is infinitely more to my advantage than reading a motivational finance book designed to make me save, buy more of his shit, and not go to Starbucks.

I finished Death With Interuptions. Saramago. There were definitely some things missing in the translation. Like, say, my comprehension. Fun little read-- I'll add it to the list of books that I would have gained a whole lot more out of if I'd read it in class, with a professor to hold my hand. Who knows, I may still have an Ah-Ha moment about it. They rarely give the Nobel Prize in Literature to those authors who are prized on their artless readability.

Next up is some Eco, maybe some Alexie... I probably should actually sit down and read Jared Diamond's Collapse before I continue talking about it in social occasions as if I have.

So far from God, so close to the US

2009-11-01T02:12:46Z

Snoutbreak

2009-10-30T03:24:12Z

I opted to take the day off from work. I’ve never had sick time before, so I decided to try it out. So far, so good. I’m not really all that sick, but definitely not totally well. There’s a brewer at work who’s on immunosuppressants, so we’ve been encouraged to stay home if we’re even feeling slightly off. And when it comes to taking time off, I’m a quick study.

Did you know that more than 1,000 people have died in the US from swine flu already? I asked my scientist girlfriend that last night, and quickly she asked how many people in the US normally die of the flu each year. I asked wiki, and wiki asked CDC, and CDC told wiki to tell me that more than 200,000 ‘mericans are annually hospitalized for flu or flu-like symptoms, and 36,000 die. Source. I know we’re not in flu season yet, but I’m wondering if swine flu is any more deadly than normal annual strains of the flu, or is merely more pervasive? During the original Mexican outbreak, an LJ friend had posted a link to a very informative site on the swine flu, and how concerned people should be. Source. If you haven’t yet contracted or died of swine flu, I’d like to hear your opinions. If you have, please don’t talk to me because I don’t want your germs.

First they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. Then you win

2009-10-28T04:54:35Z

I just got done doing some phone calling for the Approve Referendum 71 campaign. I'd had this strange Ah-Ha moment, listening to Man in the Mirror at work, suddenly realizing that if I really supported the campaign, I probably should get off my ass and do something about it. And it was completely invigorating.

Some brief background for those Washington registered voters not familiar-- Ref 71 is to expand domestic partnership laws for lesbian and gays in committed relationships, as well as senior citizen domestic partners. It provides for extended sick leave if your partner is sick or in the hospital, grants pension rights to partners of teachers and public employees, death benefits for partners and non-biological children of firefighters or police officers-- in short, approving Ref 71 grants the rights of marriage to registered domestic partners in Washington, without the title of Married.

This is an enormous civil rights issue for our state, and the progress of the last 20 years is at stake. Polls show us leading at 54% Approve. That's a slim win, if everyone votes. And tons of people aren't voting. They don't know about Ref 71, are pooped for the 2008 elections, or just don't care.

If you are a registered Washington voter, please do not let this slip by. Tell your family and friends that ballots need to be in the mailbox by Nov. 3rd-- that's next Tuesday. Encourage everyone you can to vote on this issue. Thank you.

Yes, I listen to Michael Jackson at work.

Did someone call for a tyrant?

2009-10-21T03:59:32Z

I was thinking of the scariest movie we could watch for Halloween. The obvious takes are Exorcist, Blair Witch of The Descent. But let's face it-- they're all a little second rate after you know what's going to happen. Still scary, but not enough to, say, cry for your mother. There's only one movie that will permanently scare you shitless, and if you're dumb enough to ever watch it again, it may scare people around you shitless by proxy. It is Arachnophobia. Can you believe that that movie was advertised as a action-comedy?? Jeff Daniels?? So fucking creepy. Maybe I'll psyche myself up and watch it, but probably I'll just wuss out and repeat "Bloody Mary" while I stare in the bathroom mirror.

Here's an interesting one. It's about Big Beni trying to start a religious war. Now, I'm all for more Catholics in the world. And the Church of England is going to have to come back into the fold sometime before Doomsday. But the bait to luring the English, en masse, back into the Church is so unfortunate-- the lack of gay and female priests.

Damnit Jim

2009-10-18T06:17:38Z

Watched the latest Star Trek installment, finally. It was liking watching a corpse being pulsed with an AED, convulse with life-like behavior, and go back to being as dead as it was before JJ Abrams got his hands on the corpse. Goddamnit Abrams, fucking assuring us that the Trek is indeed dead. It made for a great action flick, with explosions and time-travel and bestiality, but it sure wasn't Star Trek. I think the days of watching Captains Picard, Sisko, Jayneway and Shatner are gone because America lost it's taste for peaceful negotiations when the You-Know-What happened. We had a cornucopia of Star Trek series espousing in various ways that given enough time, everyone in the universe would come around to be friends with us. Even those Kilngon bullies or Romulan nihilists-- they'd all eventually get along with us, because it would be difficult to deny that we are the shit. Now it's us against the galaxy, guns blazing, don't take No for an answer. Who needs friends when you have such good looking enemies? I don't wanna sound melodramatic, but one of the casualties of the last 8 years is the certainty that everyone is able to appreciate our commonalities in spite of our differences. That's what Roddenberry was all about. It's boldly over, man.

Third World Democracy

2009-10-05T05:22:50Z

I saw Mastodon last night. They opened for Dethklok. Which is to say, one of the most progressive, intellectual, engagingly artistic metal bands of our time played an opening set for a cartoon. They played Crack the Skye in it’s entirety, with accompanied psychedelics in the background. The visuals were composed of flying stars, vintage horror films set in Hell, and the life story of Rasputin with ectoplasmic projections. The encore set was a reverse chronology, becoming less technical and more brutal, until the last song ended in violent, grinding death.

My socks, and many more articles, were thoroughly rocked. After such a ridiculously life-altering set, there was little the Cartoon Network could offer to keep us at the WaMu Theater. Not Bloodrocuted. Not Hatredcopter. Not even the Duncan Hills Coffee Jingle.

Oblivion
Divinations
Quintessence
The Czar
Ghost of Karelia
Crack the Skye
The Last Baron
Circle of the Cysquatch
Aqua Dementia
Crusher Destroyer
Where Strides the Behemoth
Unnamed New Song

City of Dis

2009-10-01T02:33:40Z

Things to squee for

2009-09-25T05:41:28Z

Ignoring drunk assholes at work. Fixing broken machines at work. Fixing my bike. Getting health insurance. Getting drunk. Getting laid. Mastodon coming to town. Mad Rad after that. Trail of Dead after that. Mother. Fucking. Wolf. Mother. Fucking.

Trade my Tyrant

2009-09-17T04:10:56Z

I got rid of my first boombox the other day. It no longer played burned CDs and it regularly skipped for minorly scratched ones. As I junked it, I had waves of musical flashbacks, realizing that this thing had been there for every pivotol moment of my growing up, with the exception of birth. I'd made my first tapes on it and played my first CDs-- it was an integral figure in my life from elementary school through college. It was like losing my best friend. Of course, it didn't really have a choice in being my friend for all that time, and since I don't normally keep friends that long, it may be more accurate to call it my favorite slave. A slave that informed my understanding of the world through music. Like a charismatic C3PO.

I saw District 9, because I was told that it was an awesome movie regardless of the politics it comes with. And it certainly was. Sort of like V for Vendetta. But it kept you rapt like Star Wars. Except Star Wars didn't have exploding body parts everywhere. Maybe I'm just getting old, but that level of gore belongs in Iraq, not Hollywood.

We bottled the Entire Stout today-- it's an imperial stout aged in bourbon barrels and blended with the XXXXX Stout. This effectively makes a X^6 Stout. The beer is unbelievable-- chocolates, fruit, coffee, bourbon, roasted oats, oak and smoke. Get some.

Did someone call for a Tyrant?

2009-09-09T05:25:09Z

On his last day of work at a Birmingham sheet metal factory, a 17 year old Tony Iommi managed to lose the tips of his middle and ring finger on his right hand. In spite of that, he forged and defined the genre of heavy rock. Pretty much everyone but Elvis owes him—and they both have common roots anyway. He gave fate the stubby middle finger and changed the world in spite of it all.

He would’ve changed the galaxy had he not been such a fucking clutz.

Just add Tyranny

2009-09-07T05:28:43Z

Had my tarot read today by a shaman. Lots of prayers and spirit guides. Tarot is as creepy as it is intriguing. The ritual was heavy and tense for a half hour, before she drew the card reflective of my sense of responsibility—it was the Fool. We both burst out laughing. She’d known me pretty well back in college. She said, “Huh, it looks like you haven’t changed.” At least it wasn’t all sorts of solemn and hokey.

My girlfriend is in DC for the weekend. I anticipated that I’d fill my few free days with drug laden heavy metal, surrounded by tons of sexy vampiric women. The reality is obscure craft beer, burritos, computer games and laundry. Ah, the life of a tyrant.

Henceforth, this journal will refer to Michael Jackson simply as Saint Michael. When referring to the archangel, the addendum “Not Michael Jackson” will be attached.

Tyranny, A to Z

2009-09-06T02:01:13Z

A new hole in my boot means that I get to endure soggy foot syndrome until the new ones come in the mail. However it did give everyone in the brewery, in their mid-afternoon delirium, to chant “NINE SIZE BOOTS!” over and over. It is a long way to Tipperary.

Lately I’ve been putting on a lot of live music while bottling to keep the energy up. Up tempo, beat driven live jams lets you forget about the monotony of 500 cases of beer. It was somewhere between Jane’s Addiction’s cover of Sympathy for the Slayer’s cover of I’m Gonna Be Your Dog that I began fantasizing about what kind of dream set list I’d want from my favorite bands. I dreamed up with Tool doing Kashmir and Monster Magnet doing the Stone’s Bitch. Dragon Force doing Soundgarden’s Loud Love. White Zombie doing Nightrain (while this is technically illegal, since White Zombie is no longer in play, my sense of reason is willing to indulge my sense of imagination). Any one else?