Gettin back to my Roots

My friend Melodie wrote me the other day saying happy Hannukah. i thought that was great! there arent any jews in Barcelona (maybe theyre hiding, or maybe and more probable-y, Europeans are fucking anti-semitic and jew cultures been guillotined. anyway, i miss you (them) so im back to what brought this blog about, at least for today. Thanks melo and lD and jS.

A Toast. Mazel Tov!

Good for Gosling

Dead Man,s Bones

Dont think i care one way or another about the song, but at least it wasnt Wonderland, which is what i was sorta expecting. I think in a way i look like a darker version of him, or he reminds me of me, so i wish him/me the best, ha!

--- Vicky Cristina Barcelona --- Life is Cycling Downhill

Not totally sure what to say about this film. But thats why there are pictures of Penny JAvi and Scarlett. In fact the movie itself lives by a similar philosophy. Its all narrated by a dorkus white boy, a fairy tale voice for certain, a fairy tale film so indulgent in all things beautiful, why say all that much about the non-gorgeous? why not spread more art (it does) more beauty (it does) more of this fucking city that i have the pleasure of currently living in,(it does indeed). Its kinda Godard, kinda Woody aLlen. how? Scarlett´s character, Cristina, is a free-spirited, sexually uninhibited, blossoming artist, frolicking around Barcelona, who only knows what she "doesnt want." Still, no matter how badly Woody Allen doesnt quite want his characters satisfied, much less his audience, he fails miserably here, and we all walk away happy and horny. As for my title, pues, the only time bikes get ridden, is when theyre going downhill. ahhh,

What Community? #75: Home, where I'll be.

Making yourself at home is hella revolutionary. Lift your wings. --RWK

What Community? #74: Love it, live it.

This would be a fun thing to have. Or to give that someone special. --RWK

(NOT) Genius Marketing #43: A Merry Strange Christmas Tale

I don't know how you would market this movie anyways but I'll just say that I probably would have made a different trailer. More and more I think trailers should just be scenes from the movies, which is why this little thing below is a way better barometer and offering:

See? Go see it. It's on demand, too. --RWK

Genius Marketing #42: A View to a Kill

Cuz I been thinkin Bond recently (_QoS_ is straight bizarre), and cuz Slayo thinks nothing will ever top this one. Judging by the looks of this thing, which is pretty bizarre in its own right/s, he may be right. Or wrong. Drastically so. Then again (again), Walken wanting to destroy Silicon Valley in 1985? Grace Jones, period? Golden Gate WHAT!? --RWK
Five minutes later:
Slayo: hahaha
Walken was ahead of his time
RWK: defo
Sent at 11:14 AM on Wednesday
Slayo: also, roger moore is like 80 years old in that movie
RWK: hahahaha
like the greg oden of bond
Slayo: hahahaha

Songs #32: My Sweet Lord

Doin fam things. Then moving things. Posting may hit a halt. Or, at the least, a pause. And it may be just plain goof city, as ever, once it starts up again. --RWK

Nina Simone - My Sweet Lord (zshare)

[Chloe's shirt is cute, her tongue is cuter; I had a comfy couch.]

What Community? #73: St Tropez aint realzoz.

shut. the FUCK. yup. already. --RWK [via gldnfdlr]

What Community? #72: Allen K crouches. Design Poach #5

What: Konisberg gettin small in paints. Hey: Thanks, art.
Stolen from: Supervillain, who stole from bebe le strange, who stole from ClydeHouse.

No Capes #4: West

Design Poach #4: British bombs.

What: British women working in arms factory during World War I.
Stolen from: Life by Google

What Community? #71: Toes?

Is this as great as it is? Why am I resisting it, like, HARD? (Joke layers!) Also, I'm not pretty like them, and, well, who doesn't hate that feeling? Too many questions. All the fucking time. It's burrito time all the time. --RWK

Quick Lit Shit #10: Philosophical Investigations

I began reading it last summer in a course I thoroughly enjoyed. In our abbreviated term we only had time to cover the first 250 or so sections. Since then I've probably re-read the first 150, when I've thought to, with occasional ventures out past 250. Someday soon, after I graduate, say, I will look at it again. Or, you know, when I get to grad school, as the case may be in a few years. This is one of those things I might elect to travel with me to a deserted island -- so long as I had some paper and pen of my own. Or, perhaps, some way to mark the sides of rocks or the insides of caves. Of course, being alone on a deserted island with this book might be supremely depressing since its main goal is to a kind of therapy for our daily life in the world; how we may better remain in the everyday. It's funny, too, in its sly (dry) way.

A note: This kinda makes me barf. I've defo read more now and I think I can speak about it a lil better, too. Yuck! Still, this lil nugget was deemed (voted?) a "Super Review" on the ole fb. --RWK

Quick Lit Shit #9: The Glass Bead Game

I need to re-read this now that I may better comprehend those strands I once held tenuously apart from one another and only intuited as genius. But, as far back as then -- even then -- I knew it as one of the great things. --RWK

Design Poach #3: Everything's dirt

What: A (misguided? defo biased) guide to eating. For the record, I'm steering clear of steer and fowl and bacon-balls and (doy) varmints these daze. It feels great.
Stolen from: The incomparable, erudite and often hilarious infinite thØught

Me Encanta la Comunicacion

One thing that is so wonderful about Barcelona is the small vasos. Beer is always served in half pints, coffee in espresso cups, when ordering a bottled water unless you are clearly one foot out the door, you are given a tiny litte glass to pour your water into and sip elgantly. I love small cups. If I drank milk Im sure theyd have a small cup answer to that order as well. Small cups, small streets, small jeans, small prices, small stairwells. ¿DO I have a problem with America? No of course not. This is real good here though, real nice.

I also am so in love with the way I communicate with friends back home. gchat is digital gold, textaul sex and dexterous comedy. Tooting my horn a bit, heres an example.

I love nikes. I also love vans and converse, but getting the latter two free just wouldnt be as satisfying.

Encounter #125: Sit down, son.

Dear Dwyane,
You are real. You make me laff and cry. You make OJ sit down, like your son, son. You make me think, Wow, I will never do that. You remind me, Yep, I am a top 4 talent. You play hard.
All the best!
--RWK

No Capes #3: Nabokov

Encounter #124: Une Catastrophe, de Jean-Luc Godard

Nathan is hella correct, my friends. This thing is just too fucking good. So good I need to jump out my window into the rain--no pants!--and run around the block all freezing, laughing as the drops pelt my face and chest and my (rully long, for me) hair gets pushed flat on my forehead into my eyes so by the time I'm circled 'round again not only am I colder than cold but I'm straight shivering everywhere and, well, I'm blind, too. Dude can't quit tennis, can he? --RWK

What Community? #70: Fuck money made from hate.

Carlton: i don't want to be negative
but this image is an attack on life
on beauty
on love
whether you like it or not
--RWK [NYT]

(Not) Genius Marketing #41: Everlasting Moments

Martha's been goin gaga for this film on the email front (exposure, What!) as she works together some words after seeing the thing in Santa Fe. Kinda crappy trailer sometimes, kinda crappy title, too, sometimes, but I really want to see this sadness. I mean, I can sense how it would/could (will?) hang together as one of The Great Things. I'll grant her that. She's crazy smart, and funnier than most people--in the written word no less. Have you read her blog yet? Get on it, dummy, like, yesterday and the month before. --RWK

Encounter #123: Chill the fuck out why dont you?

Get icy, please. --RWK

Quick Lit Shit #8: Lolita

How does one read another novel? I read this twice over winter break. I may read it again in May. The other question, of course, is why did it take me this long to come to this book? --RWK

Quick Lit Shit #7: Film as Film

Should be assigned reading for anybody interested in film. --RWK

Genius Marketing #40: Wes and Brad and yellow and a phone.

Ain't this cute? The Japanese can pay these people the right amounts of money. Luckily, these guys (these guises) got some wit up their faux-Hulot sleeves. And Robert Yeoman. --RWK [via cinetrix]

What Community? #69: Thousands of feet.

Finally caught up with this BLDGBLOG post, and, well, it's everything to me right now. (Or, almost. That shower felt pretty good, too.) The gist: there's this dude, right, I mean there's always a dude, and he's living at the top of this big motherfucker cuz it takes too long to go home on the ground every day. Since I'm dumb, I bought that story right away. But Geoff Manaugh is smart. So I'm'a quote him here:

Whether or not this is even true – after all, I never think truth is the point in stories like this – 1) the idea of appropriating a construction crane as a new form of domestic space – a kind of parasitic sub-structure attached to the very thing it's helped to construct (perhaps raising the question: what is the ontology of construction cranes?) – is totally awesome; 2) further, the idea that crane operators are subject to these sorts of urban rumors and speculations brings me back to the idea that there might be a burgeoning comparative literature of mega-construction sites taking shape today, with this particular case representing a strong subgenre: mythic construction worker stories, John Henry-esque figures who single-handedly assemble whole floors of Dubai skyscrapers at midnight, with a cigarette in one hand and a hammer in the other (or so the myths go), as a kind of oral history of the global construction trade; and, finally, 3) there should be some kind of TV show – or a book, or a magazine interview series – similar to Dirty Jobs in which you go around visiting people who live in absurd places – like construction cranes atop the Burj Dubai, or extremely distant lighthouses, or remote drawbridge operation rooms on the south Chinese coast, or the janitorial supply chambers of inner London high-rises – in order to capture what could be called the new infrastructural domesticity: people who go to sleep at night, and brush their teeth, and shave, and change clothes, and shower, inside jungle radar towers for the French foreign legion, or up above the train tracks of Grand Central Station because their shift starts at 3am and they have to stay close to the job.
How do they decorate these spaces, or personalize them, or make them into recognizable homes? It's like a willful misreading of Heidegger as applied to the question of building, dwelling inside, and thinking about modern infrastructure.
I'm reminded of a line from Paul Beaty's new novel, Slumberland. Early in the book he writes, and my jaw dropped: "Sometimes just making yourself at home is revolutionary."

--RWK

What Community? #68: Broken cradle.

Look at this flickr set for more of the aftermath of the recent riots in Athens following the 12-6-08 shooting of a 15-year old boy. A lot of the graffiti is unknowable for people like who don't read Greek but this dude has translated a lot of the stuff he's taken pictures of around that burnt and beautiful town. Real Greek thugs: stay strong. Remember Jules: "Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal." --RWK

Goats #3

What Community? #67: Fresh and clean and BIG; Big is BIG, yall.

Cornell West is feelin himself as much as he's feelin Big Boi. But, still, this is pretty cool. I see all kinds of history rapped up in these goats. --RWK

Design Poach #2: So many choices.

What: multiple choice diary, 2009
Stolen from: my Close Personal Friend, mia nolting

Design Poach #1: Spiral Stairs

What: The Art Gallery of Ontario, Walker Court
Stolen from: Designbloom

Quick Lit Shit #6: Ecce Homo

Don't fuck with the anti-Jesus. Be you. --RWK

Quick Lit Shit #5: On Film [First Edition]

Dope. His analysis is so thoughtful and clear, so well organized, that I got jealous. Then I got over myself, and my fears, and realized this book is the shit. Even if I don't quite care for the _Alien_ series as a whole. In fact, I may re-watch the whole series just to spite myself. We could all do better to slow down and pay better attention, even if things keep speeding up. --RWK

Genius Marketing #39: How many platforms can we conflate?

He's got it down to a science, sonnz! Like everything in his life. Even those post-game kisses for the girls are a calculation. It's bizarre. But now that he's become -- what? -- a man (what?), he's affable. His will to power is subsumed in the fun of his celebrity. And this kind of marketing is really just genius. "Oh, we get the unadulterated look?" HEEEHCK no. It's like Romany Malko says, "You think all'a this--you think any of this is a accident?" Every angle has been played here. He even gets to plug another sport for Nike footwear. I guess there was some kind of webcast about the shoe. But my iNets have been down for a minute. Whatevs. This is hilarious, smart, sexy. I want those shoes! --RWK

Encounter #122: NIKES! have never been this free.

I don't think I've ever been this free. Is this free? Who's breaking? Breaking what? Superstars don't feel hurt, don't get AIDS, don't die. What gives? Also, gimme sum of these for free, please. --RWK

Considerable linear extent in space #4: Look at that pass.

Skeets says "LeBron James wins '09 Slam Dunk contest." I say, Jesus, look at that pass. The play after the amazing left-side drive. --RWK

What Community? #66: For your milk!

[Podomatic stream]
[Direct audio download]
[iTunes subscription available]
[Simple syndication subscription]
So Milk is all about building a community. And it's admirable. But my freeNIKES! side is still afraid of community in a way, which kinda shines through in our talk, so I thought I'd share it here, too, for the two people other than Cuy and me who read this goofy blog. Thanks. --RWK

Encounter #122: What now, gurh?

Ray Pride says, "Slapstick lives." I'm waiting for the turkeys of Alaska to get in the kitchen, get serious, like frowning and shit, bake up some deliciousness, and then gobble-gobble-waddle-waddle their way to the gov'ner's house for some flinging fun. Oh, to dream. Yes, to barf. Fuck yes: pie. --RWK

Genius Marketing #38: Chalk it out. Considerable linear extent in space #3

Those W+K folks do know what's up. This thing points to so many (ephemeral) cultural signposts that it's hard not to just vibe and digg it when all that white stuff starts flying. It's also a joke, right? Brush the dirt off yo shoulder Nikes? Weezy in Portland cheering Bron against the Blazers? Blazers? Wayne? The ad copy on the youtube page is pretty hilarious, too: "The pre-game ritual of LeBron has become a symbol of the ultimate Just Do It moment." Right, cuz throwing garbage into the air is, like, such a bigger thing than a free-throw line dunk with a tongue wagging in the wind. The best thing about the ad, though, is something Jordan never quite pulled off: I believe Bron's smile. Anybody who watched that Road to Redemption crap (hell, I got sucked in about a minute into it) knows that The King is always joking, always talking, always acting a fool, like always; he just won't quit. Except when he thinks shit gets real. The great thing about that Nov 5th clip is that he's still kinda joking around while being kinda serious and kinda smart; I mean, dude is tired post game and he's trying to act cool about the whole exciting times, but you can see the giddy. I digg how much he actually lets the public see. He keeps enough privacy that his on-display antics are enough to build a picture around. That, and, well, he's god-ish on the court. Did you see this shit?

He's got CLEIS, too, but his is--his is just, or it's more, fuck, well--LBJ is kind of gross he's so good. We talkin title year?

No Capes #2: WSB

What Community? #65: Cat killers across the UWS best lay low.

Aminull tells me that this was written in an under-construction building at W66th and Amsterdam. Condo cat killers? Consider yourself on blast. And you know what sucks the most? It's probably some batty old foreman with a lump in his throat who got fed up with cuteness one day and dropped the poor fucker down the incinerator. --RWK

Songs #31: Anywhere, dogg.

I can't quite get over how terrible that one BZ's cover is and thus this. I know it's old news, like me, and that it's real big and maybe too big for its own good, but, hot damn, who wouldn't want a Duc D'Orleans to sing this at their wake? Wake? Yea, a wake for somebody as they leave town or as they get in bed or as they start a new job. It's a romantic idea, sure, but I think that's just the way I is... --RWK

Tom Waits - Anywhere I Lay My Head (zshare)

[Pic is from the best thing in theatres right now. Go see it yesterday and the day before, peoples.]

No Capes #1: Straub-Huillet

What Community? #64: Sucked back into the tubes

God damn she is gross. I really cannot stand her. Nor am I free to fantasize like so many. At least, not while she's talking--that debate get-up was a good look. --RWK

Songs #30: There's a leak

This is my post-run "so real I can feel my face" face. And this is my post-run stretching soundtrack. My soul has got to move.

The Paramount Singers - There's a leak in this old building (zshare)

Encounter #121: More like it.

This video is kind of hilarious but the song is kind of the best thing ever in my life right now. Here I go; watch me. Gone. --RWK

Encounter #120: One shirt that continues to stay on.

This doesn't help either. In fact, it only makes matters worse. Like, really, wtf? Is that broad a real person? Also, who the fuck endorsed her singing career? Just take your top off some time, ScarJo; it's all anybody wants. --RWK [via]

Encounter #119: Shirt off, hey.

When you cant sleep cuz you dream ugly hurtful thingz, this trifle makes life seem ok again. But it doesnt help the sleeping, really. It just makes you want to eat steak sandwiches and fries, to take your shirt off and to play ball in a sunny park. --RWK [via palms]

What Community? #63: Is this your London?

Finding facts never looked more fun. --RWK [via Ray Pride]

Don't Need Anythin on Any of my Blogs other than what Olberman said Below

but I think its "amazing" that a) Im interested in him('s) music tirelessly (right now) and b) that the song is dope.

Kanye West and Youthful Jeezy play Amazing.

What Community? #62: Special Comment on Prop 8

I think he's allowed to use that send off. --RWK

Encounter #118: A frightening remix.

It's almost cool, almost, to see MJ dance here. He still can move his body the way a lot of people would like to move their bodies. But, well, he looks like a ghost. Like a fucking ghoul. And that push-her-head-from-behind move is just disgusting coming from that face/body. Like, totally ill. And, finally, the biggest response: wtf? Fuck Brett Ratner. --RWK [via carlton]

[Just plain] Marketing #37: Up.

I'm a Pixar fan. Big time. So this is tight. Especially that shot of the balloons rising past that window. So much color. I spent a lot of time in Emeryville this fall and lemme tell you: that Pixar campus must be delightful behind that security camera cuz I felt like this dude a lot. Good thing I am, in fact, going to do something similar at the end of this calendar year. Except my uprooting will involve a lot of shucking instead of holding onto my belongings. (It's already begun.) --RWK

Kanye West: Heartless

Heartless from kwest on Vimeo.

I hate that I cant hate on him. Its like hating Chuck Taylors.

Considerable linear extent in space #2: The realness. No words necessary. Some words soon, I promise.

--RWK [via Fanhouse]

Reclamation #1: Yes we will. We did. Reclamation #2, Songs #29: I'm so grateful!

by Ryland Walker Knight

Although the haters of my home state, that odd paradise on the gold coast, seem nearly victorious pushing Prop 8 into legislation, we do, indeed, have our first black president in President-Elect Barack Obama. Yes: this is our first black first family. Yes: there are still hurdles--there's a ton. But: fuck that. This is awesome. This is big, like HUGE. And his speech was so well written it was hard not to smile and tear and laugh and raise my flute more than a few times. I went on a run at midnight last night, then I stayed up late reading all kinds of reactions and watching the Prop 8 results slowly reveal their terrible (as well as the sad loss of Al Franken, who I was pulling for for a variety of reasons). I didn't sleep much. I read the transcript of our man's speech and I brimmed again. I re-read some Cavell that stirs my soul, that I sent around the internet the past week in emails, and then I put on Happy-Go-Lucky and then I fell asleep smiling. This morning brings those realizations of defeat home a little harder, yes, but it equally reminds us of that trope everybody is loving right now: a new dawn. Yes: the idealist in me only wants to weep, to celebrate, to dance in the streets of Chicago and show the world love, to remind my friends that, well, it's just a law and while we must subscribe to that law if we live in this society we may also see some brave body say, "No," and appeal his and his and her and her rights to build a more perfect union along with the rest of America, this America that, for at least a speech's length, was, Yes, my head.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he’s fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation’s next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming with us to the White House. And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics – you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you’ve sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to – it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn’t start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington – it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation’s apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn’t do this just to win an election and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime – two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor’s bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America – I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you – we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government can’t solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years – block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers – in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House – a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, "We are not enemies, but friends...though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection." And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world – our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down – we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security – we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America – that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that’s on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She’s a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing – Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn’t vote for two reasons – because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she’s seen throughout her century in America – the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can’t, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women’s voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves – if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time – to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth – that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.

[There will be something embeddable in the near future, I'm sure (as evidenced above), but for now look here to see these words performed, passsionately.]


As Mark and Kate and I cleaned up a bit last night, before our free can of PBR downstairs and my joyful departure home, I put on this Dennis Ferrer song that Cam sent my way because, really, what else were we to listen to? Fuck. Yes. FUCK YES! Maybe, fuggit, I'll eat some bacon. Or, hell, I'll go get coffee and donuts. Whatever it is, I'm feelin it already.

Dennis Ferrer ft Kenny Bobien - Grateful (Df's Raise Yo Hands Vox Mix) (zshare)

[x-posted on VINYL IS HEAVY]

Live from London: The United States have an Election Tomorrow

I am going to have to admit, once again, I will not be voting. But this time, its not bc Im junk sick, or "very angry" at nobody and everybody. I made a valiant attempt, my gF in fact, received her ballott and sent it off. Mine never came (itll probably come as McCain is announced the winner, and immediately, a hole will open in west London, and Satan will take this Jew to where he belongs).
Regardless, Obama is running against a broken wooden toy and this holy cunt. Godspeed my beloved country, and any of my dudes who read this, please think positively, and vote. I will be home soon. I love you Terrence Malick.

Songs #28: These girls are rmx'd to chime/kill. What Community? #62: We saw some Halloween crazy.

In these daze of waning interest in most things bloghouse, when I mostly want to listen to house -- or DEEP house -- the Valerie crew still kills me. I'm just a sucker for synths, I guess. Also, epic things. My Halloween was epic. But it was more epic in a let's fight this ass clown for his cab kind of way. Less of a dressed to kill kind of way. Still, we got our life on. We saw some sites. We saw some numbers, some neons and blacks and blondes and pavement up close. We saw a young man fight a mattress with his head hanging low and his shirt tattered by life; and we saw a mob of bums laughing, seeing us fall on the ground. We saw my hand a bloody mess. We saw no cabs for 30 minutes. We almost saw the sunrise. If we found some facts along the way I'd want their crazy to be scored by this song. Luckily, we did not find any facts. We only found fairly crazy crazy. And I lost some valuable thing. Some thing. Something like money, something like a name, something like knuckle skins. --RWK

The Outrunners - These girls are dressed to kill (Russ Chimes rmx) (direct discodust link)

[Pix: I found some facts in Carlton's room, with Pager Code goin nutty in between changes. We'll see if these gain public motion, but, for now, I gotta be real: doesn't look good, iNet mini-monde.]

Songs #27: Martin Luther Bling

Actually, it's just an old school remix of a Zapp song -- quick, cast your vote: this or Kraftwerk? -- with Ghostface throwin skillz over top with little (if nothing) changed from the first version. --RWK [via discobelle; the link is to them]

Ghostface Killah - Computer Love (direct link)

[Pic is pretty obvious. But, hell, I'm tired.]

Songs #26: Hybrid Moments

Switchin it up a bit, and stealing the opportunity to share this zshare link while it's up. Plus, I watched this movie this morning when I could sleep and, while it may be a lesser work from this hilarious master, it's still pretty great--and sexy! Like, whoa. Victoria Abril is one hot lady. So much so that Antonio there tells her so right as she pulls a dress up over her ass. What I like so much about his early pictures is their energy. For all the greatness of his recent work, none can pop and sizzle like this or other from pre-Oscar sanctioning... Oh, and The Misfits. Yes, The Misfits. As I told Mark, the main association I have with Danzig is Aqua Teen Hunger Force. I didn't watch TV as a kid and I never had a Misfits phase, either, even for a second, until this past week. And, truth be told, my Misfits phase is limited to this song on repeat. --RWK

The Misfits - Hybrid Moments (zshare)

[Is getting beat up the ticket into her heart? You bet! Well, that and a touching anecdote about a solitary childhood memory that's flooding the mind.]

What Community? #61: Sometimes it isn't.

Slayo: sometimes local news is so 'feel good' its revolting
http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_10855567?source=most_viewed
and sometimes it isnt
Sent at 12:41 PM on Thursday
RWK: wtf
i mean, wow

Encounter #117: Frog-like howls still thrill.

On the Rushmore DVD there's a Charlie Rose interview with Bill Murray and Wes Anderson and at one point Bill Murray says something like, "The French can't play rock and roll but they want to tell you all about every session guitar player ever for every rock and roll record ever recorded." I immediately thought of that while watching this. I laughed. Then I realized this shit is just too fucking dope to laugh at. Good job, Frog. Great job, in fact. Keep in touch. --RWK [via derp]

Genius Marketing #36: Fuck Guitar Hero and the Cruise it slid in on.

Genius if only for the fact that it'll pop up all over every idiot blog just like this one for the next week or so and then it'll help sell yet more shit to yet more fools plugged into idiot box boob tubes everywhere. (Cuz, you know, I don't live through my laptop.) --RWK

Encounter #116: Bite me. New York City keeps calling.

Abel Ferrara proves "cool" still happens. It's about strength. Vitality is rare these daze. I know I'm fighting to find it in me every ordinary day down the line. I guess anybody reading this in NYC already knows: go see Mary, like, yesterday over here. --RWK [via Ray Pride, x-posted on ViH]

What Community? #60: Puppies, America

I'm mostly against dogs cuz I think they're dumb but this is pretty fucking tough to resist. I mean, c'mon. More gooey close-ups! Please! --RWK

Encounter #115: Tofu rides boards

"The water-loving rats are even on a special diet to stay in shape." Loving it. More evidence: if a rat can learn to surf, I can learn to skate--even at relatively doughy 26. --RWK [via Carlton via Daily Mail]

Considerable linear extent in space #1: Seeing it equals believing it over here.

No two ways about it: I'm on the Anthony Randolph bandwagon. I don't know how many people proceed and surround me, here, but I figure there's a few of us weighing down the hitch and unbalancing things. Especially among Warriors fans. Cuz things in Oakland don't look so great right now. All we've got to vibe on is promise. And we all know promises don't mean shit. But we hope in vain--always and forever. To come clean: I didn't watch Randolph at LSU. I got hyped during his summer league flailings. From the little I saw, it looks like he can handle and refuses to give up his dribble; plain refuses to give up the ball. But I didn't get the sense, yet, that he's a chucker. He just feels driving, I think. And he glides as much as he jangles through the lane. He makes Cap'n Jax look like a stop-motion G.I. Joe.

Of course, Monta won't be making (most) people look like slow motion for a cool minute. Which sucks. And Baron's gone. Which is bittersweet. But Buike did well the other day, and Fast Andy will, I'm sure, only grow with more time on the block. We'll see how Corey Maggette's implacable will to drive meshes with Randolph and Monta in the new year, but, for now, it kinda makes sense to let a lot of offense go through him. With Monta out, Corey is easily the most talented and skilled offensive player who will see playing time. I'm ignoring Al Harrington because, well, as much as I love Donatello, he can't Superman his way to 20 and 10 with bad selection on 3 pointers only (and not using his body in the paint) and I don't see Nellie (or any fellow players, for that matter) letting the ball run through Al down low. I'm also ignoring defense, because, well, you know why. It's a weird roster. I've got my faves, of course, as highlighted by this column's patron saint (thank you, Jay Bilas) and the other young and lanky, B-Rite, who should only get/be better. But if I'm going to write about our W-men in each column, I'll try to find something more interesting to say beyond "so-and-so did so-what" as this progresses.

Because, patron saint or no, I do not want this to be a strict team-based journal. It will follow what I happen to watch, of course, but I trust TNT and TBS and ESPN and ABC will only let me watch so much. In fact, I don't even have cable. So unless I start hitting Triple Rock a lot, my main avenue of basketball intake will be Sunday double headers and internet highlights--which, of course, means I can write about what other people are writing about. But that can be boring, too. Here's what I'm going to try to do:

1. Follow a few personal obsessions, which are by no means "original" or even "particular to me," like Anthony Randolph, Kobe's legs (pace Tex), Mike Beasley's goof town lifestyle, Rudy Fernandez vs Greg Oden in ROY race (at least on the Blazers), how the Blazers should march through the world heads held high, Kevin Durant's eventual and terrible and hug-him-please cries on the inside under his (we hope) growing ferocity in the fourth, hating the WNBA, hating the Celtics but loving Bill "Sky" Walker, Houston getting big with Ron Ron up front and a vegan at the point, A.I., Melo, J.R. Smith, Josh Smith, Gay-Mayo, the Spurs devolving, the new Pistons, D'antoni running the Animal Apple in 7 sex or less, Chicago's all-backcourt starting five, Joe Alexander slaying the midwest AZN broads (they got those, right?) Yi left behind all clamoring, Yi making jokes with Vince about foolin'em all, LeBron stomping, Caron slicing, D-Wade getting anywhere at any moment to put up any shot possible ignoring the Matrix of possibilities behind him, Larry Brown shackling another flier in GW, Rick Carlisle making the Mavs that much more intolerable, somebody (please, somebody) punching Carlos Boozer's ugly fucking face, Kevin Love's chin strap and Mike Miller's grease-locks, more Beno Udrih push-offs, more Julian Wright--period--and Danny Granger, too, the Turkish Delight's inevitable backslide, Brand getting big with Thaddeus, Amare bouncing past everybody and everything when Shaq rides the bench and Nash tires for good, Baron looking to pass all street a lot more, Chris Bosh getting a hair cut or make over or something.

2. Make some jokes.

3. Invite some dialogue. Foreal: I don't know shit. I just like the game, and the league. As with anything I write, it's chiefly for me, but, since people may read this, well, why don't we chop it up a bit?

4. Not poach too too much, although some will be unavoidable--especially at the start--as I find my feet with this thing.

5.i. Ask "What is basketball?" in a different way each time out.
5.ii. For instance, this time I'm trying to show that it's stupid to plan (or even hope) for much when it comes to something (cough, life) with this many variables. You just gotta enjoy this flux of fun.
5.iii. Keep an eye to seriousness within the nonserious discourse of a goofy blog like this one, which may manifest itself in stuff like, yes, naming life a "flux of fun", thereby invoking philosophical premises I find internal but not integral to my understanding of the game and its place as a social function--on the court, for the fans, in pick up, in relation to rap, as ritual, as theatre, as platform for what's bigger.

Please, tell me things. --RWK

Encounter #114: In the eye, off the shoulder

Look, brush, tip yo cap and lean back, lean back. Go on, say it; go on and take yo jacket off. What? --RWK [via]

Encounter #113: Sleepyhead

My buddy Rebecca just sent this to me. I can't quite make out the lyrics. But I can see the dudes who made the video know some things about images, and work, and looking. The hook is catchy, dreadful, great. The bleepy synthings cool, fun, poppy. Maybe I'll look into this band. They're probably already a hit. In any event, thanks, friend, for the tip. --RWK

What Community? #59: A Cross The Universe

Just what you thought it'd be, boobs and coke and vomit and everything else. Gah. What a way to live. At least the images look good. It's weird, however effective, to brand a lifestyle. Especially a lifestyle like this. But, hey, it's "cool", right? --RWK

What Community? #58: Fully Flared

The rest is available on youtube, too. It's pretty dope. Yes, it's true: I turned 16, not 26, back in May. --RWK [via Mark]

Quick Lit Shit #4: Ontology: The Hermeutics of Facticity

Sure, okay, fine. Use those words like that. At least I found myself laughing instead of simply frustrated. I see what he's doing, yes, but I don't want it; I'd rather read any number of similarly difficult writers, like Gadamer*. That dude is truly playful. And, you know, not a Nazi. (I hate that that colors my understanding of Heidegger but for some reason, oh I don't know, I can't shake it.)

*or Bergson, to pick a contemporary
--RWK

Quick Lit Shit #3: Negative Space

My reading never stops. The times I put it down are just long pauses. --RWK

Quick Lit Shit #2: Cities of Words

Maybe his "best" book. --RWK

Encounter #112: Whatever you like.

Surprising indictment of fantasy from the gooiest song you'd imagine Tip to put out. Admission: I think Tip is too cool, and I'm happy he beat the gun charges. Rap is such a weird place these daze but Tip keeps cranking out these over-produced hook-heavy cinematic swirls of songs so it's no wonder he's still selling. He makes the dream sound sexy. And, yet, he seems more interesting than that reduction: it seems like each of his hits is about a promise out of reach. Or, I simply dig that his flow is smooth. "Be quiet..." --RWK

What Community? #57: Why Halloween will suck this year.

Fuck this. --RWK [via Carlton's web prowling/gchat hood status]

Kanye West: Love Lockdown Video

I dont really get how serious he takes his break-up. Didnt he dump her when they were engaged? she should've made this song maybe.

>>cb,

What Community? #56: Portland getting big already.

Two givens: (1) Pre-season (2) vs Kings.
Two undeniables: (1) Rudy got game (2) Oden will be fine
One no duh enthusiasm: Blazers will be great to watch.
--RWK [via TSB/BS]

What Community? #55: Sad guys.

From this tumblr, via this buddy, to whom we should all wish a happy birthday. --RWK

Encounter #111: Halle Berry is sexy.

The ever-creepy OG lad mag Esquire says "Sexiest", to boot. Hard to argue, really, when Halle here just had a kid and is, you know, 42 years young. This isn't even the "sexiest" picture in the set (my vote goes to the one with Burt). But it's my favorite cuz it's the least about her. It's more about that tank top. You don't get her face, you get Obama's face -- under her boobs, yes -- and even that is wrinkled by the stretch of the fabric. Everything in this image is getting pulled. You gotta love when there's at least one image forcing you to rethink how you're looking, how you're objectifying, how you're such a dumb guy all saliva and wide eyes. Or maybe that was just me and my reaction to this particular image. Also, don't get me wrong: it's still sexy. --RWK