The Big Green House

Monday, March 31, 2003

 

I swear, it�s just like high school all over again

Two things I have noticed since Google bought Blogger:

1) I can no longer make any changes in my template. Not a hugely big deal, but there are some links I�d like to add over there & Bloogle won�t let me.
2) The banner ads now sorta match the content; for example, I�ve seen ads for Buster Keaton DVDs, rubber chickens, and chili powder, all of which I�ve written about at one time or another. For those of you just tuning in: yeah, that�s what this thing is all about � low comedy and hot food. (I can only guess that Glogger doesn�t take ads from breweries or indy record labels, or we�d have all the bases covered.) I am a little confused about a few of the banner ads I�ve seen here, for such things as odor-fighting devices and glue, but maybe I just forgot writing about them. Or maybe Booger (ew, I can see why they didn�t go with that one) is trying to tell me something.

And then there�s Southern Decadence 2003. I�m not sure why that one shows up so often. I don�t swing that way, myself, but perhaps it might be of use to some of you folks out there in Readerland. If so, have fun, be safe, and thank the good folks at Google/Blogger/Whatever when you get home.

Meanwhile, I�ll be here in Seattle, bein� all hetero & stuff. With Science Girl. Who, I might add, is a woman.

(Edit, 4/1/03 - I have wrongfully cast aspersions upon Blogger; I can indeed change my template, now. The blogging gods are just, yet fickle.)


bmarkey 3/31/2003 08:21:00 PM

Friday, March 28, 2003

 

Lucky for you

I had a big rant all set to go about� well, all kinds of unpleasant shit, mostly to do with the moral bankruptcy of the current American government. �I should be used to the feelings of embarrassment and shame brought on by decisions made in The Other Washington by now, having lived through the Reagan administration, but it seems to be a perpetual source of disgust and disgrace.� Stuff like that. I�ve been working on it in my head all day, and frankly I�m too depressed now to write it up. Instead I�m going to link to a really good piece by Mark Morford which says a lot of what I had in mind, only much more eloquently & without the inevitable foul language I�d feel compelled to add.

As for me, I�m going to finish my shift, go home, and crawl inside a bottle of Bushmills. If I come up with anything worth the effort to type, you�ll see it here.

bmarkey 3/28/2003 06:02:00 PM

Thursday, March 27, 2003

 

Bloody Vikings!

Oh dear. I appear to have peed in the pickled herring, metaphorically speaking. Last night I came home to a somewhat perturbed Science Girl who informed me, in no uncertain terms, that the Norwegians do not have sole claim on Ballard; there are, in fact, just as many Swedes and Finns there. (Have I mentioned that she is Swedish-Finnish on her mother�s side?) So, in the interest of domestic tranquility, and to set the record straight, let me now amend last night�s post � Ballard is chock full of Squareheads of every type, all contributing to the friendly-yet-occasionally-somewhat-icy nature of Seattle life. Not just Norwegians!

So let�s all have some potatiskorv and lefse, maybe a little akvavit, and we�ll have a big laugh about this.

And maybe I won�t be sleeping on the couch again tonight.


bmarkey 3/27/2003 07:26:00 PM

Wednesday, March 26, 2003

 

Is lutefisk radioactive?

I�ve started having the nuclear warfare dream again. I thought I�d seen the last of it when Reagan left office, but I was mistaken. It woke me up at 7:30 yesterday morning. Well, that and our neighbors slamming their back door, which is about 10-15 feet from out bedroom window. That added a whole new aspect to an already terrifying dream - Sensurround sound. Not the best way to start the day, but I�m sure I blew any plaque build-up right out of my arteries.

On a completely unrelated note � when people who�ve never been there ask me what San Francisco is like, I can now point them to this story. One of the things I miss about The City is the sense of goofiness (to put it mildly) so evident down that way. That�s not to say the Seattle doesn�t have its playful side � we did, after all, get a visit from The Monolith in 2001. It�s just not so much of a daily thing here � possibly due to the heavy Norwegian influence. Then again, Ballard is home to the people who market this, so maybe I�m all wet on the wacky Scandanavian concept.


bmarkey 3/26/2003 09:32:00 PM

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

 

Polterspice

Sunday night I was trying to use up some leftovers, so I threw some previously steamed broccoli into a skillet with some saut�ed onion, garlic, red bell pepper, a little soy sauce, and some really old curry powder. It was OK, although you could just barely make out the curry. It was like The Ghost of Curries Past. What I want to know, then, is A) why do my hands still smell like curry, after innumerable hand-washings and two showers? and, even more mysteriously, B) why does the entire house reek of curry? I made chili today, a rather fragrant dish, I think you�ll agree, yet all I can smell in the entire house is that otherwise non-existent curry. Can anyone out there explain the physics involved to me?

bmarkey 3/25/2003 07:58:00 PM

Monday, March 24, 2003

 
I have various family members (genetic and extended) who may have very serious illnesses. Tests will be coming in over the course of the next couple of weeks, so we don�t really know anything as of yet. If I disappear off the radar for a while, it�s probably because I�m assimilating news of one sort or another. We are hoping for the best.
bmarkey 3/24/2003 09:57:00 PM

Friday, March 21, 2003

 

My therapy, your monitor

Why do I have a really bad feeling about this? There�s some genuine potential for ugliness there.

OK, alright. You didn�t come here for war updates. I know this. And I�m not a retired four-star general, a military analyst, or a foaming-at-the-mouth, blinded-by-hubris, neo-con �pundit� hack cumming in his shorts over the supposed end of the UN� oops, sorry, that slipped out. The point I was going to make is that you don�t want to hear my views on current affairs any more than I really want to type them up. I don�t have anything new to say about� well, anything, really. I�d just as soon get back to blathering on about records, booze, and food; I have no insights there, either, but at least I�m on familiar turf.

On the other hand, it�s really difficult to focus on that kind of stuff right now. And besides, if I were writing for an audience I�d sure as hell be broken-hearted by now �cause there ain�t but five or six of you that stop by and read this tripe anyway. Stuff shows up here because I can�t get it out of my head, for one reason or another. So if I feel the need to run off at the mouth and call the alleged leader of the free world a smug, simple-minded frat boy with delusions of competence who couldn�t pour piss out of a boot with the directions printed on the heel and his entire cabinet cheering him on, it�ll be done here. (And now I�m gonna be having nightmares about Rumsfeld in a cheerleader outfit.) It won�t solve anything, and it certainly won�t provide any revelations for anyone, but perhaps it will stop the bile rising in my throat long enough to get me through another day.

bmarkey 3/21/2003 07:45:00 PM

Thursday, March 20, 2003

 

Life During Wartime

What, you mean I�m not the first to use that?

I�ve spent the day alternately flipping through TV channels, walking the dog, and napping. In between these flurries of activity, I�ve been trying to think something relatively intelligent to say or do. I keep coming back to my desire to part W�s hair with a brick. Which, while satisfying, would be wrong. Of course.

Yep.

On the other hand, it�s encouraging to see how many people have signed on with peaceblogs.org. I can�t help wondering if there�s not some way to channel all our various talents into some sort of, um, force for good. (Christ, that sounds like the beginning of some half-assed superhero comic book. I really hope that�s not the direction things take, because I have spandex issues.)

bmarkey 3/20/2003 07:13:00 PM

Wednesday, March 19, 2003

 
I WANT MY COUNTRY BACK!
bmarkey 3/19/2003 08:30:00 PM

 
Not much to say tonight. I�m just sitting here waiting for the shit to come down.

It�s raining.

bmarkey 3/19/2003 05:37:00 PM

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

 
OK, my template is being ornery. You should go to PeaceBlogs.org right now.

Also, lest we forget: killing people is rude.

bmarkey 3/18/2003 06:56:00 PM

 

Why I Oppose The War

A war to enforce the will of the UN, which itself undermines the will of the UN, smacks of the �we had to burn the village in order to save it� mentality. While I�m all for dark irony, it stops being funny when people start dying.

And there will be people dying - Americans who wanted to serve their country, and Iraqis who made the mistake of being born in the wrong place at perhaps the worst possible time in history. (The press to the contrary, it�s not just going to be Bush vs. Saddam.) Here�s a couple of things to keep in mind when the casualty reports start coming back: 1) the military will lowball numbers which the folks back home might find distressing, and 2) �collateral damage� means civilians blown to pieces and/or burned beyond recognition.

Has it occurred to anyone with any say-so in this little adventure that an (arguably illegal) invasion might just boost recruitment among the terrorists? That doesn�t really jibe with the �remove Saddam and you pacify the Mid-east� theory, does it? (How much crack had they smoked when they came up with that one, anyway?)

Acting like an 800-pound-gorilla is not an effective foreign policy. We had an enormous outpouring of good will from the rest of the world after 9/11, and our leaders have pissed it all away with statements like �you�re either with us or against us�. Whatever happened to that �building consensus� thing Mr. Bush mentioned before the election?

The whole idea of an American Empire is an unsettling one, at best. Anyone who�s read any history will probably agree. Ask the British what it�s like when your empire falls apart � and they all fall apart, eventually.

We do invasion pretty well, but we really do suck when it comes to rebuilding afterwards. The war itself may be short, but the occupation is bound to linger on and on. Which, coincidentally, would be very convenient indeed for the oil companies.

Finally, let me add that opposition to the war does not mean disrespect of those in uniform. On the contrary, perhaps the best way to support out troops is to bring them home.


bmarkey 3/18/2003 06:09:00 PM

Monday, March 17, 2003

 

Hello-
Please excuse bmarkey from work today. He is home sick, nursing a Guinness� er, a cold.
Signed,
My Ma

So I called in sick to work today. I must actually be sick then, since it usually takes something along the lines of decapitation to get me to miss a day. It�s more a matter of not wanting to screw my co-workers than a sense of duty, but I�m still contagious, and it sorta goes against the vein of healthcare work to infect others.

Instead, I stayed home and had the traditional Irish dinner of from-a-box jambalaya & Guinness. OK, I�m not really up to cooking properly and Science Girl is working over at Science Manor, so jambalaya for its spiciness and Guinness because it is good for you.

I am, more or less, one quarter Irish. Family records are a bit murky on that side; everybody who knew anything for sure went to their grave with that information. We Markeys have always been a tight-lipped lot. Still, from the small amount of digging I�ve done on the internet, it appears that the Markeys originally came about in County Monaghan or thereabouts. I met a bartender a few years ago who told me he knew a Markey in Dublin, so perhaps there are still a few of us kicking around the Auld Sod.

Science Girl, on the other had, can trace her family straight back to Erin, on her father�s side. Her uncle has been back to visit and found relative who run a B&B, no less. When we eventually do get married, I do hope we can go and pay them a visit on our honeymoon. Provided international travel is still possible, of course�




bmarkey 3/17/2003 07:37:00 PM

Sunday, March 16, 2003

 
Apparently I�m not as bulletproof as I previously thought. Yesterday I came down with a nasty-ass cold, so I spent the lovely spring day on the couch watching Laurel & Hardy and Buster Keaton. Which is not a bad way to spend the day, but it�s not what I had in mind, either. The next time I start writing about how great I feel, I�ll thank one of you to smack me in the head before I come down with pneumonia.
bmarkey 3/16/2003 11:08:00 AM

Friday, March 14, 2003

 
I�m in one of those weird moods where I�m almost desperate to create something but have absolutely no clue as to what that something might be. This sort of thing seems to hit me every spring, now that I think about it, and today was a very spring-like day � warm, sunny, scattered low clouds and a little wind. It was the kind of day that makes you feel bulletproof, like you could step out into traffic and stop that oncoming truck with just your bare hands and the force of your will. Only you don�t, because hey, why embarrass the truck driver?
bmarkey 3/14/2003 05:02:00 PM

Wednesday, March 12, 2003

 

Up, not over

I am something of a purist when it comes to food and beverages. Don�t get me wrong � I�m all for experimentation, because without it we stagnate. What bothers me is the misappropriation of an otherwise honorable name for an execrable excuse for refreshment.

I�m talking about the venerable martini, of course. It has come to my attention, via email from the always urbane (and apparently freshly-coiffed) cowboy_sally, and now this post by jonmc, that there are some people out there running around loose in the world who believe, god help us, that a martini should taste like a Jolly Rancher. This, more than anything else, tells me that our civilization is about to topple over and burst into flames. Call it whatever you want, but unless there�s gin and vermouth in that glass it ain�t a martini. Heed well my words and you shall surely prosper - if you don�t like the taste of booze, you probably shouldn�t be drinking it. Hard liquor tastes the way it does so that you don�t drink yourself into a coma. Do yourself a favor: order a Zima and leave the adult beverages for those who can appreciate them.

And now, in a (probably vain) attempt to prop up what�s left of American culture, I give you:

How to build a martini in the privacy of your own home: a guide for those without access to a competent bartender.

It�s easy, fun, and (almost) guaranteed to impress members of whichever gender you fancy.

You will need the following:
Gin: I prefer Bombay, but Tanqueray will do the job. Do not buy cheap-o gin unless you really hate your liver and want to show it who�s boss.
Dry Vermouth: DRY is key. Save the sweet stuff for manhattans. Better yet, just leave it at the store. As far as brands go, I�ve always used Martini & Rossi, so I don�t have anything to compare it to.
Lemon peel: Olives belong on the hors d'oeuvres tray and not in your glass. If you absolutely must succumb to stereotype, keep it to one olive per drink.
Ice: Cubed, not crushed. We�re not making slurpees.

As far as equipment goes, there�s room for improvisation. Don�t feel like you�ve got to run out and buy a lot of fancy-schmancy barware (unless you�re looking for a excuse to do so, in which case go nuts). My advice is to save your money for quality hooch. Anyway, you�ll need:
Martini glasses: I got mine at Cost Plus for cheap, but in a pinch you can make do with a wine glass. The stem is what�s important � it allows you to hold the glass without transferring heat from your hand to your drink.
A pint glass in which to mix the goodies: You can use a shaker, of course (more on which later), but not everybody has one lying around the house. If you don�t have a pint glass� why not? Er, I mean, a tall water tumbler would probably work.
Cocktail strainer: would be handy, but I�ve always been able to keep the ice in its proper place with a spoon.

OK, let�s get to work.

Put the bottle of gin into your freezer, along with the martini glasses and the pint glass. Overnight would be best, but it will need to chill for a minimum of two hours. (The vermouth can go in the fridge.) Rent The Thin Man to watch for inspiration while the gin is chilling.

Is everything chilled properly? Good. Cut a strip of lemon peel and set it aside. Remove the glassware from the freezer. Twist the lemon peel inside the martini glass, rub the rim of the glass with the peel, and deposit the spent peel at the bottom of your glass. (Each drink should get its own peel.)

Remove the cap from the vermouth bottle; pour in just enough vermouth to cover the bottom of the cap. Now pour that into the pint glass and swirl it around until most of the inside of that glass is covered. Pour out any excess � too much vermouth is the downfall of a good martini. Fill the pint glass with ice. Gently pour the gin down the side of the pint glass. You�ll want approximately one ounce per drink, but I always eyeball it myself. (Don�t make any more than what you�re going to drink right away. Those pitchers of martinis Samantha made for Darren on Bewitched sure looked good, but unless they were drinking like fiends (and hey, it was the early Sixties � booze culture was at its peak, so they just might have been) that pitcher warmed up before they got to the bottom of it. Heat + martini = bad news.)

Again, gently stir the contents of the pint glass. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, SHAKE A MARTINI. NEVER. JUST DON�T DO IT. James Bond may have been a super-spy, but a shaken vodka �martini� might as well be a glass of bat�s piss.

Strain your martini into the glass and enjoy. You�ll thank me when you sober up.

Edit: It occurred to me this morning that someone might misinterpret this as a dis of jonmc. That would be incorrect; I'm dissing the people that think that there are 150 kinds of martinis.

bmarkey 3/12/2003 09:11:00 PM

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

 

Things I have learned

Small dogs will eat remarkably large amounts of the following, if accidentally permitted to do so: roasted, salted cashews; sharp cheddar cheese; smoked oysters. These same small dogs will spend the better part of the next several days regretting that they�d ever come in contact with the aforementioned foods.

The scent of lilies, which so many people find intoxicating, causes me to experience fairly severe nausea and headache. I�m not fooling. My employers get a bouquet for our workplace from a local florist every week, and they�re usually pretty good about leaving out the stinkier flowers. This week they forgot, so I�ve been fighting to keep my lunch down every day. I even moved them across the room and still the stench was overpowering. I finally had to get the official OK from my boss to toss the nasty things. Oh, and ditto on paperwhites, if you were thinking of sending me flowers.

When chopping fiery hot chiles, do not rub your eye. If you accidentally do rub your eye, (even though you were just thinking �Don�t rub your eye�), when you rinse your eye in running water be sure to tilt your head so that the water does not run into your other eye. I learned these two valuable lessons at the same time I learned that adding raisins to shrimp curry is actually pretty tasty.

And unless you know for a fact that a woman is pregnant, do not, under any circumstances, ask when her due date is.




bmarkey 3/11/2003 07:23:00 PM

Monday, March 10, 2003

 
So, the snow was just a big tease. There was nary a flake all weekend, and things have warmed up to the point where� well, we can just forget about snow anytime soon. Feh.

In happier news, I spent a ridiculous amount of time this weekend working on a mix that seems pretty damn cool so far, although I�m still tweaking it a little. I might even make it available to the general public, if anybody shows any interest. (If you�re a regular reader, you�ve probably got a fairly decent idea as to what might be in this particular mix. If you�re new here and you�re looking for some techno trance breakbeat brokedick chillout, you�re gonna be disappointed. It�s just music sung and played by humans, I�m afraid.)

bmarkey 3/10/2003 07:51:00 PM

Friday, March 07, 2003

 

Snow on the grass at the beach

The wind has stopped, and the temps have dropped. It was 37 degrees when I passed through the U District at 3:00 PM on my way to work. We�ve had a fairly steady mix of rain & snow today � mostly rain, BUT you never know around here.

It took me forever to wake up this morning. Usually I can leap right out of bed upon awakening. Well, not leap, exactly� let�s say that, barring any distractions, I�m generally up & semi-conscious within ten minutes of opening my eyes. Which, y�know, is not bad for someone of my age and general decrepitude. Say, who asked you, anyway?

Uh, yeah. So, once I actually woke up I felt pretty peppy. The possible onset of snowfall has only increased that vim, while adding a certain vigor of its own. So, since it�s Friday, and since I�m in a relatively good mood (but don�t start with me), let�s talk about music for a bit, shall we? I�ve kinda let that side of the blog fall by the wayside of late.

Contributing to the general perkiness was Life on Other Planets, the newest offering from Supergrass. I suppose one would classify this as Britpop, seeing as it�s reminiscent of 70�s era British pop. Whatever; I am very much in love with this disc. (And the first one that asks me why I don�t marry it gets boxed on the ear.) It�s a huge improvement over their previous outing; that one felt very sluggish and over-produced to me. LOOP has a few extra bells & whistles & such, but A) they serve the songs this time out, rather than vice versa, and B) it�s a much snappier set, too. It�s a sonic ride to the beach in a cherry red �65 Mustang convertible with the top down and a cooler in the back seat full of ice, beer, and I dunno, maybe some weenies for roasting. Standout cuts include Never Done Nothing Like That Before, Grace, Rush Hour Soul� well, hell, give it a listen yourself.

Now if you�ll excuse me, I�ve got some toboggans to price.

bmarkey 3/07/2003 08:43:00 PM

Thursday, March 06, 2003

 

Blowin� in the wind

It�s been windy here the last couple of days, a nasty cold wind straight from the Gulf of Alaska. Taking Lucy for a walk is like flying a small, dog-shaped kite. You know the old saying about March coming in like a lion & going out like a lamb? I have found, in my nearly nine years in the Northwest, that March actually comes in like a lion, eats the lamb, eats the rest of the livestock for good measure, and goes out like the same lion, only sated, fatter, and somewhat logy.

Of course, you remember what happened the last time we had a good wind here. That�s right. Before and After. And it still looks like that; we have yet to hear a peep from the landlord about putting the damn thing back up. Since we�re going to be moving out in a little while it�s not a hugely big deal, but it does still kinda bug me. Not enough to make me fix it myself, apparently, but I am getting tired of the dirty looks from the neighbors. Oh well.

bmarkey 3/06/2003 06:30:00 PM

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

 

Puppies and kittens and meadows full of flowers�

�will not diminish my searing, white-hot hatred for Microsoft and all their products � specifically the idiot version of Publisher we�re currently running at work. Grrrr.

bmarkey 3/05/2003 05:56:00 PM

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

 

Moving pictures

Science Girl suggested that I say something about the guy I met outside the theater Sunday night. I aim to please.

Since the Little Theater is a small place and was very definitely oversold for the show we attended, it got mighty warm by the time the movie ended. SG wanted to use the restroom before we left, so I went outside to wait for her and cool off a bit. As the rest of the patrons wandered off into the night and the folks in queue for the 9:30 showing filed in, this heavily tattooed, pierced and stretched-lobed gent approached me and asked, �Is this it?�

�That depends on what �it� is, I guess.� Rarely am I without a snappy comeback.

�Is this where they�re showing the Shane McGowan movie?�

I confirmed that it was. We chatted for a bit, mostly about Mr. Modern Primitive�s obsession with Shane & The Pogues. �Check this out�, he said, pulling up his right trouser leg. Covering the entire back of his calf was a very well done black line tattoo of Shane (having a drink, natch). I expressed my appreciation of the work & asked if he�d had it done locally; he explained that he was a tattoo artist from Tacoma and that his boss had done it for him.

It was about then that SG found me, so I told him I hoped he�d enjoy the movie and said goodbye.

I have a small tat myself; it took about 45 minutes to an hour to finish, as I recall. I�m guessing that this guy�s piece was the better part of a day�s work, if not more, and a lot more painful than mine. I hope he gets to show it to Shane at some point; I wonder what he�d make of it? I�d imagine seeing one�s likeness tattooed on someone, no matter how good the line work, would be an odd experience. Flattering, yes, but odd nonetheless.

Tattoos are such curious things. Some look great, others don�t. (I�m from the �less is more� school. I�ve yet to see a sleeve that looked good on anybody. It�s just too much going on � it becomes a muddle. My personal opinion, your mileage may vary, etc.) I put a lot of thought into why I wanted mine, what it meant to me and what the image would actually be. While I was having it inked a woman came into the shop (parlor?), spent about five minutes looking through the flash book and picked out what she wanted done on her ankle.

I think the strangest one I�ve ever seen was down in Oakland. This guy had shaved his head, and then had someone tattoo a San Francisco 49er�s helmet on him. Not a picture of a helmet, mind you; it was as if his head was the helmet. I�m surprised he found somebody to do it for him

And then there was this guy I used to work with who had numerous homemade tats, on both arms. One day I asked about them. He said that in Fiji, where he grew up, it was common among teenage boys to tattoo each other. He then volunteered that he, himself, had tattooed his name on his penis.

I took his word for it.



bmarkey 3/04/2003 10:31:00 PM

Monday, March 03, 2003

 

Lend me £10 and I'll buy you a drink

First up, a minor clarification of the Mr. Rogers post, as it is somewhat disjointed as it stands. (We had a big corporate wingding at my place of employment the night I wrote it, so I found it kinda difficult to stay focused.) The Keith Cameron quote (taken from the current issue of Mojo) was meant to tie into the fact that while for many people punk was about the re-invention of the self, Mr. Rogers was about facilitating the invention of the original self; somehow I left that out.

On to new business: Science Girl and I went to the fabulous-if-tiny Little Theater last night to see If I Should Fall from Grace, a documentary about none other than the poster boy for the Irish Dental Association himself, Shane McGowan. If you are at all interested in the man &/or his music with and without The Pogues, by all means seek this film out. Be warned, though, that drink and drugs have had their way with Shane - as he has had his way with them, I suppose. He was 43 when the film was shot (2000), but could easily have passed for someone ten years older. He is puffy-faced, decidedly shaky on his feet, and at times almost impossible to follow in conversation. (Having very few teeth left does not help him in this respect, of course, but he seems a bit, um, sleepy from time to time over the course of the film.) He gets off a good line here and there, though, and is quite charming when you can decipher what he's saying.

What was not at all charming was the reaction of some of the audience. Watching McGowan swigging from a large bottle of gin & hearing the hipsters behind me laughing at the freak show was just depressing. This guy was writing incredibly clever lyrics while most of these creeps were still shitting their Garanimals. I'm sure they'll be the same assholes pissing themselves behind Murphy's come St. Paddy�s Day, heaving their guacamole in someone's front yard on Cinco de Mayo and driving their SUV�s into oncoming traffic New Year's Eve. Fucking amateurs.

bmarkey 3/03/2003 08:17:00 PM