27 September 2008
Some e cards from a silver jew
Some e cards from a Silver Jew is a great new tumblr log. The premise of the site is contained in its title.
16 September 2008
08 September 2008
30 June 2008
B. Michael's Notebook Miscellany
If you're interested in reading anything else by me, then I advise you to go here, which is where I'm posting now.
I stopped using Blogger because the links and photos functions were all wonky. (Although, this issue looks fixed now; ironic.)
25 January 2008
The Streets Is
I'm a pretty bookish person: I hve an m.a. from a socallwd great books program, love pens and notebooks and whatnot, and I even read a lot kinda. More thAn zero-to-one per year. Buuuuut. I mean I love joyce; know how to use a semicolon; and I'm applying to philosophy phds. Bit damn dog. Im holding the future in my hands
I love me some music. And the Internet. And I'm usually late ony phone bill. So you see where I'm going this? The fucking iPod touch straight owns! Like no shit. I fail to see why I'd ever need to open a book again. I can listen music, look at shit on the internet, blog bay blah bah. This experience is way I'd fuck more entertaining than reading is. Its me fun than it was meant to be.
Good thing I like reading and books and whatnot. But I'd be willing to wager that a lot most even people don't share my interest in reading. And so this development I'd even more pernicious be because even though I can resist the siren song of the umpc (ultra mobile p c) I dont see such resistance gaining intersubjective validity. Gbye books hello frivolity.
I for one blame frivolous books: comedy central authors, bad mysteries, reading the romance. Waste makes waste.
20 January 2008
Trees One
This shit is what the shit I am talking about when I talk about the New Mexico light. The "Fabled New Mexico Light (tm)" is what makes the trees look like they're on a goddamn movie set. Maybe that's why companies come to this state to film: Because it looks like we goddamn for fuck's sake invented lighting.
16 January 2008
Country Sad Ballad Man
Over at Blastings! Thrilledge, our former ex-bff observes that
A lot of calculations and projections are necessary to prove anything,
which is as useless a thing as you're likely to read in the Internets these days. It's like saying, "Everyone agrees that the best way to convince someone of something is to make them agree with you," a double x double quadruple whammy if there ever were one. (There's not.)
This statement, which starts off a generally un-statty post (which we like over here) is the calling card of the whole troubled modern statistical movement in baseball. If the sports writers would just look at Burt Blyleven's numbers, man, then it would be clear to them that... Well it's not clear. And no matter how much data you sling, you're never going to convince anyone. Or, as Ben said to Jack back in season two, I don't want you to do the surgery. I want you to want to do the surgery. You have to change the whole worldview, not merely change a few data points. You have to make them want to want the data.
Thinking men from Plato to Kant to Wittgenstein (and even that baseball Nietzsche Yogi Bera saw this one) have seen through the sham simplicity of the naive worldview, a myth. If you're a Platonist, the formal world that is the real source of real meaning (wtf!?, right? What is that even like?) is the operative thing-like thing that most people miss out on when they're looking at the world. Or, the imaginative faculty that unifies the manifold of apperception (if you're Kant), is what makes the world make sense. Or the grammatical hinge propositions that structure your form of life, say Wittgenstein, are the things that give it meaning. The source of meaning, though, not to be an irrealist, is not the world itself, but rather the unique and capricious interplay of other peoples' worlds (i.e., intersubjective validities) with your own meaning-structure. And the Sabremetrician virgins living in their moms's basements eating the Doritos etc., etc. always fail to grasp (well not that FJM, master of irony) that most people remain impervious to the convincifying powers of numbers. Numbers numb us.
It's like saying that America spends X dollars per minute, which dollars could stretch to the moon and back five times. That doesn't mean anything to most people. And saying someone is worth x wins above replacement (it's a simple concept, but so is not smoking drain cleaner and pseudofed) fails to mean anything to most people. But watching Derek Jeter make one scraptastic, jumping-all-over-the-fucking-place, limited-ranged catch and putaway sticks in the mind. That's why analysts are fond of saying that seeing a guy play every day is an advantage w/r/t analyzing the game. It's not, if you're statistically inclined; but to the observer, the way he makes sense of it all is to remember certain special moments, and file the rest away (in the circular file). It's the same reason why ex-players sort of suck as coaches or general managers or whatever. They tend to universalize the few particular events that happened to them, and take this specific-universal knowledge as their starting point for analysis and decision making. Which, to the egghead stat doofus, is a poor way to go.
But while the pocket-protector-wearing, slide-rule-using populace fails to outnumber the red-blooded, girl-fucking majority, that's just how it will be.
Pinkeye Dough Be
Just wait. Pretty soon some original cartoons/webtoons will be uploaded in this space. I just made one up. Just now, in between typing the "p" and "a" in "space." It's that easy.
15 January 2008
Manny Acta's tragicomic Selfsameness
This sort of thing has already been covered in FJM, but since I promised to make this a sports blog, let's look proceed. Squawking Baseball interviewed Nats manager Manny Acta last year. He had something good to say.
Funny LOL Ha Ha
So this one here, this photo above. It's a joke, get it? The kids might get to play some structured 5-on-5 or NBA Jam-esque 3-on-3. But when you're just fucking around looking for a game? No Kids Allowed. "Parent Pickup Only."
13 January 2008
Stronger Better Faster Longer
The Colts might just be the luckiest team ever to win a Super Bowl. The Manning family sucks qua QBs.
11 January 2008
The Critic Is Always Right
The whole point is not to secure objectivity but to explain it. Which is to say, to drop the ism and just be "real."
05 January 2008
30 December 2007
Dog Park
29 December 2007
TO BE CONTINUED... (CON'T!)
We're gonna start posting again REAL SOON. Like, real soon. Just think about one thing: Why these days are there so many slobby, non-executives waiting in the Starbucks line while typing away on their Blackberries? Viz., why do so many people have Blackberries? People who obviously fail to need MS Exchange support; who don't have meetings; who email each other pictures of cats? We dunno and we don't get it. It's a modern Zen koan.
09 December 2007
TLP
There's a certain sense of isometry in Wittgenstein between language and thought. So isn't it curious when he says in the introduction to the Tractatus that, "What can be said at all can be said clearly, and what we cannot talk about we must pass over in silence," which he then follows up by saying something to the effect of that we cannot speak what we cannot think because this would be to get outside the boundary of thought. But, doesn't the "what we cannot talk about," and the fact that we must pass it over in silence, doesn't that imply that we think of something, proposition P, say, and that we must then decide that proposition P is something about which we cannot speak, like, say that "that sunset is absolutely the greatest thing we've seen all day!"
01 December 2007
30 November 2007
Lastings Milledge, the National Pastime, and Finding Relief in Solitude
28 November 2007
This Is the Best Workout Mix Ever
24 November 2007
Should We punch people on the Nose?
Well you move on and all those feelings stay where they were. They were the product of your particular age-location feeling-matrix. They aren't you now; they were you then. And maybe you're a pussy, but you think maybe you were wrong. And you can't just go punching people on the nose all the time because they'll throw you in jail with all the pederasts and gruel cadgers. And anyway, everything was pretty good then. You still loved bands, and books were nice and smelled like novelty. And people never asked you about New Age topics; and metaphysics was something Aristotle wrote about. But when you did read Aristotle, you were lectured by professors; tutors didn't moderate a bullshit discussion. Because that shit is some brokedown, poor excuse for an education. And fuck that. They're all great books, so you can go to hell, too.
In concussion: we here at IDFNBGAW think you should go punching people on the nose. And Santa Fe, you're next.
23 November 2007
21 November 2007
Facebook = Real Fucker, Funny as Well
However, and this is a big "however," facebook can be pretty funny, too. While we tried (kind of unsuccessfully) to create an official IDFNBGAW profile, we had to fill in one of those "I'm not a spambot" word verification boxes.
20 November 2007
OS X 10.5 Leopard Review Metaview
The Worst Blogger Ever
Some of you may know him as the curator of Blastings Thrilledge, a blog devoted (slavishly, fellatio-ly even) to Lastings Milledge, a third-tier scrub prospect of the New York Metropolitans/rapper.
Some of you may ask, "Why is this person the Worst Blogger Ever?" and that's a valid question. Some of you may even say, "He seems like quite the fledgling naturalist; and we all know that naturalists are all-right fellows."
Well we at IDFNBGAW are here to remind you of Darwin--God-hating, monkey-loving Darwin. He wasn't an all-right fellow, now was he? No: He killed God and had sex with monkeys. And this blogger is cut from the same cloth!
Here you can see the blogger cradling a pretty little butterfly in his hand. Quite the speculative naturalist, right? This touching shot seems to convince you that he cares about the butterfly, and that, therefore, he is a good person--and by extension a good, i.e., not the Worst Ever, blogger.
And then only moments later, he crushes the butterfly like the Satan-loving naturalist bastard he is. And that, QED, is why this man is the Worst Blogger Ever.
Rookie of the Year, Best New Blog
Best New Blog = IDFNBGAW!
We couldn't resist, so we took this "screen grab" with our camera phone.
A quick explanatory note. All images on IDFNBGAW (except where noted, i.e., the header picture) are taken by us--c'est nous--on our camera phone. These beauties are property of us here at IDFNBGAW.
So here's a song from Ween's latest album, The Cockroach. We find it reminiscent of that fine tune "You Fucked Up," with a dash of "It's Gonna Be a Long Night." And speaking of "dashes," how much is a dash? We've been getting into Manhattans around here, which call for a dash of bitters. (It's not a Manhattan if you don't dash in the bitters, obvs.) So sometimes we put in, like, three or four shakes; and other times we put in just, like, one or two. It all tastes basically the same because we use that $8 rye that you pick up at the gas station. But for sake of argument, how much is a dash? Or a jigger? What the fuck. Are bartenders like 15c. sovereigns who got to make up units of measurement by means of whim and fancy? "Oh, an Earl will be the length of my big toe. And 3 Lancastshires shall be the amount of time it takes my dogs to run down a fox." Is that how the bartenders came up with their ridiculous measures? "Dude, I bet you won't drink a jigger of my piss!" "How did you come up with Jigger?" "Well, after I took a leak, I jiggered my dick off into this little cup, and that's how much a jigger is!" I bet that's how the jigger was invented. Anyway, yeah.
19 November 2007
Rookie of the Year, Best New Blogger
17 November 2007
Rookie of the Year, Best New Dog
Thurston is what we like to call a Santa Fe Heeler. He features distinctly washedout burnt sienna coloring;
large multi-plane independent pivot ears; and an eye patch.
shanked a man in prison.
He loves to loaf, but he can hang a triple double, 60
fantasy point week on you at any moment.