Integrating screenshots of Google Maps and using Flickr notes, Memory Maps are visual representations of one’s memories, an annotated satellite view of places steeped in personal meaning.
I found out about Memory Maps on Lifehacker, and decided it was worth a try. After all, I’ve had an interesting childhood, moving around to different countries, and so forth.
Check out my Memory Maps photoset on Flickr. The Memory Maps group is worth perusing as well.
I’ve been noticing a gradual souring of my demeanor. I’m more impatient, snippy, and bogged down with trivialities than I am when the weather is warm.
My mother told me that when I was born, the nurse brought me back into the room (this was Communist-era Russia, where they whisked off the baby immediately after delivery for some ridiculous reason) and said, “Now you know why they call them ‘black ass’,” before handing me to my mom. Evidently the nurse never saw the other side of me, because she would have likely fainted, as my cock is the blackest part of me (other than my dark, twisted personality, or course).
My mom never told me until relatively recently and it made me realize that I was the recipient of racism at birth.
It’s like a scar, you know? A fucking stain on the face of humanity.
Milwaukee musician Chris Vos, of Freshwater Collins and Erotic Adventures of the Static Chicken fame, recently had his equipment stolen. It’s like a stab in the heart when something like this happens. Musicians are rarely loaded with indispensable amounts of cash… and some crack head is probably trying to pawn off Chris’ hard-earned gear for another hit.
I’ve included the list of stolen stuff below, in case someone out there knows anything about this:
List of Gear Stolen: September 27, 2006
Any information please contact Chris Vos:
Phone:414-217-1100
Email: chris [at] freshwatercollins [dot] com
- 1-Black Tokai Hummingbird Electric Guitar, with Bigsby Tremelo System, Black and White striped Humbucking Pickups. Very unique, only guitar that will look like in existence, I had the Bigsby put on it and the zebra striped humbuckers.
- 1-Light Blue American Made, Fender Stratocaster with matching blue headstock… Very unique, with the blue headstock that matches the body color.
- 1-Light Blue Fender Lapsteel Slide Guitar from the 60’s. White Tuning Pegs, Serial number is “PAT Pending” Also, Very unique. White Tuners and Pat Pending are a dead giveaway.
- The Following Pedals were all on two homemade pedal boards. They may either appear together or separate.
- 1-Moog Murf MF105 and Expression Pedal with Tap Tempo Pedal attachment
- 1-Moog 12 Stage Phaser MF 103, and Expression Pedal
- 1-Electro Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man
- 1-Electro Harmonix Octave Multiplexer
- 1-Electro Harmonix Small Stone Phaser
- 2- Green RPG Overdrives, same color green as an old Tube Screamer
- 1- Boss DS 1 Distortion, Orange
- 1- Boss Chromatic Tuner Pedal, White
- 2- Morley A/B passive foot changer pedals
Last night, we went to see Sufjan Stevens at the Pabst Theater in Milwaukee. Interesting show in a lovely theater. Acoustics and sound reinforcement were excellent. The show itself was quite visual. He had something like 20 musicians on stage, all dressed up in butterfly costumes with wings. I’m still trying to figure out how to feel about the show. Part of my feelings have to do less with the music and more with my fellow audience.
I was irked by the lack of courtesy of the patrons. Many flash bulbs were going off in my vicinity, and it was not even remotely pleasant in a dark theater. As if taking a flash picture from the back of the theater has any hopes of illuminating the distant performers! Some people turned off their flash bulbs but kept their camera LCD screens on, which was even more distracting. The idiot sitting next to me was drinking bad wine (the mere smell was putting me to sleep), and was text messaging someone on his giant cellphone (equipped with full keyboard and sizable LCD). Why the fuck would you go to a concert if you’re going to spend even part of the time text messaging? At one point, after several flash bulbs annoyed me to all hell, I leaned over to him and said, “Sorry to bother you, but that’s bothering me.” He apologized and put it away. At least he wasn’t a prick about it. And for the rest of the show, no one took any flash pictures, at least no one around me.
People are so caught up in their fricking gadgets that they have no sense of courtesy. Or maybe people are just stupid assholes.
On a similar note, Wired News has a great article on the drawbacks of cell phone use.
I stumbled across several blogs that feature my pictures. I’ve listed them below:
I will see you soon, my old friend.
I was not impressed with The Lost City, Andy Garcia’s movie about Cuba. My biggest problem is the fact that it was done in English, and the occasional Spanish words, including Havana, were grossly mispronounced. A movie set in Cuba should be spoken en Español.
For some reason, the English was tough to understand. The fake accents were somehow unable to reach my brain. What I did digest, however, is the following bit of ancient wisdom:
The bird is in the beak
Edith is weak
The house in which Captain Beefheart held his poverty-stricken Magic Band virtually hostage for 8 months of Trout Mask Replica rehearsals is for sale. Priced at ~$850K, it is well beyond my price range. Bummer. I think it would be cool, magical place to live.
via BoingBoing | Positive Ape Index | Up Sifter
Last night I went to check out the Gipsy Kings at the Riverside Theatre in Milwaukee. What a cool show. Those guys really knew how to put on a good show. Six guitarists, three leftie, three rightie, and they looked very symmetrical. The musicians in the back row consisted of a drum kit player, a bassist, a percussionist (leather pants), and a keyboard player. Of the four, only the percussionist looked like he was a regular performer. The rest (keyboards, drums, bass) looked like they may have been session musicians filling in.
The Gipsy Kings put on a great presentation, and they really knew how to work the audience. After every song, the lead singer (a rotating role, using a centralized microphone) would take a bow, and then gesture loftily to the other musicians. All the motions were regal and elegant.
My one gripe about this show had nothing to do with the Gipsy Kings themselves. The Riverside Theatre had hired a completely incompetent sound engineer that night, as the sound really sucked. The bass drum was too loud, and too drenched in sub tones to allow the delicate upper-register instruments to shine. At one point, the bass player took a wicked solo, but I couldn’t hear a note. The sound tech had rolled off all the high frequencies of the bass, and every now and then you’d hear a fat splat of a low note, but nothing else. I could tell the bassist was sailing all over the place by his hand movements, and by the response that he got from the audience close to the stage.
All in all, great show. Bummer that the Riverside Theatre would bring a world class act and not step up accordingly.
