Okay, I'm not one to require you, my beloved readers of happiness, to do too much work to enjoy the fruits of Joe-Mammy.com, but this one is going bounce you around a bit.

First off, you need to download this track and have it play in the background.

Got it? Good. Step two you need to check this out:
The full story is available here, but here's a redacted version:

DALLAS -- A teacher is on paid administrative leave after sending a first-grader home with feces in his backpack because the boy went to the bathroom on the classroom floor.

The teacher apparently was frustrated with the 6-year-old student's actions so wrapped up the waste and sent it home with the boy Tuesday along with a note, Dallas school district spokesman Donald Claxton said.

Now, perhaps this is why I shouldn't be a teacher, but I don't think this is so bad. Barring any serious emotional or mental problems, if little Johnny drops trou in my classroom and leaves a log, you bet your ass he's taking that home. Parents love putting stuff on the fridge that their kids make in school, right? Well bust out the magnets, cuz Junior's got a winner today. You can't tell me with a straight face that the little nose-wiper accidentally defecated in class... in the middle of the classroom... on the floor...

As much as I respect the audacity to show your displeasure with the system by sharing a bowel movement with the rest of your fellow man, there's a difference than, for example, me taking care of business to protest some thing or another--that's civil disobedience because I know I'm gonna get arrested and I don't care. But little Oliver DaFleur thinking that he doesn't like spelling one day and spreading the love, one loaf at a time--that's setting a precedence. I for one wouldn't want to get stuck behind him at McDonald's when he doesn't get the Happy Meal toy he wants.

Hey kiddo, words to live by:
Poop in the potty. Poop goes in the potty.

-Joe

There is nothing funny.

There is nothing clever.

Except yogurt.

Funny, clever and delicious.

Mmmmm.

Yogurt.

-Joe

I'm on a tear. Don't expect this many posts normally (as if you did) but I'm feeling particularly bouncy this evening. Had a swell evening hanging out with drunk people and checking out Chris' pad (everyone say "Hi Chris") and twas sweet. Now that would've been a night for most people, but not for me.

Well, not tonight at least.

Anyway, got home, watched "The Secret Adventures of Tom Thumb" (finally ran across the copy Platypus Man scammed for me...) the whole while an idea was brewing away. Did a little browsing and such and began work on a new short story--my first science fiction piece. So far I'm digging it (I know, I always say that at this stage...) it's funny and probably more than a little twisted. Picture HAL from "2001" meet Jean-Paul Sartre. Listened to the tracks for the new album ("Someone, Anyone" and "32nd Street Bandwagon" sound better with each listen...) while I worked on it. I'll spill more when it's closer to done. Not sure how long it will be, but probably one of the shorter ones.

What do you get when you cross an alternator with a gerbil? Find out in the next Feature--coming soon.

And finally, just a bit of an appreciation. I dig me the Over the Rhine. "Good Dog, Bad Dog" is easily on my top ten list of all time (top five, at that...) and they continue to just be amazing and cool without seeming to try. The most recent letter from Linford pretty much embodies why I like the band--clever, charming, sly, innocent and effortless all at once. I've tried to get them to do a Feature, with no luck yet, but who knows? Maybe someday. In the meantime, check out the Store for some quality OtR goodies. Or just buy it directly from them. They probably get more money for it that way.

In honor of the rockingness that is Over the Rhine, I've included my remix of the eternally helpful "Poopsmith Song" on the NEP site. Go to samples and check the remixes. Should be right there at the top.

-Joe

Okay, I know, making fun of Britney Spears descent into the Michael Jackson sphere of pop star reality isn't much of a challenge. That being said, how can you not make a comment on her recent almost marriage to dancer boy? For the full story check out The Smoking Gun.

Now I can understand getting tired of messy prenuptial agreements and such. But the fact that negotiations have apparently stalled might indicate dancer boy might be looking for more than a lovely bride and eternal happiness. Yup, 'boy lookin' to get paid, yo.

Must be a rough gig. Sleep with Britney. Live with Britney. Leave Britney. Take Britney's money with you. Of course, I'm sure that his career as a background dancer is suffering immensely because of all the time he has to take out of his busy schedule to woo his fiance. That and I suppose he has to listen to her God-awful music. But does he really deserve compensation for it? I think when you ask to marry someone (especially if she buys the ring) you've pretty much released that party from bad-taste liability.

Note to Britney: while watching you publicly melt down has provided me no small degree of amusement (who needs satire when real life is funnier?) perhaps you should take a hint from the Spice Girls and go away for a while. Give your money to charity and move to Wyoming and get a job at a gas station or something. You know, figure out what it means to be a regular human being for a while. After reality has beaten you down and sucked your soul and will to live out of you like a stoner with a Big Gulp, you might be better equipped to handle the nefarious charms of background dancers.

More to the point, if it doesn't, I won't have to hear/read/see every ensuing chapter of your "Candide"-esque trip of naivete and disillusionment. That and you could sell me mid-grade gasoline and Icees. It's win-win.

-Joe

Well, I haven't meant to be neglecting you all, my beloved little webmonkeys. Joe has been busy and greatly so. At the moment I'm listening to the Cards game and working on a piece for the Birdhouse. All this after reworking the new track "Someone, Anyone" so it doesn't suck and getting the latest Feature rolling. (In case you're wondering, the track is sweet as the interview...)

So, on the ol' "To do" list left for the weekend:
1) Sleep more
2) Edit part one of "Softer, Shallow"
3) See "The Forgotten" (already saw "First Daughter" which only made me wish Katie Holmes was my girlfriend and not acting anymore...)
4) Probably drink a Coke or two.
5) Procrastinate a bunch of other stuff.

See? A jam-packed weekend of productivity all for you, my little e-stinkies...

-Joe

Well, I avoided having to do a reformat and things seem more or less as they were... with the exception of my file which seems to have given up the ghost. Fortunately, I think I've recreated it pretty well, if I do say so myself. With a little more time it should be more or less where it was before, which means I'm only about a day behind schedule. Which still sucks, but not as bad as having to scrap the entire freakin' thing.

Reviewed cover pictures with one Mr Rex Havoc and the boys (see previous post) and got it narrowed down enough for a certain Mr Platypus Man to hopefully concoct a good thing with. Of course, given the budget of the project I'm lucky he doesn't send me a Xerox of his middle finger, but so it goes.

Also, actually got the first part of "Softer, Shallow" edited and more or less ready to go. I'll need to do another edit to make sure my edits are, well, edited. Hopefully part one will show up on the ol' Fiction page soon enough.

Other happy news, I think I've (finally) got the next Feature lined up--and it's gonna be a dandy. Check back for details as I choose to make them available.

Well, back to the grind...

-Joe

Computer shall die!

Horribly!

Nuked the song and then began a swirling decent into metldown. Backing things up as I write.

Really wasn't woth the time getting up this morning, it seems.

I'm going to stop now for fear of breaking out more expletives than are really necessary.

Might be a while until the next post.

-Joe

Tired.

Writing in sentence fragments.

Prepositions all over.

Make me itchy.

It's almost poetry.

But unintentional.

Like crapping a Renoir.

Anyway.

Cards win NL Central.

Who's yer daddy now?

Lobbying for a new Feature. Will be sweet.

"Someone, Anyone" 3/4's done. Should be done tomorrow--or later today, depending on how you look at it.

NHL lockout continues.

Note to players/owners--go crap a Renoir.

Very very very very funny thing on Josh's blog. Actually link--look for Nickleback and download MP3. Too funny for words. Yet sad.

Cover work continues for book. More later.

I like cheese.

Beat Silent Hill 4.

Again: who's yer daddy?

Johnny Ramone died.

Very sad.

--especially with Britney still running loose.

'night.

-Joe

Ok, so a good portion of my day has been spent playing "Silent Hill 4" but it's a rockin game and I'm not apologizing.

There a number of things I need to touch on so I'll get movin'

First, here are some photos from the recent photo shoot for the cover of "All Things Right and Beautiful." Fortunately, it doesn't feature me, but the Devil Pups do feature prominently as well as a couple of new folks (more on them briefly)

l to r, Eric Mell (generous gear guy), Rod (Rex Havoc guy) and Joshua Miller (Not really Vernon, but playing him on the cover guy)

da Devil Pups

All together now...

So, I met Josh a little while ago through ol' Rex and he seems a decent enough fellow. I'm tracking his blog nowadays (it's on the right side with the other neat-o thingies) and he has probably the rockinest haiku ever:
If we are robots,
Then why do I feel like shit?
(Should feel electric.)

Yeah, that's the stuff. Rawk.

New song in the works, tentatively titled "Someone, Anyone" and, as always, different than anything else. Perhaps this album will be too schizophrenic for its own good *shrugs* who knows?

The Cardinals won their 95th game of the season--who would've thunk it? I've got a little thing at the Birdhouse commemorating the event. World Championship, here we come.

And finally, how hard does the NHL lockout suck? I know, most of you could give two monkey craps about it, but I likes me the hockey. It's a blue-collar game where fighting is allowed (yea!) as is full contact on ice. But it's still got skill and finesse. Or at least it did until they locked the players out and told, like MLB before them, the fans to kiss their lillywhite asses. And it's not just the owners and the league, but the players too. C'mon guys, you've got one of the most intense and fun games out there and you're going to screw it over eternally (unless somehow you get McGwire and Sosa in ice skates trying to break Gretsky's record, or something) and then no one gets paid. Think about it. Anyway. I'm off to work a bit more on lots o' stuff before enslaving myself for the weekend. Here's to paying bills, right?

-Joe

Just in case you thought that the universe was a cold and aimless place, here's a little something to warm your heart.
http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/09/09/shooting.dog.ap/index.html

Ok, maybe it doesn't warm your heart, per se, but it's hard not to not start jamming along with Primus' "Too Many Puppies" playing in your head...

-Joe

Apparently I was so tired last night that I failed to notice that the ol' Blog o' Eternal Cheekiness had hit the century mark. Needless to say, the blog got very upset and went to her mother's and I had to buy a buttload of flowers and candies and such just to restore a minimal amount of peace. Relationships are hard. And smelly. And probably fattening.

In either case, I'm feeling a tad more rested today, although not as significantly as I would have hoped. Just settin' down a spell to try and pump out a little literary goodness this evening and procrastinating on the week's movie reviews ("Wicker Park" is like a drive across eastern Wyoming--you spend two hours looking at nothing...). Think I'm doing a lil' bit of detoxing on the music. Still have some ideas bouncing around, but want to give 'em some time to develop (or spoil, I guess, depending on your point of view...) but still holding out hopes for an ultra-rough demo version to be ready by the end of the year.

I would like to comment on something, however. Perhaps I'm doing this whole "blogging" thing all wrong. Checking out my favorite blogs (Kari's and Michaela's...one I know, one I don't, whether that's relevant or not...) and I realize that pretty much everyone is much more revealing than I. Or more hip. Or, you know, regular. (not in the poop way...)

So, if you've come to Joe Mammy's Blog in hopes of finding a confessional, sadly you are going to be disappointed. In fact, I've never been much for the wearing my heart on my screen. Spilling all the horrible little details of my existence (which I'm sure there are many, although I'm sure they're also intensely boring...) just seems, well, too crass. Or at least crass in that I'd be absolutely no good at it and would therefore be playing to a Jerry Springer kind of ideal.

So, basically, if you're looking for insight into my personality, what my favorite color is, what kind of socks I wear, etc, you ain't a-gonna get it. I'm generally just as content to be relatively unknown aside from whatever work I choose to present. Even that sometimes can be unnerving. So perhaps this is an apology, or maybe a disclaimer, but I'm not going to bore you all with 99% of the crap that I have to put up with. Just suffice it to say that I have just as healthy a dose of reality as the rest of you and would be just as happy to be rid of it.

So, unless I think it's funny don't expect to see posts about true love, unrequited love, puppy love, Courtney Love, or anything other than my takes on the strange and the banal. That's where I think the interesting stuff is, anyway.

No word on the latest Feature. I suspect we may have the very first punt for Joe-Mammy.com. Oh well, even DiMaggio couldn't hit in 57 straight...

-Joe

Oy.

Been one of those weeks where it's been hard to get much of anything together. Gotten the reviews out and pieces together for the Birdhouse, but as far as my own projects I've been dragging. Maybe it's the weather; it has been strangely schizophrenic the last week or so and is cold again now. But no excuses.

Working on a new Birdhouse piece (tis kinda cool, methinks...) but I'm still in neutral on other stuff. I think I'm just going to have to dedicate my butt to this chair for a while and start pumping stuff out until it feels like it I'm getting somewhere. Whee. whee... Oy.

Working on getting some cover art together for a project that I'm very excited about (more when we're closer) but, as is often the case, schedules, times and energy have been working against us. In either case there are a number of things in the works, just nothing progressing.

Hurry up and wait.

Still no word on the next Feature. At this point I'm going to consider it likely shelved, but I'm working on the next one. As always, stay tuned, and don't forget to vote for the great Joe-Mamy.com commemorative stamp.

I should have a longer post tomorrow, but for now, let me just reiterate:

Oy.

-Joe

I know here at Joe-Mammy.com I've often stayed away from substantive posts about politics, right and wrong and the myriad of things that make this world frustrating. Granted I make fun of a lot of stuff, (which is similar, but not quite the same...) but seldom sit down and do a "this is how it oughta be" kinda thing.

This is one of those posts. Bear with me.

This week is the GOP national convention. It's essentially a gloating party four years in the making. The odd thing is that the GOP seems to be like the 40 year-old dating a pretty 20 year-old. He's got what everyone wants, but desperately keeps trying to find out if everyone else thinks he's still cool, or just old with a soon-to-be-ex girlfriend. It's representative of where we are as a nation and as human beings, I think.

We don't want to step on toes--or more to the point we want to ensure no one will step on ours. Now instead of going about it in a high-road kind of way (like, doing unto others as we would want done to us...) we legislate, negotiate and build structures to try and keep people from saying things we don't like. Or if they do, we make sure that there's a supervisor, agency or lawyer around to make sure they pay whatever personal or commercial price we can extract. A pound of flesh. No more, no less.

Instead of actually talking to someone about what they say, we back-door it and run to tattle that someone hurt our oh-so-precious feelings. We do it, so we say, not because we were in the right, but that it might be misconstrued by someone not as level-headed as ourselves, or just reflects badly.

You know, the great thing about America is that people have the right to be as wrong and as ignorant as they like. There is no "lowest common denominator" that we are allowed to appeal to (at least in theory) and as moronic, wrong-headed or demonstrably false something is, I'm not going to try and change your mind if you don't want it changed. I'll make fun of you. I'll critique your argument. I'll tell others I think you're full of crap, but I won't go crying to your mom, your boss, your priest or anyone else to make you stop. If I want you to stop, I'll ask you to stop.

We like to fight without actually fighting. We show that we have no respect for others by the fact we don't dare face them and instead send ominous threats by proxy. I'm not perfect, but I like to think that if it comes down to it, if you piss me off I'll tell you... personally. I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of much of anything, honestly. In "Animal Farm" George Orwell's allegory of the Bolshevik Revolution, there's a donkey named Benjamin who is ambivalent about the great moral crusade and progress of "Animal Farm." When prompted about why, his response is "Donkeys live a long time." That's more or less my stance: if you haven't seen all this before, you haven't been paying attention. Look at history, look at your own experience and use your head--there's nothing new under the sun, no matter how bad you think it is, there's been worse.

This was prompted by an individual I'll identify as A.B. (as well any number of things I see at work--which is a story for another time) who, in this case, took pot shots and then hid behind a larger structure/protocol. It's easier to say something and then hide behind something and say that they can't fire back, but in the end it's like picking a fight with Gandhi. Sure you can hit him. You can probably beat the crap out of him, but do you really feel like a man for beating down someone who you know isn't/can't fight back? Yeah, you show him, tough guy.

Which leads me into (hopefully) my only post about politics... ever. Those involved in politics whether you're Michael Moore, George W., Ralph Nader, or folks closer to home--you are all insane. This election has taken on a strange life of its own characterized by conflicting "moral crusades." It's us against them and God is on our side.

This idea of morally driven government was usually the stomping ground of the GOP who through around their traditionally based values (you know, like the corporation being treated like a person...) as an angry defiance of the soulless, Godless onslaught of anyone who wasn't them. It made them cartoonish and able to circle the wagons of people who would be otherwise horrified about, for instance, our brutal infant mortality rate or the continued disparity between the wages earned by women compared to men. Instead they got on the wagon of anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage and pro-"family values" (whatever that means, or would entail in enforcement is mercifully left out).

Now I've voted Republican in the past, and may again. Ultimately it's not because I think that they represent my moral interests but because historically they haven't been too interested in legislating good Samaritanism. I'm not a fan of additional mandated bureaucracy because its for my own good. I don't like being told what my own good is. Especially by someone who's never been to my state.

This year, however, the usual platforms for Democrats (health care, education, etc...) has been largely cast aside in favor of their own moral crusade. Hating George W Bush has taken a near-religious level of fervor by some because... well, in some cases, just because. Often the complaints are based on the standard "he lies, he doesn't care, he doesn't care when he lies" kind of political gripes. To which I'd only like to say Welcome to Real Politik.

Are we in denial that such Machiavellian schemes have been in operation since the dawn of time? Do we actually think that Bush is the only one who's done it, or that he's even the worst? More to the point, what planet are you from that would suggest that anyone else is going to be any better. It's a moral crusade that's solely descriptive while pretending to be prescriptive. The only answer is "get rid of Bush" although I haven't seen anyone state that any possible replacement is going to be any better.

If you've got Bush figured out, then here's my advice: don't be fooled any more. You might not like "business as usual" in Washington, but it's going to continue regardless of who's there. Donkeys live a long time.

So next time you're inclined to yell at someone for being "one of them" remember, the only person saying that they're one of "them" is you. It's easier to group folks in a pile than to actually think, "hey, there are people all over the spectrum and by grouping every last soul who doesn't agree with me into that other category makes me a Nazi." Yup, nothing like the happy roots of fascism jumping up inside your "progressive" world view, is there? Trust me, we've all been there. Next time you're looking to morally condemn someone for not agreeing with you (unless it's along the lines of disagreeing with "torturing babies is bad") take a deep breath and repeat after me:
Donkeys live a long time.

-Joe

Well another day down. Not exactly if I'm getting closer to something or just further away from something else. Interesting way to think about it, no?

And I'm listening to music on the ol' computer and the words "Poop in the potty, poop goes in the potty" are being repeated over and over. It's strangely cool. I just might post my remake of said track one of these days. But not today. Today is for sleeping.

And not to be a lackey for The Smoking Gun, but:
http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0831041_photostamps_1.html

Personalized stamps. What a wonderfully horrible idea. Although I'm tempted to make a special edition run of Joe Mammy stamps. In fact, let's do this right: what should be on the Joe-Mammy.com stamp? Let your voice be heard! May Democracy rule! Speak to me! The winning stamp design will be announced right here and for a nominal fee (ie, cost of the stamp) you can get a personalized Joe Mammy postcard with the stamp and a personal message from yours truly right on it.
Choose from:
Cecil
Devil Pup 1
Devil Pup 2
Joe hissownself
Cute Joe
or Flying Baby (from the intro...)

Rock the Vote, kiddies, and remember, as much as it might seem silly, your vote counts... until we establish the Joe-Mammy.com electoral college.

-Joe