Well, welcome to 2005. New Year's Eve signifies, for me at least, the beginning of two months of having to scratch out '04 from every stupid thing I write and replace it with '05.

So what do I have to say about '04, you ask? A couple things:

2004: I kicked a lot of ass this year. Check out the various sections of ye olde website and realize that Jan 1, 04 this was more or less a plan jotted down on a piece of paper with a couple of reserved domain names and nothing more.

Check out the Features page and browse through the rockin' bunch of folks who donated a little of their time and energy to share their thoughts with yours truly for your enlightenment and amusement.

And another year of watching crap movies and a few good ones and writing down my observations to hopefully keep you all from having to sit through "From Justin to Kelly" or whatever the latest movie train wreck is.

It also marked the year that All Things Right and Beautiful was completed. (Now, '05 is the year it takes the world by storm...) lilies of the field was also more or less finished, but due to some software glitches and the untimely (or poorly timed, more accurately) illness of a keyboard and a drum machine, will be delayed for a polished version. A book and an album in a year period accompanied by a number of short stories is nothing to sneeze at. Especially for a poor working schlub by myself.

And through it all I've had the support of some damn fine people who helped me plow through this first year. And, as always, good folks are always deserving of a mention so here they are, in no particular order:

Ms. Kari
Dust
Rod (Rex Havoc)
Brent, Adina and Family
da Folks
Jason and Jennelle
Ray and Brian at the Birdhouse
Christophe der Soul Stealer
Young Squire Josh
Ka-Reestee
Mr. Bill
G'Root
The Chad
the guy who put together the "Slow Ride" commercial for Hardee's
Mikey
Skeeyot
Virgil and Bea, the Devil Pups
All our Featured Guests: Joe R Lansdale, Tess Wiley, Jamie Hyneman, Chris Null, Dan B, Ray Mileur and Ben Fritz, Bryan Keefer & Brendan Nyhan.
Mac Barnett (whoever you may be) for liking "Dinnertime"
the St Louis Cardinals for kicking ass all season (and most of the postseason)
and WTF... well, then again, not you cuz you're a dumb doodyhead.

I won't draw this out much longer other than to say that I'm dubbing "B.P.D." by Over the Rhine as the Joe-Mammy.com official song of the year and to thank all of you who drop by. There's more in store in '05 (now if it were '04 that would be all rhymey and stuff, like a festival tagline--but I'm above that...) and hopefully some notable developments on the way within January that will set the stage for a kickin 2005.

-Joe

Just a quickie for the Mammy faithful.

I've been intermittently fighting with software for most of the evening. Making a little headway, but not much. Whee.

Anyway, in honor of the drinkiest of holidays (apologies to all of you St Patty's folk...) here's a little something to encourage moderation. Enjoy.

-Joe

Well, one whole day off and sounds like I'm back to the grind. Probably just as well, I'm king of the aggravated folks this evening. First off, Dust in his eternal kindness gave me a buttload o' DVD's for Christmas which was nice after sitting through "Fat Albert" and "Meet the Fockers" and then I realized that my remote for my DVD player has gone MIA.

I also had to run some gear into ye olde repair shoppe, which means, sadly, Jan 1 isn't going to happen for lilies of the field, sorry. If it's any consolation I'm probably more disappointed than you. I haven't had any time for writing in the last week to speak of, either, so I continue to be frustrated on a number of levels.

Anyway, hopefully this weekend I'll have some time to get stuff together, although historically this is the week that I do my big "Best of/Worst of" thing which ends up taking up a good chunk o' time. That and I owe the Birdhouse something clever and intelligent. I'm screwed.

The lone bright spot is that a CD I ordered showed up and I'm currently enjoying the nifty sound of one Psyche Oragami which is right kickin' if I do say so. "The Station Agent" was on too, so not all is suck.

-Joe

I haven't laughed this hard in months.

Instant classic.

-Joe

You know, I can't make this stuff up even if I really tried.

First, I see the ad on tv telling me that my kids(!?!) need to know that I have a plan in case of a terrorist attack. Now warning children not to take candy from strangers, to look both ways before crossing the street or not to eat yellow snow is practical, hands-on and helpful information. Giving them steps to deal with an angry jihadist, well, not so much. So, I check out the governments website on the subject.

Now the site is pretty straightforward, uninspiring and dull--a good old fashioned government website. But at the bottom they feature a link to FEMA for Kids. What I found there will be a cornucopia of laughing material for years to come. Children are greeted by their host, a hermit crab (please, no laughing or knowing ironical nods until after the presentation is complete...) who invites the kiddies to check out, among other things states currently receiving disaster assistance, what to do in case of a national security emergency (terrorist attack) that included a couple of medicated looking children happily skipping their way through a story about terrorism (below), a rap done by what sounds like an office temp, and the Disaster Math game--combining fear of disaster and attack with the fear of academic failure.



What is wrong with people? Like developing Robbie and Julia the morphine twins is going to help kids understand the unexplainable? I'm sure they mean well but what do they hope to accomplish by explaining to children what a "dirty bomb" is? We might as well sit 'em down with a 1/5 of Jack, a pack of Marlboro Red's and a stack of porn and abolish childhood as soon as possible at this rate. It's funny and it's sad all at the same time. All we need now is to return the old "duck and cover" drills in public schools and we've pretty much regressed 50 years. Who still likes Ike? I know you're out there...

BTW, "Shaun of the Dead" kicks ass.

-Joe

Okay, I wasn't going to post, but I saw this and had to.

Either this dude is my hero or he's the guy that I hide the kids from. It could go either way.

Not too much here. Work on the novel continues... slowly.

Movies coming out of orifices I didn't know they had and I work all Christmas.

Yippe-Ki-Yay,

-Joe

Well it was a rare day here in Mammyland. I didn't get as much done this weekend as I had hoped, but I did get a chance to have a good sit down face-to-face with one Mr. Ray Mileur (look for his second interview coming sometime after the New Year...) which was quite cool.

It was one of those rare instances where something comes together quite nicely. I'd found Ray's site, the Birdhouse while looking for information on the Cardinals and after an interview and few letters, they asked me if I wanted to write for them (or they didn't run away screaming when I volunteered. I don't remember exactly which it was...) and so starting in June I began plopping down little Mammygrams with regularity.

Well, lo and behold it turns out Ray has family in my corner of the tundra and, as things would go, he came to visit them over the weekend. So this afternoon and evening we got a chance to "meet" for the first time and talk about a whole range of stuff. Twas fun and nice. About time this season actually acted as such, IMO.

And holy crap, we landed Mark Mulder. How did I miss that?

No chance to work on tuneage so far and I'm not holding out much hope. Jan 1 is teetering, but we'll play it by ear. Got an intro to the novel done last night. Now all I have to do is write the rest...

-Joe

Christmas came early for Joe.

Joe got a digital camera.

Tis kinda neat.

Here's where the magic happens:


Who's yer daddy?

-Joe

'Sup, my happy little funk noggins?

The holiday season is in full force. I can tell because people are wearing silly red and green sweaters with alarming regularity and the most horrible music is being piped in everywhere. Yessiree, it's time for all of us to sit back and reflect on paid vacation days all clustered together in a wonderful confluence of football, food and free stuff. In other words, it's like Labor Day, only colder, longer with a big buffet and more relatives.

Perhaps I'm too cynical. Of course cynicism is the logical result of having Christmas cheer force-fed to you from 3rd week in October on. I don't even like the same music that I choose from October 19th-January 2nd. Marketing people are stupid. Stupid and richer than me, making them stupid and assholes. Come, let us collectively crap on their lawns in a primeval show of disdain.

Work on the new novel is actually halfways gearing up meaningfully. I've introduced 3 characters--an as-yet nameless narrator in the present and Brooks Monte and his pal Rube in 1978 (give or take). It's not much, but it's a start.

Software problems persist and Jan 1 for lilies of the field might be asking too much. I'll know more by the end of this weekend, but at the least I'm looking at a few hours of fighting with software to get it what it's supposed to do without me fighting with it. It's like customer service without the minimal relief of an undervalued paycheck. But once it's a go, I have one re-record and some splicing and editing which, in a perfect world, could be more or less accomplished in a day or two of work.

Other than that I got the privilege of spending three hours sitting in a vet's office waiting to learn what I already suspected--Bea has a bronchial thing and needs antibiotics. Three hours. For that. It's a metaphor for life--you spend hours waiting to find out what you already suspect/fear is the case--and then you have to pay for it.

In all fairness the vet was good. Better than my last couple encounters with regular people-type doctors. Anyone else like being talked down to? I know I treasure it when a doctor speaks to me like I'm 4 about my illness/injury/complaint as if somehow I'm personally unable to comprehend the ramifications of my infirmity. This is ironic since my grasp of the ramifications or concern about them correlates directly to my presence in a doctor's office. I thank WTF, but in fairness I don't think I've ever been particularly fond of hospitals and the like and, contrary to what seems to be a popular professional interpretation, I have things I'd rather do than pay $100/hr (at a 15 minute hour, I might add) to be ignored until a nurse and then doctor come swooshing in to look at me skeptically and speak at me with incandescent levels of boredom. If I wanted that kind of response I'd start dating again, which, unless I'm a total chachi, will be cheaper than $100/hr (at, again, a 15 minute hour...)

Almost makes me wish I could be plumber so the next time a urologist or some damn thing calls to get their sewer unplugged I could stand there nodding apathetically to everything they described and then condescendingly tell them what the problem really is and how I'm going to charge them $100/hr (starting with their ignorant description of the problem--with, of course, a 15 minute hour...) to take care of what they should've known better to prevent. Too bad I couldn't involve an insurance company just so they'd have to screw with co-pays and stuff.

I don't hate all doctors, but I don't especially like most doctors, either. And I haven't seen one since the infamous burrito night o' fun some months back. But I thought I'd rant for a while so my blog looked "lived in." I consider my work here to be done now.

Check this out if you feel particularly underwhelmed by my work.

Neater news is pending...

-Joe

Sorry it's been so long, baby. I know I said I'd call before this, but you know how it is, baby girl. I'm a playa. Playa, playa baby, but you know you always be my #1.

I'm such a dork.

Anyway, I spent the last few days cleaning. A lot. And then I tried to fix my vacuum. A lot. And it sucked (in the metaphorical sense). Again, a lot. But my DVD's are back in order, more or less, and a good portion of my living space is once again presentable to the outside world. I also managed to see "Christmas with the Kranks" (prompting another "what did I ever do to you?" directed at the Hollywood movie making machine) and "Ocean's Twelve." Reviews are forthcoming, but not done at the moment.

I bought me some chocolate milk because I might not be a little kid, but it's right tasty stuff and I'm not apologizing for it. Anyway, it expired on Christmas day. There was something strangely comforting or poetic about that. I'm sure if I think about it, it'll just end up being stupid, but at the moment I'm happy to sit back and think that the fact my consumed chocolate beverage would have died on Christmas from old age.

I'm not a big holiday person, but nonetheless I'm willing to say that Blog entries notwithstanding, Joe-Mammy.com is going to be gearing down until after the big holiday is over and gone. So, the Ray Mileur interview (who I get to meet in person in a week or so--how much ass does that kick?) will be up probably at the front end of '05 as well as some long-awaited bits of Mammy merch including a special surprise that should serve to delight and amuse you all for generations to come.

I've tried to work on polishing lilies of the field but my software currently hates me again. It worked fine for 2-3 days and now decides that apparently I'm unworthy to wield it. In either case, Jan 1 is still looking like a possibility if I can get it up and running properly. Not sure what form I'll make it available in, but if I do decide to get a semi-official package together we're probably looking at Feb for consumption date. If not. Well, if not, Jan 1.

Well, sadly, that's about it for me. More when/if it actually happens...

-Joe

I had this thing. Let me explain:

I have these little dialogues that play out in my head. Not between, like, voices or the Devil or Jesus or anything potentially indicating that I'm not mentally competent to stand trial (unless of course I'm being asked to stand trial, in which case I'm nuttier than a wagon full of pralines...) but little scenarios that I set up and just work out. It's a precursor to writing stuff. It gives me an opportunity to develop a personality and idiosyncrasies for a character before I actually have to commit it to paper. I'd like to think it's completely natural.

Anyway, I had one last night (or more accurately this morning) that was funny and insightful and clever and crisp. Damn was it crisp--just kept coming without bogging down in silliness. I thought to myself "Maybe I should write this down before I forget it" to which I replied to myself (and for the record this is a completely different form of internal dialogue than the scenario thing...) that it was already after 8 in the morning and I need to get to sleep and that since the whole thing was so crisp and clean and catchy (it was catchy, too...) there's no way I'd forget it. If anything a night's sleep would only help reinforce the whole thing.

Yeah. Great idea slick.

The only thing I remember is that it was between me (or a first-person character) and someone very similar to a certain female author who will remain nameless. And that there were clever things about the meaning of life and God and stuff. You know, the small issues.

Stupid sleep patterns.

On the bright side I watched some TV tonight and realized that, in fact, Poppy Montgomery is probably the outright hottest thing on television today. So what if she can't handle the accent very well? TV is such a wasteland, but that doesn't mean there aren't some piece of natural beauty floating around in it here and there.

Anyway, work is commencing on the novel and possibly some tweaking with "Second, First" but I don't want to get ahead of myself. Something constructive about something is going to happen. At least there's a 75% chance that it's going to happen...

-Joe

So you ask yourself, "What's going on in Mammyland?"

The quick answer: not much, really.

I did finally get the Ray Mileur interview put together and edited. I should have it off to Dust in the next day or so. When it will hit the website, well, your guess is as good as mine. But rest assured I'll keep you all posted. In the meantime it might be a good time to drop by the Features page and recheck some of the high-quality interviews with Chris Null, Ray, Tess Wiley, Jamie Hyneman, Joe R. Lansdale, Spinsanity and Otherpower. It's good stuff Maynard--good for your brain. Obey the brain!

Other than that, I've been procrastinating further on the novel, although it is started (for the 4th time thanks to bad media and poor timing...) and starting, however, to tentatively plod forward. I know, promises, promises.

On the bright side there's also been a little preliminary work done on a rerecord of "Second, First" and with some tweaks and adjustments it's already sounding a lot more promising (whod've thunk it?) but no time frame on when I'll work on it again. Basically the Jan 1 original date is sounding most realistic at this point for any semi-polished version.

I've got a couple bits o' news, but I'm going to save them for a grandiose announcement (you know me, I'm a sucker for the broad stroke) that will hopefully be made soon. Until then, here's a little ideal I stole from Michaela's site. I know, I'm still a dirty thief...

20 years ago I was
-Much shorter.
-Waiting for dad to break down and buy a color television.
-Wishing an airplane turbine would fall from the sky (ala "Donnie Darko") and land on Mrs Johnson, who arguably, had it coming...

15 years ago I was
-Still shorter, but taller than 20 years ago.
-Officially in my five year "awkward" stage.
-Convinced that in fact western civilization had reached its pinnacle with "Dr. Who."

10 years ago I was
-Back to my hometown after living with a drug dealer wannabe. It was about as fun as it sounds.
-Fitter. Happier. More productive.
-Very young--contrary to what I believed at the time.

5 years ago I was
-Bad place.
-Wrapping up what would be the final Phase album, "Who Loves Ya?".
-Did I mention bad place? Let's all flip-off WTF, shall we?

1 Year ago I was
-Laying the groundwork for the on-line monument to rocking you see before you today.
-Still believed that "Angel" would be back this season and that I'd have more than two shows I watch on a regular basis.
-Wrapping up All Things Right and Beautiful.

So far this year I have
-Kicked more ass before noon than most people do in a year.
-Talked to Jamie Hyneman and got him to appear on the website. Ditto for Joe R Lansdale, and Tess Wiley, and Ray Mileur, and...
-Finished All Things...
-Got the little website off the ground
-Began, worked on and (hopefully) finished lilies of the field
-Became a writer for the Birdhouse (and haven't been asked to leave yet...)

Yesterday I
-Ate many, many fajitas (fahk-hitas...)
-Hung with the Devil Pups
-Tried to convince The Chad to check out "Blade: Trinity"
-Watched a news report about a young man who's going to jail for a long, long, long time.

Today I
-May actually convince The Chad to check out "Blade: Trinity"
-Go grocery shopping
-May read some more in the book of essays that amuse and annoy me simultaneously
-Will, honest to God, work on the new novel

Tomorrow I
-Will have to work
-Probably won't get a chance to write
-Will likely think the whole Lindsay Lohan lip-sync scandal is as boring and anticlimactic as it really is. In the meantime, I'll probably just think it's amusing in a very minor "fat guy falling down or getting kicked in the nads" kinda way.

Lates,

-Joe

To the one and only Amy Acker.

And yes I'm acknowledging her primarily because I think she's hot. Deal with it.

-Joe

Dust fired me this. It's funny. It's fun. It's ballerinas being squashed and eaten. Only good karma comes from things like this.

Well, the reformat/install/time of hair pulling and gnashing of teeth is essentially at an end. I've got the system upgraded, 90% of the old software reinstalled and at this point, everything is functional. It could have been worse. A lot worse (this isn't my first time on this merry-go-round) so huzzah and such.

I'm going to work on the novel when I finish here, but I wanted to touch base with you all and say a brief howdya do.

I'm reading a book of essays now. I don't read books of essays much because, deep down, a selfish bastard who usually doesn't care what others think or feel about most subjects and even less when I disagree with them. Hey, at least I'm man enough to admit it. So I've been reading these essays and in a lot of things I'm in agreement with the author and a lot of things, well, they seem to be there solely to rally the troops and get encouraging nods from fellow believers. Ironically the myriad of praises at the beginning of the book all praise this author's ability to unify and give insight in a folksy nice kind of way.

I'm not seeing it. Not that I'm an expert in things "folksy" but I know a lot of folksy people and they don't talk like that. They tend to be much more indifferent, live and let live, but when a response is evoked it tends to be reactionary and a little mean-spirited. Probably the most offending section (as far as being not folksy, not as far as offending me because I'm still indifferent/live and let live--in my best "I wanna be folksy" kinda way...) was this particular author's impish glee at the destruction of all things religious. Now I'm gathering that from her tone, she doesn't come out and make snide comments about Mohammed or the Bhagavad-Gita, it's primarily limited to the forms and flavors of Judeo-Christianity, but she doesn't seem impressed with the whole set of things relating to a higher power, essence or deity.

I don't blame her on a lot of levels. I actually like religion in a lot of ways. Not in the genocide kind of ways, mind you. But there is a degree of comfort I take in the fact that there are tenants out there that say "this is wrong, it will always be wrong and no matter how much you want to include everyone, be their buddy and enjoy your differences, it'll still be wrong and it needs to be dealt with." I also like the line in the book of Daniel that "by peace [he] shall destroy many." If we've learned nothing in the past 228 years of the grand political experiment called America, it should be that "Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security."

The snobbish nihilism of modernity bores me with its false fatalism and pretense of human goodwill in the same way iconography, crusades and the belief in human weakness irks folks on the other side of the fence, I suppose. But that "you're okay; I'm okay" mentality that seems to embrace everything in theory and dislikes so many things in practice is the indication of our desire to change every damn thing for "light and transient causes." In America we have to wonderful right (as I've mentioned before) to be ignorant, stupid and selfish. We can be wrong at will and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it. Sadly our country seems to becoming a very large corporate setting where, in fact, we can only be wrong if we follow a stringent set of pre-arrange guidelines that avoid: the use of religious language, language that might be thought of as disparaging to any particular interest group (young, old, minority--and by minority I mean any group that thinks its smaller than the large faceless, nameless and apparently insurmountable WASP bloc of humanity that agrees on everything and votes, thinks, acts, speaks in a single, unified voice... kinda like the Borg.) language that does anything less that over-compensate for any historical wrong (perceived or factual) to said party, language that acknowledges the fact that there is a corporate policy in place naming said party as a said party, jokes involving tits and anything bad about John F Kennedy. Basically you can talk about the weather in Greenland (as long as "Greenlanders" aren't mentioned) and the consistency of oatmeal (as long as you're absolutely sure it was made by a middle-age white Methodist male).

I haven't told you much about my background because I don't think it's very important, but I'm not 100% white guy. If I wanted to wave some sort of "the white man screwed my people" flag, I could, but what's the point? Germans got screwed by the treaty of Versailles. Scandinavia was bitch-slapped around by any number of other powers throughout their history. Russia, well, Russia was very good at screwing itself. France was the hybrid--screwed by themselves, Russia and the Germans a number of times. Poland is in a state of perpetual screwedness. Does that mean that the poor folks in Belgium who were rolled over by Nazi Germany can complain that the white man (or weiss man, I suppose...) is responsible for everything wrong with them? I know it's different, but who among you expects everything to run smoothly? Stand up so the person directly next to you can slap you upside the head. There is an axiom that proves right time and time again: if someone wants to hate you, they'll find a way to do it.

It's not your fault. But next time you get cut off in traffic try to refrain from blaming a mysterious system of institutional hatred. Shit happens. It happens a lot, actually. And the sooner you get used to that idea, the smoother your life will go. I'm not saying not to try and correct what's wrong. On the contrary, if you don't get hired for a job because you're black, Asian, native, Paraguayan or whatever, that's stupid and despicable. On the other hand, if we're keeping score, I know a lot of plain ol' white folks who didn't get a job because their last name wasn't right, either. It's a chronically unfair world and the issue comes down to whether you're going to preach muddle-headed social anger and the legislation of politeness and inclusion to degradation of substance and responsibility, or whether you're going to live and preach poise, respect and the simpler joys of watching Martha Stewart go to the hooskow.

And now I've gone and written an essay. Look everyone, I'm a hypocrite! (does little hypocrite dance)

And don't get too excited if you're a Bill O'Reilly loving Bush-o-phile because I'm not one of you. The preaching of pragmaticless pragmatics is arguably as great a scourge on this nation as the social milquetoastery I've just got done pooping on. Humility goes a long way, folks. It's not us against them, the faithful versus the harlots, the Washington Senators trying to take a bit of pride back from the Harlem Globetrotters. As much as you like to talk about the value of hard work, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and power of good moral grounding, you got where you are as much out of chance, brown-nosing and knowing the right people as the hated liberals. Take a deep breath and say to yourself "Bill Clinton wasn't that bad." It will be a healing experience, trust me. You've got to relax and worry about things other than the faceless Socialist illuminati who are trying to give your tax dollars to crack addicts so they can keep having illegitimate children. I know a lot of you and you tend to be decent people (and honestly, that goes for folks on both sides of this) but when you start talking about big pictures you come across as bitter paranoid ideologues--like Nixon without the strange "Grumpy Old Man" kind of endearing quality that he had. Can we all play nice for once? Or is it going to take another plane into the side of a building for us to realize that we have so much in common?

And now I've referenced 9/11. I'm a total liar hypocrite. Throw mud at my lying ass.

All that to ask why we, regardless of our backgrounds, revel in destruction? Why do we take glee in Clinton's impeachment or the removal of religious references in public? When we should have been in the streets celebrating one of the rare instances of destruction when "Brown v Board of Education" beat the Constitutional hell out of "Plessy v Ferguson" people lined the streets in anger. We just don't get it. We enjoy destruction for the advancement of the trivial and decry it when it's something important. Worse yet, most of the time we sit largely indifferent like spectators at a cockfight we haven't bet on. I guess it all works out unless you're the chicken.

I can own up to my feathers. Can you?

And I'm finally done. Forgive me. I won't do this again (at least like this), I swear.

Cluck cluck

-Joe

Doing a full system upgrade/cleaning of house. Yikes.
Haven't slept in 24 hours.
Doth suck.
Doth suck greatly.
So should the mouths of women and children bear out for generations to come.
And they shall say "Hark, this doth suck."
And the wise men shall look upon them and say, "Greatly."

-Joe