Currently listening to: Pure Reason Revolution – Les Malheurs

We’re approaching the end of the year, and with New Year’s resolutions halfway out the window already, it’s time to focus on what we’ll be doing when the clock hits midnight. Since I have yet to determine what I’ll be doing in the windy city, I thought I’d compile a list of possibilities, shows and the not.

If you know something I don’t, comment and I’ll meet ya there

Evil Olive: $60 premium open bar 9-1

Salud Tequila Lounge: $85 premium open bar 9-2, food buffet

Metro: $61 The Jesus Lizard, Disappears

Elbo Room: $61 Model Stranger

Darkroom: $15 Rehab vs. Dark Wave Disco

Congress: Girl Talk [SOLD OUT]

Crobar: $50 open bar 8-whenever it’s time for you to leave…

Debonair: $66 open bar 8-2

Schuba’s: $20 Bobby Bare Jr, David Vandervelde, Ben Clarke

Enclave: $100 9-1:30 Alice in Wonderland themed, paparazzi

Angels & Kings: $85 open bar 9-2, snack bar

SubT: $40 Margot & the Nuclear So & So’s, ball drop, champagne toast

The Apartment: $69 8-12, buffet 8-10

Neo: $20 Atomic New Wave Dance Party w/ DJs Qbot + Kamar, champagne toast, Glitterguts photography

Double Door: $65 Local H, Electric Six, White Mystery. Open bar includes draft beer, well drinks, wine, water and soda

The Other Side: $50 open bar 9-2 (different package options)

Party hard and don’t forget your camera!

If you’re seriously interested in knowing about back pain and backers, you need to think beyond the basics. This informative article takes a closer look at things you need to know about back pain and backers.

Did you know when pain acts out that your backers will kick in? The backers are your emotions. The devilish radicals of our human makeup can lead us to consequences we ordinarily would not accept.
Sometimes the radicals are angels that work as guiders to back our every step.

Back pain and emotions go hand in hand, since when one experiences pain it causes threat to the emotions. When the emotions are threatened, “Look out Henry,” John Doe is in the house. Back pain has symptoms, which include depression, irritation and hopelessness, which starts with back pain and ends with emotions.

The person will often accept the proposal that the emotions deliver, leaving them to believe that no help is present. In most back pain instances however, help is sitting in front of you.

The rule of thumb is to listen, learn, and take action. When you learn all you can about your condition, you can move to accept its symptoms and take action to resolve your problem. In fact, the information you gain can work in your favor, since you may learn strategies that relieve your pain without costing you a fortune.

Most back conditions are treated with Rest, Ice Packs, Compression, and Elevation. (R.I.C.E.) Remember this rule and apply it as needed. Unless your back is broken, most back conditions are treated with basic common sense and non-costly remedies. Take action!

Tell John Doe to move it on over, since Henry is taking control. The emotions are lethal injections if you allow them to take over your life.

Fact: About 33% of the patients who visit common medical practitioners do not receive relief from back pain.

Fact: Chiropractors specialize in back pain. Chiropractors overall has lowered back pain up to a percentage higher than ordinary physicians have.

Acupuncture and massage therapy has helped more patients than standard medical treatment.

Fact: Back surgeries can lead to further complications.

Physical therapy is a great way to minimize back pain. In the worst case scenarios people have trained in weights and aerobics, thus reducing pain.

The best time to learn about back pain and backers is before you’re in the thick of things. Wise readers will keep reading to earn some valuable back pain and backers experience while it’s still free.

Back pain is relieved when one uses practical reason. Aspirin for instance can relieve most states of back pain with the exceptions of severe aching. Practical reasoning should tell you that the muscles are stressed, which basic stretch workouts can resolve the problem. Stretch those muscles!

Understanding your condition is the first step to taking action. In addition, when you know your condition you can relax. Pushing the muscles is overexertion that leads to back pain. If you are weight training and notice pain in the back, change your actions and perform other types of workouts.

Discomfiture (Oh no, not John Doe again) can cause a person to feel pity, instead of taking action. Don’t let John Doe out of the bag, rather get into the grove and stretch, relax, and rest.

Fact: Ecotrin is a painkiller that is sold over the counter. If you have back pain and take this medicine four times daily with a meal, you can reduce back pain. Take Ecotrin if you have overexerted the muscles to relieve pain.

Fact: Over the counter medications, such as Ecotrin will reduce pain caused from sprains and osteoarthritis.

Over the counter meds, such as Ecotrin has proven to reduce inflammation and swelling, which is the leading cause of pain.

Fact: If you take, Ecotrin prior to working out, you can reduce the odds of back pain.

Do not take over the counter medications if you have acute back conditions. The remedies are designed for short-term relief. Overusing the remedies can damage the kidneys and cause ulcers to develop.

Fact: Tylenol is linked to liver damage, yet if you use Tylenol in short-term regimens to relieve pain, the painkiller works alongside the central nerves to reduce pain.

As your knowledge about back pain and backers continues to grow, you will begin to see how back pain and backers fits into the overall scheme of things. Knowing how something relates to the rest of the world is important too.

Read more

“Ahh Doctor, come in come in.” The small Chinese guy at the door was paid not to know me and I shot him a glance to remind him of that fact, “So sorry, Mister Smith.” His wide, thin smile was as genuine as could be expected for a low paid goon in the drugs trade who thought he was worth more than being nice to the smoke-fiends. I’d let the Dragon Lady know, let’s see how he smiled after she’d booted him down to gutting fish in the cannery for a month. His smile twitched cruelly as he opened the door for me and I crossed the threshold between worlds.

I followed the curved path down to where a darkly translucent curtain divided me from my goal ahead. I could feel the tendrils of desire creeping around it, wafting towards me, and all the nuns in Steelhead couldn’t stop me now. I breathed the thick air in deep and pushed through the curtain to a room of cots and smoke and beautiful women.

They pamper you there. They guide you, help you, lose you and leave you.

I was in the smoke. With the Dragon lady. In the curls of her hair. Wrapped in the folds of her dress. I was far gone. I was with them again. Back with my family. Back with my wife.

**{}**

Through the darkness of impossible dreams hands found me. Strong hands. Cold hands, cold like metal. I was lifted up, borne aloft to fly safe from harm. Somewhere, in the night, someone was sawing a double bass in half. What a strange thing to do.

**{}**

The knock on the door was almost as unwelcome as the bright morning light assaulting my eyes. I stood, naked to the waist and with the face of a dead dog, and wobbled my way to the door. “Sister Sweetcheeks,” I growled at the shocked nun. Someone had replaced my throat with a bag of gravel and every word hurt like a punch in the tonsils, “to what do I owe this very great pleasure?”

The young nun tried to stop her eyes skiing down my chest and failed, she gulped hard and spun around to look out across the harbour, her face even prettier with some colour in it, “Another murder, doctor!”

Another? Once more she provided the slap I needed to wake up. When I had time, I’d like to think about that some more, but right now I had questions looking for answers, “Who? Where? Was it Dr Alter’s squid again?”

“No,” she replied not turning around but sneaking a sideways glance at me, “In the old tunnels, some poor wretch has been found hung! Sheriff Ortega has arranged for the body to be taken to your temporary morgue in the naval offices. He asks if you can get a report to him right away.”

“Does he now? Well tell him I’ll get on it right away, but I’ll be calling in these favours from the city soon enough.”

“Favours?” Sister Sweetcheeks looked round at me, her eyes alive with curiosity. God but they were beautiful eyes.

“You tell him Sis, the city owes Beck some overtime,” I smiled into her eyes, “and I intend to collect that cheque.”

****{}****

To be continued…
All the “Goodunnit? Murder in Steelhead!” posts can be read here.

*****{*}*****

Links to other blogs and stories:
1) The murders are discussed at the weekly town hall meeting here.
2) Dr Alter discovers she’s not only in the frame again, but seems to have a publicity department she was previously unaware of here.

I tossed the report on the sheriff’s desk, “There’s your post mortem.”

The sheriff looked down at my scrawl and then back up at me, “And?”

“What? You can’t read now?” I snapped.

“Don’t get cute with me, doc.” His tone was calm but I heard the snarl behind the words.

“Okay, sorry Fuzz but it’s been a rough day and frankly I’d like to tie it in a sack and kick it into the ocean!” A nun shuffling past with coffee for us looked at me and raised an eyebrow, a perfectly curved eyebow above a eye of emerald green. I smiled a smile and hoped to hell no one could read my mind right. As she left, she bent over to pop a chunk of cheese in the cells for Willard and my gaze fell on her curves like honey over a spoon, “Still, it’s had its moments, I’ll admit,” I added, suddenly a little distracted.

“Thank you Sister Mattic,” Fuzz said with a rye smile, “I’m sure Willard can do without his treat for now.” She nodded and bustled off. “Doc, doc, doc, what is it with you and nuns?”

“A habit, Fuzz, a bad habit.”

He smiled a frown, which is a nice trick, “The report? What does it say? How did this guy die?”

“Bottom line he was stabbed, several times, looks like a sword.” I replied.

“A sword? What type of sword? Rapier? Broad?”

“From the wounds I’d say a cutlass. Large flat blade. He was stabbed three times in the abdomen and two in the chest and had defensive wounds to his arms, hands and thighs. I say he fought back but was probably unarmed at the time.”

“Nasty,” Fuzz muttered with a shake of his head.

“Well it was no prom dance, that’s for sure,” I replied.

“What about the green goo around him?” Fuzz asked.

“Hard to say, but my best guess is some form of mucus membrane produced by the squiddy thing to protect itself. Dr A thinks that her wee pet was deliberately mutated to a point where a human could be fed to it, although how she didn’t know.”

“So whoever mutated the goo-beast did so with the intention of getting rid of a body. Only the goo didn’t like what was on the menu, wrapped it up and waited for Mother Nature to work her magic,” Fuzz filled in.

“Sounds about right to me. So you know how he died, but not who he is, why he ended up like a pin cushion and who had a beef with him.”

“Actually I do know who he is,” Fuzz said in a matter of fact way.

I sat up, “You do? Who? How?” I asked like a turkey just being told about Christmas.

“Pinkertons. Came in, saw the body, IDed him as John Doe.” Fuzz stated with an odd expression.

“John Doe? You have to be joking? Who the hell is called John Doe?” something about this case smelt worse than the Skylar child and I didn’t like it.

“Apparently he was. It’s a good ID, solid.” Fuzz said.

“But what the hell are the Pinkertons doing here? And how do they know him?” I asked.

“Turns out he was here investigating smuggling in those precious slums of yours. I’m guessing he found his way to something, or someone, he shouldn’t and was perforated for his troubles.”

The slums? My slums? “You’re thinking the Bing Kong aren’t you? So what next?” the Bing Kong were not just a thorn in my side, but as whole rose bush in my tush.

“Next? Next you go home doc. It’s police business now. Thanks for your help an’ all, but we can take it from here.”

Damn him, I knew he was right, but damn him.

“Look, I’ll let you know what happens, but you’ve done your part. You have patients that need you, and I’ve taken you away from them for a whole day. Get some sleep and get back to them doc.” Fuzz smiled warmly but he looked weary.

“Don’t worry about me, Sheriff,” I stood and picked up my bag, “you look tired enough for the both of us.” I said my goodbyes and cycled off. Sure I was tired, tired like Santi Claus on Boxing Day, but I was damned if I was going home. I cycled off along a shortcut through the hills behind Shanghai and headed for the hotel that rose high above the harbour, although what I was looking for lay deep below it…

****{}****

To be continued…
All the “Goodunnit? Murder in Steelhead!” posts can be read here.

*****{*}*****

Links to other blogs and stories:
1) Sheriif Ortega’s intial desk report is here and here
2) The murder is discussed for the second time at the weekly town hall meeting here.
3) Read more about the urchin Skylar in his tale about being lost in Steelhead’s wilderness here.

Cuter than Christmas yet deadlier than Death itself, Dr Malegatto Alter was a tiny kitty with brains, brawn and seriously big ballistics. Not that I’d ever tell her she was cute, hell there’s only one man brave enough to do that and rumour has it she’d burnt his house down as a thank you. No, when you find yourself knee-deep in a piranha pool it’s not a good idea to cut yourself shaving as my old mum always said, “The sheriff knows I’m here,” I blurted hoping the edge of fear wouldn’t show through my voice.

The green eyes bore through me, her metal claw (a drunk once told me that she’d lost her arm pulling Satan’s heart out through his stomach and I was tempted to believe him) twitched a little as she regarded me with the level of loathing normally reserved for cockroaches, slugs and unexpected houseguests. “Well bully for you,” she said after a pause so long it could only be measured in lifetimes or games of Monopoly, “but that hardly answers the twin questions of who the devil is in my Squiddy Thing and why, now does it?”

“I guess not, I need to get him out before I can try. Any ideas?” I tried to sound a whole heap braver than I felt and I was under no illusions about my failure in the matter.

“Ideas? Ideas? Of course I have some ideas you blithering fool! Right at this moment the idea I’m giving quite a lot of time to involves you, some rope and the quay if you ask any more stupid questions!”

Her whiskers quivered in rage and I found myself thinking how adorable it was. I even contemplated reaching out to scratch behind here ears, but the thought of my hand being torn off and rammed down my throat brought me to my senses. “I mean about how to get the stiff out of your little pet here, assuming you don’t want me to slice it open…” it wasn’t a great comeback as comebacks go, but hand-tear-throat-ram you know.

“I most certainly do NOT want my sqiddy thing cutting up! I have prepared a solution that will cause a metabolic reaction within the creature that should expel the foreign body in a safe, natural manner.”

“You mean…”

“That’s right, I’ve created a squid laxative!” she let out a peel of evil laughter that would have given Satan the willies, were he not dead due to having a heart-shaped hole in his abdomen. “Ahem,” she stopped laughing with a slight cough, “sorry, force of habit and all that.”

“Some habit,” I said, “must make playing Trivial Pursuit a real pain in the keister.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered darkly.

I tactfully changed the subject “So, this squiddy exlax, how do we administer it? Some form of injection?” I walked towards the green column, wondering at the best place for a needle. There was no answer and when I turned I saw Dr Alter struggling into what looked like a deep sea diving suit. She twisted the helmet on and looked up at me. I could see her mouth moving but couldn’t make out a word. I make the universal pointing at my ears sign and mouthed “What?”

She flipped out the glass “I said, I already have.”

Behind me was a loud, low rumble followed by a slow ripping sound.

“Oh sh…” was all I managed to say before a torrent of liquefied squid innards and dead John Doe crashed into my back and I washed past Dr Alter in a stinking waves of green slime. I’d swear she was smiling inside her helmet as I passed her.

****{}****

To be continued…
All the “Goodunnit? Murder in Steelhead!” posts can be read here.

*****{*}*****

Links to other blogs and stories:
1) Sheriif Ortega’s intial desk report is here and here
2) Dr Alter notices the body here and here.
3) Elle reports that the issue was raised at the town hall meeting here.
4) The murder is discussed at the weekly town hall meeting here.

The rope was tight, but then it had been tied by a metal gargoyle who, I guessed, didn’t have internal organs to worry about.

“You ok there, doc?” Shal asked.

“As long as I don’t try anything foolish like breathing,” I replied with my stomach quite literally in my mouth in the way that ‘literally’ meant I was making it up for dramatic effect.

“Ah,” he smiled, “you’ll be fine doc. Better to be safe than digested, eh?” He had a point. “First sign of trouble, I’ll yank you back, ok?”

I looked at the size of his chest and arms, “Just don’t yank too hard, I’m rather attached to my legs.”

He grinned a knife drawer grin and I began my cautious approach of the squiddy thing and its gruesome contents. If it detected my presence, it showed no sign whatsoever. I passed a large blood stain on the cobbles and by the time I was next to the tower of green goo and dead guy, I could see another two, one of which was on a ramp leading down to a small dock below.

I walked around the site softly, but it was soon clear that wee squiddy posed little danger anymore – it seemed to have gone into a state of shock. I called Shal over and breathed a sigh of relief as he removed the rope noose threatening to cut me in half.

“Hard tell which one came off worse,” he said gazing into the slime at the body suspended inside, “Do you think it ate him as he passed?”

I looked round at the blood in the yard, “I think there was some sort of struggle here, or the body was moved here at least. I won’t be sure until I can get him out and I have no idea how to do that, I was never top in my squiddy things classes, y’see.”

“Heh, well the sheriff said he was going to speak to Dr Alter about its removal, I guess she’s best placed to administer a giant enema to her pet. You got plans until then?”

Plans? Did I have plans? Do I ever have plans? “Yeah, rounds to do for a start. Patients seem incapable of not getting ill no matter how many times I tell them not to, but what you gonna do, huh?”

He slipped me a grin like a new moon, “A doctor’s gotta do what a doctor’s gotta do, I guess. And you seem to have things in hand so I’ll take my leave and head off in to the wild blue yonder.”

I nodded, “Well thanks for the help. I’ll se you around no doubt.”

He smiled me a smile that could floor a rhino walked off around the corner whistling a crazy tune. There was a sound like someone sawing a double bass in half and wandered off after him to see what it was. He was gone. Just like that. Gone. I scratched my whiskers and muttered “Well I’ll be damned…”

“Indeed, as will we all,” a voice hissed behind me. I spun round but the yard was emptier than a pawn broker’s Christmas stocking. “Ahem” came an annoyed cough near my ankles. I looked down into the into the green eyes and mouse-munching mouth of a tiny evil-looking kitty.

“Dr Alter, I pres…” there as a sharp snick as she flicked a quivering claw at my face. “If you are thinking of saying what I think you are thinking of saying, I would advise you to think again. Now if you don’t mind, I believe I’m needed here to once again prove my own innocence.”

****{}****

To be continued…
All the “Goodunnit? Murder in Steelhead!” posts can be read here.

*****{*}*****

Links to other blogs and stories:
1) Sheriif Ortega’s intial desk report is here and here
2) Dr Alter notices the body here and here.
3) Elle reports that the issue was raised at the town hall meeting here.
4) The murder is discussed at the weekly town hall meeting here.

It didn’t take me too long to get ready. One of the advantages of being a poor doctor in the slums is that I had very little to get ready with and with my satchel lashed to the back, I set off on my bike, more rusty than trusty, to see the John Doe in the jello.

The ride was smooth and quick, the streets of Steelhead still smelt of recent work and tax-payers dollars; if only City Hall would throw a few in the direction of the slums but hey, I was always a dreamer. I even managed to cock a rye smile as I passed the Justice League Halls – the last JLUer who wandered into the slums to, and I quote, “sort out the Bing Kong ruffians once and for all!” was last seen dressed as a girl guide tied to a mast on a very slow boat to Zindra. I shouldn’t laugh. No, I really shouldn’t.

I rounded the hall and drew up to the wall of the aptly named Evil Tiny Kitty Laboratories. I could see yellow police tape and warning signs all over the place, but no Sheriff. I propped the bike against a wall and walked over to get a look at the stiff in the green squiddy thing, and if the stiff looked stiff then the squiddy thing out stiffed him with ease. Hell, you could practically run a flag up it and salute St Peter and all the angels to their faces. I was no squiddy thing expert, but even if the damn thing had eaten the poor sap on purpose, I’d lay money on the fact he didn’t agree with it.

“Doesn’t look well, does it?” a voice like someone pouring molten steel down a valley suddenly appeared at me ear. I spun round and found myself face to face with a gargoyle. A six foot gargoyle in a top hat with a grin that would give a crocodile a complex and skin colour the envy of every battleship in the fleet. I did my best not to look flustered, but sometimes your best just isn’t good enough.

“Which one? The giant green spear of snot or the poor sod inside?” was all I managed in return.

“Ha!” gargoyle boy laughed, “either, both, take your pick. Shalmendo Glineux.” He held out his hand in greeting. I took it and let out an involuntary gasp – he was cold, cold like ice, cold like stone, cold like “Metal?” I asked.

“Heh, I’m made of it in exactly the same way you aren’t,” he replied with a smile that made me think of steak knives, “Dr Beck, I presume?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Well the doctor’s bag on your bike was my first clue. The Sheriff told me to look out for you, point you to the body, not that you could miss it,” he nodded his head towards the still stiff stiffs.

“No, guess not,” I said, “I’m going to take a closer look.”

“The sheriff said you’d want to, asked me to keep an eye on you in case Squiddster there did eat a passer-by and is still hungry. I’ve got some rope.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Rope?”

“Yeah, rope. You know, like mountaineers? Round your waist and heave ho if you fall of the edge into the goo. Rope.”

What could I say? Well, there was an endless supply of thing I could have said, but in the end I let a metal gargoyle lasso me before I gingerly approached a column made entirely of green goo and dead person. Just your average day in Steelhead, I told myself for the thousandth time…

****{}****

To be continued…
All the “Goodunnit? Murder in Steelhead!” posts can be read here.

*****{*}*****

Links to other blogs and stories:
1) Sheriif Ortega’s intial desk report is here and here
2) Dr Alter notices the body here and here.
3) Elle reports that the issue was raised at the town hall meeting here.
4) The murder is discussed at the weekly town hall meeting here.

The knock at the door woke me from a dream full of the stench of the sewers and death. I staggered over, opened it and found myself staring into the face of a stern young nun.

“Dr Beck?” her voice was as clean and crisp as the wimple framing her face. A face with eyes as deep as forever and the kind of mouth men go to war over. And this dame was a nun? It was a sin.

“Whazz wrung, sister?” I asked with a mouth drier than the Gobi.

“The sheriff has asked if you could come to Dr Alter’s warehouse. There’s been, well… an incident.”

Dr Alter? I knew the name, who didn’t. Cute-as-a-button kitten with a penchant for inventing death rays and diabolical plans in equal measures. Maybe one of them had gone wrong at last. Or right, I suppose. I rubbed my eyes hard with my palms and re-focused on the broad in the penguin suit, I needed more information, “What kind of incident?”

“Well,” her big, brown eyes darted left and right and she lowered her voice “a murder, doctor!”

I woke up for the second time that morning, “A murder? In Steelhead?” I sounded as dumb as brick and half as useful, but it was early and damn it if the board hadn’t stopped me thinking straight. She was one of the Steelhead Holy SWAT team working with the Sheriff, of course she meant in Steelhead!

“Yes,” she breathed breathlessly, which was a nice trick, I bet she was a peach on the bugle, “there’s a body inside Dr Alter’s squid thing!”

The squid thing, the green tentacle of goo that waved about like a drunk at midnight in the kitty cat’s yard. Maybe someone tried to feed it. Big mistake. Or maybe someone tried to bump the good doctor off. Even bigger mistake. The bumper would become the bumpee before they even knew they’d been bump-jumped. Although I found it hard to believe she’d be sloppy enough to get caught.

“Doctor?” Sister Sweetcheeks’ voice drifted through my thoughts and slapped me across the head. I looked up and into the face of a slightly shocked nun, “You… you were staring, doctor!”

“That’s my thinking face, sister. I don’t use it often but I find it helps when I’ve got a beautiful view.”

“Doctor!” she gasped, putting her hand up to her bee-sting mouth.

“Behind you Sister, the harbour in the morning sun.” The glowing red cheeks did nothing to dampen her appeal as I smiled as innocently. As innocently as any fox sat outside a henhouse.

“Well, er… shall I… shall I tell the sheriff you’ll come?” she was flustered and cute with it.

“Sure doll,” I said with a wink, “tell him I’ll be right over.”

****{}****

To be continued…
All the “Goodunnit? Murder in Steelhead!” posts can be read here.

*****{*}*****

Links to other blogs and stories:
1) Sheriif Ortega’s intial desk report is here and here
2) Dr Alter notices the body here and here.
3) Elle reports that the issue was raised at the town hall meeting here.
4) The murder is discussed at the weekly town hall meeting here.

Currently listening to: The Misfits – Halloween

It’s my favorite time of year again! In the event you’re struggling for things to do on the 31st, here are some ideas:

EAST LANSING:

• Kill Hannah at Small Planet
• Disco Halloween Party at Mac’s Bar (costume contest!)
• Soco, Jack, & Tuaca Halloween Party and Costume Contest ($500 first place prize) at The Riv

CHICAGO:

• Debonair’s Halloween Anniversary Party (best costume gets complimentary Belvedere bottle service!)
• Roky Erickson show at Bottom Lounge
• Fu Manchu show at Double Door
• Nightmare on Well’s Street - Drink specials, costume contests and DJ Tony Tone
• North Halsted Street Halloween Parade costume contest!
• Haunting in the Square - costume contests and Darkwave Disco DJs
• All Hail Halloween at Simone’s – costumes get you a free shot of pumpkin moonshine!
• Love Me Electric as Blink 182 at Metro – $11
• DJ Coffin Banger Halloween Party at Cobra Lounge
• Hollow Mansion Halloween Party at Crobar ($1000 prize for best costume)

*For a full listing of events in Chicago, click HERE.

If I missed something awesome, leave me a comment!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

 livegb3  // livegb4 // livegb5

The Get Back is one of the premier funky soul dance parties in the states, it goes down on the 1st friday of each month in Las Vegas @ the Beauty Bar.  Recently it turned 7 & in celebration they gave out Volume 6 of their wonderful deep funk mix CD series. Each mini mix on the CD was recorded live in the last year with selectors John Doe, Phoreyz, Danny Boy plus guests Renato & Meaty Ogre all laying down the heat. These cats are serious collectors of anything funky and take pride in rolling out their Get Back sounds.  Live funk mixes don’t get much better than this…..

They recently revamped their website www.thegetbackvegas.com and put up a few volumes of their previous CDs for free DL,  so make sure you drop by & have a listen.  I am pretty sure that The Get Back will be #1 on your ‘things to do’ list next time your in Vegas.

Hello,

We need your help. As you know H.R.3695 HELP FIND THE MISSING ACT (Billy’s Law) has been introduced and we are asking if you would so kindly open the link and fill in the information provided to ask your Federal Legislator for support. Add comments of personal experiences to touch the hearts of your legislators so they feel the need to support such a bill.

http://www.lostnmissing.com/25.html

Many of you know what The Smolinski Family has gone through for the past five years and there are many others in this country with similar heartaches which is life altering. Please help by filling in the information and passing it on to your email addresses.
Thank you for your kindness,

Always Hope,
Janice Smolinski
www.justice4billy.com Guiding Light of Hope

Endorsed By: Connecticut Department of Public Safety, National Forensic Science Technology Center, National Center for Forensic Science, Doe Missing Persons Network, Center for Hope, Families of Homicide LostNMissing,Inc.,Missing Persons, Inc.

Je vous souhaite la bienvenue, ici, chez nous, chez vous, nous n’avons pas la culture d’entreprise, mais l’entreprise de la culture.

Meeting, happening, même combat !

Vous faites partie de la famille, abandonnez votre thérapeute, Dieu et votre amour propre, nous, nous vous aimons pour ce que vous êtes, ce que vous faites.

Je dois avoir la gueule de l’emploi et un petit quelque chose en plus de spécial ou alors, les fosses communes sont toutes équipées de machines à café.

Souriez, vous êtes officiellement mort, un CDI dans le portefeuille et une hypothèque de la maison du bonheur dans les promesses de fidélité.

Maintenant, les infarctus précèdent les calvities.

Caché dans une petite boîte trop parfaite pour être vraie, j’en construis d’autres pour vous tous, avec l’espoir que vous adoriez votre prison.

Je divertis le peuple en me faisant de l’argent : où est le mal ?  Tant que l’on ne me transfère pas vers la hotline ou le service après vente.

Il y a des vices acceptables, voire rentables, alors les plus scolaires d’entre nous préfèrent les participations aux bénéfices de l’industrie des pixels à l’argent sale des paradis artificiels.

Le crime, c’est tout de même mieux depuis son salon ?

L’obésité ou l’overdose ? Tout est une question de promotion !

Je me log chaque matin naturellement d’un air supérieur entre l’automate et le pantomime, pendant que tu pointes la misère sociale sur ton bleu de travail, derrière une machine qui ne peut penser sans toi.

Parfois, je me dis que l’esclavage c’est comme la mode, à force de suivre le mouvement, on pense l’incarner.

Peu importe les coups de fouet, du moment que l’on peut les revendiquer le premier.

Des régiments d’individualistes, vivant leurs ambitions par pack de six bureaux, dans un open space respectant les règles d’hygiène, mais pas celle de l’intimité.

Nous avons tous les mêmes diplômes.

Mais forte heureusement, en phallocratie, les droits de la femme ne font pas les salaires de la femme.

Pour rester dans les annales de l’entreprise certains font des dépressions, les autres des enfants.

Je préfère mes névroses souvent imaginaires, parfois obsessionnelles, à la monotonie de cette folie remplissant mes déclarations d’imposition.

…

Tous pensent réfléchir différemment, mais ils agissent de la même manière, dans le même sens, vers le même but.

Mais moi, j’ai des projets, je suis ne pas comme les autres, je combats le système de l’intérieur, un jour vous verrez !

En attendant, je fais semblant, j’achète quelques machins, je possède quelques trucs, pas grand chose, toujours dans la limite de mon découvert, pour ne pas attirer les soupçons, je prends un crédit, je file droit.

Je crois en ce que je télécharge, en toute légalité.

Certains ont des croisades humanitaires ou pédophiles, les autres des croyances nécrophiles ou mythomanes, moi, j’ai juste un besoin d’exister, je ne suis pas pareil, je me suis mis au bricolage.

Les jours d’ennui, j’hésite entre faire un don ou une OPA.

Un petit décontractant après le travail, entre collègues ou seul, un remontant dans ma voiture chaque matin en voyant le bureau se rapprocher dangereusement, un petit coup de pouce une fois la porte des toilettes close.

Moi, depuis le troisième bureau sur la gauche, celui avec le portrait de famille décomposée et ma figurine Green Lanterne achetée durant mon temps d’inertie sur E-Bay entre la première pause cigarette et le dernier mail groupé glorifiant un con et sa webcam, moi, je sauve le monde, demandez à mes euphorisants remboursés mais génériques, je combats l’horloge du lundi 08H00 au vendredi 17H00.

Je veux me faire un nom en perdant mon identité, dites bonjour à l’absurde banalité.

N’oubliez pas de mettre votre nom au feutre sur votre badge, prenez une viennoiserie et attendez la première vague de licenciement économique, en silence, gêné, comme à votre arrivée dans l’ascenseur.

]]> http://gegio.wordpress.com/2009/10/14/the-fras-frequently-researches-answered-ottobre/ Wed, 14 Oct 2009 09:25:47 +0000 agegiofilm http://gegio.wordpress.com/2009/10/14/the-fras-frequently-researches-answered-ottobre/

Cosa digitate nei motori quando entrate in questo blog? Quali sono i film più ricercati prima di trovare A gegio film? Quali domande, spesso irrisolte, ponete ai motori prima di arrivare qui? Quali sono le chiavi di ricerca più curiose, per le quali la destinazione è a volte ignota?

Oltre ai soliti post evergreen sul palinsesto di Rai4, IRIS e Mediaset Gallery (per i film vi rimando a questo post), e sulla Top 100 ci sono delle ricerche per cui mi devo organizzare in qualche modo, per darvi la massima soddisfazione: cercate spesso i dvd in vendita e a noleggio (i feed rss delle uscite sono qui), per i quali volete anche i trailers (il mio canale Youtube???), ma anche i migliori film del mese (lasciati a sè stessi fino a quando non leggerò tutte le recensioni sulle riviste di ottobre); per quelli delle prime visioni di Premium Cinema ho “dovuto” programmare un post settimanale. Pensavo anche di dare più attenzione alle citazioni, forse argomento mai sfruttato. Rimane alto l’interesse per le colonne sonore e per le scene cult, ma anche per le playlist a tema. Spero di non avere detto tutto sui feed rss riguardanti i film e il cinema, mentre per gli Oscar…beh, c’è il Torneo…

C’è ancora chi si arrovella su John Doe, uno dei telefilm più interessanti degli ultimi anni, interrotto con credo grande delusione dei fan.

Ecco la classifica dei film più ricercati quando capitate qui:

1. L’esorcista
2. Qualcuno volò sul nido del cuculo
3. Ultimo tango a Parigi (ce ne sarebbe da parlare…)
4. Il padrino I e II
5. Lo squalo (!!!)
6. Quattro matrimoni e un funerale
7. Toro scatenato
8. Star wars
9. Amarcord
10. The truman show

Vi lascio invece le ricerche più strane, che commento e alle quali cerco anche di rispondere:

• Standoff, il telefilm non dovrebbe contenere esperimenti carcerari
• da qualche parte esiste forse una scena di Fantozzi sul Titanic, per il quale si fanno  anche ricerche sul “product placement”…
• se si parla di un attore e di un naso mi viene in mente Steve Martin in Roxanne
• esiste un telefilm chiamato “questo piccolo grande uomo”?
• qualcuno mi ha trovato cercando il proprio padrino al matrimonio…mah…
• il film con una segretaria uccisa, con protagonista Gene Hackman, dovrebbe essere Potere assoluto
• qualcuno si domanda quanto è alta Minnie Driver…
• qualcun’altro confonde The millionaire con Million dollar baby…
• Balla coi lupi non dovrebbe contenere scene con la roulette…
• cercare “film sullo spazio” in Google è troppo generico…
• ci si domanda anche chi fosse l’attrice preferita da JFK…
• la canzone della sveglia di Ricomincio da capo è I got you babe degli UB40, coverizzata per l’occasione
• qualcuno pensa di aver bisogno degli effetti speciali per farsi i capelli castani?
• ohh, tre ricerche serie: Lo squalo presentato da Spielberg, il monologo di Bruce Springsteen sul Vietnam, e un documentario sulla realizzazione di Titanic;
• di contro ci sono degli errori di “scrittura”: 3 matrimoni e un funerale, Audrey basso mantenimento, pulp fiction+joe pesci, titanic 2, e Gandhi di Clint Eastwood;
• altre ricerche sono più generiche ma dovrebbero dare risultati interessanti: evoluzione del genere gangster, prosieguo Roger Rabbit;
• se uno ha la risposta in tasca su Una settimana da Dio, altri si domandano com’è Le ali della libertà, se Star wars prosegue dopo Il ritorno dello Jedi, e cercano attori somiglianti a…
• Rocco lo spaccone e Cattivi pensieri dovrebbero portare ad altri lidi, come del resto la playlist della Sisal…

You know what they say, you’ve got free will. How the hell are you supposed to let that free will out when there are rules? I’m telling you, the only way to really bring out that freedom is to show that there are no rules.

This could be me in a hundred years. Trust me, it doesn’t matter what people think anymore…. because what people think is what got people like me where we are now. HAHAHAHAHAHA

You know, I wasn’t labelled intelligent for nothing. There’s a reason why people like me end up where we are. See, me, I’m on the winning end of the battle. But I’m playing a double-agent role. You see, people like me know what we’re doing all the time. If I wanted to leave Arkham Asylum, then I would have left by now. But of course, that doesn’t matter, does it? No one gives a damn.
There’s such thing as a system hack. Easy to do, especially when the power’s out. You’ve got your mob people, mafia gunmen, and anyone who’s willing to kill to get you where you need to be. That’s why I’ve got my little… team. If you’re part of that team, then you’re on the winning side.
Being safe? That’s not fun, now, is it? The  joke’s on you. Get in the game now, or you’ll die. Leave, and you’re gonna have a tough break.
The war has only just begun, Batsy. I’m coming for you.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

By Holland Van den Nieuwenhof

Posted: October 15, 2009

OKLAHOMA CITY — The recent spate of foiled terror plots in this country have given this author an uncomfortable feeling of dread, for we have been down this road before. I am referring specifically to a trio of bomb plots that serve to remind the American people that we are eternally unsafe, and bound under the ever-tightening screws of National Security that we shall never be without. On September 19, 2009 Najibullah Zazi, an Afghan citizen and legal resident of the U.S., was arrested in Denver by the FBI for planning and preparing a series of bomb attacks on the New York City subway system. The FBI was intensely concerned about a trip that Zazi had made back to NYC, where he had recently resided, on September 10 when President Barack Obama was also visiting that city. Also arrested were Zazi’s father and the Imam of a mosque they attended. On September 23, 2009 a twenty-nine year old American, Michael C. Finton, was arrested for attempting to detonate what he thought was a one-ton truck bomb outside the Federal courthouse in Springfield, Illinois. Finton also used the name Talib Islam and idolized his pen pal John Walker Lindh, the “American Taliban.” Finton had been provided fake explosive materiel by an undercover FBI agent who posed as an al-Qaeda operative. After retreating to a safe distance, Finton twice dialed his cell phone, which he believed would initiate the blast, before being arrested by his “accomplice,” an FBI agent. The following day nineteen-year old Hosam Maher Hussein Smadi, a Jordanian national, was arrested after parking what he thought was an explosive-laden truck in the parking garage of the sixty-story Fountain Place skyscraper in Dallas, Texas. Smadi had also been provided with a fake bomb by undercover FBI agents posing as an al-Qaeda sleeper cell. I stated that we have been down this road before. An Arab terrorist parking a truck bomb in the parking garage of a landmark skyscraper. An American loner with a twisted world view leaving a truck bomb outside of a Federal Building. Another Arab terrorist cell attempting a series of devastating attacks in New York City that also threatens the President.

Sound familiar? It should. The World Trade Center bombing in 1993. The Oklahoma City bombing in 1995. 9/11.  As Mark Twain said, history tends to rhyme rather than repeat. These recent scares smack of outright plagiarism. These cases stirred the author to address these events in writing because of the similarity of them to the still unresolved questions concerning the Oklahoma City bombing. The prospect of the FBI allowing what they believe to be fake bombs to be planted by terrorism suspects scares anyone who has been involved in the ongoing independent investigation of what happened on April 19, 1995. Oklahoma State Representative Charles Key was in the forefront of many survivors, eyewitnesses and rescuers who questioned the government’s version of events. Mr. Key has stated in public that he was informed by a U.S. Senate staffer that the OKC bombing was the result of a “sting” gone bad, that the bomb was never supposed to go off and kill 169 people, including nineteen children. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (BATF) and FBI was supposed to sweep in at the last minute and save the day. The bomb was never supposed to go off. That statement cannot be substantiated because of the nature of its disclosure, but it can be confirmed to some extent by the statements of another person involved in the government investigation. Final Report was issued three weeks before 9/11. It is the summation of findings by the Oklahoma Bombing Investigation Committee up until that date. Those findings continue, and some will be discussed further on. On page 535 begins the phone transcript of a conversation between a federal official directly involved in the investigation and a survivor who participated in rescue efforts. Both people’s identities remain anonymous to the public at this time, but they are known to the author through his association with the independent investigation. The actual tape recording is secure and awaits scrutiny by a Congressional investigation, an invitation thus far unanswered. The gist of the conversation is the federal official trying to convince the inquiring survivor to halt efforts to find out what really happened. The following is quoted directly from the transcript. Federal Official: “I believe that number two, John Doe number two, was a Federal agent working undercover. And I believe that he helped McVeigh steal the goods and helped buy the equipment, and I believe that he helped McVeigh make the bomb…”

And a few sentences later, “Yes, they stood out in front of the building, yes, they followed him directly to the building. Yes, they watched him get out of the building, get out of the truck. Yes, they watched him drive off. That’s not, that was their plan. I don’t believe they ever planned to apprehend him anywhere near the building. I believe that John Doe number two was a Federal witness. His job was to render the device safe.”

Survivor: “Okay, so why didn’t they just come out and explain that to everybody?”

Federal Official: “Public doesn’t have to know that. When it comes to the national security and things like this, the public does not know. The public is not required to know.” And later, when the survivor asks why this information was not provided sooner,

Federal Official: “Well, I didn’t know that you’d be able to get this far with it. By going this far with it, let me explain something to you. Your actions have consequences…”

This conversation, revealed in more detail in Final Report, is a chilling look into the mind set of those tasked with protecting us from harm.

Read More at The Red Dirt Report

Recently, my son, Adam, asked this question while we were at the airport getting a quick bite, before his return to LA. I mentally replayed the conversation on my drive home and realized the question is a very good one, with many possible answers.

There are the obvious answers: unemployment is high, the economy is bad, the stock market crash greatly diminished peoples’ savings, and so on. It’s easy to be angry about any of these issues, but that anger is just one ”symptom.” There is also blame, which leads to hate, which leads to unrest. At times, the combination of two or more of these “symptoms” can be volatile.

But these “symptoms” are just that – symptoms. The root cause is fear. It’s fear that makes people angry, blaming others and even hating enough to lash out. Sometimes that retaliation is physical, but most of the time it’s verbal or the written word.

With that said, I have a first-person, written-word example to share with you, that happened earlier today.

Recently, a comment on one of my posts resulted in me responding to their post, and so on. It was a good dialogue with both of us agreeing in most areas and having some minor differences in other areas.

This morning, I received notice of a response to one of my comments on that post by someone who calls himself “John Doe.” (I don’t understand why people don’t identify themselves.) Here’s his recent comment about me after I once again, discredited Rush Limbaugh. (I know the graphics will be too small for most to read, so I’ve inlcuded the text below each one.) 

John Doe

Michael Kontras is a blowhard. Rush Limbaugh is a political commentator. He does not make the news (usually), he takes items that are in the news and comments on them; he merely gives his opinion as to how they are relevant, why a particular person is doing what they are doing, how a particular new policy will affect us, etc. Obviously know it alls such as Mr. Kontras do not like what he says (”99% false”? Methinks you exaggerate there, twit boy). Obviously, what Limbaugh says resonates with many in society today. That’s why he has a twenty-million odd listership, and Mr. Kontras has a puny little blog that nobody reads.

This bit about the “government owns the radio airwaves” is just a convoluted way of trying to get around the First Amendment. The “government owns” them because the Government made a power play long ago to take control of them. No different than the Government taking over national parks. Or if the Government took over the internet bandwidths and said that it “owns” the internet. Or if it took over all newspapers and magazines. When the Government starts censoring what is said on the radio stations, then it runs afoul of the First Amendment. “Congress shall make NO law respecting… the Freedom of Speech…”

I had no intention of engaging in a back-and-forth of personal insults. This person has so many “facts” wrong, but because he is angry, any dialogue opposing his view would only elevate his anger. I responded with this:

Michael Kontras

Better to be an informed “blowhard” or “twit” than an uninformed blogger. 

Thanks for your comment, Mr. “Doe.”

Okay, maybe just a tinge of sarcasm – but hardly a personal “attack,” in my opinion.

We then heard from the owner of the blog, “Federal Farmer.” This is a portion of the response:

Federal Farmer

I debated…but ultimately decided against…editing out the exchange between “Mr. Doe” and Micheal Kontras. For one thing, the first comment in the fight was a followup that showed up without me accepting it. By the time I saw it, Micheal Kontras had seen it and had sent in a reply. I felt obliged by that time let the entire exchange be shown (though I’ve had enough of it). In my opinion, the personal attacks are not necessary; in fact, they truncate the debate, as can be seen in Kontras’ curt reply. The substantive issues quickly recede and the conversation ends. This seems counterproductive to me where the purpose is to discuss political ideas. Moreover, I question the human tendency to “slide” from political differences of opinion to personal insults.

I thanked “Federal Farmer:”

Michael Kontras

My thanks to you, “Federal Farmer.”

You are obviously doing your best to keep the focus on the issues, and you are to be commended for your efforts.

If my response was deemed inappropriate, it was certainly not my intention. My curtness was a way of saying to Mr. “Doe” that I have no intention of engaging in personal insults. Calling him an “uninformed blogger” didn’t seem to be over the line, but if it was, I sincerely apologize.

There is plenty of valid information on all the substantive issues, including what our Founding Fathers considered to be “Free Speech.” I’m all for having a healthy discussion on this (or any) issue without the insults.

Mr. “Doe” continued his angry rhetoric: (The host took it down before I could grab a shot of the screen, but I managed to capture the text.)

John Doe

Federal Farmer, thanks for sounding reasonable. Please allow me to explain. Kontras attacked Rush Limbaugh (and by extension, his listeners, of whom I proudly count myself). Make no mistake, he used fancy words but HE ATTACKED Limbaugh. Rush is a “shock jock” and a “shill” and “99%” of what he says is false. What are those if not personal attacks? Is it “not a personal attack” so long as he is attacking somebody who doesn’t bother to read your blog? Why not just call him a paid whore who is always wrong? That’s what he meant. Trust me, Kontras, I am more highly educated than you are, and more informed on the issues. My blog’s bigger than your blog, my blog’s bigger than yours…” he he.

I agree that such attacks are “counter-productive” but so are attacks on those who are bigger and better than you are, who have actually DONE something with their lives, when they can’t defend themselves. Here me, Mr. Kontras?

As I said earlier, my original response to Mr. “Doe” hardly qualifies as an “attack” on him. I know he was itching for a “fight,” much like some high school bully, but out of respect for the owner of the blog, I did not engage him at all after my first and only comment.

However, allow me to have a little fun here, since I have “…a puny little blog that nobody reads.”

I don’t believe I have ever met Mr. “Doe.” So I am truly amazed at how he “knows” that I’m less educated than him. “Trust me, Kontras, I am more highly educated than you are…” Really? Come on. I used “…fancy words…” didn’t I? Maybe I should have used the “…highly educated…” word: “…whore.”  That would certainly put us on an equal intellectual plain, wouldn’t it?

“ ‘My blog’s bigger than your blog, my blog’s bigger than yours…’ he he.”  Spoken like a true third-grader in need of some parental “guidance.”

There is no doubt that Rush Limbaugh has “…actually DONE something…” with his life – especially for someone who dropped out of college after two semesters. But unlike Mr. “Doe,” who thinks Rush is “…bigger and better…” than me, I enjoy my angry-free life and have no desire to emulate Rush Limbaugh’s lifestyle, or anyone elses, for that matter.

As for my use of the word “shill”, I do have this tendency to resort to those pesky little things called “facts.”

Here are Rush’s own words – in the 2008 interview with the New York Times Magazine – upon receiving his $400,000,000, eight year contract: “First and foremost I’m a businessman,” Mr. Limbaugh told the magazine. “My first goal is to attract the largest possible audience so I can charge confiscatory ad rates… that enables me to sell airtime.” He didn’t say, “First and foremost, I’m a Conservative.” He’s deceiving people, making them think he cares about the Conservative Movement or the Republican Party, when in fact, his wallet is his only priority. He’s a shill, by definition.

“Federal Farmer” posted a very insightful comment about presiding over a debate, as opposed to getting involved in one. He felt we were both insulting. Here’s part of what was said:

In moderating this post and subsequent discussion, I am reminded that George Washington did not proffer his opinion on any of the debated topics during the constitutional convention because he was presiding. To preside literally means to stand before (from the latin). Being partisan on whatever issue is being debated detracts from ones credibility, and thus ability, to preside. Were I to have sided with Micheal Kontras, for example, “Mr. Doe” would not have given my effort to moderate the discussion much credibility. He would have begun fighting me, which would have put me in a conflict of interest…protecting myself vs. managing the blog. It is possible that Mr. Doe could then post a comment that contributes to the discussion even though it attacks me. I would be operating in a conflict of intersts–that of protecting myself and managing the blog.

I mention this as a hypothetical (in actuality, I view both parties to the dispute as being out of line in insulting the other) because I don’t think we as Americans realize that when the US President takes sides on an issue being debated, he undercuts his credibility to preside.

I agree with 99% of “Federal Farmer’s” comments.

Sincerely,

www.MichaelKontras.com

PS - I received an e-mail from “Federal Farmer” later in the evening. Here’s some of what he had to say: “Thanks for visiting my blog… I’ve learned a lot today in terms of political theory (yes, I am too logical! lol) from moderating that discussion.  Mr. Doe has sent two additional comments that contained insults so I am blocking further posts from him. In any case, I appreciated that you stopped fighting with him.  I don’t know how I could have made it more transparent for him that I didn’t want continued insults.  Like I said in the blog, who knows what sorts of psychologies play out in politics at the grassroots level?”

Another good question.

Tu ce fel de supererou esti? Avem disponibile rolul printului, ce impreuna cu calul lui hiper-fantastic o salveaza pe printesa din turn. Avem de asemena rolul mezinului care o salveaza tot pe printesa dar fara ajutor si el se bate cu balaurul. Daca mai cautam bine avem roul Curajosului care salveaza lumea de teroristi si alte spurcaciuni, avem rolul lui Pikachu care ii pune la punct pe “echipa racheta”, il avem pe omul invizibil care ajuta politia, fiind martorul ocular cel mai de pret, mai este daca cautam bine Agenta secreta minune, care are un laser in ruj, si cutite in unghii, daca vrei disponibilizam si rolul lui Spiderman dar te anunt ca am arahnofobie, te-ar prinde bine rolul de salvator al inelelor, decat sa te vad pe matura lui Harry. Ti-ar sta bine si imbracat in negru, cu ochelari la ochi. Ai putea sa alegi rolul vindecatorului suprem, sau poate chiar desteptul dar daltonistul John Doe..ai atatea optiuni! Daca tot vrei sa fii un supererou…

Eu vroiam un om normal, o persoana fara cauza, fara mod, fara timp, fara loc…o idee.