The Meaty Efreeti

Monday, February 27, 2006

I'd also like to apologize about the strange, strained tone of that post... I've been sick. =] j.s.

I’d like to talk about Sigur Ros for a moment if I might.
Thanks.

Luis and I went to their show at Verizon last night, and it was absolutely unbelievable.
The opening band, Amina, was a quartet of remarkably talented young girls (I reckoned they were between the ages of 12 and 16), who played their music with a youthful enthusiasm that I haven’t seen at a live show in, you know I can’t remember ever seeing it actually.
Their setup consisted of several violins, xylophones, glockenspiels, a harp, cello, sitar, 4 wine goblets with varying amounts of water, a phalanx of small hand bells (the kind you’d summon a concierge with at a hotel) and a saw, which were each stationed in orbit around an iMac.

They were awesome.
Awesome and utterly adorable, with their little Icelandic accents and shy demeanors.

Then, after a very short break, Sigur Ros came on and proceeded to turn the Verizon Theatre space into one of joyful liminality, vibrating with childhood innocence, sonic dissonance, and heartaching beauty.

For the uninitiated, Jón Þór Birgisson, the lead singer/guitarist of Sigur Ros, uses a cello bow on his guitar to create their trademark soundscapes. (I was hesitant to use the word “soundscape” there for fear of sounding like a “Pure Moods XII” infomercial, but that really seems to be the best term for it.)
Sometimes gently coaxing out a lone note with a smooth slide of his bony arm, and at other times feverishly sawing away at the strings as if trying to cut the guitar in half to reach a more primal and raw center.
The resulting sound at once cacophonous yet rich, brutal yet gossamer, comforting yet haunting.

These aural contradictions culminated in their finale, where a brilliant lighting scheme alternated the audience’s focus from a white screen at the back of the stage, to the band members themselves, to their silhouettes outlined on a diaphanous fabric at the front of the stage, to a projection of television static. (Onto that same thin fabric.)
This had the effect of overwhelming the senses, and forcefully pushing and pulling your depth perception through the peaks and troughs of their final composition of the evening.

It was, in short, unbelievably beautiful.

And those of you who were lucky enough to have been there no doubt walked out with an enlightened smile on your face, a serotonin-soaked calmness in your demeanor, and radiant and peaceful glow in your soul.

Not a bad way to spend a Saturday evening.

j.s.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Good afternoon my lovelies.

Honestly there hasn't been a whole lot to talk about this week.
The O.C. was cancelled due to lack of interest last night, so I went over to Cecil's with Luis and Johnathan instead.
Always a good time.

Speaking of which, Luis picked up an extra ticket for Sigur Ros on Saturday, which is teh aweschome, so looks like I'll be Verizoning with him tomorrow evening and gettin' our Hopelandic on.

Which means I should probably lay low tonight, and just chill at home.
Hell, I might even get domestic and make some tabouli.
Tabouli whilst doing laundry...perhaps I'll even crack open the bottle of Pinot I've had sitting in my rack for over a month now...
Hmmm.

That sounds really good actually.
I think I'll get started on that right now.

Have an awesome weekend.

j.s.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Okay seriously...

Here I am, sitting at Agora, trying to get my work done, and some overly amorous, sappy, lovestruck Valentines Day throwback has completely taken over the jukebox.
This could be Krishna rolling over me for laughing at the marathon Maelstrom session at Lovejoy's this weekend past...

But "Feelin' Good" by Nina Simone was on, then "At Last" by Etta James, and now it's playing "I've Got You Under My Skin" by Sinatra.

Seriously. That's enough you fucker.
Just climb back into your Blue Mini of Happiness, turn up the "When Harry Met Sally" soundtrack, and drive back to your perfect little midtown loft, where you'll catch up with your perfect little partner, and have the perfect little oregano glazed, steamed veggie, cabernet sauvignon dinner while watching Princess Bride, "because, it's like, our favorite movie ever!" and leave me to simmer in my own bitter reduction.

**growl**

j.s.

Monday, February 20, 2006

I have...returned.

And only slightly the worse for wear after an Austin Alcoholiday.

Recapping this is going to be difficult, as it's shrouded in the murk of Jaeger Bombs and Bass Ales, but I'll give it a go.

Friday we leave Houston at around 3:30 and head for Austin, stopping only to pick up gas station pizza and Tropicana Twisters along the way.
*shudder*
And that was just the beginning of the gastronomic acrobatics performed all weekend...but I'll get to those.

Apparently we drove through a passing cold front on the way up there however, because it was pretty frigid once we got out of the car.
Awesomely frigid.

So we catch up with Bryan at his apt, hang out for a bit, and then head toward the city for the 7:30 pre-drinking drinks. (And you're welcome to come with us next time if you've been known to partake in those as well.)
Gingerman becomes the mutually agreed upon spot, so we head over there for a couple beers. (I actually like our Gingerman better...although theirs is much nicer inside.)
We hang out for an hour, become sufficiently riled up about going out and then leave to wander 6th street in search of the elusive $2 Jaeger Bomb special. But not before I explain, to a very drunk guy sitting at the bar who was having difficulty reading his bar tab, that it was, in fact, written in hieroglyphics.
And that to tip 20% he needed to write "feather, squiggle, eye, hand, squiggle."
He nodded and did so...
I clap him on the back and we take off.

We can't seem to find $2 specials, so we instead settle on $3 ones at "FUEL," a car-themed bar where the tip jars were encased in shock springs (in case you're wondering, these make an AWFUL noise when dropped on a concrete floor), and the bar backs busied themselves by dusting the numerous tin NASCAR/Budweiser signs on the walls.
Needless to say, I was not a fan of FUEL.
2 rapid shots in succession and we're off again...heading for Lovejoy's pub.
A place I actually really liked.

An awesome beer selection, interesting jukebox (which the guys took over and played roughly $10 worth of the death metal band "Maelstrom," over and over), and quite a few cute, indie Austin girls, one of which was sitting at the table next to us and who apparently required a blinking Guinness shamrock neclace to be tucked into the back of her g-string...a problem which Bryan rectified.
It's miraculous we didn't get into a fight with her boyfriend...kudos to that guy for having a sense of humor.

After a while we decide to catch up with Bryan's sister and her gaggle of 22-year-old friends, so we stagger over to another bar where they're having a $1 Long Island Ice Tea hour.
Ouch.

3 LIT's later, we stagger to yet another bar (all I remember of this place is that it had what seemed like a lot of wooden banisters everywhere.)
The Grey Goose & Red Bulls flow here until we tire of the place, and head to yet another bar...where all they have are Bud Lights in cans.
So I order a few and, irritated I'm having to drink from a can, I hurl them across the bar to Bryan and Danny.
This prompts several irritated quips from the bartenders, which I summarily ignore and walk away.

Yeah, we're getting belligerent at this point.

We finish the beers at last call, and head home...swinging by a creepy taco place for a quesadilla on the way. (I've never had an all-dark-meat chicken quesadilla before...and I don't think I'll try it again.)

We pass out when we get home...exeunt Friday.

Saturday

It becomes much colder. And after an off-the-cuff comment about James Coney Island we decide that hot dogs are a brilliant idea, and head to Lucky Dogs.
Which, I'm sad to say, aren't even close to being as good as JCI.
Sorry Austin.

So we hang about at Bryan's place for the rest of the afternoon, and then head out again at around 10ish.
First requirement: coffee. Which we find at an awesome coffee bar called Halcyon.
Seriously.
I think hanging out there was my favorite part of the weekend.

We kick it there for awhile, then head off in search of $2 Jaeger Bombs to start the night.
Which we did, in fact, find.
Although it was at a very strange bar, with a guy on stage playing the electric guitar with his tongue.
This really gave me the jibblies, so after our shots we had to leave immediately.

Back to Lovejoy's, where more death metal Maelstrom ensued, and many more Basses.
We hang out there until a little after 1, and then head to Shakespeare's to finish the night...and yes, I nearly started a fight there with some guy in a Yankees hat.
*sheepish shrug*
What can I say?

After an ill-advised Whataburger run, we head home and pass out again.

Sunday we have a ridiculously tasty burger at Dan's Burgers, and then hang around until it's time to head back home to Houston.

And let me tell you, when it's been cold, clear and crisp in Austin for 3 days, and you get into the Houston city limits and see the smog and feel the general viscosity of the air around here...
Well it's almost enough to move you to turn the car around and never look back at this disgusting city.

I forget sometimes just how dirty and polluted Houston is, until I return from another city and realize just how filthy a place this is.
Sigh.
I have got to get out of here.

And, after receiving a hand-written note from the fine people at Xavier University this weekend expressing their interest in having me as a grad student, perhaps a relocation is in the mail after all.
I'm also considering Tulane University.
But I ask you, Is it wrong to use the environmental atrocities visited upon that city as a wedge to get myself into a school that otherwise wouldn't have looked twice at me?
Perhaps so.
But I'm not above trying...I really love that school.

j.s.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Ahoy sissy.

So I've given this considerable thought, and despite several offers for parties around town I think I'm going to skip the NBA All Star thing that's going on in Houston this weekend, and head for Austin.

I'm just not one for the thuggy flexin' that comes along with these major sporting events.
Sure, the Super Bowl was a good time when it was here...
But then again, I like football
And I couldn't care less about basketball.

So instead I'm heading out of here in Danny's loaner Impala, which will no doubt be...well, random.
It's also possible that I'll catch up with Karina while I'm up there, which would be awesome.
And the whole thing will be made slightly more interesting by the fact that I'm still not feeling all that well.

Beware Austin.
Typhoid Jeremiah approaches, stacks of white Kleenex in his drippy right hand.

It also appears very probable that I will be returning to Austin for the 10th to the 19th of next month for SXSW.
I think I've scored discounted passes from The Magazine, and will be there for all 10 days...resume & writing samples in one hand and my laptop in the other to blog the entirety of the experience.
Just for you.
And it will no doubt be an interesting one since I'm going with absolutely no agenda, no appointments, nowhere to stay, and very little in the way of funding.

And you have no idea how excited that makes me.
I adore this kind of thing.
And it's been far, far too long...

So, and if anyone up there has an open couch that they wouldn't mind lending to a starving writer in search of a break, drop me a line.

Thanks.

**thuggy flex**

j.s.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Hi there.

Yes, I'm feeling slightly better, thank you.

And moreso after seeing THESE.

Yes...I know.
However sometimes I simply cannot repress my inner geek...

j.s.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Today has suddenly become awesome!

I have finally found my favorite cereal in all the world...and it is available for purchase online.

QUISP!!!

At least it was my favorite when I was 5.
We'll see if I still love it...

j.s.

I had completely forgotten what today was.
That is, until I went to my usual homepage and it had, for some reason, turned pink with little roses and hearts everywhere.
A moment of confusion followed, until it hit me...

It's VD.

And since that moment, today has sucked.

Fuck Valentine's Day.
Your momma's an astronaut.

j.s.

(Thanks to J. for sending the pic link.)

Monday, February 13, 2006

I'm quite sure that I have contracted the Asian Bird Flu over the weekend.

After having lunch with my editor on Friday, I promptly came home, threw up, and passed out for 4 hours.

Honestly, I remember almost nothing about Friday.

Which is distressing in its own right, but made more so by the fact that I'm sure my editor and I said very interesting and important things to one another, and I haven't a clue what they were. (I do recall where we had lunch, but only because a Hungry's grilled chicken caesar salad has a very distinctive post-regurgitative look.)

And I've felt like utter hell since then.

So, there won't be much in the way of an exciting weekend recap coming your way today.
Terribly sorry.
Unless of course you find lying under a quilt on the couch, drinking gallons of hot tea in a feverish stupor and being so hopped up on NyQuil that the plot of films like "The Rock" and "Hitch" seem impossible to follow, "exciting."

And who wouldn't really?
Yow!

j.s.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

All of my articles have been canned for March.
Every single one of them.

I'm not sure what I'm feeling about this.
Although "dejection" springs to mind.
As does "fury," since they've created a theme for next month's magazine AFTER the deadline for submissions has passed...
Yes, you read that right.

However, this little setback might be just what I need.
(i.e: I'm feeling scorned, which has pissed me off enough to start my search for somewhere better to be published.)
A search I've begun this very afternoon.

We shall see.

So!
Court went well Tuesday night.

I was the first guy up this time, and there was an interesting moment when my name was called.
One I've been mulling over ever since.

I'm walking toward the bench, and looking the judge in the eye.
And she's staring right back at me in what felt like a quiet battle of egos. (I've since decided that she must be a Leo.)
I smile at her.
And at first she starts to grin back, then forces it away, turning her face into a firm armory of tightened cheeks and pursed lips.

Still eye to eye, I recognize her smirk-masquing and look confusedly at her.
This makes me grin even more; her face gets tighter.

Finally she looks down at the bench for a moment, smiles to herself, then looks back up at me as I stop in front of her.

"Hello Jeremiah."
"Hi."
"You have 4 charges against you: Speeding; Failure to Change Address; Expired Registration; and No Front License Plate."
"Yes, Your Honor." I say, a little sheepishly.
"All of these charges are being dropped. Please sit over there Jeremiah."
"Okay. Thanks!"
"Go." and she points at the benches and smiles quickly and shakes her head at me.

(This War of Smiles had nothing to do with the charges being dropped by the way; that was something else entirely.)

So I sit for a while, pick up my paperwork when I'm called, and then bail.
(I PUN!)

I really don't know why this exchange has resonated with me for so long...
My guess is that it's because it was a setting in which a person simply wasn't supposed to smile at another person, for completely artificial reasons.
Meaning it had nothing to do with anger, loss, or emotion of any kind...
We were complete strangers.
She's just wasn't supposed to smile at me.

And that seems a little strange.

j.s.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

I swear I'm going to update very soon; but things haven't eased up just yet...

For example, today I've been putting together marketing packets that need to be FedEx'd overnight...and I've got to finish them in the next 30 minutes so as not to miss the FedEx guy.

After which, I have to run to night court downtown and deal with the tickets I got a few months ago. (Yes, I'll tell Bull that you say 'hi.')

So, rather than a post, I'll tide you over with today's shot of the pet beard.

BEARD!

Talk to you soon,

j.s.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

End-of-monthiness and March deadline both fall on this Friday.

I've had to move at ninja speed all week, so I haven't had time for much else.
You know, like going home, showering, or even getting up off this couch for that matter.

And it certainly isn't showing, any signs that it is slowing...

Will post when I can.

j.s.