Goof Golf

Or, Reese and Devine make an attempt (Devine's third?; Reese's first) at mastering the time-honored and athletically intense game of GOLF. You can read along with us in your browser.


Devine, ready to own.


Reese, hungry for the greens.


First hole: Devine swings...


...Reese misses.


Repeat for 17 more holes.


Devine: "I'm really starting to appreciate this game!"
Translation: "I just made another double-par."


Reese: "This is insanely boring!"
Translation: "I suck even harder than expected."


A nice view of downtown.


An unfortunate view of our feet.


Devine: "Wow, you're really into the photo-taking."

"Do you mind, Reese?
Trying to play a game here."

Reese: "There's my favorite Irish terrorist."


At weekends, Master Devine took to motoring in
the fashion he favored before becoming a father.


Devine: "Double-par! I rule!"
Reese: "Quadruple-bogey! Let's drink!"

F.O.R.G.E.ry

Regular readers of Mini Nerd may notice some new functionality in the navbar to the right.

Or maybe they won't see it at all, because it's not working.

In the latter case, the reason for the error is the URL you're using to link to Mini Nerd. From here on, please consider the address "www.stephenreese.com/blog" retired and out of service. The new URL is "www.mininerd.com". That's the one you need to type into your address bar for the site to work.

Right then. The first of the new functionalities is something called F.O.R.G.E. (Fantasy Object Random Generator, Eh?). It's the product of Dave's code and my words (plus some from Helms and Trueman - everyone else is welcome to suggest more). Also several hours of frustration and revision as Dave (primarily) and I labored to get the thing working. All you have to do is click the blue "I Dub Thee:" text and you'll receive a randomized silly-sounding fantasy weapon. With our current database of words, over a hundred million combinations are possible. Aww jazzy!

And hey - if F.O.R.G.E. is only amusing to that group of us who grew up together, or those nerds (mini or otherwise) who've played a Dungeons & Dragons campaign at some point in their lives, so be it. Everyone else can safely ignore the extreme geekery and perhaps make use of the new sections and links in the navbar, if they wish - these should make it easier to browse through the content stockpiled on the site so far.

Once again, regular readers: PLEASE change your Mini Nerd URL to "www.mininerd.com" and only use this address to reach the site from now on.

(Thanks to Lisa for the catch.)

Cheers,
Reese

Blorthos Advises

I am Blorthos Malamakk. You are not. So, I tell you what to do.

Dear Blorthos,

I just got married and let me tell you, what a thrill to commit to spending the rest of my life with the man of my dreams. There's just one problem. My new mother-in-law. She's been over here at our place every second day it seems, giving hubby advice on everything from curtain choices to fertility techniques (the new boxers she's making him wear are about as far from form-fitting and sporty as you can get).

Thing is, he's totally okay with this. It's like he never left home and he's happy to have Mom around to take care of all these things even a grown man apparently can't come to grips with. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm starting to feel like the "other woman", who doesn't have enough experience, wisdom, or a deep-enough connection with my own freaking husband to make the best choices for him in clothing, decor, reproductive readiness - even home entertainment systems, if you can believe it.

What should I do, Blorthos?

Sincerely yours,
Out-Of-Control Freak

Hmm.

This big problem. Three step.

1) Select double-blade axe.
2) Run at "mother-in-law".
3) Swing axe many time. She grunt if hit her.
4) Sometime miss. Keep going make point gone.
4) Finish. Loot corpse.

BONUS STEP: Loot everything in room fast right away.

Regard,

Notes To Self

1) Do not people-watch while riding your bike at night.

1a) You can prevent damage to the paintjob of a parked car by throwing your hands out to deflect your bike away from the vehicle as you discover you're headed straight for it with no time to make a course correction. This results in your body being thrown to the asphalt and your bike clattering underneath the endangered car. It also results in an embarrassed "No really, I'm good." to the bemused couple who were the subject of your sideways glance-to-sidewalk seconds earlier.

2) Do not brake when you jump a curb to avoid splashing a puddle.

2a) The speed at which you get to your feet and put your sunglasses back on after the resulting head-over-handlebars is directly proportional to the ability of concerned motorists to believe you are okay and get on with their morning business.

3) The third crash in this trilogy has yet to occur, but I'll make a guess at what follows:

3a) Wear a helmet, jackass.

Detail Work

I put together that Wagner remix tonight (the day before the deadline, as I often end up doing - thanks to Neil for reminding me!). But I'm not sure if I'm allowed to make the thing public while contest judging takes place. And I'd like to let it sit for a day to see if I still don't mind it tomorrow (after all, I've got 'til midnight on the 21st to submit!). So instead I'll post a quick touch-up of an earlier mix - the earliest, in fact, of this new era with my new software that replaces ye olde turntables, mixer and sampler.

I made it for my sister last year during a very happy time in my life full of possibility, new love, and enthusiasm for getting back to being creative outside my scheduled work hours. Sis found this cool album on iTunes by a band called Frou Frou (as I understand, their first exposure to North American ears was in that bore of a movie Garden State), and it was providing a perfect breakup soundtrack for her. She gave me a listen and damn if I didn't tweak to it too. But there was a section in the "first draft" of this mix I wasn't happy with, a transition that always bothered me. So after fiddling with Wagner tonight, I took 45 mins to fix 'er up. And noticed a few other parts that needed fixin' too! That's what it's like when you revisit earlier work, I find: you revise.

This one goes back nine months, to November 2005.

Now I close the circle: All In The Details

P.S. Clem and Lisa have arrived safely in Montreal! I had a great time at their going-away party, from looking at the late summer moon in Clem's unbelievable homemade telescope, to discussing spirituality and Ginger with Aaron and Brandy, to watching a stunning display of fire dancing by the lovely Audrya (Calgary readers can check it out on 17 Avenue throughout the current Fringe Festival). I'll miss C&L, one of my favorite married couples, but I wish them bon chance and hope to come visit them soon!

The Truth

Whaddaya know, it's raining!

So that's why Kevin and I aren't out riding.

Well, not really.

1) I haven't put the fixed tire back on my bike yet.

2) I am still sooooooooo tired and I don't know why.

3) Kevin went drinking instead. Hard choice, I know.

So Radiohead plays (new soundtrack?); chicken noodle soup settles in my stomach; Neil and I consider which golf course to make fools of ourselves on this weekend.

In Portugal, Dave pretends to be on vacation while swinging business deals.

T-MINUS A FEW DAYS TO MONTREAL for Clem and Lisa.

Doug is home cleaning out The Sauna.

Thanks to Bill for checking in.

Phong will climb to the saddle this weekend, but likely without me.

Take 'er away, boys:

Drying up in conversation
You will be the one who cannot talk
All your insides fall to pieces
You just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you
When you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you
You will be the one screaming out

It's the best thing that you've ever had
The best thing that you've ever, ever had
It's the best thing that you've ever had
The best thing you've had has gone away.

They Lie

So you're walking into work and it's the usual: try to figure out stuff that can't be figured, try to solve unsolvable problems.

You skipped your meds for a day and had the most vivid dreams. Something about Jeopardy (which you can't watch anymore) and one competitor is this jackass who refuses to look forward at the game screens and so demands Alex Trebek stand in a row beside the contestants. This throws everybody off and he wins the game - also because he's loud and rude and answers every question. Somehow you're on the set as they're taping this episode, but you keep to yourself, avoiding the cameras (though they catch you a few times - you're wearing a baseball cap to hide your eyebrows). Later, you help teenagers move lumber off-stage. Then you're flying around a stockyard, pretty high, trying to slow down enough to land without killing yourself. And your mother is there and she thinks together you can swindle the world. Just fly home.

Or something.

There was an earlier one where you could swear you were crying in your sleep and for a moment you understood your parents' entire relationship, every year of it, though your Dad leaves her so soon because your junk is taking over each room of the house and there's no space for whatever it is he needs space for. He knocks it all over and gets in a crummy old Camaro and drives off in winter, leaving her with you kids. Now your stuff is buried in snowdrifts along the dirt road, everything you used to care about - teddy bears and love letters and awards you won in track and field, charm bracelets too. It's all frozen over, and muddy, and people are walking and driving on it. You want your Dad to come barreling back down this road in that stupid Camaro and have a car crash right in front of you. That would be better than this.

She's sitting in her 70s suede jacket, playing guitar in the corner, telling you that you're good kids and it wasn't your fault.

None of it was your fault.

Today.

You're sick of talking to yourself because you're not such a good listener. The clouds are bunched and bubbled like airborne grey matter (yeah, like somebody's brain - how's that?) but they're only threatening and their bark is way worse than their bite. Ain't no rain coming. Just flirting with you like always, sunny day/grey day. Wishing something would happen. Wishing it would all fall out.

It stays in.

Pretty

Well, it didn't take long for this to happen.

Not sure what the kids are calling them these days.

Mashup? Tom Petty vs Radiohead?

I call it a minimix: Damaged Fake Plastic Love

Petty

The new Tom Petty is beautiful. I just listened to it three times in a row and can't say I won't do another before bed.

I've always loved Petty's distinctive voice and killer hooks, but what I'm enamored with this time out are his lyrics. So many elegant turns of phrase on this LP, puns and punchlines with just enough ring of truth to avoid cliche, simple statements that speak right to my core and sting tears outta me. But don't think it's a bummer. Every track is shower-singable, air-guitarable - pure pop.

Following is a sample of what you can hear Tom sing on Highway Companion, an album that, true to its name, is made for the long road - for driving hard away from your pain, returning home to excavate what's left of you, then turning that damn car around and heading back to the front lines to keep on fighting. Amen.

From "Saving Grace":

I'm passing sleeping cities
Fading by degrees
Not believing all I see to be so

I'm flying over backyards
Country homes and ranches
Watching life between the branches below

And it's hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway
Don't you baby?

From "Higher Ground":

Had to find some higher ground
Had some fear to get around
You can say what you don't know
Later on won't work no more

Square one, my slate is clear
Rest your head on me, my dear
It took a world of trouble, took a world of tears
It took a long time to get back here

Tried so hard to stand alone
Struggled to see past my nose
Always had more dogs than bones
I could never wear those clothes

It's a dark victory
You won and you are so lost
Told us you were satisfied, but it never came across

From "Flirting With Time":

A flash of light reminded me of you
This could well be your last stand
Hold the sunlight in your hand
Spread your fingers, feel the sand fall through
I've done all I can do, now it's up to you

You're flirting with time baby
Flirting with time, but maybe
Time baby, is catching up with you

You cried out and no one came to you
I've done all I can do, now it's up to you

Should be more to learn from this
Can't say I know what it is
No difference 'tween a hit or miss, it's true
I've done all I can do, now it's up to you

From "Jack":

You say what you want to Jack, I'm gonna get my baby back
Trouble came right away, now you say she's gone to stay
Cough it up, hit the street, left without a word to me
Oh oh, you don't know, how that girl could touch my soul

You say what you want to Jack, I'm gonna get my baby back

Suddenly you know my name, say there's only me to blame
It's gonna rain, it's gonna shine, gotta stay between the lines
Rolling down a lonely road, you say I should let it go
Wish you would come on down, if you need I'll come around

If you give me half a chance, I will make her sing and dance
I'm gonna give her all my soul, I'm gonna play her rock 'n roll

From "Damaged By Love":

She don't care about time
Time gets in her way
Fades into the wind
Days roll into days

She's got nothing to hide
And she hides it so well
Keeps broken dreams
To fix up and sell

Damaged by love
So young, and damaged by love

Eyes down at my door
And she holds out her hand
I love you so deep
But you can't understand

From "This Old Town":

Living free is gaining on me
Can't keep ahead of my dreams
My relief turned out a thief
Smooth as rocks in the stream

From "The Golden Rose":

Wish I was back in her arms again
Wish I was holding her tight
Wish I was back in her arms again
Safe from the night

She stood on the shore and she waved to me:
"Come back home"
Many a night I would think of her
All alone

And my favorite, from "Ankle Deep":

Took all winter...to get through the summer.

Owwww

Dave climbed a volcano in Portugal with his wife and her relatives. He has an amazing tale to tell about it, involving the overnight survival of sub-zero temperatures when a tremendous storm traps his group at mountain-top.

Unfortunately, he won't let me say more than that until he records the story himself. I hope to offer it here at Mini Nerd soon.

In the meantime, I believe my subconscious was looking for something even slightly worthy of mention alongside Dave's extreme and extraordinary experience. Best I can do is neither unexpected nor uncommon: getting sick wasted on a Friday night in Cowtown.

It's been a hard week. But one shouldn't mix beer with gin with sake, only eating raw fish (which makes me gag ordinarily) at the end of several hours of this behavior. One also shouldn't try their first cigarette during such a marathon session, but I did all of the above and more and found myself hunched over a public sink purging former sea-dwellers, what was left of Sylvie's cake, and assorted/unidentified brackish sludge that could very well be whatever my unsuspecting lungs inhaled earlier - and I must say, nicotine produces a unique and satisfying buzz, sort of puffy and smooth in the head. I immediately wanted more of the same.

I write all this not to gross you out but because life makes for fun material and I process things with words. That said: though I'm not curled over a befouled sink any longer, my tingling hands, pasty complexion, and the unpleasantly throbbing gristle of my head and neck require more than paragraphs to be banished. So I'm off to the diner to do the deed with greasy sausage (always an effective hangover cure) and runny eggs.

Kind, kind thanks to Jon and Crista for sticking by me in extremis, talking me out of the baffroom and hastily-closing sushi shack, hailing a cab while I crouched, and showing an overall care and diligence with this drunkard I was most grateful to benefit from.

I'll get that Underworld for you by Tuesday, Jon, mark my words.

Lastly, apologies to Sunny - with whom I would have scaled my own excuse for a volcano out in Kananaskis this morning if I could have at least walked upright.

A distinguished start to the long weekend!

Proud Parasite

Calgary readers:

My buddy Tim has a new show at Art Central downtown. Please go check it out. He's a sweet, caring guy with an incredible skill for drawing robots, monsters, cute girls and assorted undead in an approachable, ultra-fun illustrative style that never fails to win a smile or a laugh from me.

The show is called "Parasitic Tendencies" and tonight at the opening I listened to Tim explain the pieces' titles - they're named after his friends. Partway through the naming process, he realized he was calling his friends parasites, sticking their John Henries under magnified, cartoonish close-ups of internal biological nasties in dayglo red and yellow. Personally, I'm honored to be a parasite on the glowing talent that is Tim - though I didn't see my name anywhere in the titles. Boo.

For the faint of heart, rest easy: it's not just parasites on display. On the other wall is a collection of Tim's gig posters for Broken City, which I am thrilled to own a few of and are, for me, an iconic part of the club's visual imprint. You may have seen them around downtown on telephone poles and such. Tim likes that kids would tear them down and steal them for their own private collections.

Also supercool is that Carbon Media has a great selection of Threadless t-shirts on site for decent prices. I grabbed a ray gun print that will see regular rotation on my torso. And geez, I had no idea Art Central had so many nifty boutiques, galleries and studios to browse. I've usually just breezed in and out to grab breakfast at Siding Cafe, but this time I trolled all three floors and was heartened to see art in the middle of Cowtown. And busy! Lots of people! Even ran into Michal and Aviv.

Here are the precise deets for Tim's show:

Parasitic Tendencies
Carbon Media Design (lower floor)
Art Central
#3 100 7 Ave SW
403-802-0350
info@carbonmedia.ca

NOW WITH HELPFUL DATES ADDED! (thanks Neil)

Show runs from 3 August thru 30 August

Go. Seriously. Check out the rest of the digs too. It's good stuff.

And in case you missed the embedded links above, there's a decent sampling of Tim's work linked here at GigPosters.

Ivory-Filtered Shake

CBC Radio Music Commissions presents Compose Yourself

This is so silly I can't resist:

A competition to remix Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries.

I've never liked this tune's pompous strut, though Bill and I used it in our own leitmotif "Nordic Weedhunters", perhaps the most enjoyable short we made during film school. There's something undeniably cinematic about Wagner, especially in Valkyries near the bridge and climax. I can hear E.T. and Star Wars in there.

Anyway, I'm gonna give it the old college try and see how much abuse Wagner can take. Thanks to Amanda for the keyboard that'll let me actually play notes with my composing software now instead of drawing them, to Martin for letting me know of the contest, and to Nanagram for the title of this post. Other anagrams for "Ride of the Valkyries" that were runners-up:

veiled freak history
tires forked heavily
forsake, thrive, yield
flaky diver theories
festive, leaky, horrid
fried, stroke heavily
fever strike holiday

I invite other audio nerds to enter as well! HO JO TO HO!

A Reminder

Look, one more thing here before I go to sleep:

Presume (you know why your life has gone this way)
Subsume (a new understanding replaces the old one)
Resume (continue onward, ready for new knowing)

As with Dave's code, which I post here for him usually as a reminder (and a preservation) of what he has realized and wants to protect (somewhere, somehow), the above simple "action-items" (to use the vernacular of the very cool company for whom I make sentences, and to whom I owe my hopefully continued financial stability) are a kick in the arse for me, a neon sign in the endless dark I can easily create for myself when I don't grok to whatever the universe is arranging at this particular point on the time object - and I would do well to heed it all, daily, ad infinitum.

Thanks again to the redoubtable Grant Morrison, my favorite living writer, who continues to make me quake in "presumption" (see above) of inferiority and inspire me to do something as lovely as he has done for me (and others) with his words and ideas. To paraphrase a certain movie: "I am not worthy. I am not worthy."

But I will try to be.

-Reese.

P.S. You'd be right to presume (haha) alcohol lubricates such a personal and confidential (trusting, really) post, but I've been closed/guarded for some months now (for obvious reasons) and often it takes a little judicious imbibing to exploit the chink in the armor and crack me open for sharing what I would like to every day, if not through personal interaction with each and every one of you whom I love, then at least through words, only words, which hopefully aren't taken from me as so many other things can be taken in this life. Et ceteri, et cetera and his brother Pete.

P.P.S. re: Grant, it's Animal Man I just finished reading, and it was just as wonderful as fellow fans told me it would be. I'm blown away and humbled. Again.

You're It

I propose some communal navel-gazing to start off August.

Who Are You?

Found the above through Bill Slease at GigaGiggles; the site offering it is FULL of many other interesting diversions, so I encourage you to rummage around there too - but for now, we have this personality test called Johari that compares what you think of yourself to what others think of you. It's sure to start some conflicts; better yet, some reevaluations; and potentially best of all, greater self-awareness for everyone!

Tagging Absent Canadian, Edie and her folks, Mr Curry, the Dark Knight, the Grumpy Bear, Dawne, Pucca and Zeri with this. If you're reading along and you blog, consider yourself tagged too.

Let's see some self-obsession!