Peer 2 Peer

Browsing the internet is powerful. With some simple key strokes I found this, this, this, and a whole bunch of free stuff. The web as we know it is bar far the largest brain in history; An active encyclopedia containing an unimaginable amount of information, no matter how comely or obsequious. Except, of course, if you live in China. The rest of us bathe blissfully in Net Neutrality, usually taking it for granted. This is how Wikipedia (however unreliable) defines Net Neutrality,

"A neutral broadband network is one that is free of restrictions on content, sites, or platforms, on the kinds of equipment that may be attached, and on the modes of communication allowed, as well as one where communication is not unreasonably degraded by other communication streams."

That statement, when applied to any other medium in our present society, is completely ludicrous and unimaginable; Free of restrictions. Apply it to driving. Drug laws. The Ten Commandments. It sounds belligerent in practice, but inside the ever-growing mind of the internet, it's all available at the slightest whim of your most current avatar. As most of us know, that means free music, TV, movies, applications, and whatever else you can think of. If you're a pirate, that is. And the government no-like pirates. They're seedy purloiners, crafty no-good-knicks of questionable character and taste, brash bothersome beasts with no respect for brevity. They use slang like w00t, p2p, and "jive-turkey". And just this morning, I saw one leave these two DVDs on a bench at the Montrose L stop... ahem. Clearly, there are no rules in the series of tubes. Kids these days...

FREE MP3: GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR ME:
Grizzly Bear - Two Weeks

Fievel Goes South

My cat killed this little guy, hunted him down like a wounded bison-baby on the Serengeti. I imagine the struggle was quick. Nevertheless, I found it appropriate to honor the lost quadruped through graphic depiction of his final moments. I also invented various, assumed anthropomorphic qualities about his past life - like wearing hats or small bow-ties with cumber-buns. I think he would have liked it that way. And so, goodbye my fair and brief friend, i hope you enjoy whatever afterlife this world holds specially for mice that have fallen victim to violent homicide by my cat.

So long, Fievel

Look, Listen

If you've been craving incredibly funky, obscure, off-the-rack goodness, then I highly recommend Chances With Wolves. These guys love Mo Town, De La Soul, and the Blues, and that's just a small portion of what you'll hear. Their shows truly span the ages. One of my favorite finds is a guy called Francis and the Lights. His new video (a free HD download) is damn smooth. The moves are tricky, but I've managed to recreate the entire routine in my room, exploding lights included.

Try starting with Episode 33. You'll hear Francis cover Kanye's "Can't Tell Me Nothin".

NOW GO PUT WOLVES IN YOUR EARS

A Terrible Secret Revealed...

Things have finally come to a head, and, like most men trapped inside their own downfall, I admit fault only after it is far too late.

My intentions were honest; Has not time travel been the dream of man since the cumbersome invention of chronology itself? I say this only to soften my own mistakes, I see now what I have unleashed upon us. I stand before you a grave-digger, but not of the fleeting soil beneath our feet. I have unearthed those lost in time.

have you seen me?

A simple device, really, no larger than a nickel (who knew?) propelled my collective energy through ages past, to a time of forgotten beasts and mans' early brother. I found myself surrounded by story book creatures, life who's appearance we merely hypothesize, dodging the footsteps of tyrannical lizards and ducking into stalactite riddled caves. Upon entering said cave, I met a young cave-person who's gender I am still confused about. After much screaming, biting, and debating, Sean Connery (I named him such, as theretofore he had none) proceeded to burst into a maniacal fit. I soon realized he was only reacting to my casual lighting of a cigarette. The chap had never seen fire like this before. Understanding the full weight of my opportunity, I proceeded to educate Sean. We began with man-made fire, making fires ranging in size from torch to forest. Having burnt down a significant portion of their forests, I demanded Sean and his fellow mongoloids till the soil, and thus, taught them agriculture. After crafting a bow and a small pistol from rocks, Sean and I went over the fundamentals of capitalism. Having done my part starting society as we know it, I bid Sean and his motley crew adieu and returned home through the 16th dimension.


Only now, having returned, do I realize that I've forgotten to close the door of time behind me, leaving an open womb in space for all of god's hideous creatures to crawl through. The situation has become a little more dire recently, as I may have accidentally spent the device on a loose cigarette on 8th & Driggs. As far as I know, the Satan-Lizards have a strong aversion to lime-oil spray, so you may want to stop by your local pet shop and procure some. Wait, I might be thinking of cats...

Unrelated MP3: Good For You, Good For Me:
Miniature Tigers - Dino Damage

I Want Steak

This woeful, still declining, head-ache of an economy has made me think a single thought, repetitively and with much vigor of imagination. A delicious steak. I can't afford one, but I mean, shit, sometimes a brother needs grilled meat on his plate. Goddamn.

Unrelated MP3: Good for you, Good for me:
Os Mutantes - Panis Et Circenses Reprise

Wanna buy a drawing?

If you like what you see, you can buy the original for $10. Just send me an email at bobby.otten@gmail.com and tell me which one you want. Every drawing on the site is available, and more will be coming soon.

(or, just save them to your hard drive. that's usually cheaper).

Enjoy

Free MP3: Good For You, Good For Me:
J. Period f. De La Soul - Excursions (Tribute Remix)

Graphic Procrastination

So here's something I've been working on tonight. Why? I have no idea. But I did find this new Mos Def song, so, yeah, that's pretty cool.

UNRELATED MP3: GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR ME:
Mos Def - Quiet Dog

We Know Where You Live

Introducing... these guys. They're homeless. Their friends. They talk. And one of them knows where you live. I'd keep away from him...

UNRELATED MP3: GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR ME.
Serge Gainsbourg - L'eau A La Bouche

Save My Paper!

I wrote this post on a computer. This is an obvious and unnecessary statement. I tell you this only to stress that, until recently, I wrote exclusively on paper. I didn't choose paper and pen because of some kind of nostalgic romanticism (which I do have. i mean, come on). I used a bic because my broke ass couldn't afford a mac, or dell, or hp, or whatever else exists (although i would only ever buy a mac. i mean, come on). Let's be honest - these shits are expensive. And fragile, doomed, Osteogenesis-like, money pits. I understand their power, but when it comes to their lifespan... jeeze.

Let's return for a moment to the 19th century. It's 1874, Sholes & Glidden introduces the first mass-marketed typewriter. The price of the sonofabitch was about $100. Adjusted for inflation, today that's about $2,200. That kind of loot could get you some pretty hot shit in the world of computers, and in five years, you'll spend it again because your computer is now obsolete, or, in most cases, fried and unusable. In 1874, it bought you a machine that still works in the year 2008. The same damn machine. After 200 years of use. That, my friend, is engineering and craftsmanship.



Now, I understand that a typewriter is technically obsolete, but the damn things still work. $2,000 should buy a product that lasts, not something that dies in 5 years after casual use like word processing and trolling the darkest depths of the inter-tubes for bi-species pornography.



Still, none of this will matter when theorists unlock the secrets of quantum binary, implant it into your dell, and the machines rise against us and turn us all into zombies. Until then, I want my hard-earned green backs to go towards a product that's gonna live longer than my cat.

zombie no like intel-based OS!

So, before the robots eats our brains, enjoy the beautiful typewriter pictures courtesy of bee jellyfish, and clear your cache for christ's sake, it's full of sin.

UNRELATED MP3: GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR ME:
Animal Collective - My Girls

Welcome Back

Who loves long exposure? This fool, that's who. So I hung out in a dark alley-ways. I lit sparklers. I consorted with seedy characters of questionable moral standard and hygiene. After an inquisitive discussion about "A Movable Feast", an arm wrestling contest from which I'm still recovering, a few long-exposure-sparkler-shots, and a thorough taste test of assorted bum wines (Wild Irish Rose is a personal favorite), I awoke in an abandoned back lot with Mjöllnir pounding inside my head and a set of shots I have no recollection of taking. I've posted them below, where the Wild Things Are:

UNRELATED MP3, GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR ME:
French Kicks: Abandon (care of eric)

Burger King: F**k You, World

The fast food industry inside North America has a death grip on the lower class. This is not news. Incredibly unhealthy products aimed at those without options is now a standard in this country. Burger King alone has almost 11,500 stores open worldwide in 69 different nations, and every single one serves a burger with a Glycemic index of 250. The daily recommended index is 100, and it relates to the effects of carbohydrates on blood glucose levels. Plainly stated, if a diabetic ate a Whopper, he would be dead 2 and 1/2 times over. The Whopper is 59% fat. Seriously. In my opinion, that's damn disgusting.

WHOPPER NUTRITIONAL FACTS

take a look at the % daily value

It gets better. Burger King has introduced a new add campaign called "Whopper Virgins". Under this campaign, the assholes have decided to fly their death-patties to, and I quote, "a remote hill village in Thailand, a rural farming community in Romania, and the icy tundra of Greenland". What do all of these places have in common? Extreme poverty and malnutrition. The idea is to get someone who's never even heard of a burger before to definitively declare the Whopper champion. In reality, Burger King is exploiting impoverished peoples' hunger-pains, feeding them something that could potentially be so shocking to their system it could kill them, and then leaving them immediately after to continue living in economic turmoil. The lack of respect for human life inside the fast food and advertising industry is becoming criminal. In terms of exploitation, this is about as disgusting and blatant as it gets.

Economic aide? Yeah, right, grandpa!

Medical supplies? Guess again, farmer Lu!

Hands tired and dirty from a lifetime of manual labor? A cardiac arrest will take your mind off that, quick!

As a reader of this blog, I urge you to boycott anything Burger King (I realize all 3 of my readers most likely do this without thinking) and tell your friends to do the same. Burger King is already waging a war against the health of the American lower-class, now they're taking it to people who don't even have the means to realize they're eating cow garbage.

In honor of my unquenchable anger at Burger King, here's this:

Lily Allen - Fuck You

Regional Dining: A Photo Essay

In my never ending quest to assimilate, I decided to sample one of the local delicacies that I see loitering along so many grocery store shelves here in Lefferts Garden, Brooklyn. I'm talking about the regional favorite, Scrapple. I paid $2.99, took the brick of beef mush home, and documented its preparation. Before I get to the photos, let's go over the list of ingredients as seen on the packaging:

beef broth, beef, beef tripe, corn meal, beef hearts, rye flour, beef livers, salt, dehydrated onion, spice, dextrose, garlic powder

For those of you who are unaware of beef tripe, learn all about it here. It'll wet your appetite.

Without further ado:

I chose beef over pork because it was $1 cheaper

here it is, in all of its brick-like glory

it smells like burning plastic when its cooking

it looks slightly tastey after its been fried to hell

the juice means its good

the test

the aftermath

The final verdict? It's hard to say. The taste wasn't terrible, it kind of resembled left-over roast beef, with a hint of garlic. The deal breaker was its texture. To quote my roommate, Ryan, who also tried the beef puree block, "I don't mind the taste, but the texture is f***ing terrible, like soggy grizzle and do-do".

Will I eat it again? Yes. I mean, shit, I'm broke as hell. I can get used to the texture. And I remember hearing that if you eat the hearts of your enemies, you gain their power. So call me Cow-Warrior and go try some yourself. Get it here. It's the perfect holiday treat. And it'll be the exact shape of the can when you open it. Yum.

Start Your Watches

You're doing it now.

I just got done doing it.

It satisfies at first, but after it's finished, a feeling of loneliness and regret sets in. I am, indeed, writing about internet browsing. The national average spends roughly 3 hours a day on the internet. So, taking today's youth and their digital lifestyle into consideration, and using the age range of 10 - 60, the average dirt-bag on the street will have spent 54,600 hours navigating the series of tubes. That's 6.23 years. Yes, you read that correctly. By the time we're worm food, we've spent an entire goldfish's lifespan looking at pornography (or whatever other filth you look at on the web). We've become slaves to our own vehicle, like a baby with its head stuck in a stroller.

this picture has little to do with the post, but, boy, is it funny

I found these numbers incredibly devastating. In an unfettered explosion of angst, I signed up for a site called DAYTUM. It's dedicated to charts and graphs, all of which are fully customizable. I plugged in my findings (that's right, I have findings) and this is what showed up. Presenting:

Life in the Tubes: The Time We Spend Browsing

The light gray is time spent on the web. The dark gray is everything else. In my mind, that light grey slice is too damn big.

Having seen my wasted life in pie chart form, I proceeded to document other, equally boorish, activities. Such pretty charts for such a sad, sad reality.

stuff i smoke

food i eat

transportation

places i go

So there you have it, totally arbitrary pie charts. Here's a song about reading this blog:

The Cool Kids - Wasting Time

Enjoy, turkeys.

Birds of a Feather... you know the rest

One of the many classic set pieces of New York, or any large city in the world, is the famed filth-covered, disease-riddled, slightly deformed... pigeon (substitute "bum" where appropriate). These monsters haphazardly roam our streets in search of our garbage, or, in pigeon terms, lunch. So why have the pigeons taken to human society so well? Why do they insist on following us down the sidewalk and flapping in our faces when all other birds flee in a flight of feverish frenzy? Because we feed and house the rotten bastards. Our refuse - Their breakfast. Our roofs - Their living room. Our statues - Their toilet.

Little Suzy was too busy jamming on her iPod to notice the flock of murderous birds above

Our relationship with the winged rat has not always been so symbiotic. At one point, in the early 1700's, wild pigeons gathered in flocks that rivaled Biblical plagues. In fact, the now extinct Passenger Pigeon constituted one of the largest animal flocks in the world, second only to locusts, another wrath-of-god favorite. So, in a grand exercise in futility, the Roman Catholic bishop of Quebec formally excommunicated the species from the church. What effect did that have? Other than handing over a huge army of dirty beasts to Satan, absolutely nothing.
So, in the truest form of human expression, we killed and ate them all. Seriously. We destroyed the second largest flocking group of animals in the world. And ate them. The last one was named "Martha". She bit the dust in 1914, effectively ending the era of wild pigeons as we know them. I'm not sure if they ate her. Having to be named "Martha" is quite painful enough.

Martha probably tasted like chicken

The next time you see a pigeon bobbing its absent-minded head down the street, don't scowl, huff, grumble, or squeal. Instead, take solace in the fact that you've seen this video, and chuckle to yourself gently as you think of great-great-grandpa bird-trapper dinning on one of the little fuckers.

Biological Taxonomy: A Photo Essay

Today I find myself mulling over the inflammatory debate started in the 1980's. Yes, I am indeed talking about the "Kingdom" debate. 28 years ago, a wild scientist decided that there are actually 6 animal Kingdoms instead of the rudimentary 5 Kingdoms that had been in place for so long. To this day, American text books list 6 Kingdoms, while British and Australian books list the archaic 5. I know this is a tired subject, one that fills coffee houses and college dorms alike, but I feel the need to add my input.

To all the British and Australians: Get your facts right, folks. Any prancing nelly can see that all single-celled organisms and bacteria are not definable by the same or even similar terms. You guys can take your Monera and shove it up your condensed asses. Jesus.

And that brings me to my post for today; A collection of photographs I've taken. Today's theme? Animals! So study the list above, then ignore the fact that these photos have nothing to do with what I just got done ranting about. Enjoy! (click to enlarge)

Phylum: Arthropoda this is a bug i saw. i don't know what kind of bug it was, but damn, it was a tiny bug.


bug detail


Phylum: Arthropoda this is a Drosophila (fruit fly) worshiping a piece of melon. after he finished praying, i ate the melon. then i ate the fly.


Phylum: Arthropoda i thought this bee was taking a nap. turns out he was dead.


Phylum: Arthropoda i shined a flashlight at this crab. he stopped and thought about it for a second, then tried to pinch me. he lives in a world of mini-crystals. fuckin hippie.


crab detail


Phylum: Chordata this toad used to live outside my apartment. then it got really cold. like, really, really cold. so yeah, no more toad.


Phylum: Chordata that's a red snapper a guy named max caught. after questioning, turned out the snapper was against the revolution. off with his head.


Phylum: Chordata that's me smoking a smoke. that dog will eat your throat, if i tell it to.

to top everything off, here's an EP only track from Animal Collective: Water Curses

EDIT

Matt Poncho says;

"Being a biologist myself, I feel obligated to be picky about the figure that you asked us to study. First, in the "Life" classification, there are three branches... are these theoretical non-DNA organisms? or Virii perhaps??

Also, it appears from the figure that there are 4 domains instead of the 3 (Bacteria, Archaea, and Eukarya)... what the dilly yo?"