SEA-LIVING

TIPPING IS NOT A CITY IN RUSSIA

Monday, July 31, 2006

Loyalist Militiaman at the Moment of Death, Cerro Muriano, September 5, 1936

The intriguing essay behind one of my favorite photographs "Loyalist Militiaman at the Moment of Death, Cerro Muriano, September 5, 1936." by Robert Capa. The man in the photo was likely a believer in either democracy, anarchism of some form, or communism. He was felled by the fascist bullets of General Francisco Franco's rebel army.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Dick Cheney takes 60 dumps a day.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Mash-up!

Oh, and the jam of the century

Thanks WFMU.

Donald Rumsfeld takes 40 dumps a day.

Still! The guy is a maniac about his fiber. Man, I think maybe I average one a day.

Oh but wait, pooping aside: Ev'body in Camp X-ray is now protected by the Geneva convention! They way they should've been from day one! Yay! So we can expect the same for all those secretly brought to secret CIA prisons? Right? Man, I'd like to believe it, and think that at least one step was taken in a right direction, but somehow, I'm not too sure.

Let's remember these key concepts:

Trust - the assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something.
Honesty - fairness and straightforwardness of conduct; adherence to the facts.
Justice - the maintenance or administration of what is just especially by the impartial adjustment of conflicting claims or the assignment of merited rewards or punishments.

And just so it never happens to us:

Facism - a political philosophy, movement, or regime that exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition.

And the way it is supposed to be:

Democracy - a government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised by them directly or indirectly through a system of representation usually involving periodically held free elections.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Instant Depression Remedy for when you hear your ex on NPR:

-3 Miller High Lifes
-1 copy Roxy Music "s/t" lp
-1 Bicycle

Drink two High Lifes. Listen to the self-titled Roxy Music album twice, then revisit the song Virginia Plain twice after. Bike for an hour and a half. Come home, drink final high life, go to sleep.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Dis-happiness is a predatory bird which circles the sun, so you ain't aware its upon you.

Wow, I heard her on the radio today: un-fucking-mistakenable. Shes so bright, intelligent, beautiful, funnier than I could ever be. She does things right, immersing herself in activism. A year ago when I came home, I was a wreck over the whole thing, and I now I feel like I am again. Shit is supposed to fade and you're supposed to feel stronger and not feel like your regressing after that ol' constant of time seperates you from whatever made you feel bad.

It definitely didn't occur to me that I was going to get stun today: man, was I mistaken.

I could pour a drink, hop on my bike for an hour or two, or go somewhere and watch a ball game. The thing is, I can't move. I'm just gonna sit still for a while, listen to the first Roxy Music album, and try to figure out how to snap out of this.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Hey man, somebody had to kill cinema sooner or later.

We here at Sea-Living are not sure to feel how about anything that has "Based on Hasbro's [Action Figures]" in it's teaser trailer. Though, how would I feel about it after sneaking in a 40 oz of Old English in to the theater? Still not sure, but maybe if we were to go to the director's IMDb page, we could see all of his previous crimes against art and intellectualism, right? Right! With a track record like that, no forty on Earth is fit to accompany one on such dangerous terrain. Chaulk up another childhood favorite destroyed forever more.

Though, in safe and familiar places and with things and people I know and love, away from anything having to do with the director of Bad Boys II, I'm still listening to the Hades Kick 'Ate'-album, which I found the spring I graduated from high school. Not a whole lot else has survived five years. The Hades Kick's song "Compass Leads" has been one of my trademark jams since May two thousand ought one. Don't front.

Several ex-girlfriends still express confusion as to why someone would enjoy such a thing. Maybe a certain human heart doesn't care to be understood: maybe all it needs is albums, beer, and just a bit of human to human love.

I stopped knowing what I was talking about in January 2003.