The Best I Can Do as I Get my Study On

Apparently the Mulcock brothers have had a website for months and I only just found out.

I've eaten a lot of cheap falafel around my school, mostly from all the joints on Macdougal, but last night I ate at this place on 4th street between 6th Ave and Macdougal and it by far the best falafel I've ever had. Granted, I got their "super combo falafel"--but it was still the best super combo falafel ever. Also, I was really, really hungry.

Biggie Smalls Che Guevara shirt? Sometimes you know exactly what you need to get yourself for Christmas. (About 7 or 8 items down.)

I need to see the Incredibles again.

Best Subway Portrait

Tonight, as I rode the 1 home from up by Lincoln Center, I found myself being the subject of some subway portraiture by a gentleman by the name of . . . well, judging from his signature, "B Owe"? "Bowe" maybe? I think he did a fine job of capturing my typical subway riding smugness and now my walls are one piece of art richer than before. Also, this is the picture of me that will be on the inside of the hardcover book that I write. Now that I think about it, the portrait sort of looks like me crossed with the Gerber Baby or something.

Want a bigger, closer look? Click!

Amazing Discovery! The McDonalds at 40th and Madison has $1 Double Cheeseburgers! They're $1.50-$1.80 everywhere else in the city. Also, I am told that they have $1 Hotcakes. Which is great, I guess.

Well Finals are upon me again. This seems to happen every four months, but after this round I'm halfway done with law school. Anyway, I'd like to imagine that I'll be so consumed by studying that I won't be bloggin' much, but I imagine my impending excessive hitting of the books will fill my head with ideas for content. Still, I'm under a lockdown of sorts until the 21st. Any donations of food, compassion, conversation, or FedCrim notes will be greatly appreciated.

Also Was anyone around the time I used the word "hagiography"? I remember saying it recently, but I can't remember the place or the context . . . I think I was talking about hagiographies. With hagiographers?

Best 556th Page of Anything

Say you decide to read Finnigans Wake. Say you read it and read it and read it. Most of the time, it is a mess. Slowly, you begin to think you recognize certain recurring elements, you think you might be unraveling some of the wordplay . . . but still, who are we kidding, it is a big huge mess. Onward you trudge.

And then, you get to the second to last chapter. Scholars will tell you that now the day is breaking and that Earwicker's dream is ending. Suddenly, at page 556 (just 72 pages to go!), just four paragraphs into the chapter, you find why you've been sticking with this book for so long:

night by silentsailing night while infantina Isobel (who will be blushing all day to be, when she growed up one Sudnay, Saint Holy and Saint Ivory, when she took the neil, the beautiful presentation nun, so barely twenty, in her pure coif, sister Isobel, and next Sunday, Mistlemas, when she looked a peach, the beautiful Samaritan, still as beautiful and still in her teens, nurse Saintette Isabelle, with stiffstarched cuffs but on Holiday, Christmas, Easter mornings when she wore a wreath, the wonderful widow of eighteen springs, Madame Isa Veuve La Belle, so sad but lucksome in her boyblue's long black with orange blossoming weeper's veil) for she was the only girl they loved, as she is the queenly pearl you prize, because of the way the night that first we met she is bound to be, methinks, and not in vain, the darling of my heart, sleeping in her april cot, within her singachamer, with her greengageflavoured candywhistle duetted to the crazyquilt, Isobel, she is so pretty, truth to tell, wildwood's eyes and primarose hair, quietly, all the woods so wild, in mauves of moss and daphnedews, how all so still she lay, neath of the whitethorn, child of tree, like some losthappy leaf, like blowing flower stilled, as fain would she anon, for soon again 'twill be, win me, woo me, we me, ah weary me! deeply, now evencalm lay sleeping:

And so, I ask, what will you do with your life?

"The wonderful widow of eighteen springs" Are you kidding me? If I were to excerpt each of the lines from that paragraph that give me goosebumps and mist up my eyes, I'd wind up rewriting the paragraph three times over . . . but I can't resist "for she was the only girl they loved, as she is the queenly pearl you prize, because of the way the night that first we met she is bound to be, methinks, and not in vain, the darling of my heart . . ." This must be how fathers feel about their baby daughters, I can't imagine it's any other thing. "how all so still she lay, neat of the whitethorn, child of tree, like some losthappy leaf . . . win me, woo me, we me, ah weary me!" James Joyce: more awesome than the Wu-Tang Clan.

"we me"? wow.

Best "So That's What Was Going On?" Revelations of the Day

After class yesterday there was a lot of activity on 6th Avenue of the firetruck and worried people sort. Something was clearly up with the subway, what do I mean? Oh, smoke was billowing out of subway grates, firefighters were rushing in and out of the West 4th station, firetrucks could be seen every few blocks, confused looking commuters stood on the street with a real "what do I do now?" sort of look to them--and the same sort of stuff was going on up at 14th street, too. It was the sort of thing that makes you go home and turn on the TV to see if you can figure out what was going on. Well, thanks to this article at Gothamist, I now know what had happened: some sort of big third rail fire of some sort. Yes, Gothamist is where I get my hard news now.

Also Follow a couple links on today's Gawker and you'll wind up at this article "outing" Alias actor Victor Garber . . . funny, I remember posting about this same sort of thing in my very first Steady Mobbin' post. Did I have a scoop or sorts? Guess that was my moment for internet gossip glory.

Best Weird Makeover

WELCOME GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCHERS: To everyone coming to this post from 8 years ago, maybe you'd also like to see my more recent post about similarities between Moonrise Kingdom and other Wes Anderson movies?

Dude, what happened to Wes Anderson?

The Wes We're Used To:

The Wes of Today:

Trust me, that's him. Look at his mouth. And his girlfriend, Tara Subkoff.

Yes, I stole that second photo. I'm going to stop even saying that I stole photos, I average 8 hits a day.

But I didn't steal this photo. More Neckface! Spotted down by my job.

This cat would drink anything.
Yes, this is a mysterious post of minor significance to only a few.
Also, yes. I spent most of Thanksgiving in sweat pants.

Friend of Steady Mobbin' Sariah has started Meddling Sariah, a place for meddlesome matchmaking, commenting, observing, and advising--or, as I see it, a way to keep Sariah off the streets after school now that the teen center at the library has been closed down. But, f'reals, visit it. Just don't forget to keep reading Steady Mobbin'.

Best Unmerited Seriousness

The New York Times has a good article on my "boss" Lil' Jon today. Probably too good of an article. It's weird to hear crunk discussed so seriously, as if it's legitimate. Believe me, it isn't legitimate.

Do you remember how I posted a link to Drop It Like It's Hot back at the beginning of September? I just wanted to remind you that I did that. That's how much Steady Mobbin' loves you, bringing you today's hits three months ago. Of course, I haven't done anything like that since then.

More Thanksgiving activities: Went and saw "Finding Neverland." If you don't love this movie you don't have even 1/2 of a heart. The Lake was nothing but a bunch of sobbing grown-ups by the time it ended. Me? I won't grow up, never grow up, not I. Also, I went with my Pop to the Cunning Little Vixen. No, Randy and I didn't go to a strip club, it was an opera. About woodland creatures. So there you are.

Coming Soon Steady Mobbin': We Break Into Your Homes and Play With Your Cats. And also, so many people are having birthdays these days. Happy Birthday to all of you, especially those of you that visit the briggie dot blogspot ever.

Best Thanksgiving This Whole Year

Here's some Thanksgiving break stuff that's happened.

1) I was on one of the last planes to make it into Chicago last night. I flew into Midway, rumor has it O'Hare was closed. Actually, Midway was closed for a while, they had us in a holding pattern waiting for the winds to die down so that they could reopen the runways. I guess it's a Thanksgiving miracle I made it here at all. Also, while I was at Newark, my flight was momentarily delayed 4 hours. There's nothing quite like hearing that your 4:30 flight is going to leave at 8:30, and then to hear that it's been moved down from 8:30 to 5:00? I don't even want to know the true story behind that.

2) Last night I got the whole family, (Mom, Dad, Grandma, Owen, Greg, Emily) to sit down and watch Arrested Development with me. I thought we were just going to watch the pilot, but we made it through the whole first disc of episodes. You know you've made yourself a funny sitcom if Grandma is quoting it a day later.

3) Also, something funny Grandma said: "I want that Napoleon Bonaparte movie for Christmas." (She was refering to Napoleon Dynamite, of course, which she had gone to see with her fellow San Marino widows at some point.)

4) We all went and saw National Treasure today. Inoffensive yet completely generic, they could have just called it "Caper Movie!"

5) BUT I did finally see the Revenge of the Sith trailer with it. Making me probably the last person in the world, but man, what a beauty. It's going to be such a best movie of 2005, I just know it.

"Best New Music"? Yeah, no kidding.

Maybe you read Pitchfork yesterday and saw that (via a nearly unreadable review) they gave the M.I.A. mixtape "Piracy Funds Terrorism" an 8.5 and stamped it with their covetable "Best New Music" decree that they give out every now and then. Well, I can only agree with the Pitchforkers on one thing here, "Piracy Funds Terrorism" certainly merits the "Best New Music" tag, but the record is more of a 12-out-of-10 than an 8.5.

Simply put, M.I.A.'s mixtape (so blessed by its association with Hollertronix . . . who, aside from being extremely capable DJs also have about the best name there is) is an example of a record that sounds exactly like I want my music to sound. Heavy, crunchy, gutsy, I haven't been so immediately pleased by a record since "Fever to Tell." I mean, seriously, look at this girl:




Is there any conceivable way that her music isn't going to be awesome? Clearly the girl can work the crowd like it's Fall 2003 and her name's Howard Dean. (Yes, you're right, I stole those pictures.) If anyone is going to make Sri Lankan Dancehall/Hip-Hop hot, it's gonna be her. On "Piracy Funds Terrorism", M.I.A. does her thing while appropriating elements of some of the more popular rap (What Happened to that Boy?, Big Pimpin', Pass that Dutch, etc.) and dancehall (Heads High, Limb by Limb[!!]) hits of the last few years and it's no crime because she keeps it so tight--I know, I know, I, Brigham Barnes, have no authority to write "and it's no crime because she keeps it so tight" but that's just the only way I can put it. One of the most noteworthy things about the mixtape is that the last, hmm, third of the record is pretty much all Brazilian funk. It's probably the first time I've heard such a difficult to like sort of urban music sound so legitimate. If you like your music to be awesome and for cool people, you should try to get your hands on this not-entirely-legal CD. Especially if you're Broek, because, believe me, Broek, you'd dig this thing. If you don't already have it.

More stolen photos, cuz I can't resist:


I once saw pictures of M.I.A. that were she was partying even hard than in these, but I can't remember where.

Whoah

Christo is going to wrap up Central Park in February. Now that's something to look forward to.

Best Sign School Has Taken Over

So, I've got 4 tickets to the "secret" U2 show tomorrow in DUMBO. But you're supposed to get there at 2:30, and I have Corporations at 2. We're going to be starting to talk about Insider Trading. I really think my sense of duty to the studies is going to win out over my desire to see a band that I've never been super interested in play songs I've never heard from a new album that I'll probably never listen to . . . but even I can tell I'm passing on a memorable experience by doing so. Like, that'd make a good blog post, "Best Secret U2 Concert Ever." Who knows what will happen. Stay tuned.

Oh, and those other 3 tickets? Not spoken for, but I need to be there. If you want some of your own, contact me, I'll tell you how to get them. It wasn't that hard at all.

Best Post for your Computer to Hate

Sorry, so many photos, I couldn't resist.

Saturday night we all went to KCDC in Brooklyn

It was me

And Lexia

And Robin

We went there to watch Josh skate

I'd long wanted to see Josh skate

And I wasn't disappointed

At all


Other people were skating there too. Like this guy

And this guy

I believe this girl's name was Wendy. She totally ate it out there.

See?

I haven't seen someone so excited to have cut up their lip before

But here's the crazy thing, in the same building as the skate shop was . . .

A heavy-metal hipster aquarium

They were blasting the music in there and there were all these aquariums

See?

Williamsburg, you're full of surprises
On my way home I discovered graffiti genius Neckface had tagged my hood. Awesome!

And there were these little troublemakers hanging out in the kid's store

Best Durn Thursday

On Monday I had my final argument for the Moot Court Competition. While educational, fulfilling, and at times exhilarating, the entire ordeal left me feeling . . . well, I suppose most people would say that it left them feeling “like a good, stiff drink.” Me, if left me feeling like a “good, juicy steak.” Unfortunately, sometimes you don’t have the time to grab a steak right when you want one, and I had to put off my steak-grabbing until Thursday night.

But what a night for steak-grabbing it proved to be!

While dear old New York features several steakhouses I’m aching to visit (Peter Luger and the Strip House, in particular) I decided to go out to Dumont in Williamsburg. I first heard of Dumont months ago and had long longed to visit it. Noticing two different steaks on their menu, I figured Thursday the perfect chance to try the place out.

Situated on Union Ave between Metropolitan and whatever (it’s not like I walked to the other end of the block when I didn’t have to) Dumont isn’t much to look at from the outside, especially with its shuttered windows, you wouldn’t even notice it if it weren’t for its, uhm, great big green neon side. Inside, Dumont isn’t too much to look at either. Dim, smallish, almost dingy, really, it’d probably be a little discouraging to walk into if all the tables weren’t packed with people enjoying delicious looking food. By dumb luck we got our table right away, but I was surprised to find it so busy on a Thursday night at 7 . . . I guess Thursday nights are as reasonable a time as any for a restaurant to busy, but I now know better than to expect to be able to show up and sit there at 8pm on a Friday.

Enough of the set-up, let me talk about food:

Appetizer: Had the crab cake. It was the type of delicious that you notice the second it touches your lips, and an exciting indicator of what was to come for the rest of the evening. An appetite-zer, indeed, or whatever. The cake itself was an “A” on its own, but it was served on a really piquant green salsa (yes, I feel I need to use the word “piquant” here) perfectly offset by creamy avocado on top—the entire result? One of them “party in my mouth” sort of experiences. I could’ve eaten like five of them or something.

Dinner: Yeah, so, I got their NY strip with fries and peppercorn sauce. Just perfect. Exactly what I wanted. The fries were insanely crisp and tasty. Just so perfect. If I remember right, I ordered it straight-up medium and that’s what I got, an absolutely medium steak (usually I go medium-well, but Thursday night I just I felt a little pinker than usual)

Dessert: Split their “evening special” pumpkin cheesecake and “normal” (yet equally special) fallen chocolate cake. The cheesecake was really delicious, I had been a little worried about how pumpkiny it’d be, as I’m really just nuts about normal old cheesecake, but the flavor situation was under control, and, as stated above, really delicious. The fallen chocolate cake was also magnificent, one of those little pieces of gooey-hot chocolate cake served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream like you can get at lots of restaurants these days, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

It was one of those meals where you just talk about how good the food is the whole time and start making plans to come back before you’re even done with the appetizer. I’m looking forward to returning as soon as possible (as it’s right off the Lorimar stop on the L, it’s no trick getting there). I’d really like to try something a little more flavorful than steak for my dinner next time, not that there was anything at all wrong with my steak.

In summation: Dumont. So much the best meal I’ve had at a restaurant in a long time. I think I need to mention that both of the place’s chefs cooked at Gramercy Tavern. I haven’t been to Gramercy Tavern (yet), but I know it’s important to mention when a restaurant has something to do with the Gramercy Tavern. Oh, and the waitstaff? Chill, cool, and capable. My favorite kind.

Completely Unrelated Do you know what song is just the joint? "Fire" by Joe Buddens. Most repeat-worthy track I've heard since "Toxic." I wouldn't even know this song existed if it weren't for the party scene in Mean Girls.

Best Unrelated Bits of "Information"

1) On Saturday I babysat a bunch of kids all afternoon with a bunch of other babysitters. When the first mom showed up with her 18 month old this is the first thing she said: "This is Jill*, she has the worst yeast infection right now." And then she started handing me all these tubes and ointments. So that was great.

*For some reason, I've changed the baby's name to protect its identity.



2) Do you know who rocks? Slayer rocks. I write this as a 27 year old. I had friends who started listening to Slayer when we were 13, at the oldest. 14 years later, I'm listening to "Seasons in the Abyss" for the first time . . . and It. Is. Awesome. Especially the song "Skeletons of Society." Finally, I'm starting to get metal.

By the way, that's the cover of "Seasons in the Abyss." It's not Jill*, or anything.

3) I like Blue 9 Burger. Best Double-Cheeseburger in the city. But the Burger Joint is still my favorite single-patty cheeseburger. I've read plenty of comments comparing Blue 9 to In-N-Out, but as someone who didn't grow up in California and feels he must talk about In-N-Out all the time, I have no comment to make on this.

4) Here's what I have to say about the television: The new show, Lost? It was good the first few times, but I don't have it in me to keep watching it. The new season of South Park? So far, not so hot. The first episode of this season of the Simpsons (not counting the Halloween Special)? Surprisingly good, I had been ready for this to be the season that the show was clearly not good anymore. They're 1/1 right now. The second episode of the second season of Arrested Development? Pretty great. The new season of Amazing Race? So many boneheads, it's incredible.

All of a sudden it seems like I watch a lot of TV. Would you like me to tell you about the Paramount/Viacom merger instead? Or maybe the moot court competition?

If I don't think of something intelligent to put on this blog soon my head is going to shrink down to nothingness.

Best Couple at the Dance

I can't remember where I downloaded this from.

I can only imagine it was a magical night for the two of them.

(This is my new strategy for when I haven't anything to blog about: post photos I find on my computer. I first did this last week with that whole deal about Tiger.)

"Baby, Baby, You're Really the Best"

This is my Interpol show review post.



First of all, that is so not my own photo of the concert. It's not even a photo of the concert that I was at.

Second of all, I definitely like Interpol a whole, whole lot. But even I notice that their lyrics . . . sometimes their lyrics are a little ridiculous, especially when coupled with Mr. Paul Banks' sort of robotic delivery. For example, this line from "Say Hello to the Angels": "Your hair is so pretty and red/Baby, baby you're really the best." Perhaps it's irony? Pop-trivialities transplanted into hard and heavy art-rock? But, then again, I like it when he sings "You are the only person who's completely certain there's nothing here to be into" in PDA, or when he suddenly says "Oh look it stopped snowing" in Roland.

When I saw Interpol last year (on the night of the Cubs' final game before not going to the World Series) they had just put out one album, so they didn't have too many songs to play . . . yet they still didn't play one of my favorite songs from Turn on the Bright Lights, "Obstacle 2." So, going into Friday night's show, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be hearing "Obstacle 2" (and I was right, they didn't play it) but I also correctly predicted that if Interpol didn't play my favorite Turn on the Bright Lights song, then they wouldn't be playing my favorite Antics song, "C'mere"--and I was right, again. I suppose I love being right.

Here's the "review" I wrote of the show for the NYU Law School newspaper:

Any night of the week, New York City offers a dizzying array of options for diversion. Should you have the time to take it up on any of these options, it’s easy to be left wondering if you picked the right way to pass the evening. Is this the right bar to be hanging out at? Is this the best restaurant to be eating at? Am I watching the right limited-run foreign film tonight? One often wishes for some profound indicator that they’re spending their free time in the best way possible.

While I didn’t feel I needed much reassurance to know I was at the right concert when I caught Interpol’s second of two sold-out shows at the Hammerstein Ballroom Friday night, I found reaffirmation in my choice when I noticed David Bowie (disguised in a fake mustache—I kid you not) enjoying the show just to my right. When you’re at the same rock concert as David Bowie, it seems a safe bet to say that there’s not a better show to be at in the city.

Not that Interpol needs a rock legend to validate their skill. Just as N*Sync came to dethrone the Backstreet Boys as Boy Band Kings, and Enrique Iglesias overtook Ricky Martin in the battle to be the heart-throbbingest of Latin Heartthrobs, it seems safe to say that Interpol is showing signs of having overtaken the Strokes as the band to be remembered from the recent New York City scene resurgence. Playing songs from their debut album, Turn on the Bright Lights, and their solid follow-up, Antics, Interpol kept their fans rocking through a twelve song set and two encores.

Since Interpol are known for their dark and stylish look with its accompanying cooler-than-thou-yet-gloomy mood, it may come as a surprise to people used to listening to the band through the subdued medium of headphones how hard and loud the band is live. While the band remains nearly motionless during performances (save for bassist Carlos D.’s strutting about stage), they produce a magnificently loud, crowd shaking noise. This was especially apparent when the band performed its “hit singles” “PDA” and “Slow Hands” and in its first-set closer, “Roland,” which ended in such a harsh wave of reverb that, for a moment, I thought I might be knocked over by the sound.

But it’s not to say that Interpol is incapable of being dark or moody live. The evening was begun with the organ-based Antics opener “No Exit” and closed with “Untitled”, the first track off of Turn on the Bright Lights (what parallelism!), both songs rendered especially moody and transporting by the Hammerstein’s stage lighting.

The concert’s crowd (aside from Mr. Bowie) was diverse collection of people who’s dress and behavior belied the neighborhoods they’d be returning to at the end of the evening—from Williamsburg hipsters playing it cool around the edges of the main floor to Upper East Side girls dancing in the balconies—it all served as an indicator that Interpol is branching out beyond their flavor-of-the-month early adopters without changing their sound to pander to popular tastes. If things keep going like this for the band, they’ll only continue to increase in popularity and release a style of music that is distinctively their own and remain the band to see when they’re in town.

Since I took the trouble to write it down while I was at the show, here's the evening's set list:
Next Exit/Say Hello To The Angels/Narc/Public Pervert/Evil/NYC/Hands Away/Slow Hands/Not Even Jail/Obstacle 1/Roland
Encore: Leif Erikson/PDA Second Encore: Untitled

Yeah, not only are some of their lyrics dumb, but most of their song titles are pretty odd, too.

Not Best

Ol' Dirty Bastard (of the Wu-Tang Clan) dropped dead in a recording studio tonight. ("Tonight" is Saturday night) I know Steady Mobbin' isn't a news source, but there are some things I can't knee-jerk react post to. Here's the news story. It's been a while since we've had a posthumous rap album release, so good thing ODB had been working on a record for over a year.

Best Minor Prank

Yesterday someone hacked into something and made the signs at the West 4th Street Subway say "Pretty Girls Don't Ride the Subway." That's funny. Gothamist has the "complete" story. (With a picture)

Best Couple of Things I Didn't Realize Until Now

Hey, here's some fun facts about November 11th that you might not know . . . or remember.

1) Apparently it's Veterans Day. Huh. Imagine that.



2) Also, it's Kurt Vonnegut's birthday. My man is 82, and a veteran himself. Here's an article about him from his birthday three years ago (The first line? "He should be dead by now.") I'll confess I haven't read all of it yet, but I'm guessing it's good--it's about him teaching at Smith College, or something. The most interesting item? Apparently he is working on another novel after all, or at least he was three years ago. And here's a link to a post from earlier in the Steady Mobbin' days (back in June!) that has to do with Mr. Vonnegut("has to do"="is about").

Here are some great Kurt quotes, not that there aren't a million more:

"What is flirtatiousness but an argument that life must go on and on and on?"
"My soul knows my meat is doing bad things, and is embarrassed. But my meat just keeps right on doing bad, dumb things."
(all right you pervs, that's from Bluebeard, where the protagonist, an abstract expressionist, views human beings as neon tube souls trapped in corrupt bodies of meat)
"Belief is nearly the whole of the Universe, whether based on truth or not."
"If you really want to hurt your parents and you don't have nerve enough to be homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts."
"History is merely a list of surprises. It can only prepare us to be surprised yet again."
"The two prime movers in the Universe are Time and Luck."
"Roses are red and ready for plucking
You're sixteen and ready for high school."
"Pretend to be good always, and even God will be fooled."
"Every passing hour brings the Solar System forty-three thousand miles closer to Globular Cluster M13 in Hercules -- and still there are some misfits who insist that there is no such thing as progress."
"Take Care of the People, and God Almighty Will Take Care of Himself."--(That, right there, is the universe of Vonnegut's philosophy summed up in 13 words)
"Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae."
"One of the few good things about modern times: If you die horribly on television, you will not have died in vain. You will have entertained us."
"There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution, and I don’t know what can be done to fix it. This is it: Only nut cases want to be president."
"Thanks to TV and for the convenience of TV, you can only be one of two kinds of human beings, either a liberal or a conservative."
"Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter can be said to remedy anything."
"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be."
"Men are jerks. Women are psychotic."
"Ignore the awful times, and concentrate on the good ones."
"People don't come to church for preachments, of course, but to daydream about God"
"The universe is a big place, perhaps the biggest."

Sorry, I got a little carried away there--just a little googling and cutting and pasting and there I was. Still, I couldn't find a favorite quote, this one about authors always having beautiful wives. I'll find it over Thanksgiving.

Seriously, if any of you haven't read Cat's Cradle yet, get to it. And then read the rest. Here's a fun fact: while my dad talked a lot about Ice 9 as I was growing up, it took a recommendation from John Wedoff to get me started on the works of KVJ. Seriously.

I saw Kurt speak earlier this year. All I want to do is grow up into man as old and as cranky and wise as him who can keep a room desperate for his every word as he did. Telling stories, wearing sweaters. What a life. God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut.

Best Photo I Found Last Night

This is a picture of my old roommate Tiger from when he graduated from the University of Utah. Tiger was an awesome, awesome roommate. I lived with him, no, he lived with me in the fall of 1998. I had two Korean roommates that year, Ken and Tiger. They seemed to be good pals, but they had their differences: Ken was more polite, agreeable one and Tiger was the more argumentative, opinionated one . . . thusly, Tiger was the more awesome one. An example of their different personalities: when Ken and Tiger were going to move out of the apartment, my roommate Matt and I made them T-shirts with our pictures on them, so that Ken and Tiger would always remember us (I think the shirts said “I Love Brigham and Matt” or “Official Member of the Brigham and Matt Fan Club”). Ken graciously thanked us for his and put it on, Tiger seemed to think the shirt was some sort of joke and kept trying to give it back to us. Also, Tiger and Matt would get in the biggest fights over the temperature in the apartment . . . Tiger always found it to be too cold, but I think that was mostly because Tiger was always hanging out in his gym uniform.

When Ken and Tiger first moved into the apartment their English wasn’t so good. For example, during one get to know you talk, we spent about 20 minutes trying to figure out if Tiger had seen the 5th Element or not. He owned the video, and said that it was a good movie, but kept telling us he hadn’t seen it. We tried to break the examination down into yes/no questions, but that didn’t get us very far. Seriously. Asking the question “Have you seen the 5th Element?” only produced more confusion. Also, we couldn’t ever figure out what school Ken and Tiger went to, because sometimes they’d need rides to BYU, and sometimes they’d need rides to UVSC (the local junior college). So, when I received pictures of Tiger’s graduation from the University of Utah, it seemed to make perfect sense.

Tiger got lots of phonecalls from people that didn’t speak English. From this I learned to do phonetic impersonations of Korean phone call conversations. I can’t even begin to think of how to type what it seemed they were saying.

We didn’t hang out with Tiger outside of the apartment very much, but once we went to the Training Table, and he seemed to have a good time. And once I had lunch with him at Fuddrucker’s after he had moved out of the apartment, and he gave me a pin with a little Korean kid on it. Oh, also, we went to the James Bond movie with Denise Richards in it. Even Tiger could tell it was lousy. Last time I saw Ken or Tiger was at the Gateway Mall in Salt Lake, they were at the Brookstone trying out the vibrating chairs. It was a joyous chance reunion.

I miss old Tiger. I can only imagine what he’s up to these days. If you (reader) ever see me, you should ask me to tell you Tiger stories, because I’ve got lots of them, and I tell them with enthusiasm.

Also I think I just saw Ashley Olsen, but it's so hard to tell. All these tiny ratty-haired blondes running around with gigantic sunglasses on, she could be any one of them.