Yesterday, I came home to a Michigan sky, though the air didn't smell like the Lake. It was perfumed with age and dust. The pavement felt tired, wearing its cracks like pinstripes on Clarence Darrow's suit, like tracers over Afghanistan.

The War on Christmas

Tech Dependence

I write this from my desk at work in an old fashioned word processor. A large section of North West DC, including my office is without internet access and no signal from the Powers That Be, when our connectivity will return. Although I'm still (obviously) obsessed with external communication, it's liberating. I spent my morning culling my inbox, catching up on paperwork, organizing my to-dos… NOT checking what's happening with Amy Winehouse, Britney Spears, and Ron Paul. NOT checking the wonk blogs or browsing the news of the day, and it's liberating. I feel unencumbered and less upset by the ugly ugly place that the World is. Will this inspire a new set of internetting rules? Probably not. But it's good to realize that there is a way to ease the ill feeling that I get in the pit of my stomach some mornings as I check up on 'friends' blogs and catch up on the wars… Maybe knowing is half the battle.

Yuck

One of the creepiest things I've ever seen.

Sparky came to visit during Thanksgiving.

First Snow

It's the dusty kind that I remember from late October days in Michigan. Mixing with dead oak leaves that breezes rattle against the sidewalk, it didn't look like something real. Convincing oneself that the autumn would last a little longer, continuing to layer sweater upon sweatshirt, tights under jeans, not wanting to switch to a winter coats and boots.

It gets dark so early now, the long shadows of buildings are cold by late afternoon. I miss the sun.

(I also miss my digital camera. Camera phones are fun but they take fucking crappy photos.)

Last home Nationals game at RFK Stadium

Sunday afternoon saw the final MLB game at RFK stadium. I've been slowly learning to love the Nationals-- they're bad in the way the Tigers were when I was at University and I first started following the baseball. I sort of love them for that. I'm a softy for underdogs.

Next summer the Nat's move to their new home on the waterfront. There is great hope of reviving the area although their stint in RFK did little for the eastern neighborhood that hosts the stadium. We shall see...

In any event, end of baseball games in my town feels like end of summer (as does the Tigers dashed hopes for an October series...) and end of summer means the winter isn't far off. DC in winter is nothing like the long dark puffy snow filled winters I experienced growing up in Michigan. I love snow, but the darkness isn't missed.

By the way, I actually saw Christmas decorations at the hardware store the other day. It's September, people!

Countdown to loss of privacy... My boss's blog on Huffington Post.

Paperback Writer + Hey Ya = Rad

Friday at The Blackcat, DJ Spooky made me dance.

His moment of genius, for me, was a mix of The Beatles' 'Paperback Writer' and Outcast's 'Hey Ya.'

I remember in college the amount of time I spent listening to terrible hobbyists, who's parents gave them too-big allowances, with lots of amazing toys that they didn't know how to use... in any event, back then it was easy for me to forget that I love a good DJ.

Spooky had three digital turn tables that were attached to video that reacted to all of his changes, moves and scratching. Mike and I have been talking about incorporating video and animation into our work, and now that I've seen it done so beautifully, I'm really anxious to start experimenting.