The Big Green House

Turkish delight

Well, as it turns out we weren’t able to get into the Block Party. By the time we got there, there were lines around the block just to get tickets. Neither of us felt much like waiting in line for an hour or two, only to be told that they were sold out when we reached the front. Next year, we buy advance tickets (which we’d sorta thought of doing this year, but one thought drives out another and… well, you know).

Instead, we saw this great film called Crossing the Bridge – The Sound of Istanbul. If you’re here in town I suggest you haul ass over to the Northwest Film Forum (apparently the only place we see movies anymore) before Thursday, which is the last day it’s scheduled to play.

The documentary follows Einstürzende Neubauten bassist Alexander Hacke as he records local musicians in and around Istanbul. It’s always interesting when different cultures rub up against each other and cross-pollinate. Istanbul is uniquely positioned for such cultural exchange, being a part of both the East and the West. There’s some seriously jaw-dropping stuff in this film – “psychedelic belly dance” by Baba Zula, hip hop by Ceza, techno-dervish by Mercan Dede, Kurdish folk music by the breathtaking Aynur (no shit; I never use the term “breathtaking, but it fits her performance), Canadian folksinger Brenna MacCrimmon bringing forgotten Turkish songs of the 50’s and 60’s back to life, street musicians, and on and on. We rushed home and ordered the soundtrack as soon as we could.

Not A Photograph

I still got nothin'. But hey, look, it's the trailer for Not A Photograph, the new documentary on Mission of Burma. I'll be writing a review of The Obliterati soon, but in the meantime I will say that it is really solid work and that you need a copy, NOW. Watch the trailer first, though.

Don't eat stuff off the sidewalk

When you ask the average Joe or Jane, “what’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Seattle”, most (if not all) of them will say “rain”. This is the cross we bear. Well, that and the fact that Starbucks began here. We’re sorry.

Yeah, it does rain here a bit. Our average yearly rainfall is something like 37 inches. Let’s put that in perspective, now: Boston and Detroit both average 41 inches, New York gets about 47 inches, Memphis and Atlanta get 48. You don’t think of rain when you think of those cities, now do ya? No.

We get stuck with the rainy tag not because of the volume of rain, but the frequency. We tend to get rain in just about every month of the year. And, y’know, it might drizzle a little in the morning and be dry for the rest of the day. So when things get wet here, they tend to sorta stay wet.

Thus it was that I found myself powerwashing the moss off of the sidewalk in front of Science Manor this weekend. Not for aesthetic reasons – I actually like the look of a moss-covered sidewalk (it matches our moss-filled lawn, for one thing) – but for the safety of passers-by. The moss gets quite slippery when it rains, see, and the unwary might slip and crack their coccyx bone right there in front of the house. And, while I’d hate to see that happen to just about anyone, there’s also the litigious nature of our society to keep in mind. In other words, we do not wish to be sued.

We have to do this every two or so years. (I suppose we could do it yearly but fuck it, I’m lazy.) Science Girl and I take turns spraying. It’s kinda nice to see the clean, moss-free sidewalk at the end, but the process itself is rather tedious. Like this post, really, but this is what we did this weekend.

Oh, and we saw Broken Flowers yesterday. Very good indeed. Jim Jarmusch + Bill Murray = underplayed genius. There’s some very nice ensemble work by… well, just about the entire cast, really. The soundtrack is top-notch as well. Go see it if you get the chance.

It’s much better than reading about us washing the sidewalk, I can tell you that.

I wanna be sedated

I’ve been riding the rollercoaster between deep dark depression and teeth-grinding anger since breakfast-time Wednesday. I haven’t touched a newspaper since then & don’t much care to for the foreseeable future, aside from the Arts & Entertainment section. (Gotta check the funnies, y’know. Even though they haven’t actually been funny since, um, forever, aside from Mutts and, usually, Zippy. Truly, we are a nation of pinheads.)

What keeps me going? Well, aside from the love of a good woman and (more often than not) good pets, it’s pretty much been down to loud music (Stooges, mostly, and Abattoir Blues) and strong beer (Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale – how’s that for irony?). So far I have resisted the temptation to smoke.

We saw End of the Century Saturday night.  I should probably write something up about that, but my heart’s not in it right now. I will say this much: if you like The Ramones at all, you should see it. If not… you should probably still see it, although it won’t change your mind about anything. And truthfully, if you don’t like The Ramones then you’re probably reading the wrong page. I have nothing for you here.

I have a bad feeling about this

"George Lucas has taken a big stinky dump on the sacred trust of the people who made his entire universe possible. The arc of his professional career epitomizes the most horrifying imaginable manifestation of the macabre betrayal of one's youth and vitality, and the abject surrender of artistic integrity to ego and self-obsession."

A-fucking-men.