The Shame Threshold

Busan Blues

2009-11-10T05:36:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I went to Busan, the second largest city in Korea in search of fun and adventure. I was fortunate enough to be accompanied by Rachel and my swell new friends, Jason & Oakley.

We took the bullet train from downtown Seoul to Busan. We caught the equivalent of the red eye as we departed from Seoul on one of the last trains. Departure 9:40, arrival 12:30. Spirits and expectations were high. We had heard that the train was equipped with a snack cart that sells beer, but an hour and a half into the trip, there was no such thing in site. The anxiety of catching a glimpse of the snack lady started to give way to disappointment as it appeared the mythical cart would never appear. Finally, the cart appeared sparkling with beer. The weekend was off to a good start. Fearing that the cart would continue to be as elusive as it had for the first stretch of the trip, I quickly ordered three beers. After a quick glimpse of what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and disapproval, the pro handed me my beers. I drank those and then had two more.

Looking real self satisfied after my 5th beer

Posin' in the photo zone

This is Oakley. He rules. He also has an inexplicably strong dislike for having his photo taken. He probably hates that this is on the internet for all to admire, but fuck it. He'll get over it.

Jason and I engaged in my signature move: Back 2 Back shredding. I can't recollect exactly what song this shredding was accompanied by, but I do remember that Night Train and Dancing in the Streets were in the mix. The rokes joint was a pretty shady little affair. The jams were only 10 bones for the hour, but you had to order a big ol' plate of food and some of their shitty expensive drinks. Not to one to be had, I managed to sneak a bottle of Johnny Walker Black in the old trousers.

After the rokes we took in Busan's natural beauty at the beach. There is absolutely no fucking smoking there. You can however, drink as much as you like, which is exactly what we did.

I buy American.

This was the juncture in the evening where I became hell bent on taking a picture of myself totally horizontal in the air. I'm not really too sure what all went down here, but it looks like I blew it.

I think this was about as close as we got to capturing my ambitions. While I don't think I managed to accomplish my goal during this shot, I do fairly accurately recall damn near getting the wind knocked out of me. Bummer.

It was a pretty excellent evening.

The next day I think we all felt a little of kilter. These feelings of intense mediocrity were combated with an assault of abalone porridge and coin operated bumper cars.

Going dumb on an intergalactic spacecraft. No big deal.

The Three Amigos.

Rachel calls this our band shot, although I remember it more as the self timer shot that I farted during. Jason thought it was pretty funny.

We met up with some folks that Oakley had met via Last Fm. They all turned out to be very hospitable folks with excellent taste in music and culture. The young lady on the far right of the photo is an assistant director who was scouting locations for a film to be shot in Busan this December. She was a real nice gal.

This is Dan. There was some major name redundancy happening at this party. Two Daniels, Two Jason's, Two Rachels, & and a man that went by the name of Oak to compliment our Oakley.

This is Rachel with the other Rachel. They were both wasted at this point, no question. The other Rachel gave us a nice little chap book she had made along with some of her friends in Busan. It's called The Hotdog Catalog. If you'd like to contribute email her at: wilma.henn@gmail.com

Jason- A fine Knoxvillian and friend.

This is the other Jason. Apparently he lived in Portland for a pretty long stretch just before he left for Korea. He was a man of polite manners and discerning taste. We talked a great deal about westerns, portland, and rock & roll. Trifecta.

This is Oak and David. Oak is a big fan of online networking and music. David is a big fan of getting wasted and dancing like Mary Poppins all over the god damn place.

This is Kong. I thought he was handsome.

The man front and center is Matt Jones. He used to work at Ecstatic Peace and was in a band called Baby Jesus Burnout. One of the former drummers for Sebadoh was in it. You can listen to them at MySpace if you are so inclined. I liked Mr. Jones. He was a very affable man with good conversational skills. We're still in touch.

Oh here's a good Matt Jones story. About 5 minutes into meeting Oak and Matt a discussion arose regarding Matt's likeness to various celebrities. It was debated as to whether he resembled Phillip Seymour Hoffman or Brad Pitt. I don't really see either one too intensely, but go figure.

I bought 6 shitty roman candles for 5 bucks. It was too much damn trouble to light the things with all the wind and such, so I more or less lost interest after two of them. After I had grown tired of the candles, I took a little dip the Pacific and strangely found myself taking loads of pictures with similarly minded Koreans. Those pics are currently MIA, but hopefully, i'll wrangle some of those up in the near future.

Busan was fun.

A Case of the Nostalgies

2009-10-21T03:53:00.000-07:00

For some reason this commercial really reminds me of my childhood. A latch key childhood filled with too much tv and even more Nintendo. I don't think that catch phrase, "How many licks does it take to get to the middle..." will ever escape my consciousness

I don't know that this song really makes me feel all that nostalgic, but it does make me feel better. Always. I'm pretty sure it's my favorite Tommy James song.

In other news: I recently received my plane tickets back to the good 'ol US of A. I'll be touching down in San Francisco at 6:30 pm on November 27th. I'll probably be spending the better part of December in the Bay Area before I make my way up to Portland, but that could change pending any major employment or shelter options.

San Francisco Press Hounds

2009-10-09T03:42:00.000-07:00

Hopefully, this will be the first in a series of post calling attention to some of the excellent bands that are currently hailing from San Francisco and gobbling up beaucoup press. Why San Francisco? Allow me to explain. First, in my humble opinion, it's home to some of the most rippin' Garage, lo-fi, psych outfits of the moment. Second, to honor one of my favorite cities in the world and the future landing site of my US return, unofficially slated for the 27th of November (More on that as the story develops).

Enough already, The Mantles. These guys have been hovering below the radar for the last couple of years releasing just a couple of 7''s, the first on Dulc-I-Tone Records, most notable for containing the hit track "Burden." The second single with the A Side) Trust and the B Side) Secret Heart was released through the art collective/record label Mt. St. Mtn., the very same people responsible for earlier releases from The Oh Sees & Sic Alps. Their first full length was put out a couple of weeks ago by the good folks at Siltbreeze, who seem to do no wrong these days. Check out the opening track from the album here:

The stand-outs for me are Disappearing Act, Don't Lie, & Burden. Their tunes definitely reside in the realm of moody garage pop. On their best tracks they seamlessly merge elements of Pink Frost era The Chills style pop with lo fi surf licks. Add a dash of garage rock revival into the mix and you've got some idea of what The Mantles sound like... to me at least. This is one of the best long plays I've heard in a while and I highly suggest anyone with the means to go out and pick it up at their local record shop. Portland area shoppers would be advised to check out Exiled or Mississippi Records.

Stay Tuned.

Aircon

2009-10-07T08:36:00.000-07:00

I like this song and I hope you do, too.

Never you mind those silly Europeans in the crowd. I know the live version leaves you wanting, but if you're so inclined, get their record and listen to this jam (It has some really great, simple production, but more importantly, some super echo effects), i think you'll find it...awesome.

Detroit may not make cars worth a shit anymore, but they sure do make good Rock & Roll.

Small World

2009-10-03T17:02:00.000-07:00

Man, I just got back from hongdae and i've got some good stories... Especially if you're JW or MMcG... Uggh Wasted.

Bangers

2009-09-29T04:03:00.000-07:00

Here are a couple of soul tunes that are really doing it for me lately. Hope you dig.

It's a soul group from New Orleans called the Skull Snaps. First up. What the fuck? What is a skull snap and what is the name supposed to imply or mean? I don't know, mang. The song bangs. The album cover rules, the name rules, and the songs rule. The PR however, makes not one bit of sense.

Next up we have an Oakland legend by the name of Darondo. The man was born in Berkeley and resided in the the great Bay for the majority of his life. He was never a big hit, never managing more than some modest noteriety and playing residencies at several hip bay area clubs. His music career more or less bottomed out in the early 70's and he turned to the pimping as a way of life. Not much of him was heard until recently when a compilation was issued with one of his songs... not my favorite tune, but one that caught the attention of many collectors and afficionados. Anyway, I love this song for it's hard funk back beat and it's poignant, politically conscious lyrics, particularly for a man who would later make a profit on selling women. I first heard his songs in the basements Carib & Alex at the urging of my good friend Sean A. Smith. How I miss the days of listening to old records in musty basements.

The dude, had something to him, a real smooth cat . Dig the rings. How could I not love him?

I love Darondo's commentary on the space race.

MOCA

2009-09-27T03:11:00.000-07:00

This past weekend R-dog and I went to the Korean National Museum of Contemporary Art. It was pretty bitchin'. The place is way out in the cut. It's located at a subway stop called Seoul Grand Park, which from what I could gather is sort of bastard child between Washington Park (The place has hiking trails, a rose garden AND a zoo) and A second rate amusement park, plus... well the MOCA.

This is the artist statement for the permanent exhibit in the foyer. It's pretty colossal. If you can't read the statement it mentions that the exhibit is comprised of two different exhibitions (I think that is the right term, I'm not to hip to art terminology). One of them is basically a retrospective of this guys work dating back to the early 80's and consists of around 60,000 3x3'' tiles and other assorted objects that line the spiral walkway that goes up a good 4 floors, easy.

There was no flash photography permitted at the light situation was pretty low. The pictures suffer a little.

I believe this piece was entitled, "The More The Better." Duh.

The piece was composed of just over 1,000 televisions of various sizes. Most the televisions were blaring their own independent images, but several of them were synchronized to display massive images with like a 10x10 tv spread.

There is a Werner Herzog quote that goes somewhere along the lines of, "Our children will hate us for not throwing grenades into TV stations..." And another that explains that the greatest problem facing mankind is a lack of new, compelling images. I can't decide if i think he would love this or hate it. I'm veering towards the latter.

Elton John's wet dream.

This is what Transformers look like in Korea.

This is a photo of Seoul Land. Walt Disney must be turning in his fucking grave.

Slumbo.

Later in the evening we retired to Kagnam for some Korean BBQ, frozen yogurt, and a session of those sticky pictures all the FOBS from high school used to plaster all over their lockers and key chains... I don't know, maybe that was just my high school.

I've got less than two months left. Stay tuned.

Music For A Better Tomorrow

2009-09-24T07:49:00.000-07:00

While I have to admit that my favorite song by Royal Trux at the moment is Lightning Boxer (off the same album as this fine song. The second self titled album- the one with the skulls on it) this song was the first one that really blew my mind. I first heard about this band from my friend John W. who is in my humble opinion a master and scholar of relavent 20th century-contemporary music. The man mans a record label by the name of Holy Mountain and if you don't know you ought to. At any rate, he being a big Rolling Stones fan mentioned that he felt like RT was the modern equivalent of my favorite band, the Rolling Stones. Now I'm not sure if I totally jive with that, but that said, the band rules and shares it's fair share of traits with the greats. The song always reminds me of William S. Burroughs in the G. V. Sant film Drug Store Cowboy- A very positive connection in my mind. I love these modern day outlaw heros & romantics. I hope you do, too.

Preambles first. Now I readily admit I am not computer saavy in the least and have often been drinking before posting (Read Always). While this may not be the highest quality video, I still love it. For fuck's sake the vocals and video are out of synch. This video reminds me of my good Polish friend, Jack Janowski- A prince among thieves, a lord among the lost. The man is ghetto rich. He is broke on the regular, has the bills to prove it and yet he still has the biggest fucking TV I have ever seen. It is on that TV that we would retire back to his house in West Oakland and channel youtube videos of the Stones until our eyes burned or superior senses emerged. It is that feeling of being three sheets to the wind, slumped in an old couch and watching the Stones stilted and out of synch that this video reminds me of. It is my favorite Stones song of the moment and I hope you dig.

Stay tuned

Bruno Delicious

2009-09-24T07:25:00.000-07:00

This is a short film collage by my man Nick Bruno. He is a real swell guy who just loves to chop it up- music, art, and film. I'm pretty sure he's still working at Video Verite, so if anyone catches eyes with him, make sure you tell him I send him my love. I feel like this video is particularly blog worthy, first because I think of all the films in his modest catalog i may like this one the best, although his short film entitled Ornamental Heart does a lot for me as well. Second, because i feel like this video's collage form is postmoderism incarnate, much like the blog. Now I have always been more Hobbesian in my perception of the world (I mention this because J. Locke and Hobbes are often compared to one another in political philosophy) in that I believe that life is a fundamentally, short, brutal, solitary, and a rather cacophonous existence. Be that as it may. I like the film- The images and the poetry. At any rate, dig it.

If you are schmitten with the man's work please view more at the youtube. His handle is FilmbyNick. Duh.

Stay Tuned.

Welcome to the Void

2009-09-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

This song totally rules. Please excuse the excessive use of force.

Above Ground Sounds

2009-09-21T06:53:00.000-07:00

While this is not my favorite song on the album it was the best one I could find during a rudimentary search on the old tube. This guy totally rules. The dude was super handsome and wrote some righteous tunes. I highly recommend the songs, "She belongs to me" and "Hard to Keep My Mind On You." Both songs are about man and his perennial affection for the attractive.

In other news....

Floyd Mayweather, who many considered the best pound for pound fighter prior to his sudden retirement (And it should be noted, pre- Manny Pacquiao hayday), remerged in the ring to take on the Mexican fighter Juan Manuel Marquez. Now let it be known straight off the bat. I'm not a big Mayweather fan. I think the guy is an excellent fighter. Without question an amazing fighter in the same tradition and Pernell Whitker of his father, Floyd Sr. All amazing defensive fighters, all quick as lighting, all very skilled pugilists, all weak on KO power. That said... I don't like the guy. I think he is an immature man who blames his inability to sell a fight and unpopularity on racism, when in fact i think it has more to do with the perception that he is an arrogant prick with a chip on his shoulder. Many have also claimed that he emerged as the greatest in an era when his division was not especially deep. Sure, he fought and beat some amazing fighters. I mean the guys is 40-0 at this point. There's no denying that he has amazing skill. Now however is the time for him to prove his greatness. His weight class is deep, there are some real stellar fighters out there in his division. Now is the time to come out of retirement and prove himself. Anyway, i diverge. What I wanted to comment on is how lame I think it was for Mayweather, a naturally heavier, bulkier, muscular fighter to call a catch weight for the fight ( I believe it was 144 although i know there was some discrepancy about that weight in july when the fight was originally scheduled... but it should be noted that the vague terms were 143 give or take a pound not above.) and then come to weigh in 2 pounds over weight. While this may not seem like a big deal, I would argue it is, although i don't necessarily think it was the deciding factor in the fight. First of all, Marquez is a naturally smaller fighter, considerably smaller. He typically fights around 130 lbs. The man had to gain about 10 lbs for the fight, which meant he had to adjust his speed to that weight. No easy feat. Second, as mentioned before, Mayweather is a larger fighter, he fights more in the 145 to 155 range. Third, you can assume that both of the fighters were denying themselves fluids and making an effort to make weight JUST below the limit. However, Marquez was most likely already pushing himself pretty hard to bring himself up to the fighting weight while still maintaining his speed and agility, therefore we can assume he probably isn't gaining much weight after weigh in, maybe 5 pounds, tops. Mayweather on the other hand is a naturally heavier fighter and we can assume, that he is going to gain much more weight after the weigh in. Likely, Marquez came into the ring somwhere around 148-150 whereas Mayweather, who weighed in at 146 was probably coming in somewhere around 155. Now as I said before, I don't think that this was a deciding factor in the fight. I think Mayweather probably would have won regardless. He is quicker, stronger, and a better boxer... he lacks Marquez's heart, but simply put, he has a better skill set. I do however think that it was disrespectful for Mayweather to not take the weight in seriously enough to make it. He could have, he was a partner in agreeing to it, he just did not show the discipline to make it and discipline i have to think is a fighters most prized asset. I feel for old Marquez getting hit with an extra few pounds over the course of 36 minutes... It isn't sportsman like. At any rate, this sets the stage for a premier fight in about 6-12 months for a bout between the winner of the Cotto v. Pacquiao fight in november. I eagerly anticipate it, A) Because I would love to see Floyd beat and B) because i think the likely match up of Pacquiao v. Mayweather to be a rather exciting if unsure fight. Enough said. The next few months are going to be exciting for boxing fans and i hope you stay tuned for my admittedly amateur analysis.

To wrap things up: I have less than 9 weeks left in Koreaville. I shall be returning to the hinterland the third week of November and no later if all goes according to plan. Next week will mark the one year mark of my sojourn from the great city of Portland. I miss you lady Portland and hopefully we will share embraces soon.

Bam. That's it. I'll be posting something at least bi weekly from here on out. there I said It.

As always. Stay tuned.

Yeti Fest

2009-04-11T04:42:00.000-07:00

So if you're in Portland tonight and you're not going to Yeti Fest you might want to get your head examined. The event, hosted at Holocene is going to feature music from some of the best bands in the old rock & roll business (that is if your preferences tend to lean towards the low-fi, garage punk, psych-drone end of the spectrum). The whole shebang is organized by the proprietor of the esteemed local (maga)zine Yeti, Mike McGonigal (who also happens to have all my shit stored in his attic). As well as being able to lurk around some bitchin' bands, you'll have the esteemed pleasure of hearing DJ Yeti (Mike, duh) spin some of his fabulous records, of which there are thousands. While you're there you should also take the opportunity to grab the latest issue of Yeti which has features and tracks from some of the finest acts gracing the stages of today including and not limited to: Vivian Girls, Eat Skull, Sic Alps, Times New Viking, Cystal Stilts, Cause Co-motion, Blank Dogs, e*rock,The Clean, and a look back at outsider musician Mingering Mike. As if that wasn't enough of a reason to attend, I'm pretty sure there is going to be some radical merch being hocked at the show, including, from what I understand to be reliable information, CDR's of Eat Skulls upcoming release on Siltbreeze, Wild & Inside and a compilation of all of their previously undigitized 7'' releases. Both are Winners. Don't be a loser.

For your own edification, or if you're an unlucky bastard like myself and will be unable to attend due to geographic constraints, here is a look at some of the talent. Enjoy:

This song is fantastic... and really seems to work well with the bizarre Asian tv show.

An absolute banger. I love this song.

These guys are one of my favorite bands. Period.

In related news, on the other side of town Psychedelic Horse Shit, Coconut Coolouts, & Pierced Arrows are playing a show at KLC's annual Sunburn festival out in the cut (Lewis & Clark College 0615 SW Palatine Hill Rd). This is the first time in the last couple of years that it has had a stellar line up. The thing lastspretty much all day and has some really decent bands playing. I think it is only like five bucks, too. For more info check out:

http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfmfuseaction=blog.view&friendId=49939017&blogId=481115259

Facial Features

2009-04-06T06:32:00.000-07:00

In the spirit of change, the spirit of spring I decided to shed my winter beard, as sparse as it was, and opt for some new facial features. Given my limited facial hair growing abilities I went with this charming little configuration:

I can't say I'm crazy about the look. I have to say I pictured it looking a little more appealing. Perhaps more conquistador and less barrio. So given my indifference and curiosity regarding the matter I have decided to open the question up to my dozen or so blogologists: What should I do with my face?

Beyond the pure aesthetics of the issue, lets take a look into the practicality of said topic. The beard is the easiest configuration to maintain. It require absolutely no maintenance for about 2 months and then only a trim about once a week after that. Shaving everyday for the hairless looks is kind of a pain in the ass, but I suppose millions of men do it everyday, so i'll limit my complaining. Furthermore, the hairless look would be a change from the last 3.5 months, so there's that to consider as well. The mustache is probably about the same amount of work as shaving everyday, but there is the added benefit of looking like a total creep, which is appealing on some level. Finally, there is the status quo option, the above look. I don't know, like I said, i'm a little skeptical... I'm not too sure I can take it seriously or how much I really like it, so please weigh in. Please cast your vote in the upper right hand corner of the blog and leave comments to convey the conviction of your votes.

R.I.P

Get Buck: Black Out Club takes it to Nippon

2009-03-30T05:34:00.000-07:00

Just bringing Buck to the land of the rising sun. Zerked.

Rachel was easily the most poised person present at any point in the evening. When others were getting shitty she was getting her glam on.

Just two office jocks cutting loose like freshmen on spring break.

Bringing it down to stand by mode.

This picture kind of reminds me of a killer whale crashing through the water and ascending into the air.

Getting buck with some Hotel wrestling

It's worth noting that this was all fully on autopilot, if it wasn't already painfully obvious.

Sean looks flabbergasted, Takuoka looks happier than a pig in shit, and I'm looking downright ferocious.

The self satisfaction of a blacked out drunk in his underwear. Everyone was pretty caught off guard by this move, but as anyone who has put in some serious drinking time with me knows it's only a matter of time before the clothes come off.

I'm fairly certain TK is pointing at me accusingly as if trying to convince someone to do something about my state of undress. Sean is looking pretty unsure.

Down for the count.

Sean putting it down like a champ

There is something strangely erotic about this photo...

Golden Gai part 1

2009-03-29T03:46:00.000-07:00

When I last left off we were leaving the batting cage in search of sustenance and booze. Naturally, we found both. Unfortunately, and what would eventually lead to my undoing, we found much less of the prior than the latter. In the interim between leaving the cages and winding up in this cozy little bar we managed to get our hands on some fried Japanese cuisine, a few mugs of beer, and another half pint of whisky (this time opting for the tried and true: Johnny Walker Red). By the time we waltzed into this bar I was already a little sloppy as I had been suffering from a mean case of the hungry's all day long and truly did not have enough fuel in the tank for the sheer magnitude of the impending bender. So that brings us up to speed, too much booze and not enough food.

This young Salary Man was named Takouya...(or some variation there of. I think between Sean, Rachel, and myself he wound up having about 10 different names.) He was a very pleasant young man who seemed to enjoy partying with us, perhaps for no other reason than he was at least as drunk as we were and were not to discerning in our choice of company.

Ever the pensive.

I believe at this point Takouya and myself were exchanging contact information. I still have the sheet of paper with said info on it, but fluid saturation, poor handwriting, and the language barrier have made it virtually undecipherable.

Ah. God bless this patient soul for whom we gave so many reasons to 86 us.

Truth be told, I think they rather enjoyed our company and indulged most of our silly requests for photos.

Glamour Shotz

getting some sake behind the bar...

Rock meets Peace

This was the first sign of a devilish grin that would surface time and time again throughout the evening.

There's nothing more empowering than embracing a pretty lady.

And this is where things really began to go south for our hero...

To be continued...

Stay tuned.

Fake Baseball

2009-03-26T06:34:00.001-07:00

Hey Folks! Thanks for still coming by the old web address after a month of unexplained absences. When we last left off, I was at the Incheon International Airport detailing the fancy get-ups all the Korean flight attendants were wearing and waiting to fly into Japan. Well, I made it... at times barely. Some highlights include getting blacked out my first night in Tokyo and almost getting my passport stolen from my hotel room, wrestling in my underwear, seeing a bum jerkoff in a cardboard box, all you can drink beer, Japanese speakeasies, puking 45 stories in the sky, Japanese Rock & Roll and spending the night passed out in Kareoke parlors. Most of this would not have been possible without the selfless help of my friend from college, Toku. He was our omniscient & benevolent tour guide without whom, few of the awesome things we experienced would have been possible. Domo Arigato Gozaimas, Toku-san!

Here are some pics of our first night in Tokyo. We were in the Golden Gai section of Shinjuku. After procuring some 3 dollar half pints of Suntory whisky Sean, Rachel and I made for the town in search of trouble and adventure. We found both.

These pics are merely an aside, a short pit stop before things got weird.

Big Liquor, son.

These were coin operated batting cages complete with virtual, pixalated pitchers.

3 bucks scored you 25 pitches.

Given the recent Japanese victory in the World Baseball Cup, I suppose you could say that these are some of the best virtual pitchers in the world.

Proper form is crucial

They were all home runs. I swear to God.

Stay Tuned.

Airport Blogging

2009-02-24T17:52:00.000-08:00

So, I'm over here at the Incheon International Airport at the NAVER lounge (Naver is basically like the Google or Yahoo of Korea. They are the go to website for any cultural or relevant news, they do email, internet searches, have movie times, like I said, they are basically the equivalent of a yahoo or google type page, only way more popular since this is pretty much the only website that offers these services over here.) So far, the trip has been pretty good, albeit relatively uneventful. The airport shuttle took way less time than I suspected, so I arrived to the airport an hour before I had anticipated leaving me with 4 hours to kill before my plane takes off. Leaving me time to create this arguably superfluous post.

Here's some observations based on my short stay here at Incheon.

1. The airport is really nice and clean. I think it was just renovated like 4 years ago or something and it is really tidy. They have motorized ride-along brooms that essentially look like a those sit down scooters that geriatrics ride only with a swivel broom attached to the bottom. These things zip around here at a pretty good clip, their drivers stoic and stern faced as ever.

2. All of the stewardess' have really great outfits. Like Pan-AM circa 1965 great outfits. They all walk around in little packs, like warring street gangs traversing their turf. They all look very pretty and their are no over weight ones. It's a little bit strange and slightly off putting, because you have to wonder if the airlines are using some sort of discriminatory hiring practices to get all of these skinny, homogenous looking flight attendants. Their is a crew of flight attendants that wear this khaki colored outfit comprised of a secretary skirts and a tight fitted blazer with a really sweet red sash/scarf around their necks. They all seem to have their hair in buns as well. There is another click that has, what i think is the best get-up, a kind of pink and teal pant suit outfit, but very well tailored to each of the attendants. I don't think I have seen a single male flight attendant. I wish I could hook up my digital camera to this computer, but it looks like photos of the flight attendants are going to have to wait.

3. All of the American GI's stick out like a sore thumb. They all have the same pasty white skin, stupid hair cut and terrible jeans. They also seem to be magnetically attracted towards one another as they always seem to be chatting in pairs.

Gotta Go. The plane is boarding. Adios.

By The Time You Read This...

2009-02-24T05:20:00.000-08:00

Hopefully, I will be doing this.

God Bless the Japanese bicycle

The bizarre phenomenon that is the maid bar.

Adios, folks. I will return to the Shame Threshold in a manner of days bearing many photos and stories. Be well.

xoxo

Kids Incorporated Mix Blog

2009-02-23T06:49:00.000-08:00

Here's a mix of some of my favorite Kids Incorporated musical performances. Hope you enjoy.

DO IT!

The Kid (Rahsaan Patterson) had some of the best dance moves on the whole show and some killer pipes. He did a bang up job with the Michael Jackson covers as you can see above and below.

There's something about seeing a 12 year old boy sing a song about illegitimate children...

You can't tell me they didn't hit this one out of the fucking park. It's an 80's music video knocking off an 80's music video of Michael Jackson knocking off the Roaring 20's.

This Michael Jackson video was easily my favorite music video when I was a kid. I can't tell you how many times I watched this video trying to nail down those gay gangster dance moves. Oh, the thinly veiled homoeroticism of Michael Jackson videos. Man, I wanted to be the Kid so bad

Kids Incorporated had all the big stars.

Jennifer Love Hewitt

Fergy giving perhaps the finest performance of her career with this rendition of the classic 80's Jam, Locomotion

This one rules.

Girls DO just wanna have fun.

Wholesome 80's fun.

My 7 year old heart bled for Martika. She kind of had that same vibe as Jennifer Beals in Flashdance.

FUCK! I love Hall & Oates. This is easily one of their best songs AND you throw Martika into the mix... Say it isn't so.

This one easily had some of the best production value of any of their performances.

Man, and dig all those crazy flips, spins, and other whacky aerials. So cool.

These kids also pumped out some pretty legit Madonna covers.

Holy Shit. Urban Dance moves, J. Love Hewitt, Secret hand shakes, fist pumps, and early 90's post production... Get out of here.

All those great hits in under 3 minutes... Kids Inc. Will never die.

Tokyo-A-Go-Go

2009-02-22T06:11:00.000-08:00

In three short days I will make my debut in the Land of the Rising Sun. I'm going to be in Tokyo from the 25th to the 1st and would like all of your advice on what I absolutely must see. I think I'm going to to be staying around Shibuya for most of the trip. I don't really have a strict agenda or anything, just some basic ideas on what I want to check out: Some Japanese Psych Rock, a Maid bar, Bathhouse, Record Shops, Harajuku fashion, and whatever cutty shit I can think of between now and then. Please let me know if you can think of any activities of destinations that are absolutely not to be missed.

The next few days are going to be pretty slow blog wise. You can expect some choice youtube highlights (including a best of Kids Incorporated youtube mix) and then most likely a period of dead time while I'm on vacay. Hope to hear from some of you.

xoxo

One of the Greatest Psych Rock Outfits ever: Les Rallizes Denudes

Shibuya Crossing

Maid Bar

Gothic Lolita stylings in Harajuku

Bath Time

Japanese Accomodations

Thizzin

2009-02-19T05:54:00.000-08:00

Just 'cause I can't get enough.

This is easily my favorite dance craze to sweep the youth of America. Never before has getting zerked out and boogied down looked so good.

A cursory examination into the multicultural roots of the "Thizz Dance"

Side note: What's up with midgets always having the most ripped quadriceps? All the short ones have Mack truck sized legs, pure power. They kind of remind me of the donkey children in Pinochio, those dudes always had major thighs. Perhaps this is fodder for a future post. Stay tuned.

Pacific Northwest Films 2

2009-02-19T04:37:00.000-08:00

I'm going to keep this post brief because I'm sure everyone frequenting this here internet site is more than familiar with the hometown hero, Gus Van Sant. Regardless, I can't help but harp a little bit on how swell I think his movies are. I'll only touch on some of his older Portlandcentric films, but for the record I think that 90% of his output is solid gold. He is among the best film makers currently working and surely the best in the Pacific Northwest. Lets work backwards.

Mala Noche is a tale of gutter love on Portland's Skid row. Taking place primarily in Chinatown and inner east Burnside to story is one of asymetrical gay love. Based on a Book by Portland poet laureate, Walt Curtis, the story is one of asymetrical gay love. The story is based on Walt's time as a clerk at a greek corner store in in Chinatown. He become infatuated with one of the migrant, itinerant Mexican laborers that famously traveled through P town in the 70's. Even though the object of Walt's affection does very little to encourage his advances, Walt remains steadfast in his pursuit of the young lover. It is a bizarre interplay of the two characters continually trying to take advantage of one another,or simply trying to achieve the upper hand in the strange relationship. It is a simple, poignant tale of love in the slums of the PNW. I could say a million and one wonderful things about this film, but I'll resist. If you haven't managed to catch this one, do so immediately.

Johnny

Movie Walt

Walt Curtis

It doesn't get much better for me than this one. Drugs, Crime, 70's fashion,William S. Burroughs, road stories, and Portland. This one has it all. Based on the book by James Fogle, this one tells the story of a band of criminal dope fiends who traverse the Pacific Northwest constantly on the lookout for drugstores and hospitals to rip off and any other easy score along the way. This movie is a wonderfully faithful adaptation of the novel, I mean almost shot for shot, word for word. The film has some of the best montages ever comitted to celuloid (most memorable perhaps is the drug paraphenalia montage shot by the second unit in the first half of the film). The dialogue is quick witted, informed, and extremely funny. If you live in Portland, you'll immediately pick up on local landmarks like the old nob hill drug store on the corner of 21st and glisan that got closed down a few years back. I've seen this one a hundred times and I never get tired of it.

Hippest crew of dope fiends this side of everywhere.

Loosely based on Shakespeare's King Henry the IV plays, this film is perhaps more accurately described as the tale of two street hustlers making their way through the sordid world of the Pacific Northwest's male prostitution scene. Whether or not the film is finely acted is up for debate (I think it may be Keanu Reeves best role, but still, it's Keanu and you either like him or you don't), but what is not however, is the superb cimetography and excellent direction. This film is chalked full of winning moments. Great montages (the sex montage with Udo Kier is maybe my favorite montage in all of film), strange creative choices (the gay porn cover scene), wonderful fetish shots (The Dutch boy) and the fucked up face. This movie will make you fall in love with River Phoenix, Portland, and male prostitutes. Love it.

Down and Out in the Pacific Northwest

2009-02-18T03:44:00.000-08:00

Many of my favorite films revolve around destitute, desperate, denizens surviving on the fringes of society. Films about lost souls, survivors, and criminals. Odes to freedom seekers and outcasts. Stark portrayals and gritty depictions of life in the gutter. Chronicles of the down and out.

For me, the best locale, the best stage to set these grimey stories is the Pacific Northwest. Country that is beset by its own gloom. A region where the clouds reign supreme from rise to set and the rain pounds the pot holes for much of the year. Whether it's the omnipresent damp air or the domineering gray landscapes, or some other far reaching phenomenon, there is something about the PNW that reeks of depression. It's as if the the old PNW is always looming high over the heads of it's citizens, slowly blowing messages of despondency and desolation through the night skies. The Pacific Northwest is more than a setting for these films, it is a character that infiltrates every scene of it's movies, every last corner of a thousand lonely hearts.

These films serve as an elegy to the Northwest, a reminder of so many of the things that make me miss this forlorn world.

This is one of my favorite documentaries that takes place in the Pacific Northwest. It tracks the lives of several street kids surviving the streets of Seattle in the early 80's. Everyone is beset by their demons, whether they be prostitution, drugs, lonliness, and/or destitute poverty. These kids are alone at sea. All they have are their wits, their alliances, and their dreams. Tragically romantic. The characters from this film are so intimately portrayed that you can't help feeling a genuine sense of loss and compassion for each character as they wander in and out of the film. Also perhaps one of the best uses of the song "Teddy Bear's Picnic," performed by Baby Gramps, the famous Pacific Northwest Street musician. There are also a couple of songs by Tom Waits, including the theme song for one of the characters, "Rat" that are not to be missed. You can watch the whole film on youtube, but if your savvy enough, I sould suggest downloading the bittorrent. I don' think this one has been put out on dvd yet, so your chances of finding a hard copy are pretty slim.

Jeff Bridges and Edward Furlong in American Heart

American Heart was inspired by Streetwise. Pictured above is Tiny consulting on the film.

Glammed up street kids in American Heart

American Heart follows the lives of a desperate family comprised of an ex-convict and his street son. The films is the dramatization of Streetwise and does an exceptionally good job at remaining faithful the the themes and mood of the source material. Even though it' very clear which characters from American Heart are based on characters from Streetwise, the film does a great job of giving new life to the fictionalized characters, but still manages to avoid giving the characters a predictable hollywood slant and heavily moralizing their actions. This one is absolutely not to be missed. It is a superb story that is finely acted and remarkably authentic.

Tomorrow I will continue with a look at Gus Van Sant's depictions of life in the Northwest. Stay tuned.

Wolf Haven International

2009-02-15T03:36:00.001-08:00

This past summer I had the pleasure of going on a little post 4th of July vacation with Rachel and my good friends Lance & Erika to visit the beautiful capital of Washington, Olympia. The vacation was a resounding success with much, antique shopping, thrift store perusing, and crate digging. However, it was not the quaint city of Olympia that held the trip's highlight for me. No sir. It was a small town located some 13 miles off of I-5 and 20 minutes south of Olympia. A small town by the name of Tenino Washington, which just so happens to be the site of one of the most amazing facilities I have ever bore witness to.

Now if you're a close personal friend, or just someone I happen to talk to on a regular basis, there is a strong chance that I have already smoked your ear off with talk of this enchanting locale, but either way, allow me (re)tell the tale of the ethereal, the enchanted, the amazing... Wolf Haven International

I first heard of this amorous fortress from Lance on the way to Olympia. He very casually mentioned that he had caught wind of a sanctuary for wolves and if we were so inclined, we could easily visit it on our journey. Not one to ever pass up the opportunity to clock some real live wolves, I jumped at the chance and immediately made my intentions of visiting this before unheard of destination known.

On the morning of our final day of holiday we pulled our alcohol poisoned chassis' out from bed and drove southbound to the land of redeemed wolves, all of us eager to discover the unique treasures of this only spoken of sanctuary. Upon arriving we were greeted by the howls of wolves and this stately sign:

Lance and I announcing our presence and paying respects to our four legged friends.

We arrived during the middle of one of the hour long tours through the wolf sanctuary and so, after purchasing our tickets for the next scheduled tour, we were left to explore the surrounding grounds on our own. We decided to first investigate the wolf nature trail, which unbeknownst to us would take us through the monumental wolf cemetery.

A stone statue commemorating one of the forgotten lives of some of earth's most dignified creatures.

RIP, brother.

The wolf sanctuary was nothing short of amazing. It was one of the most touching tributes from man to nature that I have ever seen. I was a very classy affair free of artifice and pretense. All of the wolves who had at one time graced the grounds of Wolf Haven International were given a head stone and grave to commemorate their time on earth and at WHI. The graves were gorgeous. Very simple and clearly inspired by native american culture, they were adorned with dream catchers and headstones emblazoned with poetic epitaphs. I was touched by the love and and care that was put into every single one of these many graves and couldn't help, but became a little teary eyed in their presence.

Good will and love.

Upon exiting the cemetery we ran across the Mani Stupa Stone pile as seen above. Now, I am not one for religion or praying or anything mystical like that, but for some reason, perhaps because I was already feeling emotional from the wolf cemetery, the notion of spreading good will and positive vibes through rocks in the woods seemed overwhelming righteous and I couldn't help but partake.

Finally, our time arrived and we entered the gates of the wolf sanctuary. Immediately, I was struck by the presence of greatness. The wolves were everywhere, albeit behind cyclone fences. They were on all sides of us. Never stationary, the wolves were always pacing and glaring, doing their super model walk, moving forward with one leg after the other. In perpetual motion. We saw many kinds of wolves, but perhaps the most awe inspiring and plentiful of these creatures were the Mexican Grey wolves. It were these great beasts that the facility was charged with rearing and releasing into the wild. After we had seen many a wolf and the tour was coming to a close, we reached the final enclosement. At that exact moment the earth began to tremble and a distant roar began to permeate the tour's collective consciousness. In precise concert with the quivering and thunder around us the wolves began to howl. Every single one of them. Some 60 plus wolves aimed their muzzles to the heavens and howled for what seemed to be forever. At that instance, everyone seemed to be struck by primordial beauty of these wolves on the mend.

On the way out we caught a glance of Sandy's Trike. Immediately my mind ran wild with visions of an aging diesel dike entering the autumn of her days. A woman rewarding herself after a long an illustrious career as a CO at the state correctional facility. Finally, the day came when that first emancipating pension check came in the mail. I would be spent on this bad boy, this symbol of freedom. For the rest of her days she would answer to neither convict nor warden. She would instead travel the great Northwest on her trusty steed. Her riding partner would be the memory of her never forgotten and always cherished companion, Gidget.

1500 cc's of freedom and love.

God bless Sandy, Gidget, and all the wolves at the haven.

Freedom.

Friends and Fond Memories Version 2.0

2009-02-11T05:46:00.000-08:00

Work has been pretty brutal this week (We are preparing for the final stages of our Winter performance) and I haven't exactly had excess energy when I get to the house to produce new content. I figured this might be a good excuse to post some older content, namely photos of some of my friends. So here we are: for those of you who don't know, these people are my friends and for those of you pictured, who doesn't like to see photo's of themselves on the Internet?

The throwback continues tomorrow with a post from the past about one of my favorite destinations in the Pacific North West: Wolf Haven International. Stay tuned.

My oldest friend, Jack. One of my fondest memories of Jack was when he and I brought in 2006 (I think...) by throwing a 40'' tv off of a stoop in the Mission and almost getting beat down by 4 trill homies on the BART. Awesome.

Karl is party vibes USA. Always down to have a good time and get some. One time Karl and I were driving from Portland to the Bay for Thanksgiving and the engine block in my Volvo cracked. Like kapoot, broken, zeroed out with smoke flowing and oil pouring. We had to get towed for like 200 miles into some bum fuck town about an hour north of Redding. Despite being about 200 lbs overweight, our driver swore he was a pro stock car driver, not NASCAR, but some other cutty semi pro shit. Anyway, he told lots of crazy car racing stories and farted the whole ride.

Steven M. is a friend from my hometown who is currently studying to be a bang up journalist at SF State. He's way into skateboarding and taking photographs of all sorts of wacky shit. He's also a really decent dude. Steven was also with Jack and I on the BART train on New Years. He kept his head down during the whole confrontation and was pissed that Jack kept talking shit to the homeboys, increasing our risk of getting beat down.

Tiffany on the left and Renato on the right. Renato is one of my soul brothers. I don't ever get to see him anymore, as he has a habit of disappearing deep undercover for month's/years on end. The last time I saw him he was wearing some sort of hippie vest and telling me how he needed to smuggle his pet chickens into CA... I don't know dude. I just hope you're happy and I want you to know that I miss you. Renato is the best. He is one of the only people I know who would always have my back. Always.

This is Phil. He is one of the best bar tenders in Portland and if you're lucky enough he'll serve you up some cutty prohibition era cocktail on the sly. He always seems to be working on some new cocktail and will hook you up with said recipe if you're interested. One time Phil and I went to this swank bar in the Pearl and had flights of single malt scotch. It was tight, but we got over the vibe pretty quick and spent the rest of the afternoon boozin down on a budget at the Low Brow. Phil seems to either walk everywhere or take a cab. Although he hasn't said it, all other forms of transportation seem to be irrelevent if not obsolete to him. I have Phil to thank for introducing me to Booker's Bourbon, Sazerac Rye, and Plymouth Gin.

This is Paige. Sometimes she likes to make weird faces and wear my bike helmet. I like this picture because it shows how much fun Paige can be, which is not as immediately noticeable as how stylish and pretty she is.

One time Rachel, Paige, and I went to Value Village for some Sunday afternoon thrifting when all of a sudden, Paige informed us that things were beginning to get a little hairy in the guts department and that if it was all the same to us, she would prefer to get going. Get going we did. Unfortunately, on the way home things weren't looking too much better. This became painfully clear to me when somewhere along NE 33rd my back was basted with a healthy dose of Paige puke. This continues to be one of my favorite stories to tell anytime vomit enters the realm of conversation. Sorry, Paige. That's the price you pay for puking on me in the car.

Palladino to the left, Carib to the Right. Every wednesday, this pair, A. Harris and myself would get together and listen to records for hours. We called it the Record of the Month club even though we met every week. Getting together with a group of friends and listening to records may be my favorite thing to do. Seriously.

Lance has a healthy sense of adventure and a sharp tongue. One of my favorite things about Lance is that when he get wasted he gets this boyish grin on his face and you know it only a matter of time before he starts banging on whatever's around and begins to freestyle about whatever the fuck is going on in his sick, drunken mind. He is also a really great guy to go on vacation with as he is surprisingly organized (dude can whip up an agenda like nobody's biz).

A. Harris rules. I like playing basketball with him because he's all limbs (Like 6'4'' of them, the dude's tall). He is a super nice guy and charming as a can be. Women can barely resist him, I swear, I've seen it.

Morris makes awesome movies and is nice to everyone. He is one of the only people I know who is really following his dream, so I've got nothing but love for him. If you see him, buy him a drink. You won't regret it.

Josh LOVES to have a good time. The first time I met him we partied for like 30 hours. Midway through I woke up on the floor of some house in Sellwood I had never seen drunk, and confused. It was only a matter of minutes until everyone we were with piled into Josh's Impala (Which looks like a fucking bomb went off in it) and went to get breakfast. Once we were comfortably seated at one of my favorite breakfast destinations (The Detour Cafe) we ordered our breakfast and decided to order a bottle of champagne. One became three and I quickly knew I had made a friend.

Man I wish I was better friends with this Guy. Scotty is one of the most awesome dudes I have ever met. The dude used to be a straight hellion in his younger days, blacking out whisky drunk on the regular. I once heard a story of some of his friends U-locking his neck to a cyclone fence when he had passed out. Very excellent. Scotty is really good at going undercover in the woods and looking like he is about 45, but really he's only like 26 or 27. He can grow one of the best mustaches I think I've ever seen. Scotty also used to have the most wretched dread heads I have ever seen on anyone, black or white. In his drivers license he has the face of Spicoli and the dreads of a Marley. It also happens to be from New Jersey. This guy is made of good stories and party dust.

Peter is just as cool as he looks in this picture.

My favorite Pete Fagin story involves the discovery of a questionable clear baggy, even more questionable bars, and Chinatown. No further information shall be divulged.

Santi and Erica just playing it cool. The first time I met Erika my eyes almost exploded out of my head. Lance had been continuing a long distance relationship with her for like a year or something and would always talk about her. Neither myself nor anyone I knew had actually seen her, so I began to have my doubts as to whether or not she actually existed. I was really on the fence with the whole issue. Turns out she is real and really awesome. I like the way she sasses Lance around a say his name, "Lahhhhnce."

Stevo to the left Devo to the right.

Steven can squeeze two dimes out of a nickel. He is one of the most frugal, penny pinching dudes I have ever met and I mean that in the best possible way. He never seems to have disposable income, but you can find him partying and having a good time just about every night of the week. Truly admirable. He is also a primo record nerd and common site at record stores throughout Portland.

Devo enjoys petting his cat Walter, driving his car Geoffrey, and making bitchin' stained glass art pieces. He is also really pretty.

Danny, Joanne, and Nick

Nick is a talented architect that works for a hot shit firm downtown. He loves playing music by himself in his room and drinking bud light until he passes out. Dude has some sketchy bowels and sometimes needs to let deuce at a moments notice. He calls his affliction "guts." One time he got the guts so bad he had to take a shit in the little alley in between the little cyclone fence and the Plaidy on Interstate.

Joanne is my friend and former neighbor. She would always stop by my previous place of employment and shoot the shit with me, keep me up to date on neighborhood gossip, and just generally wild out. She used to call me "Arithmetic" because it always took me forever to count up her change and sometimes even then I would fuck it up. I think she gave me another more charitable nick name at some point, but I nor anyone else can seem to remember that one. Oh, and sometimes she wears one of those tall tees that has the body of a "sexy" lady in a bikini on it, so the person wearing it looks like they are standing behind one of those photo cut out things. That shit rules.

Lima teaching Johnny to high five.

Johnny is a former classmate (is that the word? I mean he went to my college, but we never had any classes together) that also used to live around the corner from me. He is grade A smart ass who loves to talk some shit, which I love. I think for the first 2 years I knew him I couldn't tell if he liked me or couldn't stand me. Anyway, one of my fondest memories with Johnny was when we went on a Bar tour of as many shitty bars on Lombard as we could fit into one evening. The next morning I woke up drunk in the front seat of my car with a case of stolen beer and two dirty pint glasses.

One of the few pictures of the elusive Rick Delucco.

Rick is a bang up artist and one of the nicest dudes I have ever met. He often has work on display at Tender Loving Empire (NW 17th and Lovejoy). He has made several children's books, countless awesome paintings and drawings, and all sorts of other cutty prints. One time Rick got his Corolla stolen from right under his nose and 4 months later received a phone called notifying him that his vehicle had been recovered. Miraculously enough, the car wasn't even that fucked up. It turns out some teenagers had stolen it and just drank a bunch of beer and smoked in the thing until it ran out of gas. I can't remember for sure, but they might have peed in it, too. I don't know though.

Homeboy line up.

From Left to Right: Sean, Johnny, Mitch, Devo.

Miss you guys.

xoxo

World Report: Broken Bones & Trife Beards

2009-02-09T05:18:00.000-08:00

One of my Super Friends busted up his wrist yesterday skateboarding down Mission. I wish you a speedy, healthy recovery and would expect nothing less from an ox of a man like yourself. Remember, you just broke your wrist not your spirit, stay buck. Here's to healthy bones and free painkillers.

The bone formerly known as Karl's healthy wrist.

In other completely unrelated news, I am one month deep into my annual beard growing saga. So far this year is shaping up fairly well and looks to be an improvement on last years record setting performance. This year my beard has several factors working in it's favor to make this year another record shattering spectacle. First and foremost, I don't give a fuck. I have vowed complete commitment and have no self conscious thought about growing at all. Last year I was a little taciturn and didn't really fully commit to the endevour, perhaps a little bit too self conscious about my lackluster facial hair. Last year I set a goal of 8 weeks of full on growth. I believe I made it about 6-7 weeks with several trims inbetween. This year I have no goal in sight, I simply exist to grow. No trims, as I simply do not have beard trimming equipment at my immediate disposal. I really believe that there are no limits to this beard and could foresee it's continued growth for 3 maybe four months... who knows really. Anyway, hear are some photos, as a few of my regular readers have privately expressed interest in this years beardathon. No Fear.

Four weeks deep.

Patchy, yes, true. That's just my style.

Current beard inspirations include my good friend Rick Delucco, Bears (The gay kind), Lumberjacks, Dennis Wilson, and Thelonius Monk. Really though, I would be happy with a Keanu Reeves level of patchiness.

Ideally, and I think this may be within the realm of possibilities, I would like to sport a V. Gallo level beard, circa the photo below:

I don't expect you to understand, Lilly.

To my Portland readers: It has just been brought to my attention that Three 6 Mafia played a show recently at the Roseland. Did any of you attend or know anyone who did. Let me know the scooped if you've scooped it.

Alright folks, that's all the news worth knowing. Let me know what you think about the beard good, bad, indifferent, I'm feeling unflappable, so don't hold back. Again, Karl godspeed. All us here at the Shame Threshold (Me) wish you the best. Can't keep a tough customer down.

Dear Momma

2009-02-08T05:31:00.001-08:00

About 2 years ago I was visiting my Pops and I asked him if he had any old pictures of he and my Ma from back when they were my age. My Pops is a class A pack-rack and amateur archivist, so it was only a few moments later that he returned from the garage with a large shoe box filled with old photo prints. We went through probably 200 old pictures and slides from the 70's and 80's all the while tossing the gems into a small pile. When we were done he put the pile of gems in another shoe box and handed them to me, "Here, you should have these. I don't want them anymore."

That small cardboard box and it's contents are among my most prized worldly possessions. I look at them often and think of the times when my Ma and Pops were young and wonder if the problems and pleasures they met then were not unlike the ones I a greet today.

Anyhow, here are some pictures of my Ma in her younger days. I miss her.

Ed. Note: All of these were uploaded using the macro setting on my little digi point and shoot. No scanner folks, sorry.

This is my Ma and my uncle at the zoo. I think my ma was only about 16 or 17 in this one. I really love her jacket and hair style and the old school pop corn bucket aint bad either.

I think my Ma is repping her engagement ring in this picture... or she might just be drunk and dipping in her chair. Very cool shoe/dress combo.

It's nice to have a picture that you can look at and think to yourself, "Oh, my parents actually were cool once." I think this one is from Hawaii when my Pops was in the Navy and they still let you look like a rad sailor.

Ma must have been about 18-19 in this one as I think it was from a wedding practice session.

From left to right: 1. My pops sister, Patricia. 2. My Ma's older sister, Norma. 3. My soon to be wed Ma. 4. Above, my Ma's younger sister, Leticia. 5. Below, My Ma's oldest sister, Gloria.

From left to right: 1. My cousin Paul. 2. My uncle, Bernie. 3. My Ma's pops, Bernardo. 4. My Ma.

I really dig my Ma's ribbon tie in this picture.

Just chillin on the grass with a mystery man.

Ma and a mystery relative on the coast. Fitting the High waist.

This is my uncle Manny (one of the most awesome people in the world. He used to tell me funny stories about him and my pops getting drunk and getting into trouble around El Paso. He was also the only person on my Ma's side of the family who never talked shit about my pops.) and Ma. I think Manny is wearing the same wrangler pants that I rep like everyday.

Ma and her dog, Sundown. Love the ensemble, Ma.

Here I am coming on the scene back in 1984.

Just kicking it in my red Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls with my Ma, who is unafraid of the horizontal stripes... and a flock of flamingos. We aint scurred.

Million Dollar smiles. That 2 millie if you're counting.

Accesorizing

White sun glasses, a blue Great Outdoors day pack, and the critical accesory- Propeller hat. Thanks for spending the 15 bucks and indulging me on that one, Ma

Call your Mom's folks, you know they miss you.

xoxo

Weekend Happenings!

2009-02-06T07:39:00.000-08:00

If you're in Portland this weekend and you dig Rock & Roll, there are two places you need to check out. The first and foremost is Slabtown as it will be showcasing one of the city's finest Rock and Roll showcases, The Bender:

This year the line up is absolutely nuts. The show is basically a showcase for Goner Records from Memphis, one of the best garage labels in the country, and is also hosting great bands from Siltbreeze and tons of excellent local acts. The real highlights are of course the headliners: Mudhoney (Duh), Pierced Arrows (Holy holy these guys are heros), and Jack Oblivion (Ex Oblivions member, his current work is pretty good garage/folk at times sounding like Johnny Thunders, Lou Reed, and every other good band from the early 70's. Great album from Memphis' finest, Goner). Hank IV, excellent straight forward rock with a slight punk leaning just put out an album on Siltbreeze (One of my fav labels) that is pretty bitchn'. Other bands I think are worth checking out are:King Louie, Harlan T. Bobo, Hairspray Blues, Ty Segall, and The Wires. I'm pretty jealous over here in the land without Rock & Roll, I hope you folks wind up checking out as much as you can. You can get a wrist band for 28 bones and that'll get you in to all of the shows, that is if they are still available. Or you can pay 12 dollars a night and risk having the show sell out, which I would be shocked if they didn't. Another noteworthy detail is that the afternoon shows are going to be free. On Saturday Ty Segall will be playing for free and on sunday The Wire will be going at san charge.

Next up, while you're in the neighborhood you need to check out my friend Erin's store on the Corner of NW 17th and Marshall. Right now they are currently in sale mode:

If you're smart, you'll roll by on friday before the show and swoop some new threads, grab a free PBR, and then saunter over another block and scope the Rock & Roll in your new digs. I believe Fringe Vintage closes at 9 PM on Fridays, so don't miss it. If you're not going to the show you should still check out the store anyhow. Fringe also has a new Etsy presence, so you can check out the vintage threads on your modern day tech:

http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6790178

Their blog posting is on the side bar to your right.

If you happen to be in San Francisco then you should definitely check out my friend Matt Palladino's Art opening. Pertinent info below:

Below are some of my favorite Palladino's

Tatiana the tiger in an internet porn situation

The People's Pastor. Jim Jones.

Don't stay in the Rose Garden.

Have a nice weekend folks!

Strange Days, Bizarre Night

2009-02-06T05:28:00.000-08:00

The coming of the weekend has brought with it a strange tidal wave of oddities and anomalies. To kick things off, I have been having a number of strange dreams. I'll spare you a line by line detailing of my trips to Nemo's kingdom, but here are some strange events and characters that were somehow connected in my visions of night:

I am desperately late for High school and running my fastest to meet my destination. However, on the way, I somehow get sidetracked and wind up hiding out in my Dentist's office. I have a very clear image of my Dentist, one Dr. B. Bothwell, a very tall, slender man who is an avid cyclist, completely focused on a full mouth of teeth, steadfastly scraping and poking away. Meanwhile, I slink into the bathroom, which looks less like one found in a dental office and far more like one that you would find in a minor league baseball stadium, rows of dirty urinals surrounded by cheap tiles. Anyhow, for some reason the bowl at the bottom of the urinal is unusually long, meaning that I have to piss about 3 feet to mark the back of the urinal unless I want to be standing in a pool of urine. To make matters worse, there is a large turd chilling where the drain should be. Incidently, I really need to take one, hence lurking in the bathroom to begin with, so in unzip my pants and and let loose. Except this isn't your standard whiz, oh no. Quite the contrary, in fact. As I release, my piss escapes and makes direct contact with the crap at the other end of the bowl. It's explosive. The poop flies everywhere and leaves me speckled with every shade of shit from here to Shanghai. Bummer. From out of nowhere a smarmy, short nosed dental assistant of about 25 enters the bathroom at the exact moment my face turns into a fecal mosaic. He leads me by the arm to a shower stall at the other end of the dental office all the while with an oily grin slapped across his face. Fucking asshole. Just before he throws me into the shower he puts on a pair of those trifling plastic gloves that come with cheap hair dye and begins to paint my hair with a bbq basting brush. In my dreamy haze I don't question his actions and enter the small shower. When I exit the shower I slowly walk towards the mirror to find my self totally naked and with orange hair styled in the likeness of a Dragon Ball Z character. That's a wrap.

The other dream involved vehicles a la Madmax and a giant parking lot that looked like it came straight out of a post apocalyptic future setting. For some reason I am following a crack head with a heart of gold trying to locate and/or escape from some unknown pursuers. At one point I am in a broken down old theater that looked like a fallen vestige from a bygone era. There I begin drinking night train from a paper bag with my crackhead friend, surrounded by small children and suburban Mom's. The curtain goes up and the the theater becomes flooded with with those plastic bubbles that the toys from quarter vending machines that used to be in grocery stores and laundry machines would come in. You know, the ones that used to house those sticky hands and shitty plastic jewelry. Boom. I wake up.

The real world threw me for a loop when earlier today one of my students nervously handed me a love letter just before class:

Breaking hearts in The Land of the Morning Calm.

I awkwardly accepted the letter, immediately impressed by the occasion specific stationary and sparkly hearts. The young girl happens to be one of my best students and is absolutely cute as a button. I went along with my lesson, said goodbye to my class, and went back to my office. There I opened it and was shocked, by the intensity of her 7 year old emotions. As an English teacher I was also somewhat shocked by the level of her writing. It was much better than anything I had seen her produce in class. I was then overrun with questions. Where on earth did this little girl get romantic stationary? Surly her parents must have known about the stationary and therefore had a reasonable chance of knowing about this letter. What did they think of there 7 year old daughter writing a love letter to a grown man? What am I supposed to tell this girl when I see her? Geez.

I guess the letter was a day late.

All questions aside I have to say part of me was touched by the letter. It was probably the most heartfelt love letter I have ever received. There was a sense of urgency and intensity that I have seen in few such letters. It was just one of the most sentimental, cute artifacts I have ever seen, and if there is one thing that pulls at my heart stings it's sentimental kid stuff. Gets me every single time.

To complete the dimensional triad of bizarre happenings and to bring things back to the theme of defecation, I have one final story. Earlier today I was reading Dreams From Bunker Hill, an installment of the Arturo Bandini series by one of my favorite authors, John Fante. For those unfamiliar, the story revolves around an Italian writer raised by a deeply catholic family from Colorado who moves to Los Angeles to pursue his dream of becoming a famous writer. The stories are often filled with accounts of Arturo's insatiable lust for young women and his conflicting catholic roots. Tonight, as it so happens, I brought the book to the restroom to keep me company. While there, I ran across a passage where Arturo is in church attempting to pray to God to assist him in finding success as a Hollywood writer, but is unable to focus on his Hail marry as he is constantly interrupted by vivid thoughts of laying his secretary. It was at that moment in the book where I had a strange, nostalgic/religious recollection. I set the book down on the bathroom floor and began to attempt to recite the prayers I would say as a small boy every night before I went to bed. I said them all several times in the exact order I used to as a small boy. I began by recreating a cross across my chest "In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit" and went into a modified children's prayer that my mother taught me. The original goes like this:

No I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the lord my soul to keep,

And if I die before I wake,

I pray the lord my soul to take.

The version my mother taught me was slightly different:

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the lord to God Bless...

And then I went into a long list of family, friends, and other important people to me. Amen

I then moved on to the next prayer, Our Father:

Our Father, who art in heaven,

Hallowed be they name,

Thy Kingdom come,

Thy will be done,

On earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

Amen.

Finally I ended with Hail Mary:

Hail Mary,

full of grace,

The Lord is with thee,

Blessed art though among women,

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary,

mother of God,

Pray for us sinners now,

And until the hour of our death.

Amen.

I then finished it off with my customary cross across the chest and was done with it. Once it was all said and done I realized that I hadn't said those prayers in that sequence in... I honestly couldn't say when the last time I went through that ritual. I think I stopped saying those prayers when I was about 13 or 14 and realized that the prayers really had no divine meaning behind them and that they would not make my hopes or dreams come true. I later became resentful for all the time I had wasted as a child saying those prayers. For a long time I resolved to never say them again. It was a strange feeling to go through with the whole routine again. I felt a little bit foolish for reciting prayers I know to be completely ineffectual and that I have so often ridiculed. Even so, I am a little nostalgic for those youthful evenings when I prayed to God with so much hope and wonder in my heart.

Electric Crucifix Skylines

2009-02-04T05:39:00.000-08:00

One of thousands. These crucifixes line the city skylines.

This is the typical layout of a building in my neighborhood. Mixed use commercial spaces organized without any rhyme or reason, hundreds of neon bulbs advertising everything from car dealerships to nail salons, and always, always God on top looking down on it all.

One of the first images I can remember seeing on the ride home from the Incheon Airport upon my immeidate arrival were crucifixes. Hundreds and hundreds of them, lining what seemed like every single building on the side of the highway.

I had always known that Christianity was a big part of many Koreans lives. The high school I attended was, when I last checked 45% Asian in population, many of those being Korean Americans. One of the common threads among the Korean American population that attended my school was active involvement in one of the many Korean Churches in town. Many of them played in church basketball leagues, volunteered with church groups, and participated in youth events like dances and church camp. I had also done some research into religious demographics before arriving here in Korea. I found that surprisingly, roughly half of the population does not self identify as belonging to any religious group. However, of of the half that does, 60% are Christian (40% being protestant and 20% catholic). Incidently, the next largest religious group are buddhist making up roughly 40 % of the religious population (I'm aware that these two groups add up to 100%, these are rough figures. The remainder of the religious population is miniscule in comparison and is comprised of small sects of confucianism, new asian religions, and Korean Shamanism.). Some other impressive stats are Korea is second only to the bible thumping United States in the number of Christian missionaries they send around the world and Korea also houses, by some accounts, the largest Christian church in the world, at last count in 2007 the Yoido Full Gospel Church had a congregation of 830,000 parishioners.

Last weekend when I went out with one of my pious christian coworkers I questioned her about how young Koreans typically meet one another and begin dating. The first answer she gave me was none to surprising. She told me that it was very common for friends to set each other up on blind dates. Okay, perhaps a little awkward, but really nothing too strange there. What came next didn't so much come as a surprise as it did a strange affirmation of what I had already expected. She told me that many young people meet each other in church groups and social events. Granted, this is coming from a young, relatively uncorrupted church going Korean woman, but still, with a country as pious as Korea, it's not hard to believe that her story is not so uncommon. Her response further peeked my interest. I asked her, "so, how many people go to your church?" Without any hint of self consciousness, she earnestly replied "about 7,000." Holy shit, indeed. She told me that the church services were typically broken up by age groups and other demographics that would likely put people of similar age and status into services together, hence increasing the likelihood of meeting a suitable date. Whoa. Pretty strange to me, but then again I'm not exactly a god fearing child of Christ.

One last note on the aesthetics of these omnipresent electric crucifixes: Why do they have to look so garish and gaudy. They look like they were designed by an 80's coke dealer. I mean there are strip clubs in Gresham with better neon signs than some of these churches. With congregations numbering in the thousands, you'd think some of these churches could shell out for a more timeless, at least less visually offensive sign. Feel free to weigh in.

Hagfish- For Sex or Sustenance?

2009-02-03T05:56:00.000-08:00

There is a plethora of great little restaurants within a five minute walk from my house, like probably literally over 50. There are a gang of Hofs, the Korean equivalent to a bar and all of them serve a ton of tasty treats like delicious soups, savory pancakes, and have a fried food menu so vast it makes you wonder how old Korean men aren't dropping dead in the street at every corner. There are plenty of BBQ joints that always have burning wood coals chilling outside their restaurants. You can often see the waiters carrying in steel bowls of white hot wood with a flat steal bar that looks like a giant slim gym (the kind you use to break into cars not the OOHHHH YEEAAh! "Macho Man" Randy Savage variety). Fresh Tuna restaurants are plentiful and exquisite. For 20k won you can stuff your face with all the raw tuna you can handle and be served side dish after side dish like some sort of royal dignitary. There are also a surprising number of restaurants that specialize in fried chicken. I mean go figure, who would have thought that Yongin would have more fried chicken than Oakland. Then of course you have your small mom and pop style places. They are usually about half the size of a Subway Sandwich in the States and from what I gather you can eat as much as you can handle for around 4k won. Then of course there is the flip side. There are the trifling western restaurants. The most common bastardizations usually come in the form of Italian restaurants. These places are really pretty piss poor. In a country where very, very few of the grocery stores sell cheese and you can't get a decent loaf of bread anywhere, Italian food might be a little lofty a goal to strive towards. Bless them for trying though, god knows I've patronized them out of shear desperation my fair share of times. Then of course there are the mind numbingly strange restaurants.

There is a little restaurant directly around the corner from my house that specializes in Hagfish.

Truly inspired graphic design for a restaurant that specializes in prehistoric meat.

I pass by/smell this tank every day. I think if you look carefully you can see some slime formations.

Now, "what is Hagfish" you may be asking yourself? Well, allow me to answer. Hagfish is a strange creature that is not easily identifiable. It is neither an invertebrate or a vertebrate, a fish or an eel. These slimy creatures, typically about 14 inches in length, have a small skull, but no spine. They are ancient. Like, they have been writhing around in the deep sea abyss' of every ocean floor for over 300 million years, making them one of the oldest living creatures this side of Earth. And they are also fucking gnarly, I mean just thinking about them makes me want to deposit a little half puke in my mouth. They don't even kill like normal beasts. They lurk on the bottom of the ocean and when their prey comes trolling by they try to dig a little hole into their belly's and wiggle their way inside their guts where they proceed to eat their victims from the inside out! They also like digging into dead sea creatures and giving them the old inside out treatment as well. To make matters even more heinous, they're gooey. They secrete a uniquely disgusting slime. In fact, they are one of the slimiest creatures in the universe. Here check it out:

This first video is a nice little intro to the slime/gnarly factor.

This one is a bit more comprehensive and educational, but still, gives me Yukmouth.

Anyhow, if you want to know more about Hagfish, watch that second video above, It really gives a pretty straight forward breakdown of the unique properties of this vile little beast. Perhaps the real reason these things gross me out so much is because of a VBS short I watched just before I left to Korea about Japanese eel porn. The shit kind of blew my mind. It is totally bizarre to me, but not without it's artistic merit, I mean take a look at that still photography.... whoa. But perhaps most of all, I love Diakichi's total nonchalant, unashamed attitude about his porno. Note: This is probably not going to fly at your place of employment. Check it out:

Not necessarily for the faint of heart

Enter the eel

Now perhaps you can understand my hesitation regarding the notion of eating Hagfish. I mean, I know now that the eels in the videos were of course not hagfish, as I believe the viscous slime produced by these creatures would make any sort of man-beast love more or less impossible, but still, they look awfully similar.

Final verdict: Hagfish is for sustenance as sex is logistically improbable. These creatures are much better suited to eat... I guess.

Today A Little Boy Grabbed My Ass and Other Stories

2009-02-01T02:35:00.000-08:00

The old Jjim Jil Bang is beginning to look like a Sunday tradition for me. Wake up at a nice leisurely hour, call the folks, call my homies (if you ever want to rap on the phone leave your number at the Shame Threshold email and I would be MORE than happy to give you a call, it's dirt cheap), then take a nice little trip to paradise. While today's particular trip did not have the same intrigue or excitement as my maiden voyage, it still retained the sublime feeling of relaxation and all the hullabaloo that comes with hundreds of people vibing together. I felt more at ease with the procedures and custom that are inherent in a situation where people are coming together to get naked and take part in ritualistic bathing. Felt like I had the situation on lock. Yet still I felt the stares. The uncomfortable stares and feelings of apprehension that only middle age naked men can exert on strange long haired, bearded, tattooed westerners. I decided that it was best to capture the energy of these stares and in an exercise in mental judo redistribute the scrutiny to assess the average size of the Korean wiener (as seen through the limited lenses of my JJ Bang goggles).

It is my belief that the average occidental holds the perception that asian men have somewhat smaller penises. That has always been my experience in the locker room and what I have believed, due in part to a collective opinion that corroborated my own experiences. But of course when tackling any journalistic/pseudo academic curiosity it is best to clear ones mind of any preconceived notions and engage with an objective attitude. Hear we go. Now naturally, this most recent trip to the bathhouse was not the first time that I have had the unique experience of seeing a large group of racially homogenous men baring it all...I have two other experiences visiting Korean Bathhouses. Previously it was my belief that the Asians were getting a raw deal. Yes I saw some small penises. Very small. But I also witnessed some serious, proud, and large penises. No joke, there was no mistaking these fellas for anything less than big. I felt that in fact, the Korean penis was no larger or smaller than his western counterpart (although they were almost uniformly circumcised).

But with the greater exposure to the Korean penis has come, I believe, a more complete portrait of the Korean penis. Using the only baseline I have available to me, my own penis, which I believe is about average in the west (nothing to brag about, but also nothing to be weary of) I have been consistently measuring my own penis against the many Korean penises surrounding me. It seems, after careful consideration, and adroit assessment that there are more penises on the smaller end of the spectrum that the larger. Don't get me wrong, there were many a large penis. Show stoppers. Big city lights. Picturesque man portraits that would make any son's mother proud. But then there were the rest. Maybe this makes me seem like a racist, westcentric prick, but I call 'em as I see 'em and I stand by my word. Stay tuned for further updates on the Korean penis. This is far from over.

Eventually, I left the sanctuary where naked men roam free and ventured out towards the "spa" where men are joined by their better halves to pursue the single minded objective of achieving complete, perfect relaxation. Things began uneventfully, I soaked my feet, breathed in the toxin free air of the "oxygen room," where I gently laid my head down to experience the beautiful neverland between sleep and consciousness. Onwards to the many hot saunas, until I reached the cool zone, the room which I can best describe as being nothing short of a giant, mild refrigerator. I had previously approached the room several times, but had always been dissuaded by the large number of small children frolicking about. Finally, I reached the point where I didn't care how many geriatric woman or rug rats were filling the room, I need to get cool quick. I enjoyed the room for a modest period of time, maybe ten smooth ones and then ventured out. As I was leaving the room I was shocked to find a small boy in nothing short of lurk mode tailing my ass while his cohorts lagged behind, his eyes affixed on he and I. Suddenly the boy reached out as if possessed. He was in full on zombie stance, eyes askew, head cocked, arms braced straight forwards. What came next was the only conclusion that could. He grabbed my ass. In no uncertain terms he gave me a full on, two handed hand-to-ass lock. Not quite sure what to make of this situation I peered behind him to give him a stern, if not confused glance. This did nothing to deter him. I then moved on to more aggressive defensive maneuvers. I gave him the old spin around only to find him a moment later with a firm, determined look in his eye, arms still forward and hands out. He grabbed me again. Finally we both exited the door like a pair of bizarro, conjoined twins. I gave him a final look of shear bewilderment only to find his face completely absent of shame or shock. There was nothing amiss in this young boys face. I did the only thing that seemed appropriate, I shook my head and let the magnetic force of his friends draw him back to that cold den and we parted ways.

Still reeling by the unforeseen experience of the cool out room I made my way to the men's lockers where I intended to shower and move forward with my day. As I approached my destination I passed the seemingly endless row of massage chairs that I had so wished on my previous visit that I had the paper currency to kick start into mechanical nirvana. As luck would have it, this time I did. I reached into my baggy cotton sweat shorts and pulled out a sweat saturated 1k won bill and proudly drove it into the appropriate slot. Oh what luck. The digital clock above the bill slot unmistakably read 10:00. Ten fucking minutes for the equivalent of 72 US cents. And boy was this achievement in modern technology fit for kings. The throne rammed my back like the pistons of heaven, driving rhythmically into every sector of my back like so many angels hammering me with the love and affection of god. My eyes became unsteady. As they focused on the digital clock across from me the numbers on the display began to dance harmoniously as my head shook and bobbed, to and fro. During the more vigorous and titillating assaults my teeth began to chatter as my body melted into the soft leather of that black chair. I died and was resurrected during that ten minutes. When it was all over I sauntered towards the locker room, got as naked as I could, and showered.

I felt the only appropriate conclusion to this evening so solely dedicated to the art of relaxation was to enjoy my favorite healthy treat: Kal gook Sue (at least this is the phonetic romanized spelling of it). The soup is comprised of hand made noodles and clams served in a broth of undetermined origin... I have the sneaking suspicion that it might be chicken. This particular purveyor of KGS also happens to have the best Kimchi I have ever had the pleasure of dipping in my mouth. So I swooped up my fair maiden and made my way down to the local restaurant and proceeded to stuff my face with this warm, ethereal milk.

I am just beginning to become comfortable with my life here in Korea. It didn't strike me until fairly recently that I had been experiencing something that I naively though I would avoid, culture shock. The Korean culture is significantly different than the culture of the United States with which I have grown up. I wont go into a long winded dissection of the Korean culture and how it seems to differ in almost every way to my previous experiences, but suffice to say, they are at times radically opposed. Anyhow, this stark juxtaposition has left me feeling very nostalgic for my life in the states and dare I say, something which I never expected to utter, homesick. I have missed my few friends in the states very much. I have missed Portland and the East Bay. Places for which I have a strong affinity that borders on kinship. I miss every person that I know is reading this posting and perhaps even some of those that I don't. At any rate, it has been a harder time that I had anticipated. I am pleased to report however, that things are beginning to feel a bit more comfortable. I have taken up a new hobby, which has been a constant source of energy for me; skateboarding. I have been taking full advantage of the almost always empty skatepark right behind my house and have been battling with it every chance I get. I love the sense that every time I go out there and skate I can feel myself becoming better. It is a distinct pleasure to feel and witness progress in any endeavor. I have recommitted myself to physical health. After nearly two years of allowing my athleticism to dwindle I have decided that enough is enough and that It is high time to become as healthy and physically adept as I am accustomed to. But it will be no more gyms or boring routines for me. I am only going to exercise in ways that have always made me feel happy, modalities that take me outside and face to face with the physical world. I am happy to be writing again, even in as casual a forum as this. I feel like I'm getting my mind right. Keep up the paper chase, staying fit, and getting some of this strange world.

Still I look forwards to my return stateside. I can't wait to make some more life changes. I think I'm finally ready to get above four wheels and purchase a car that will take me from portland to the coast. I want to start surfing, go camping, and stay active and adventurous. I miss always being up to something on the physical level, whether it be swimming, biking, or whatever the fuck. I can't wait to be back with my dog and my friends. Anyways, this is getting long enough. Things are getting.

Be Excellent,

Danny

Music Makes Me High

2009-01-31T09:02:00.000-08:00

Today I went to the Samsung Plaza (A gigantic "department store" but what appeared to me to be more of a mall) to scope a bookstore that allegedly sold western magazines. Unfortunately, the store had a pretty sparse and over priced magazine section, but it was however rife with amazing stationary. The crown jewel of the stationary department was the "Music Makes Me High" memo pads.

When I purchased this treasure, I was under the impression that the memos would be in sticky pad form. Little did I know. When I came home and opened the memo's with the fervor of a 5 year old on Christmas morning I found out I was wrong. The memos were in fact small pieces of stationary most closely resembling a business card or some other form of stationary unknown to me. The front (excuse me, "Side A") features an image of an old school black cassette that proudly states "Music Makes Me High."

"Side B) features several ruled lines on the bottom and a blank space on the upper portion.

Personally, I think the best use for these little wonders is going to be as my own less than personal business card. For a while now I have been wanting to commission a small run of business cards that feature only my name. I figured I could use them to give people I meet my contact info and I've always thought that the most minimal of business cards were always the best. Of course I can't really justify the expense as I really don't seem to meet that many people, at least these days, and everyone just seems to put each other's contact info on their cell phone/digi devices anyhow. Regardless, I still like the idea. Back to the point. It is unimportant whether or not I will actually have the opportunity to hand these bad mothers out, I will still dutifully carry them along with my trusty pen, always ready for the chance to open up my cassette case and hand out my own little slice of personalized Korean stationary.

For more from the creators of the "Music Makes Me High" memo pad, please visit www.roller-coaster.co.kr

An Ode to the Trapper Keeper

2009-01-30T06:21:00.000-08:00

Ah, how I miss the Trapper Keeper, Meads solution to all of your back to school needs: It was successfully able to organize all of your school supplies, express your individuality, and make you appear as if you were on the cutting edge of cool. Those patented butterfly folders gave a much needed update to the Pee Chee folder's old school, plaino vertical compartments, you know, the same type of folder technology that your parents used. They made sure your irreplaceable 4th period English Lit homework was safely trapped and kept, that shit was going nowhere.

But what made the Trapper Keeper most memorable was not it's utilitarian specifications, it was the artwork, the shear variety and yet equally amazing designs that adorned this cutting edge binder/folder (excuse me, portfolio) technology. All of the hundreds of individual Trapper Keeper graphics seemed to fit into but a few broad categories. Frankly, I couldn't possibly begin to categorize all these portfolio classifications, I'll leave that to some more qualified scholar. I will however, list a few of my favs. You had your futuristic geometric patterns, the ones with three dimensional shapes floating in a black abyss highlighted by new wave color patterns and lightning bolts. These were always my personal favorites and I sought them out with every anticipated trip to the Wallgreens, K-Mart, or Longs Drugs.

Then you had the fantasy psych girl designs, best typified by the Lisa Frank collection. Lisa Frank single handedly brought to life the collective dreams and fantasies of the average mall going, baby sitter club reading, Tiffany listening cadre of femme petites. She had a whole roster of established characters which adorned her line. There was Rainbow Chaser (the brown horse with the purple hooves), the dapper Hollywood Bear (decked out in a top hat and tuxedo), Max Splash (The Killer Whale who always seemed to be leaping over a beautiful rainbow), Echo the dolphin (duh), Skye (the Pegasus flying high in the Lisa Frank sky), Angel Kitty ( The winged cat with rainbow stripes), and of course Markie (the rainbow clad flagship fantasy animal- unicorn). While I scoffed at such girly shenanigans in my youth I have come to acquire an affinity for these far out color explosions of fantasy psychedelia. It's not hard to see why untold legions female youths proudly waved the Lisa Frank banner.

There were so many amazing Trapper Keeper designs that meant so much to so many people. It's hard not to take a trip through Trapper Keeper memories gone by without feeling a bit nostalgic, without wanting to recapture the excitement and pride of carrying a brand new TP down the halls of your middle school. I have attempted to mimic this sensation by acquiring thrift store Trapper Keepers... and I have been somewhat successful. I am the proud owner a beautiful forest scenario Trapper Keeper, one that I proudly utilized during my first professional meeting at my first professional job. But still, the pride I felt at that first meeting was not the same as the youthful exuberance I experienced walking down those 1992 school hallways. I suppose some things are impossible to recapture, but it doesn't mean that you shouldn't try. I leave you with a few of my favorite Trapper Keepers, ones that would make any child of the 80's proud.

The Latest and Greatest Here at the Shame Threshold!

2009-01-29T05:00:00.000-08:00

One of my Super Friends sent this to me when I told him I missed the old Stars and Bars.

Mustaches, BBQ, Fireworks, Friendship, Bald Eagles, Boners, And American Flags. Good Grief.

In an attempt to connect with more of my state side friends and neighbors I have established a new email address associated with this blog (located in the upper right hand corner and printed in hip pink). I have been apprehensive of putting up my personal/professional email address as I don't want any unintended visitors from my work to happen upon this web page due to any nosey google searches of my email or whatever. Maybe it's a bit of Dateline-esque paranoia, but fuck it, if nothing else it will be another avenue for people to get in touch with me, particularly if you don't already have my email address. So if you have any inklings to get in touch with me over here in the far east, please don't hesitate. Heckling, tips, privy info, or just news from your part of the world- It's all welcome at Shamethreshold@gmail.com. Note: All of the emails will be forwarded to my personal account, so if you already have that address don't feel the need to send emails to this here new fangled one.

I have also added a disclaimer to mitigate any potential legal problems the future may hold. If you have any legal issues or otherwise with the content of this web page, please email me and we'll work it out real cool like.

I have also changed the settings on my comments section so now anyone who wants to leave a comment should be able to. In the past, comments have been limited to other blog authors, but no more, now the masses shall have their say. I really have no way of knowing who views this blog, so unless you leave a comment you will be forever anonymous.

Finally, in an effort to take advantage of the new comment policy here at The Shame Threshold I would like to conduct an informal poll, or guest log if you will. I couldn't figure out how to add a gadget that would act as a guest book so hopefully this posting will:

Who is reading this blog? Please let me know in the comment section along with any feedback you might have. What do you desire more of? Less of? Keep me posted

xoxo

Sic Alps & Ty Segall

2009-01-27T05:28:00.000-08:00

Most people with whom I regularly covort with, or at least used to when I lived in the US, are probably tired of hearing me harp on this band, but for the few people who read this blog who I haven't hipped, here we go: Allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite touring bands, the Sic Alps.

I first heard about these guys about a year ago from Scott over at Exiled Records (If you live in Portland please patronize these guys as much as possible they have THE best collection of psychedelic and lo fi music as well as super selective jazz, garage, international, and experimental music... Shit, fuck putting a title on it, they just have really great music and are always happy to hip you to some reighteous music). He told me that the Sic Alps were a pretty small outfit from SF, a duo comprised of drummer Matt Hartman (Who briefly played with the Coachwhips) and singer/guitar Mike Donovan , that put out a series of small run 7'' and 12'' records. I picked up one of the last copies he had of the "Rough Trade in Soft Form" and was immediately blown away. The two stand out songs on that EP for me were "Speeds" and "Microcastles," A pair of rollicking, unpolished rock anthems that are equal parts noise explosion and boozy garage rock that leave you with the feeling that your ears have just date raped. .

Ed. Note: This is the first time I have attempted to put song downloads/links onto this page... All you're supposed to do is cut and paste the link into your browser and then wait something like 15 seconds. You will then see a prompt to type in some coded letters and you should be able to download the song free and fast. I know it's a bit of a convoluted process, so if you know of a more user friendly way to link up songs, please let me know.

http://www.easy-share.com/1903431884/25 Speeds.m4a
http://www.easy-share.com/1903431896/26 Microcastle.m4a

I immediately set out on the single minded mission of acquiring everything of theirs that I possibly could. Unfortunately, I found that all of their previous EP's were out of print and the few that were available on EBAY were floating at about 80-120 bucks for a 12''. Yahtzee.

Anyhow, lucky for you and I they have since rereleased all of their previous out of print ep's on a cd put out by Animal Disguise Records, which if it is not already sold out (I think they only printed 1000 of them) I'm sure is floating around somewhere on the internet in digital form. This rosetta stone of the Sic Alps discography is titled "A long way around to a Shortcut. Please try to buy it if you can, these guys definitely deserve your money.

Other release on the old CD format include their first full length album "Pleasures and Treasures," Which although is probably my least favorite of their releases, is still a gem in it's own right. The album is incredibly low fi, sounding as if most of it was recorded in a refridgerator at the bottom of crater lake, but still manages to be compelling, stradeling a fine line between noise art cacophany and a beautfiul, albeit damaged tribute to the traditional song format. My three favorites are probably the most traditional tracks on the album: "I Know Where Madness Goes," "Semi-Streets" and "Surgeon and the Slave." All of these songs, despite their unpolished recording quality, will be vying for heavy rotation in the revolving door of your minds ear. I have not included a track of Semi-Streets because you can just dig that in the music video section below.

http://www.easy-share.com/1903432066/03 I Know Where Madness Goes.m4a

http://www.easy-share.com/1903432081/08 Surgeon and the Slave.m4a

The bands most recent release is on one of my favorite record labels, the small press Siltbreeze Records out of Philladelphia, run by bastion of relevant recording artist, Tom Lax (check out his musical musings at www.siltblog.blogspot.com). This record label has put out some of the best records of the last two years by artist such as Eat Skull, U.S. Girls, Little Klaw, Times New Viking, Fabulous Diamonds, Naked on the Vague, Pink Reason....shit, the list goes on. Basically if these guys are putting out a record, an immediate red flag should pop off in your head: Buy this. But I digress. U.S. Ez is without question the most accessible album by the Sic Alps, opting for a more melodic, ethereal, and dare I say soft approach to their songs. I found the album to be a bit pedestrian on my first lesson, but have found it to be a real grower. With every listen I find myself liking the beautiful, understated songs a little more. They seem to resonate more and more, but resist drowning in the inevitable boredom of comfort. It's just absolutely swell, a real swell album.

I'm just going to post one of these gems because I really want you guys to go out and buy this album if you don't already have it. This song is my favorite, but the whole album is a roster filled with winners.

http://www.easy-share.com/1903432190/03 Sing Song Waitress.m4a

Most of these video's are available in high quality... I suggest you watch them that way.

"Massive Place"

US Ez

Siltbreeze Records

2008

Ummm. Bikini clad Babes cutting off a Long Hair's leg with a hack saw in front of an industrial porcelin background... yeah, that's pretty hard to fuck with.

Bells (w/Tremolo and Distortion)

A long Way Around a Short Cut (Originally released on the Description of a Harbor ep, 2007)

Animal Disguise

2008

Many of their video's feature amazing animation/video collage. This is one of the finer examples for sure. Just the best images, patterns, and colors. Whoa.

Semi Streets

Pleasures and Treasures

Animal Disguise Recordings

2006

And the award for both the best use of Maps and Kareoke Lyrics in a music video for the year forever goes to...

Freedom well explained.

A Story Over There

A Long Way to a Short Cut (Originally on Description of a Harbor, 2007)

Animal Disguise Recordings

2008

Sweet Stop Motion Animation

Arthur Machen

A long Way to a Shortcut (Originally on The Soft Tour in Rough Form 12'', 2006)

Animal Disguise Recordings

2008

An absurdist dramatization of the song. Brilliant

This fellow is Ty Segall, formerly of the southern california garage rock outfit Epsilons. While upon cursory examination it seems that I am not a huge fan of his former work with the Epsilons, as they were a bit to power pop/garage for my taste (yet still pretty good), his recent solo work is promising. He just put out a self titled album on Tom Dwyer's (From the Coachwhips and the Oh Sees) record label and is going to be the envy of every garage rock outfit west of the old miss. This guy seems to be poised for Jay Reatard like popularity and it wouldn't surprise me if he is next latest rage among garage affcionados. Don't quite know what his record status is as his myspace page says he is playing the Goner Records showcase, but he seems to be in that same vain. I haven't heard his complete album, but from the tracks I heard of of his myspace page he has plenty of distorted, fucked out garage ditties with infectious tracks that leave their mark. Check him out and let me know what you think.

For you readers lucky enough to live in the fair city of Portland, Ty Segall is set to play to Slabtown Bender. He is slotted to play the daytime show on the 7th although I'm really not quite sure what time that translates to. If you see this guy give me the low down and dirty business.

Here he is playing a rare three person set with the Sic Alps. Dude, certainly seems to be keeping beneficial company.

Ed. Note:

I know this things is rife with typos, I promise to clean it up a bit soon. Also, look for new Shame threshold additions such as an Email account for feedback from those of you who don't have a blogspot account and hopefully more music downloads/mix tapes. xoxo

Sokcho, Sorak San, and Lunar New Years

2009-01-27T00:36:00.000-08:00

This past weekend Rachel and I had the good fortune to celebrate our first Lunar New Years, which is incidently the most widely celebrated holiday in South Korea. We were given both the 26th and 27th off from our job and in addition a nice little holiday bonus from our boss: two free nights at a 4 star hotel in the Sorak Mountains (one of the most revered beauties of the South Korean landscape). Before we left on our vacay, our boss was kind enough to type us up a very useful AND completely hilarious itinerary. I have typed to unedited contents of said itinerary below:

Recommended Itenarary for Sorak MT

Introduction of Sokcho region

Sokcho city is located at the east coast of Korea. Sorak Mt national park is large area which bigger than Sokcho city. Sokcho city is the entrance of Sorak Mt. Sokcho city is famous of fresh fish, Sorak Mt, Several hot spring and Donghea (East sea of Korea).

24th Jan

1. Take a subway to go to Seoul express bus terminal. At least 1hr 30min.

2. Find the gateway to Sokcho. Get your bus ticket at the ticket booth of Sokcho.

3. Your arriving time at Sokcho bus terminal will be 1~2pm 24th Jan.

4. After arriving Sokcho bus terminal, go to Sokcho beach where you can enjoy the view of East sea shore and some coffee or tea at a cafe around there. 1~2 hr

5. Take a bus to Sorak park hotel.

6. Check in.

7. Visit the travel center and have dinner at restaurant around the hotel.

25th Jan.

1. Visit Shingeung temple which is located in Sorak Mt. 1~2hr

2. Ride Sorak gondola(Sorak cable car). 2hr

3. Visit Sorak waterpia. It is a water resort, they have hot spring, wave pool and outdoor bath tub. You need swim suit and water google. At least 3hr,

4. Visit Sokcho city downtown and the fish market.

5. Big dinner at Korean raw fish house. My treat. 7~9pm. Cal me around 6pm and I'll pick you up where you are.

26th Jan

6. Check out

7. Take a bus to Sokcho bus terminal. 30min

8. Back to your sweet home.

Enjoy your trip~

For the most part, we stuck pretty closely to the itinerary that Mr. Y provided and his time tables were pretty accurate, apart from some unforeseen problems due to a heavy snow and traffic delays associated with the holidays. Very pro, Mr. Y, nicely done.

Stock Korean Pose: Ass Out, Fingers Up

Rad Paper Lamps/Light Fixtures From Sorak Park Hotel

The View From The Room

Animal rights photo in our room.

Traditional Korean bed situation

Traditional Korean bedroom

Dude was 14.3 m tall. Completely epic.

Korean Buddhist temple (Shinhueng)

Views from the top of one of the mountains, ascended with the aid of a Gondola.

Don't even think about falling because there are no safety barriers between you and some cliff side tumbling.

Just some bear on bare love

Snowy wheel, duh

The powerhouse behind the gondola's upwards propulsion

Ain't no party like a gangsta party

For maximum punching force, choose black power.

They had another one of these with Ron Artest on the front.

The future site of the Korean counterpart to Alcatraz

Majestic sand dwelling dolphins

Snowy beaches, go figure

If you start drowning, this dude saves you...

More beach majesty

Korean cop sign. Don't get caught.

Uhhh...

2009-01-19T06:10:00.000-08:00

Really, I'm not all that sure how to come down on this one. I like motorcycles and mopeds are all right I suppose, but I've always thought that moped gangs, like the Puddle Cutters were kind of lame... but shit... these guys look like they're having a pretty good time. Still though, probably the dumbest rap I've heard since "Scrapper Bikes," so why the hell do I like it so much?

I guess the take home lesson here is it's not so much what you rep, but how hard your rep it. Whether you like rebuilding vintage hot rods or collecting out of print limited edition Garbage Pail Kids pogs, the important thing is to be passionate, that's appealing enough.

C.R.E.A.M.?

2009-01-18T03:36:00.000-08:00

The plebian 1,000 and illustrious 10,000 won bills

Note: This post was originally going to be in response to Johnny's last comment, but it began to be a little too meandering so I decided to just make it into a post. Whatever, right?

The currency here in Korea is ideally supposed to translate to 1,000 won to 1 US dollar. However, given the current unstable international financial environment 1,000 won is more like 75 cents US. Kind of a bummer given that I'm getting paid in won, but hopefully the currency will stabilize a little bit more before I leave (yeah right...).

The way the currency is structured is any denomination below 1,000 won is in coin form ( there are 10, 50, 100, and 500 won coins, although the 10 won coins are pretty worthless and you can often see them littering the streets). The rest of the currency is distributed in paper bills (1,000, 5,000, and the illustrious 10,000 won bill, affectionately referred to as a "man-won". It seems a little strange to me that a 10,000 won bill is the largest denomination, but I suppose most people don't really use cash. Most people pay with credit/debit cards and it is also becoming very popular for people to pay for items using their cell phones. At most stores and restaurants there is a small kiosk about the size of a debit card reader that you can pass your cell phone across and automatically have the machine deduct money from a prepaid account on your cell phone.

Another somewhat strange form of payment that is very popular has to do with the transportation lines. Instead of paying by cash or even using a pre-paid pass, most people simply use their debit cards to pay their bus or train fairs. Most of the debit cards are equipped with a small magnetic chip that you can pass across a terminal as you enter and exist the train or bus and it will calculate how long you have traveled and deduct from your account accordingly. Pretty cutty.

As far as coke prices go... You can get a can of coke for about 700 won in most vending machines. But they're not like a coke can you would get in the states, they're just a little bit different. They are considerably smaller, only 250 ml, which is about the size of a can of Red Bull. However, they can go for a tad bit less or more depending on where you buy them. At a grocery or corner store they will range in price from 500 to 900 won for the 250 ml. There are also of course bottles, but again, they are a little different. You can get a 1 liter bottle and you can get a three liter bottle, but the 2 liter is noticeably absent from the shelves. Go Figure.

Most people are actually decidedly anti cash. I can feel disapproving glares as I reach in my pocket and pay the cashier with cash. Most people see the time it takes for you to get your cash out and then be handed back your change as an overwhelming inconvenience. Fuck it though, I have gotten in the habit the last couple of years of trying to always have a little bit of cash on me for those special instances when you go somewhere that doesn't have a card reader, has a minimum charge, or for when you go out with friends and have to split bills. It is almost an insufferable annoyance to be hanging out with someone who never has cash and have to constantly bum them money or get into some other strange arrangement. Granted, since I don't have any friends over here and everywhere I go here has card readers, this isn't really an issue, but as the saying goes, "Old habits die hard."

Totally Naked

2009-01-17T04:41:00.000-08:00

As I write this blog I am completely, fully, deadly relaxed. Not only because I am writing this post with my customary glass of Walker Red, but because today I experienced a life changing, amazing facility. It is the Korean bathhouse or natively referred to as the Jjim-Jil Bang. From what I can gather Jjim-Jil roughly translates to Hot stress release and Bang means room. I have always been intrigued by bath houses, they just always have seemed very romantic, free, and relaxing. Unfortunately, In the US the bathhouse culture is pretty sparse. Back in Portland the only bathhouse I have been to is the Common Grounds one off of 28th ave. which is fair to meddling... very small and a not always available affair (It is occasionally coed, but it changes from male only to female only depending on the days, and occasionally hourly). Next to that, the only other time I have been In a dry sauna is in a men's locker room at my college and some fancy health club on the south waterfront. Both experiences were fairly underwelming. The Jjim-Jil Bang blew these out of the water.

First, even locating the facility was a tad of a challenge for me. I know not how to speak, or read Korean and had only heard in fairly confusing terms where the facility was located; the basement of a large complex one block from my house. After attempting to descend to the B1 level of the building from several elevators only to be delivered to the B2 garage and failing to enter by several stair cases, I finally found the appropriate elevator and I was B1 bound.

As I exited the elevator I was greeted by crowds of busily determined people rushing to check in at the front desk. As I patiently waited in line, I wondered to myself, "how am I going to explain to this old lady what services I want, and how the hell is she going to tell me even if she does understand what I'm asking?" Luckily, the lady spoke fairly proficient English and was able to tell me how much it would cost for the bathhouse (7000 won, at last check equated to 5.18 US dollars) and Jjim-Jil Bang facility. After attempting to explain to me where the men's room was, she handed me a receit and a pair of shorts made out of the same material as my middle school gym shorts and a large baggy tee shirt. At this point I still had know idea where the Locker room was located. As I was again asking the woman where exactly the men's locker room was, a stoic man of about 37 silently indicated that he would direct me to the locker room. He ushered me towards a platform where he directed me to take off my shoes by pointing at mine and then taking off his. Okay, so I took off my shoes and followed him into the locker room where we entered a long cooridor of small lockers designed to store our shoes. We placed our shoes in the lockers and then took the corresponding key to an old man at a cashiers stand in the Men's room. He in turn took our recets and shoe keys and gave us each a bracelet with a numbered key attached to it. My new found guide took me to the corridor where our locker was and gestured to me to take off my clothes and follow him to the entrance to the bathhouse. We each grabbed a very small towel, about the size of a hand towel, and entered. After pointing at 4 different bath's he led me to the dry sauna. At this point, very grateful for the help navigating this byzantine process, I bowed my head and said "kamsamnida," or thank you, to him. He was silent and a couple of minutes later pointed at his ears and mouth and then made a large X with his forearms. It was immediately clear to me that he was a deaf mute! I was both shocked and extremely excited. Until this point I had simply assumed that he did not speak English and was attempting to explain how to navigate this new territory to me in the best way he knew how, hand gestures. Shortly after this epiphany he began drawing on his palm. At first I was unsure what he was trying to indicate, but then he moved his palm closer to my face and I could see that he was drawing English letters on his palm. He very slowly began to draw the letters, "U-S-A" and then pointed at me. Totally stoked that we were able to communicate I exhibited a huge smile and shook my head up and down and began to spell out CALIFORNIA (No one here knows where Oregon, let alone Portland is and I did grow up there). He then smiled in return and spelled out, "L-A" and lowered his hand close to the floor explaining to me that he grew up there when he was younger. He then began making a there and back motion and pointed to himself, leading me to believe that he was trying to explain that he currently travels back and fourth from Korea to LA on a regular basis. He showed me around probably 6 or 7 different bath's and we were able to maintain pleasant conversation the whole time. It was so awesome. While there were a few people who would immediately leave the bath when I entered here was a man who couldn't even speak who was showing me such kindness and making a genuine effort to make me feel comfortable. I was so shocked by his generosity and humanity. Most of the time I feel like an alien here unable to communicate even basic ideas to most of the people around me and here was a man who also probably had difficulties communicating with his neighbors sharing and bonding with me. It was incredible. I felt deeply close to this man and totally free to communicate my ideas to him.

Eventually he explained to me that it was time for him to brush his teeth and be on his way. I rotated through the various bath's and eventually made my way back to my locker where I put on my ill fitting P.E. uniform and made my way down the corridor to the Jjim-jil bang. As I entered the door I immediately saw people of every age walking and lying about, all seeming to be enjoying themselves equally. I decided to take a lap around the huge facility to survey the different amenities occupying the area. I was shocked and awed by the huge range of different sauna's and relaxation rooms available. There was a charcoal sauna, a natural salts sauna, Hinoki forrest meditation room, a pure oxygen room, a freezer sauna with icy pipes and fake snowmen, a room with hot soaking tubs for your feet, several other cutty hot sauna's that were infused with herbs and minerals that i can't recall. In short it was amazing. Never before had I seen such a facility soley dedicated to the relaxation and rejuvination. Even more amazing was that this was a place where people from age 4 to age 90 seemed to be equally enjoying themselves in equal quantities. I can't think of anywhere in the US where a similar range of demographics could be seen. With that said however, I only saw one other westerner and one other person with a tattoo among the thousand or more people occupying the facility. And there were definitely stares. Not so much in the naked rich bathhouse, but in the Jjim jil bang with all of the little kids there were many instances of outright staring. At one point in the Oxygen room a young girl of about 5 walked up to me, probably only 2 feet from where I was lying down and stared down at me for about 3 minutes only to later run out and bring her 2 other friends to the room to stare some more. Alas and alack, I thought it was cute and stared back in turn.

Some of the other facilities that I did not entertain were a "cinema room" where apparently there are new release movies shown in the dark, very popular with young couples from what I understand, a nice traditional korean restaurant, another restaurant of lesser quality, a snack bar that serves everything from fine teas to cheep beers, a PC room, and even a kareoke hall. Amazing

I loved the open nakedness, the variety of relaxation, and the novelty. I left totally blown away and refreshed. I only wish we could enjoy this level of relaxation and socialization in America.

Psychedelic Animation Show

2009-01-14T04:40:00.000-08:00

Mind bending claymation from one of the greats, i.e. Bruce Bickford.

Bickford's Coup de grace.

Check out Bickford's "Monster Road" for some insight into the mind of master.

This is not only one of the best animated movies I have ever seen, it is one of the best films. It is an allegorical tale about a band of human like creatures who inhabit a foreign world dominated by telekinetic giants who have relegated the human like species to occupy only the roles of servile domestic pets and valueless pests. It utilizes some of the most aesthetically pleasing animation I have ever seen. It appears as if the animators used brilliant color pencil illustrations to color the world and were only able to move one entity on the screen at a time, giving the film a stilted, puppet like appearance. In additions to it's striking artwork it has one of the all time best soundtracks, an absolutely funked out psychedelic opera that I believe bests Jean-Claude Vanier's own psychedelic opera. In a perfect world this would be required viewing for every middle school student. Amazingly, you can watch the entire film on youtube with striking clarity. If you don't want to watch the entire film after watching the first installment, I would be shocked.

This is Christy Caracas premier film. Shot as a student film at RISD it is a clear indicator of great things to come. This short depicts a cat dressed up as a Mexican bandito being hacked to death by an elephant and a pair of robots ride a unicorn into the heavens while god destroys the earth...Holy shit.

Amazing show about a psychedelic superjail run by none other than David Wain of Stella fame. It's got trannies, drugs, and criminals, a true trifecta of entertainment.

This one is a real gem. It opens with Johnny Russell's "Rednecks, White Socks, and Blue Ribbon Beer," a song that more or less captures the essence of the short. The animation is basically a highlight reel of everything that my adolescent spirit romanticizes about America: shitty domestic brew, dive bars, sweet shitkickers, country music, punk, gutter motorcyclist, and brawling. It really has it all, amazing fashion (check out the cut off leather jackets, red pants clad greaser, drunk cowboy with the mustache and pulled down hair, righteous soul brother with the afro, I mean fuck, everyone is styling), bitchin music, and an animation style who's complexity rivals a Where's Waldo Book. It's a fucking psychedelic cartoon about a dive bar for shitkickers and wastoids... with brawling. Love it.

Kids Incorporated

2009-01-13T04:29:00.000-08:00

Once I departed from the great Northwest, Rachel and I made our way southwards towards my home town of Alameda where I reunited with those I love and those I miss. Perhaps the single best happening while in the Bay was linking with two of my super homies, Jack and Karl, and making the trek to one of my favorite places on our humble earth: Big Sur. We spent 5 days there warping our minds with everything under the sun, relaxing on the beach, exploring the woods, and generally just enjoying each other's company. We dubbed the journey "The Too Took Tour 2008." Here is some photographic evidence of our exploits.

SURPRISE!

Uhh, before we get into Big Sur... Karl took Rachel and I to the newly renovated San Francisco Academy of Science. As Karl said, "they got ride of all the busted shit, and kept only the best." He was totally correct. This Albino gator is at least as old as I am, I can vividly remember clocking it when I was like 6 years old from the banister at the old AOS. Shit seemed like it was 100' high, but when I went back when I was older It was only like 20 feet up. Go figure. Anyway, the gator has new digs which are a definite step up for my viewing pleasure and his lurking powers. Some of the new additions include a legit amazon rainforest exhibit with wild birds flying all over the fucking place. It's seriously like 4 stories high. The new aquarium is also pretty real.

My favorite psychedelic sea creatures

Dioramas of the African Savannah rule

Ah, here we are. Big Sur. Jack just stoking the flames

Sometimes I do this when I'm happy

Two beasts shocked by natures beauty.

Karl's Fan page

2009-01-12T04:15:00.000-08:00

Some years ago I began following my friend Johnny's blog, originally known as rick-victor and currently known as www.50backflips.blogspot.com. As far as I'm concerned he invented the fan page for the common, or should I say uncommon homeboy. As an homage to Johnny and a tribute to my super friend Karl I create the first Shamethreshold fan page.

One of Karl's many Glamour Shotz

Confusing beasts of every persuasion with his animal magnetism

Just shredding in his drawers... No big deal

The Contents of Karl's purse

Live free or die.

Transmissions From the Far East

2009-01-08T05:08:00.000-08:00

This post is dedicated to Traeger and Karl. Brothers after my own heart.

A food situation.

Korean rap time.

Working hard or hardly working?

YO! DTV RAPS!!

2009-01-07T05:43:00.000-08:00

Hands down my favorite Horror Rap star.

Who got my back fade?

Fuck rapping about how much money you have, how about how crazy you is.

Plaid, Mustaches, and Cannibalism. Whoa

Oakland Rap at it's finest.

MacArthur, Lake Merrit, and BIG ass gold chains

Life IS too short

Settin' it straight in '88.

<

Lo-Fi laid back chief anthem.

Drank Dank Danny

Find a cut and zerk in the shade

Air Brushed baller caps, two tone vettes, Candy Coated on Dayton's

Rappin 4 tay looks like my old neighbor on commercial

Homies should be tighter than a glove

It's like the last supper but with three piece suits and afro sheen

I got a pit named lima, she nigarino

How can you fuck with that court scene. Acquitted.

From the 1994 hit album Niggamortis

Rosemary's Baby meets RZA

Rap's death metal counterpart

Check that girl's fit at the intro. Whoa.

This music video is basically the dramatization of the song and for that...I love it.

Rapper's really knew how to put a fit together back in the early 90's

It's not booze, it's potion.

I'm no gangsta, so not using my AK is not grounds for a good day, but drunk as hell with no throwing up. Yeah, I can dig.

They played this song at every school dance I went to from 6th grade to the 12th. Crucial.

Fly girls and nude colored strapless dresses, that would be sex appeal.

The Bay has the best synonyms for being fucked up: Keyed, Perved, Took. Case Closed

Rapping about shitty cars like cutlass's, Buick's and Oldsmobile's is awesome.

Hyphy before Hyphy new what was Hyphy

Inspiring drunk dancing for a generation.

The ODB/Harmony Korine Connection... And Why I Love Them

2009-01-07T03:34:00.000-08:00

If you haven't been rip roaring drunk and feeling this song I feel sorry for you.

Old Dirty Bastard DID make America great. If you can't find love for ODB, I don't want to be your friend.

Heros

Keep it real

These videos never fail to lift my mood and renew my faith in humanity.

I will always have a special place in my heart for the Old Dirty Bastard and Harmony Korine. The pair are absolutely unfuckwithable. They are absolutely true blue, unpretentious, original Americans. They do not give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks of them. They feel comfortable enough with themselves to not have to pretend to be anyone else, even if who they are is offensive, loud, brash, confusing, and bombastic- at least they are truth. Whenever I see this dynamic duo, it makes me wish, it makes me want to be more like myself and less like what people think is acceptable, appropriate, or polite. The truth is heavy and not everyone is ready for it. Most people aren't even ready to tell the truth to themselves. I just want to have enough guts to tell the truth to myself and to everyone else. ODB and H. Korine are apostles of the truth. Even if I can't always get down with what they are saying, I respect, no I LOVE that they are telling it how they think it is, damn what anyone else has to say. They are a couple of my role models.

We interrupt...

2009-01-05T03:35:00.000-08:00

We interrupt our scheduled broadcast of "Korean Psych Rock Week" to bring you...CHARLES MANSON!

I recently stumbled across the rarely mentioned Charles Manson album, (dare I say masterpiece?) Lie. While many, I'm sure were already well aware of the cult leader's musical talents, this discovery was somewhat of a surprise to me. Comprised of 14 short, poetic songs, about cultural/cosmic despair and distrust, the album is deeply routed in the folk hippie movement of the late 1960's. I think it is fair to categorize the album in what Gram Parson's referred to as "Cosmic American Music" that is, music that depicts the outsider, freedom loving hero's vision of America as it was intended to be (a land of free thinking rebels, antiheros, and lovers). Naturally, I am not alone in my admiration for Manson's musical talents, both Neil Young and Dennis Wilson (of whom you should check out his new reissue, Pacific Ocean Blues) were active supporters of Charlie's brand of psychedelic folk tunes. For me the real stand outs on the album are "Look at Your Girl," "Ego," "Home is Where You're Happy," "Arkansas," "Garbage Dump," "Big Iron Door," and my personal favorite "Sick City." His music seems to explore themes of disallusionment and skepticism of follow-follow-the-leader society, distrust of government, loneliness, diffidence, and the freedom that poverty, or at the very least, a break from mainstream capitalist culture can provide.

Manson's music on Lie is very charasmatic, idealistic, and thought provoking. Coupled with his good looks (despite what most photos would have you believe) it hardly seems surprising that Manson would become one of the most infamous and intoxicating cult leaders of the last century.

In accordance with today's theme of artistically inclined cult leaders, Guess today's mystery artist!

I hope that wasn't too heavy handed a hint.

Shin Jung Hyun & Yup Yuns Instrumental Best

2009-01-01T01:18:00.001-08:00

Shin and the Men

The left side was the original lp cover (JLS-120984)

Dig the Artwork

This is definitely one of the stronger SJH albums I have come across. Comprised of 10 tracks at 45 minutes, there is nary a loser among the bunch. This album has some of the best psychedelic flute solo's and accompaniments I have ever come across. There is a strong funk influence on the record, with lots of riding the hi hats and wah wah guitar rifs. The album seems like it could be the soundtrack to the unmade Korean version of Shaft. Super moody, genre, psychedelic fair. An absolute must have. Perfect for cheifing, vibing, and strolling back to the 70's.

Shin Jung Hyun & Yup Yuns Vol.2

2008-12-29T23:51:00.001-08:00

First off, sorry folks. I don't have a scanner or really any other tech shit like that so I had to take these with the trife macro setting on my digital point & shoot. The quality suffers, true.

This one is a pretty short little number clocking in at about 28 minutes with 8 tracks. Most of the album is truthfully pretty pedestrian. The songs are sub par psychedelic folk tunes with repetitive licks. The real significance of this album is that it includes the earliest recording I could find (granted this is not a definitive statement on the progression of this song) of Shin Jung Hyun's masterpiece "Beautiful Country" or sometimes referred to as "Beautiful Korea." The song itself has an interesting history. The song was a response to President Park Chung Hee's request that the S. Korean rock legend write a song praising the president's grandeur. SJH flatly refused and instead wrote a song praising his country. The song is pretty epic. The version on this album is one of the shorter ones I have come across, clocking in at 7:56. Most versions of the song seem to hover around 8-10 minutes long. While the version on Vol. 2 is probably my least favorite and most straight forward, it is still an amazing accomplishment and it is no wonder SJH continued to rework and revisit this song throughout his career. The song is punctuated by long, groovy psychout guitar solo's, beautiful vocals, and a wonderfully circular song structure. The song conjures images of Korean hippies spinning around atop a beautiful pastoral hillside until they fall down only to stay on the ground and stare at shape shifting clouds. Totally Epic. Totally Rad.

Shin Jung Hyun & Yup Yuns Vol. 1

2008-12-29T01:26:00.000-08:00

This record occupies the space between straight funk, psychedelic beat, and guitar shreddery. This is the earliest record I have from the "Godfather" and is a serious departure from his early work with the Add 4 during the 1960's. The record, which was originally released on Jigu records in 1974 (JLS-120984) is a solid affair, clearing showing SJH's progression from surf rock & roll to funk inspired psychedelia. The record exhibits solid funk baselines in most of it's songs and really feels inspired by American 70's funk (Think Curtis Mayfield's, Sly and the Family Stone, and a less dramatic Isaac Hayes). The song lengths have moved from an average of 2.5 minute ditties in the Add 4 to about a minute longer, with that added time being spent less on catchy choruses and more on funked out instrumental solos (mainly drums and bass). In the pantheon of the "Godfather's" career it would seem that this album is a worthwhile exploration into funk music, showing hints (the last song, easily the longest at just shy of 7 minutes is an unexpected journey through a free jazz/psychrock landscape) into the impending psychedelic boom that would characterize most of SJH's career. A worthwhile addition to collector's of asian psych rock and world funk. I give it a solid B, very listenable, while still managing to be interesting.

Korean Psych Rock Week!

2008-12-28T01:15:00.000-08:00

Congratulations loyal readers of the Shame Threshold! It is time for none other than the kick off of Korean Pysch Rock Week! This week I will review several Korean Psych Rock records that I have recently purchased and attempt to give a brief glimpse into the hero's and history of this overlooked musical sub-genre.

This video features the "Godfather" and matron saint of Korean Psychedelic Rock, Shin Jung Hyun and his fellow country woman Kim Jung Mi. Both of which will be major focuses of KOREAN PSYCH ROCK WEEK. At 7 seconds you can see the artwork and hear the sounds behind today's reviewed album.

Where better to start than with the "godfather's" first major album from his first major band. The band-The Add4. The Album- The Add 4' First Album (or sometimes referred to as The Woman in Rain-The Add 4' First Album). The record, which was released in 1963 or 64 depending on where you get your information is very similar in sound to American Surf and Beat music from that era. The Add 4 enlisted the instrumental sound of bands like say, The Ventures, The Surfari's, the Trashmen, and Dick Dale and the Deltones, but managed to lay down some swinging vocals and very catchy (despite my not being able to understand them) vocals. In fact, as I write this review it is occurring to me that this album is not so much psych rock as it is proto-psych rock, in this case manifested as Surf Rock. For fans of the aforementioned bands, Link Wray and the Wraymen, the Chantays, and early Duane Eddy I would highly recommend this album.

The album manages to stray away from strictly fitting into the surf rock genre, thus avoiding being labeled as a simple, derivative record. The album incorporates both violin and flute(which would be a major instrument in later Shin Jung Hyun manifestations) as well as organ tunes into it's repatoire. As far as song length goes, the album really runs the gamut, with catchy 2 minute surf ditties to 12 and half minute long psychedelic surf odysseys (This particular song adding the only accompaniment by a female vocalist on the album). The album straddles the distance between traditional surf music and regional psych/beat music (think Cambodian Psychout! or Cambodia Rocks). A must have for fans of surf, asian beat, and proto psych rock.

Tomorrow look forward to a review of Shin Jung Hyun's 1974 Volume 1. record.

If anyone knows how to post music or music downloads onto their blog, please let me know so that I can post some samples of this music on the old blog.

Hongdae Nights

2008-12-21T04:04:00.000-08:00

This Saturday I decided to make the long overdue trip to Hongdae, one of the "hipper"parts of Seoul. The term Hongdae is actually a conflation of the University's full name, Hongik Daehakgyo. The district is located on the Hongik University subway stop on the green line or "outer circle" as it is affectionately called (why it is called the outer circle I'm not sure, as the line makes a concentric circle directly around the middle of downtown). The University has comprehensive course offerings in a number of varied disciplines, but is best known for it's Fine Arts program, universally regarded as the best in Korea. The neighborhood certainly reflects the universities commitment to high aesthetic and cultural standards. It is teeming with amazing little boutiques, often only about the size of a small bedroom, but always packed with wonderful garments. There are also an innumerable amount of small restaurants, bars, and coffee shops which exhibit promise. The area is also known for it's clubs, which typically occupy multiple floors and are jammed into every building in the area. It was also in Hongdae that I had my first successful encounter shopping for music in Korea. I stopped into Purple Record to scavenge for Korea's psychadelic rock treasures.

The dude working the record store was most helpful and assisted me in locating some fine, fine psychadelic albums. I will offer a full review of my purchased items in the next blog entry, but first allow me to discuss some of the store's unique color. The store was being run by a man in his 40's with thick, short black hair combed to the side. He was initially very quiet and did not pay much attention to me upon arriving. After a quick, cursory examination of the store, I got down to brass tax and asked homeboy where the good shit was. This of course took some negotiating of the cultural divide. I initially began by asking the clerk for experimental, progressive, and even specified 60s-70s psych rock. No such luck. I then resorted to pulling out my ipod and showing him a couple of the Korean psych albums I already had, mostly Shin Jung Hyun and the Men stuff and then reaffirmed "psyhadelic rock." This put a gleam, a twinkle into his eye and he proudly exclaimed, "ohhhhhh shykadeleek rock!" Pay dirt. He started pulling albums out left and right, probably about 9 right off the bat. Most of the stuff was of course by Korea's patron saint of Psych, the aforementioned Shin Jung Hyun and The Men (or as they are domestically referred to as, Shin Jung Hyun & Yup Juns), but there were also a couple of other bands, all in Korean of course, so I can't give you their english names...yet. Some of the stuff that the guy suggested looked pretty rad, I would have bought all of it, but my newly established debit card wasn't working, so I just bought 5 albums in cash. Speaking of which, the albums were all priced to sell. I bought one for 4800 won, about 4 bucks and the rest for 7800, about 6.90 US. Fucking radical. Anyway, I digress.

One of the albums that I passed on, but will surely purchase on my next visit was suggested in a rather humorous and byzantine manner by the clerk. He picked up the album and said, "very good psychadelic rock (read with above pronunciation), from 70's movie." Always curious I said,"Oh very cool, what movie is it from?" The clerk hesitated as if carefully choosing his words, "Uhh, sexy movie, like porn." Uh, Hmmm, "You mean a porno?" Quick to correct me the clerk jumped in without hesitation, "uhh no... like porno." And then he paused and waved his hands up and down as if weighing to see which were heavier, "mmmm, more...Semi Porno." Of course... a psychadelic soundtrack from a semi porno from the 1970's...Totally far out. Rest assured, there will be a review for that one in the near future.

As I was leaving I noticed that there were several records from bands who were from Portland that were faced to direct the attention of perusing customers. One of these bands was my friend Dan's previous band. I quickly picked up the record and said, "My friend is in this band, they are from Portland, Oregon in the United States. That is also where I am from." The clerk again became very excited and I said, "yeah, his name is Dan ******." the Clerk became very intrigued and proclaimed, "Ahhhhh, Dan ******!!" Not quite knowing what to make of this I simply said, "Yeah, thank you very much for your help." and left.

Overall my experience at Purple Record was great, the clerk was friendly, knowledgeable, and humored my english. I will definitely be going back to check out more albums. I mean scope the bag, they carry all of the latest trends in music...Indie, folk, post rock, and.....black? I'm not sure what this was a reference to. Black Metal? Maybe. Black people music....maybe? Not really sure what to make of that one.

After I left Purple Record I strolled a bit more and headed into an art supply store. The place was pretty run of the mill, a nice supply store for college students. Pretty forgettable until I checked out and paid my bill. I bought all this great shit for the equivalent of about 17$. Not too bad.

Later that evening I headed down one of the many back alley roads to check out some more of the hood. Whereas an alley in the US is typically lined with trash, peeling paint, and shit, this alley was lined with cute coffee shops and very fashionable boutiques. The sign on one of these read, "Vintage Japanese Fashion." How could I resist? The store was only about the size of a small bedroom, probably 7x7 meters, tops, and that includes backstock. Having said that, it was still crammed with awesome shit. I would have purchased one of these, but my pesky debit card was on the fritz:
Which color do you like? I thought I liked the black the best, but now I'm having second thoughts and veering towards maroon. Maybe the debit card fiasco was and excuse for prudent consideration. Where do you guys fall on the issue?

Enough with my indecision, here is the website for the store in case you guys want to check out more of their awesome shit: www.remixshop.co.kr

Google also offers the free service of translating web sites in foreign languages into english. Check it out under "more services" and "translate a web page."

The final shop I ventured into had a beautiful fixed gear bike in the window, it was the first I had seen while in the country. There were two obviously fashionable men in the store, which seemed to cater to the "street" culture. The fashion was probably most akin to something you would find at the B-complex in Old Town... expensive designer t-shirts, baseball caps... basically graffiti couture shit. Check them out at www.iknoz.co.kr The guys were super friendly and spoke really good and relevant english. I think one of the guys was the first person who spoke in a more colloquial manner using terms like "man" and "dude." Anyhow, I came in to see if they knew anything about fixed gear biking in Seoul and if there was any type of scene there. Apparently there is. There is a shop in town that manufactures frames and a few components called LSD (www.LSDbikes.com). The store owner mentioned that he knew the guy who owned the company and that I should send them an email mentioning that I knew him and hook up with them. Anyhow, the guys were really nice and gave me their info and told me to email or call them if I had any questions about anything. Will do. I told them about the macaframa guys in SF and we parted ways. Here is a video that they are shooting for Uniqulo:

The rest of the evening I simply spent wandering around the streets and taking pictures of graffiti and weird stores. Here are some of my favs:

This Dude, NANA was everywhere, even the girls bathroom I mistakenly went into:

Here are some other assorted people I thought had some cool art:

I can see some similarities to Paladino's fine art in this one.

This next one is a little gnarly. I heard there were still some Koreans who are upset and resentful about the Japanese atrocities committed against their people. I can understand that, but seeing it spray painted on a wall is still pretty disconcerting.

And I leave you with a couple of my favorite stores Hongdae has to offer:

The Good People at Fringe Vintage

2008-12-18T05:45:00.001-08:00

Dear Portland readers,

You are in a position to benefit from some of the finest stylings your fair city has to offer at regularly discounted and always affordable prices. The good people at fringe vintage are currently holding a weekly event on friday evenings, which includes free PBR's and primo access to hot sale items. As if that wasn't enough, they currently have a bitchin holiday promotion, offering gift certificates of varying denominations as a reward for spending your hard earned dollars in their fine store. They are open until 9pm on fridays, so be sure to check it out. It was one of my favorite stores in Portland, one where the friendly owner always made me feel welcome and I never left without a gem.

They are located in close proximity to Slabtown for a convenient after shopping drink. Their physical address is the corner of NW 17th ave. & NW Marshall. Check them online at www.fringevintagepdx.blogspot.com

In other news My friend Michael T. is opening a new bar in N. Portland. The bar is to be called the Red Fox and will be located next to the Cherry Sprout produce store in the former location of the Albina Green. The bar will be located one block north of Alberta on Albina. Michael T. is a fantastic dude, and a veteran bar tender who knows his shit. I hope all of you guys will loyally patronize his new establishment. You can rest assured your money will be going to great guy.

Rokes, as in Kareoke

2008-12-18T05:02:00.000-08:00

To celebrate Rachel's birthday, we decided the only appropriate things to do would be to go to the only restaurant that mattered, get took, and Roke out.

What is more appropriate for a birthday than a good old fashioned thizz face?

Big suburban light in the hood.

VIPS is I assume the bastardization of V.I.P.s which I'm sure most western people would interpret to mean Very Important Person(s). Out here in the wild, wild east VIPS is interpreted as a classy western style restaurant suitable for the burgeoning Oenophile and prounounced "Veeps", ya heard.

The go to spot for all of your boozing needs

Pre Kareoke Stoke in full effect

There was a mural of beautiful flowers in our rokes room.

Here Rachel utilizes them for full dramatic effect. I think this helped her with the judges who gave her a 95% on this tune. Asah!

There was a lot of fist pumping and jumping on furniture...even though there were only two of us.

After a rousing session of balladeering and rock and roll antics Rachel and I stumbled home.

Bleery eyed in the too took 2008.

Designated thrashing Area

2008-12-15T05:14:00.001-08:00

Here are some pictures from the designated thrashing area nearest my humble apartment. The area is fully stocked with a 6' half pipe, 6' foot quarter pipe, fun box, various grinding rails, and some other shit I'm not entirely qualified to identify. ON TOP of all that, there is a major league outdoor rock climbing gym about 50 meters from the skate park. Apparently, the whole area is collectively known as the X-Park...as in extreme I suppose. The park is never packed, and honestly is rarely host to more than a couple of 7 year old rollerbladers who have a hard time making it up the transition. I have only seen one skateboarder there since frequenting the park. He was an early 30 something dude who looked like he was fitting in some quick shredding on his coffee break from LG before his power lunch...dude did kind of rip though, so gotta give him some credit for that. Apparently the reason you only see 7 year olds or parental rippers is no one between 10 and 23 has any time to fit in some leisurely skateboarding in between their torturous schedule of studying. Korean teenagers go to school from 8 till 6pm and then usually study until around midnight. Bummer.

WHOA!! The twin towers of Ripping. Hopefully not R.I.P.

Get some!

Don't underestimate the importance of lacing up your blades.

What lurks in the shadows of the Yongin X-Park?

Just LG's finest shredder.

I don't think I could have been any more surprised if I had seen Bulwinkle the moose cavorting with those pesky Russians in trench coats. I mean a totally free, totally empty rock gym...and outdoors. This type of thing could never happen in America. I guess the lawyers really have won.

Top roping options fully included. Oh, what's that? You want to do some sport routes? Well bust out your quickdraws, they have that shit too.

I have NEVER seen anyone utilize this. BUMMER. Maybe when it warms up. We'll see

Korean Graffiti is the tames shit I have ever seen. I don't think I have seen nary a swear word or derogatory phrase on even a bathroom stall. It's weird going to a public restroom and not hearing about how Todd loves to suck toddler cock or how Brenda is a dirty cunt. It's just not the Korean way I suppose. This here fella, death note was the rudest dude of the bunch. Yeah, dude, everyone dies, thanks for the heads up.

Free advertising

The scariest shit this side of Yongin. FIRE!!! look out!

The definition crew says you suck

BKF has nothing on Korea.

Time Travel

2008-12-09T05:44:00.000-08:00

Since most of you, the readers of this here blog, are located on the west coast of the old stars and bars it means that I'm breaking news from the not so distant future. I am bringing news of tomorrow to you today. So, for a simple change of pace I have decided to break you some news/pictures from the distant past. A time when it was unquestionably cool to wear acid washed jeans with elastic ankle bands, a time when the side pony tale ruled supreme and hypercolor shirts gave you serious playground status. The time were 1988-1992...

Here I am chilling in the Redwood tree on the SF side of the Goldengate bridge circa 1990.

I have no recollection of taking this photo, nor do I have any idea where it was taken. Maybe my house? At any rate my Ma and I are still killing it in the 80's color palette. Photo stamped 1988.

This is one of my personal favorites. It was taken at the Alameda Navel Air Station in 1992, the year my dad came back from the first Gulf War. I was so pumped to see him again, I think he was gone for just about a year. My mom and I came fitted fully repping the US. I had my "God Bless America" tee on and accessorized with the matching hand flag, hot pink "Maui Surf" cap, and white sneaks (probably from K-mart, wishing they were Nike's).

Itaewon

2008-12-08T05:01:00.001-08:00

This weekend Rachel and I finally made the big trip to Seoul. After about a 10 minute walk in the 20 degree weather we made it to the Bojeong train station armed with only our wits and itouch subway maps. After some initial confusion we figured out the correct way of putting our money into the ticket machines (It happens to be old man on the bottom left side of the bill way. See below).
We operated on a strict policy of lurk and observe...and then simply repeat observed actions. It was a policy that proved to be successful if not a little bit time consuming.

Our desired location was Itaewon, a district in central Seoul widely known as the foreigner district and marked by a huge US military presence. The Yongsan Garrison, one of the largest US military contingancies is located near by, which explains the huge volume of US troops in the district. Other notable minorities in the area include Turkish immigrants, African immigrants, english teachers from Canada, the US, and England, and a small, but noticeable population of gay men (VERY rare in Korea, or so I'm told). Each group sticks out pretty visibly. The GI's seem to have really short crew cuts and are gigantic, at least by comparison to everyone else in the area. The Turkish and African immigrants seem to stick pretty tightly to one another and are rather flamboyent in their attire (think urban pimp and ghetto king for many of the Africans and tucked in professional who reads GQ for the Turks.) The english teachers are pretty obnoxious and can't seem to stop talking about their jobs. They also look the frumpiest of the bunch. Apparently, there have been many an incident of GI provoked violence in the area and as a result the MP's work in conjunction with the local police, of which I saw none, to enforce a 3am curfew for military personnel and genearlly keep the peace.

The streets were a veritable knockoff bazar. Think Canal street only with less, but better gear. I cannot tell you how many knock off designer scarves, blankets, gloves, underwear, socks, and your usual selection of fakery I saw. I will say however, that the quality seemed better than I had seen in American knockoff markets and the prices were better as well (a designer scarf could be haggled down to between 10k and 13k won, which is approximately $6.75-9 ). I purchased a pair of black Rayban wayfarers and passed on a fucking sweet Native American T-shirt for 10k won...kind of regretting it. Rachel bought a pair of rad pearl essence wayfarers and a Dior scarf. In addition there were a number of boutiques from western companies, although they were mostly sneaker companies (Reebok, Nike, Puma, New Balance, etc.).

Since we were in the foreign Dong, we decided to get a good old foreign meal. We passed by a Mexican restaurant and all bets were off. Despite expecting nothing grander than a trife burrito or possibly a passable quesadilla we were besides ourselves with curiosity and hope. The owner of the establishment a bleach blonde (sort of) white dude from the north bay instantly pegged Rachel and I for mexican americans and began chatting us up. Dude's name was Wayne and he sure liked to chop. Eventually, the conversation got around to the quality of the food. When asked how I thought it stacked up, I sort of stuttered and began to ponder how to tell the dude it tasted somewhere between cafeteria quality and what you might expect from a low end taqueria on 82nd ave. Before I could let dude know what I really thought, Rachel had the good grace/heart to tell Wayne how wonderful it was...God bless her soul.

Later in the day we happened upon a wonderfully 80's inspired snowboard store. Unfortunately, it was all closed up for the day, but as we were later to find out, it was for good cause.

When we walked down the street a little further we wondered upon a full on snowboarding demo complete with totally psyched Korean announcer (Think tragically cliche'd snowboarding attire with the voice of a strip club DJ...only in Korean). There were probably about 20 different snowboarders thrashing the 50 foot mountain. Most the snowboarders seemed pretty pysched on the rail situation. I was personally hoping for some dangerous airs off the little kicker ramp.

As we were leaving the demo a flamboyently dressed young Korean man approached me and asked to take a couple of pictures of me. I was shocked and a little bit wierded out, but obliged anyhow. Why not right? He pulled me aside, and low and behold, he had pro photographer with him snapping pictures with a serious looking DSLR. He shot probably around 8 photos in a couple of different poses, focusing on the knees to the shoes, knees to the chest, waist to top, and a couple full on shots. After he was done I asked dude what the pictures were for. He gave me his card and told me he worked for the Korean edition of Arena magazine, a British fashion magazine in the vain of GQ or something. The kind of mag that "hip" or trendy professionals who probably make twice as much money as I ever will like to flip through. At any rate the dude told me he was the editor and that it might be in the next issue's "street style" section. Cool. On the way home I checked out the magazine at a periodicals store in the subway station and scoped the street style section. It seems that it is just pictures of foreign dudes wearing the latest wears. I doubt anything will come of it, but it was at least a novel experience.

Next up on our Seoul tour de force are trips to Hongdae, Apgujeong, and Shindon. Stay tuned

Ginseng update

2008-12-04T04:58:00.002-08:00

Right on cue, I ran into good old Mr. Y in the copy room today. After our usual exchange of pleasantries and communication blunders I quickly took the opportunity to gather more info on Korean Ginseng. Since my last post I have been giving some serious consideration to going on some sort of legit ginseng regime- I mean shit, I'm here in Korea why not, right? Any indigenous novelty is well worth exploring at this point and any added health or sexy benefits couldn't hurt either. My first question was about dosage. More specifically, how much of that bottle should I take in order to see some real benefits. The answer: the whole fucking bottle! What I was given was in fact, an exercise in regifting. The boss had been given a giant box of those bottles by an associate of his and was generously passing, or perhaps less generously dumping what he perceived as a bogus gift. I further pressed him, "What about the root? Do I eat that too?" Here apparently their are competing perspectives. Some argue that yes, the root should be eaten to maximize the medicinal effects of the elixir, while others suggest that there is no added benefit to eating the root. Where does the boss lie on this divisive issue you might ask. When pressed on the issue he emphatically waved his hands at mid chest like some fledgling chick attempting to take his first flight and exclaimed, "NO, NO!" There you have it folks. I on the other hand am obliged to at least attempt to eat the salutary root at which point I will decide which camp to align with, Mr. Y's or the more adventurous/foolhardy root eating contingent.

In other news Rachel and I took to some wandering around the neighborhood this evening in search of adventure, comforts, and food. I would like to think we were successful on all accounts. Some highlights from the venture included the discovery of a Dunkin' Donuts up the street (granted not a huge discovery since it would seem they are everywhere here, I've seen like 3 so far just on my 15 minute bus ride to work. Still I fucking LOVE those donuts and blew the clerks mind with my emphatic perusing of the donuts and light footed victory dance at the conclusion of our transaction.) and the discovery of yet another cheap, excellent, and hearty Korean restaurant. Rachel and I ordered an awesome savory seafood pancake (complete with little shrimp, green onions, and squid), some surprisingly good ramen, and a delicious soup (spicy in character, emboldened with boiled tofu). Stay tuned. The future holds a weekend trip to Seoul and hopefully a trip to the bathhouse.

Sexy gift

2008-12-02T04:36:00.000-08:00

During my prep period today I was overcome by yet another oddity of Korean culture, or perhaps to be fair, maybe it was simply my odd boss. As I was minding my business, being hypnotized by the repeating green glare of the copy machine, I was awakened from my soporific daze. My boss presented me with a clear glass bottle containing a medicinal looking solution and large, uncultivated root. He exclaimed, "you know ginseng?" I earnestly replied, "Uh yes...Thank You." After the initial confusion faded, I had a brief realization. I thought to myself, "shit, I've heard ginseng is supposed to help with about a billion different ailments, and give you all number of added energies. What the hell is this stuff really supposed to be for?" Before my boss could wander away I asked him what ginseng was REALLY supposed to be for. Mr. Y took a brief moment to gather his words and with a knowing yet reticent glance slowly declared, "It is good for... a man." And with that he casually walked away, leaving me with only my thoughts.

After a brief internet inquiry, I found that Korean Ginseng is some of the best in the world. In fact it's high quality and potency are a source of national pride for Koreans and they celebrate its splendor with several regional festivals throughout the calendar year. It is supposedly good not only for sweet boners, but as a treatment for typed II diabetes, a nourishing stimulant, and an adaptogen which wards off fatigue, stress and anxiety. Go figure.

Whoa, Korea is cutty...

2008-12-01T04:55:00.000-08:00

To the 3, or dare I say 4 readers of this blog, let me take this opportunity to apologize for my terribly infrequent blog post. These last few weeks have been some of the most jarringly transitional of my life. They have seen me spend more time with my family than I have in the last 6 years (for those curious, it was both frustrating and awesome and made me realize that I miss my family more than I used to think), spend more time working than living my leisurely lifestyle (it's been like 5 months since I've worked full time), and of course the real zinger, seen me travel half way around the world to a country where I can barely say hello and thank you in the native language, Korean, which happens to be pretty fucking hard for me to wrap my head around.

Anyway, I am going to try to start blogging at least twice a week, I swear there will be pictures soon, as this is really my only link to my life in the west. With that said, feel free to leave comments, I would like to hear some of your response to my misadventures here in Korea. Being that I am dead beat tired (not to be confused with being a tired dead beat) I am going to keep this brief, but just to keep you posted some highlights from my last week in Korea include:

1. Eating the "gold tuna platter" at this this amazing raw tuna restaurant. The shit is on non-stop, come until you can't chew anymore status and as it's name suggest, is actually adorned with real GOLD flakes! Pretty fucking wild. The dish probably cost at least $40-50 US a person PLUS at least 4 bottles of soju (the most popular indigenous booze, it is made from distilled potatoes as is cheaper that fucking water. Despite the fact that is pretty kind on the old lips, it is devastating to the mind and body once all the fog clears. To give you an idea, it taste like cold, watered down vodka, with a certain unidentifiable charm. Stay tuned for more), and a bottle of nice sake. This truly wonderful dinner was quickly followed by karoake (sp) with my boss, the two teachers that Rachel and I are replacing, and of course Rachel and myself. A bottle of Johnny Walker Black later, we spilled out of the K room and were directed to a cab by my ABSOLUTELY wasted boss. He paid the cabby and sent us on our way. When I saw my boss two days later I found out that he had barely crawled home to his apartment and spent the subsequent hour puking before laying his head to rest. Needless to say, he spent the entire following day in bed and awkwardly asked, "did I make mistake on Friday?" It was a nice change to not be the one hazarding that question. "Of course not, you were great and I had a wonderful time."

Some fun facts about drinking in Korea:

Koreans like to drink. A lot. They are actually very macho about it. My first experience with this was when I was riding in the car with my boss and he asked me if I liked to drink. I told him, well I lied to him, and told him that on OCCASION I like to drink and that I had recently tried my hand at soju in a Korean bar in Oakland. He was immediately impressed and quickly responded by asking me how much I could drink. I had no idea how to answer that and more or less glided out of the conversation with some non offensive response like, "uh, a fair amount I suppose." Later I found out he was trying to ask me how many bottles of soju I could drink. Apparently 6 is pretty fucking burley (a bottle is 360 ml, just below 12 ounces and the booze weighs in at a respectable 40 proof). Now I'm not sure if I am to understand that one person drinking 6 is a lot or drinking 6 with a group is a lot, but man, given how I was pulling in 3 alarm hangover off my kareoke night, god knows what 6 to the dome would do to me. Korean are also found of bombing their soju. This is achieved by placing a shot of soju in a glass of beer that is what I estimate to be about 8 ounces. These are usually drank in quick succession. As I learn more, I will be quick to post. Stay tuned.

2. Back to my little vignettes; I live less than a block away from an awesome outdoor skatepark/rock climbing wall. It is free and very well maintained. It is also always unexplainably empty. Pictures soon.

3. I have set up an I chat video account. For those of you with AIM or ichat, I would LOVE to video conference (I feel like a douchebag saying this, but whatever, it's cheaper than talking to someone on a phone) or just type old fashioned style. For those of you with SKYPE I also set one of those guys up. The screen name for the aim/ichat account is PortDanny503 and for the SKYPE account it is simply PortDanny. Hope to hear from someone soon. The Email remains.

Adieu Roy Jones Jr.

2008-11-12T17:00:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, the 8th of November in the year 2008 one of my personal sports hero's, of which mind you there are VERY few, suffered what may be his most emotionally crushing defeat. The loss came by the hands of the relatively unknown, but undefeated Welshman, Joe Calzaghie. Until Calzaghie's fight earlier this year against the aging middleweight legend, Bernard Hopkins, the fighter was virtually unheard of across the proverbial pond. In what could only be described as a bizarre bout, the fight was punctuated by strange sexual theatrics by the Welshman, and sissy dramatics by the Yank. Calzaghie came out on top in split decision (a decision it is worth noting, that I am not in complete agreement with). The Hopkins fight was not merely a clashing of warriors, but a clash of boxing styles. Calzaghie's style is marked by his quick and frequent flurries of seemingly ineffectual, but still scoring shots. Hopkins, much like Jones is a more discerning fighter, opting to throw far fewer, but much more powerful shots, typically on the counter punch. Unfortunately, in a fight going to decision more often than not, the prior that wins the decision.

And that's how it went. Despite a first round knock down by Jones, Calzaghie managed to take it to the American, inundating him with a barrage of quick jabs and combinations. It was all too much for the aging fighter and by the 7th round it was pretty clear that Jones was losing steam and desperately out scored.

The champ still held on to his dignity and reputation as one of the biggest hearts in boxing history. While it was obvious the boxer was fighting on sea legs, had the worst cut of his career, and was sure to lose based on his points, Jones never went down, even when it seemed inevitable. The commentators likened the aging fighters performance to that of Jake LaMotta's in his final fight against Sugar Ray Leonard. In that Fight LaMotta took one of the most famous beatings in all of boxing history, swelling and bleeding all over the ring, but never hitting the canvas. LaMotta famously teased Leonard stating, "You never knocked me down, Ray. You never knocked me down." Jones could say same.