The question for this Thursday is ‘Do you save Emails?’
You can actually delete emails from phones now. omg.
Ever since I became a gmail user I have very rarely deleted personal emails. My oldest email on record is from Tue, Apr 10, 2007 at 6:06 PM. This email is one of 8146 that I currently have in my inbox. 7412 have never been opened. I don’t suppose these numbers to very impressive considering how easy Google makes it to keep your unwanted emails. After doing some research I found that many people have different views on email deletion. My Mother, much to the chigrin of my Father, rarely deletes emails as well, although spam and other junk emails are often discarded on sight. My Father takes a much more ‘corporate’ stance when it comes to his inbox. He goes through each one, and responds, and then deletes them until his inbox is empty. This may be the result of years of soul crushing corprate upper management. More research must be done in order to determine that. I also have heard of emails as old as 6/17/04. This ’email non-deleter’s’ identity will not be released in order to maintain their privacy and freedom of deletion. It should also be noted that this person does and continues to delete emails at their own desired rate.
You may remember my recent blog about ads from California running in my home state of Michigan.
Recently I was out-of-town and noticed that Michigan does indeed run ads in other states. Thank God.
Not only does Michigan run these ads, trying to lure unsuspecting citizens to this great state, they’ve been doing so for awhile. For years, in fact.
Here’s the one I saw playing in Virginia.
The beautiful scenery speaks for itself in this piece. I mean look at that cinematography. The subtle soundtrack, the smooth narration. The sad overtones about poor coffee polluted water. The refreshing idea of jumping into mid april Michigan lakes. (Don’t do it, if it’s your first time; brrrrrrrr) I think those curious Americans out there who wonder where the water that comes out of their tap comes from might like to see these glacial wetlands we call Michigan. Or they could let the water tap into its true potential and let it be, aka stay where they are and don’t think about it, talk about, use it for bathing, etc. etc.
So I was watching P. Diddy’s making the band 4. That guy’s swagger is at one zillion, btw. Honestly, that show is one of my guilty pleasures. One that I find hard to admit. Anyway, so I was watching this, and he said the most amazing thing. He is going to be IN DETROIT, auditioning for his new tour ‘the last train to paris’. He wil be at the music hall on march, 21. Full details at makinghisband.mtv.com!
He is going to be auditioning for guitar, bass, keyboard and back up singers. I’m not sure if accordions count as ‘keyboards’ per se, but I started cooking something up to wow him immediately after I smoked a cigarette. The following video is what I have so far. It is intensely personal, so feel free to point and laugh. I have included the lyrics as well, as the sound quality is not of the highest … um, quality.
I lost my job/
I crashed my car/
I got them detroit city blues/
Do you think it’s funny/
funny/
cause I think it’s funny too/
but it’s ok/
cause I got something/
that’s better than money/
aint got no job/
aint got no wheels/
but i got them detroit city blues/
I bet Puffy likes me.
Besides crashing, I may have joined a band yesterday. We may be called ‘The Ghost Tramp Revival’ and we may be rad. We will be parading on Feb 24, or Mardi Gras, or if you’re from where I’m from, punczki day. We are starting at Greektown Station at 5. Wear a costume, and bring an instrument (or a friend) and be ready to march. Festivities afterward. Poster below.
I am not very good at this instrument yet. I got it last saturday morning at 1:30 am. I really think it looks cool and it says General Acc. Detroit on it. It also has the owner’s name, Edward, in rinestones set into it as well. All in all it is a beautiful work of art that makes beautiful music. It is well played and I look foward to playing it more. I wonder where it has been and what joy it has given to people. I want to continue in that tradition. I hope to use it busking this summer with my friends and it may be part of our annual Mardi Gras parade later this month, weather permitting. If I ever learn any real songs on it I will post videos of them here. The popularity of this instrument declined in the 50s, and 60s, but I’m into it. So let’s polka, and stay hungry.
If you are watching daytime TV and your hair doesn’t look like this you are doing something wrong.
Maury is riveting.
A much better activity for these types of days are in descending order of importance:
-going to the unemplyment insurance agency
-drinking a pot of coffee
-working on your website
-drawing/ painting/ sketching
-pretty much anything
-napping
-sleeping till prime time tv
-making/ building/ painting walls
-monitoring your injured ferret
-smoking cigarettes
-playing cards, eg solitaire with a deck of 51
-singing some 90’s classics
Here we have included the Channel 4 News as a dichotomy between the visuals of daytime tv and the audio spectacle of our rendition of “I’ll Make Love To You”, the classic 90’s hit song from Boyz II Men.
I can’t stress this point enough. Censoring the internet is about the lamest thing I can think of. The internet is a blank canvas of servers and networks. It is a grid, free from self-conciousness, but overflowing with potential. It can store any number of informational bits and bites, we, the people, can think to upload to it.
The internet age is its own censor. I know that, no matter what; if I am an active or inactive user of the internet, my information will find its way on to it. From something I bought at Target or a new credit card I opened up, to the last job I had, or video of me caught by a security tape, I will end up on the internet. When I put something out on the internet I am very aware of what I am doing. I am opening up that part of me to the entire world. Or more specifically, the entire world that has an internet connection. This is a lot of people.
This guy does not know he is on the internet!
I know that the phone companies will try to freeze the internet so they can reap more profits, and maybe they will succeed. I would hate to have to pay a premium just to use everyday sites like google or yahoo!. This is a form of censorship in my opinion, because it will rate the sites and put a dollar sign on their usability. It may actually destroy some big named sites of today, because free, unregulated, toll-less sites will spring up in their place. I don’t know if that is a good thing or bad thing.
I hope the government does not choose to ever censor the internet like China does. It would make me sad. Stay hungry.
So I recorded ‘Girlz Look Fly’ fast and loose. The instrumental break isn’t my best effort, but I believe that this is pretty close to getting a live performance. Enjoy!
What would the girlz do if they couldn’t look fly/
homey, homey, hold me down/
I know there is no reason why/
round and round and round and round/
I know how to move my chips/
She knows how to move her hips/
She moves for her tips/
Homey there ain’t no luck in this/
Still you can’t say I’m not lucky/
Still you cant say I’m not young/
What would the girlz do if they couldn’t look fly/
I’m sure they’d think of some/
I’ve got a lot of friends who claim they’re rock and roll/
But me, I’m country rock hop with soul/
And I would give anything to my friends/
To ensure we go around again/
Still you can’t say we’re not hungry/
Still you cant say we’re not alone/
What would the girlz do if they couldn’t look fly/
I’m sure they’d think of some/
Why why why why/
Do they look so fly/
Why why why why/
Do they look so fly/
I’m just a poor boy from Bloomfield Hills/
Full of guilt and prescription pills/
Sometimes I wish I looked fly like you/
But just imagine all the harm I’d do/
What would the girlz do if they couldn’t look fly/
homey, homey, hold me down/
I know there is no reason why/
round and round and round and round/
I speak the truth so I’m gospel too/
and couldn’t we all use a little good news/
Beef stroganoff in the fridge. A prickly pear. I’m eating. The light goes on and off and I reheat my leftovers. I know there is no nutritional value to a hot meal these days. Could I advance to the warm oven in this arctic cold front? To the sizzling stove.
A breeze brushes my shoulder where I left the kitchen towel, hung limply waiting for a damp spot on the counter. In a rush I realize the finality to dinner. To an evening of sitcoms and comatose advertising. Wrenching digitally away.
The crisper door slides noisily. Another meal to prepare. This one cold and old and boring. Infusing potato chips into a turkey sandwhich, I relieve for a little while my carbon footprint. Releasing just the slightest pressure on the neck of mother earth. She barely even notices me anymore.
She hasn’t really even fed me since I was weened. And even then the drugs seeped into the circular and squarish bosoms I drank from. Now I inject them into myself willfully. Pursuing the next deep winter breath. I couldn’t even cough up the flem without these new drugs, I think.
Back in my schoolyard days I was something of metaphysical philosopher. During this time of heavy and fluid thought I came up with a small word game which I used to show the intrinsic disconnect between time and infinite. This is nothing new. Greek thinkers have been coming up these quick (and fun, if you’re a geek like me) mind funks for millenniums. Remember the one about Achilles and the tortoise?
The INFINITE SECOND THEORY:
Is time even real?
So you take one second. Bam. And you break it into as many possible parts as you can. Infinite, right? O. K., so are you with me so far? Basically you have a second that is split into an infinite number of smaller units, lets call them, infiseconds. Now you set up your stop watch and let the second run through! *error error error* is all you see on your watch face. Reason? Because if there are truly an infinite amount of units to the second, it will never run out. This leaves us with one (and only one) of two possibilities.
Either time does not exist, or infinite does not exist. Since time is experiential, (only the relative measurements are devised by men and women) then we can dismiss the foolish idea that time is not real. We grow older. Time exists. Infinite on the other hand is not experiential, although the national debt might convince you otherwise. There is no ‘proof’ that infinite exists. And there can not be. Unless we find a number that is not -1, such that when you add 1 to it, it equals zero. I believe this number exists. What about you? Time or Infinite? Or both? Stay hungry.
Get well soon. Please stop destroying multi-billion dollar fortunes at the expense of the unfortunate souls how have them. It is unfair that they should think their lives aren’t worth living just because they lost some of their money. Poor Adolf drugged himself onto some train tracks because of you, and in an ironic twist, his company got saved two measly days after. There have been others, and I hope you can get better fast so all this dying can stop.
Yours Truly,
-ghost
Seriously, this is a very sad topic, kind of a downer, but it trips me out. The way I figure it, there is only two possibilities why these people are killing themselves.
One is conspiracy.
Most of the time when I use ‘conspiracy’, I mean ‘human nature’, not necessarily the ‘Lincoln Assassination’ kind. There’s really no saying how big the levaitian actually is, or how many tentacles each has, but each one has at least two. The question is: “why are these people committing suicide?” Some of the top one-hundred are dying off, and the money doesn’t ring true to me. I can see someone who just lost all of their seven million dollars jumping out of a building, but not seven billion, let alone forty billion. Doesn’t there come a point where you have so much money that you just kind of transcend into peace? I’m fairly sure that some of these guys could have landed on their feet.
Or maybe they just really have absolutely no perspective.
The kind of perspective you’d need if you were going to believe in a global conspiracy between the world banks and the government class. Maybe they thought their lives really were over because they were going to have to limit their daughters to one ranch a piece. Or one horse. Maybe they looked at their life’s work and realized it was mostly gone. Maybe they went insane from pressure? Pax thinks they maybe just had an accident. Whatever it was, it was senseless. It’s all senseless. Stay hungry.
Art and How It Kills 