Sweetney

Finally, a candidate I can get behind!

A Candidate that speaks TO ME! snort.

Peeking in the back door

HALP! Mah muffintop hed iz freezid!

Pedro & Frankensheep

"Sleep is like a holiday for the brain." Tru, dat.

Transformers Best Day Ever!

Subtitle: This Little Miss Sunshine goes to ELEVEN.

Yeah, I'm probably going to hell for this... but I couldn't resist sharing M's first musical composition. No longer content to simply cover “Umbrella” and other songs, she's breaking out with a little original guitar-based rock. And the lyrics? PRICELESS INCOHERENCE.

Optimus Prime says:
“No sacrifice is too great in the service of freedom.... Well, except for listening to that song. That might in fact be too great a sacrifice. Come to think of it, you know what? FUCK FREEDOM, I'm outta here.”

links for 2008-01-30

• jennsylvania: It's Like Deja Vu All Over Again*
  Dudes. People like to steal blogger's shit, no? (PS: GO JEN GO!!)
• YouTube - Fuck Planet Earth
  NSFW, but oddly hilarious.
• THE SLANKET, THE BEST BLANKET EVER
  A blanket with sleeves? Why not just wear a freakin' robe?
• What font says 'Change'? - The Boston Globe
  Type designers decode the presidential candidates
• Most Emailed Photos - Flocke
  Today in cute...

LOLZ

Go to google.com, type in "Chuck Norris" and hit "I'm feeling lucky."

Oh, google. You make your ongoing quest to dominate our minds and take over of the world so amusing and enjoyable. heh.

2007 Favorites

A few images from this past year that for some reason or other make me happy. Enjoy!

Vampire Weekend, Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa

from the album Vampire Weekend

[Track Only]

This pretty much summarizes my day. Existentially.

A dreaded sunny day, so I meet you at the Cemetry Gates

Listening to one of the, like, 50 NPR podcasts I currently subscribe to the other day, I caught a segment during which one of the disembodied voices whispering into my ear (from the radio! not mah crazy!) stated that “you can't truly appreciate life unless you spend a few minutes every day thinking about death.” I wish to god I could remember the context, but I can't, and it's beside the point, really. Because guess where I just so happened to be listening to this podcast? A cemetery! I believe Alanis Morrisette would say that's ironic, doncha think?

For a couple of months now I've been taking daily walks in a small, neighborhood cemetery about two blocks from our house in Baltimore. The entire plot is maybe as big as a football field, with a paved track-and-field-like oval-shaped circuit running through it and a small brick chapel in its center. It's like the Germans who founded my hood back in the early 1800s decided to mash-up eternal rest with the 400 meter dash. That's German efficiency for you: the place is the BMW of cemeteries. I wonder where the cupholder is?

The ever-so-slightly-phallic chapel

Initially these walks were undertaken with a Bataan Death March level of enthusiasm (HEALTH. IMPORTANT. MUST. KEEP. WALKING. BLAARGH.), but over time I've come to look forward to them. Getting out into the world and nature once-a-day and getting away from the hypnotic glow of the computer screen is good for my soul I've found, and I think there is indeed something to be said for standing before a silent field of gravestones every day. In fact, confronting my mortality daily hasn't been a bummer at all. Ridiculous as it sounds, when I'm walking the circuit of the cemetery I feel among friends, and at ease. It isn't spooky, or creepy, or disturbing in the slightest. It feels to me as though I'm visiting my neighbors, paying respects to those who walked the streets of my hood before me. Tipping my hat to my predecessors, as it were.

Let's just hope none of them come calling to borrow a cup of sugar.

What brings you a feeling of well-being or happiness that others might find, errm, odd?

links for 2008-01-28

• http://whitewhine.tumblr.com/
  White people. Complaining.
• Lifestudies: A diary of a rock 'n' roll divorce
  Dean Wareham of Galaxie 500 & Luna on his affair with Luna's bassist, and resultant divorce
• You Suck at Photoshop, Hilarious Tutorials by Donnie Hoyle
  This precisely what the internet was made for.
• January 30th is International Delete Your MySpace Account Day
  I may just do this. You?

Just before bedtime

Hello, eyelashes.

See, this is what happens when Jamie goes away for the weekend*

[waves] Hi! Welcome to my I'm Done With BS moment! Please make yourself comfortable. An aperitif, perhaps?

Okay. So. There's a bit that comedian Louis CK does about his four-year-old daughter wherein he calls her “a fucking asshole.”

“Seriously,” he says, “if you're with a group of people who are trying to go somewhere, and you all can't go because a member of your party just refuses to put their shoes on? That person is a fucking asshole, okay?”

Ahem.

So M has declared, by way of a preschooler's version of an Official Press Release (MORE incoherence! FEWER bullet points!), that she does not want to go to school anymore. She's just kind of, well, over it. Besides, Cheerleader-Artist-Ballerinas don't need no book learnin', right?

And of course I'm all: dubbaya tee eff, dude? You're FIVE. You play all day AND HAVE SNACKS. What are you finding objectionable, exactly?

Then today at Bath & Body Works (shush!) she heaved herself to the floor and began flailing around beside a gigantic, precarious-and-fragiley-expensiveish looking home fragrance pyramid display, simply because I wouldn't buy her sparkly pink lip gloss AND some kind of ludicrous Build Your Own Lolita cosmetics palette she wanted. (NOTE: A small sketch of this exact scenario accompanies the definition of “Mortified” in the dictionary.)

She can't be serious with this shit. SHE'S NOT EVEN IN GRADE SCHOOL YET. This can't be right... [whisper:] Can it?

FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

(Oh, and to anyone preparing a response along the lines of “Oh mah gawd, what will her daughter think when she reads this in 10 years?! GASP AND FOR SHAME! WHERE IS MY GAVEL THAT I MIGHT JUDGE AND ALSO MAKE LOUD BANGY NOISES SO THAT PEOPLE PAY ATTENTION TO ME?” To you I say: let me skool you somethin'.

What will M think? She'll think: “Oh my god Mom, you crack me the hell up.” Because she's MY DAUGHTER and she will KNOW I love her, and -- perhaps most importantly -- SHE WILL HAVE A FREAKING SENSE OF HUMOR**. Which is something you should consider acquiring, incidentally. It comes in handy. And tends to make a person less of an asshole. BONUS!)
. . . . . . . . . .
*It being the day before the Communists arrive at the summer house doesn't help matters, surely.
**Because if she doesn't? Well, then we'd have to start with the beatings.

For the record, I LOVE THIS MAN

"What did that shitty kid do to that poor woman?" HAHAHAAAAA!

Very possibly the funniest human being alive, right there.

links for 2008-01-27

• Booksthatmakeyoudumb
  (Is feeling smarter for having read Lolita)

links for 2008-01-26

• ABC News: More Than Gossip, Britney Brings in Bucks
  But what about the cost of my pain and suffering, huh? How is THAT accounted for?

Zinntastic!

This is the only bumper sticker I've ever had as an adult, because on principle I kind of cringe at the idea of the, umm, genre. When I was a teenager I had a The Smiths “Meat Is Murder” bumper sticker on my K-Car, which endeared me greatly to residents of the Mid-Michigan farm community we lived in.

As you might've guessed, I slapped this baby on my now elderly Camry early on in W's administration. And it seems more appropriate every day.

Mishy-mashy-meltdowny (updated)

1. I think I have the blogger's version of ADD right now. Are there any drugs yet available for that? BESIDES COKE, I MEAN. jeez!

2. Today marks 80 days since I quit smoking. (wee hurrah!) That's 1,920 hours worth of pure, unadulterated lung sacs, people. Not that I'm, err, obsessive-compulsively counting or anything. cough.

3. My friend Angela was over at our house last night (we have a standing date to watch “Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew” each Thursday, because we're so totally awesome like that), and gave good quote, as follows:

“Libertarians are like well-spoken retarded people.” - Angela

I'm thinking someone might need to get some sloganized bumper stickers, coffee mugs, and novelty t-shirts printed up, no?

4. Remember that whole bizarre and frightening “Inside Edition” thing? Well fasten your seatbelts, because the piece is airing TONIGHT*. As in... (gulp) mere hours from now. Which begs the question: if I being drinking NOW, will I still be conscious at 7pm when the segment airs? Or should I perhaps just go ahead and ask a friend to swing by around 6:30pm and bop me on the head with a hammer or something?

Hold me?

For the record, I am in reality much, MUCH more articulate, attractive, and funnier than I appear on TV. No, seriously. It's like TV is a car's rear-view mirror, and I'm an object that is much larger than it appears. Wait, that came out all wrong...

5. In light of the impendingness of #4, I feel I should now say: WELCOME, INSIDE EDITION OVERLORDS! Please make yourselves comfortable... kick off your shoes and have a cocktail, fer crissakes! And in case any of you were wondering, here's a sampling of what this blog is like when I'm not yammering on endlessly about my dorktastic dog. (Okay, so YES, there's still dog-yammering involved there... but we're talking a trivial 8% net dog-yammering when adjusted over 12 months. I should have some graphs and pie charts made -- maybe a powerpoint presentation, yes?)

6. Oh to hell with it.

I vant to be alooooone, far from the maddening crowds....

I has outside!

*UPDATE: Literally TWO EFFING MINUTES after I posted this, I got the following email in my inbox form the person at “Inside Edition” who'd written this morning to inform me the Truman piece would be running tonight:

“I JUST GOT THE NEW RUN DOWN FOR THE SHOW TODAY. THE SHOW WILL NOT BE AIRING THIS TODAY. Sorry for all the confusion. Due to Heath Ledger passing away we are doing a lot of pieces on him. I will let you know when the new air date is.”

Sorry everybody.

If you need me I'll be hiding under a large rock, mortified and blushing, until further notice. over/out.

"The Wire": Four Seasons in Four Minutes

This makes me unbelievably happy. If y'all aren't watching this show, you need to be.

Self Portrait: New Hat

So RIDICULOUSLY warm. Plus the little braids that dangle from the ear flaps make me feel all Pippy Longstocking-spritely.

Letters, I get letters

EDIT: The CBC Radio podcast is up! You can download it here.

. . . . . . . . . .

Though slightly better than hate mail proclaiming “I hope you die in a fire, bitch!!1!!!” (<-- actual quote from an actual email received by me just this month!), some recent unsolicited contributions to my burgeoning inbox include the following:

From: Oprah Winfrey's Secret
Subject: Lose 10 Pounds in Six Weeks, I Guarantee It!

From: Nigel Roy
Subject: Less weight - more pleasure and joy!

From: Royal N. Bland
Subject: LoseWeightFAST!

From: Miguel Hicks
Subject: Getting thinner can be enjoyable!

From: LoseWeight
Subject: Drop 20 lbs - fit back into those jeans at no charge!

So clearly I've been internet-profiled and pegged as a fatty. A hefer. A dimpled cow. Chunkaliscious, as it were.

Huh. I can't imagine why. snort.

Somewhat (but not really) related: if you're Canadian, or have always aspired to be Canadian, or are just someone who likes to dress up like a Mountie and talk “aboot” Moose (Mooses?), please be aware that I will be infecting the International Airwaves tomorrow (Thursday 9/24) with the voice attached to my massively fat ass on this here CBC Radio One “Search Engine” show. However, if -- like me -- you are unfortunate enough to not be Canadian, you can pick up the podcast here tomorrow.

Somewhat actually related: it seems breaking celebrity melodrama has temporarily backburnered the “Inside Edition” piece filmed last week, because apparently most humans who are not me think those stories are more important. AS IF. So I'm told the story will air soon, probably on the next truly slow news day (or so I imagine). As always, you'll know when I know. Because I'm a sharer like that.

In the meantime, I'm pretty sure you'll want to check this out. PYT, Pretty Young Thing.

Cat Power, The Greatest

From the album The Greatest

One of my all-time favorite sad songs. Never fails to make me weepy, almost instantaneously. Oh you'll see...

[Track only]

Truman & Lise: A Love Story

Our friend Lise, being wooed by Truman Monday evening:

That dog has good taste in the ladies, that's for sure.

links for 2008-01-22

• Razzies© 2007 Nominees
  Poor Li Lo. Snort.
• Flickr: The Mah Fridge: Let Me Show It To You Pool
  It's blowin' up! You should JOIN US!
• 10 Incredible Old Computer Ads
  Wow, 80mbs for under $12K? Where do I sign?

The Most Secret Baby

Our friend Marc -- once a rock star, and currently an actor -- is now a Dad. I think it might be his best role yet.

What's the point of having kids if you can't publicly embarrass them?

I mean, isn't that one of life's greatest joys -- the humiliation of one's own children? They are, after all, simply human-shaped repositories of comedy gold. For example:

For better or worse, she's just picked up on Hanna Montana being, like, THE BEST FREAKIN' THING ON PLANET EARTH, so I'm guessing this might be the first in a series of fabulous musical numbers. Try to contain your enthusiasm.

Happy Fight The Power day, everybody!

In honor, in memoriam, with deep respect, let us remember why:

Mah desktop

(Let me show you it:)

Full-sized here.

I don't know why, but I love seeing people's desktops (kind of like the fridge thing, I guess).

Okay, so I'm just nosy.

A purse is not food!

Precocious

Her understanding of the internet: I want to play on the computer! Can you go to kidplay.com?

Her understanding of a career path: When I grow up I'm going to be a cheerleader/artist.

Her understanding of Britney Spears, via a magazine cover photo in the supermarket: Mommy, that girl looks sad.

I really couldn't be more frightened by this

Umm, SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE MOTHERFUCKER!

Wake me when this election is over, okay?

links for 2008-01-17

• ThinkGeek :: SnūzNLūz - Wifi Donation Alarm Clock
  "Connects via WiFi to your online bank account, and donates YOUR real money to an organization you HATE when you decide to snooze!"
• The Sound of Young America: Podcast: The Wire's Bubbles and Bunk: Andre Royo and Wendell Pierce
  Because you so know this show is teh awesome!
• Flickr: Photos from The Library of Congress
  LOC's flickr photo page -- "more than 3,000 photos from two of our most popular collections are being made available on our new Flickr page, to include only images for which no copyright restrictions are known to exist." WOOT!
• Hollywood Hair Virtual Makeover - Try On Celebrity Hairstyles at InStyle.com - Trends - In Style
  Not that you need one. You're gorgeous just as you are.
• Computer decodes dog communication - tech - 17 January 2008 - New Scientist Tech
  Not sure I really want to know what Truman has to say, to be perfectly honest

And now he's pitching a movie of the week entitled “Truman: Innocence Stolen”

So I'm guessing all of you are pretty sick of the dog thing at this point. Well TOO BAD. (insert evil, fiendish cackling)

On Tuesday “Inside Edition” descended on our home like a plague of locusts laden with a metric ton of fancy-pants electronic equipment. When friends have asked me to describe what that morning was like, the only word that seems appropriate is “surreal,” though “panic-attack-inducing” and “fucking terrifying” might also work in a pinch. If there's one thing that this experience violently underscored for me it's that I am in no way cut out for the ranks of Celebrity -- at least if the version of Celebrity in question involves trying to speak coherently while staring directly into the dead, glassy eye of a videocamera. There's a reason I'm a writer and not an, errm, talker. Talking BAAAAD.

Anyway, it was sort of fascinating to see how what will probably end up being a minute or so of television gets cobbled together. The vast majority of the time the crew was here was comprised of a mind-numbing 'hurry up and wait' variety of suspended animation. I spent many long minutes sitting very, very still, staring off into dead air space located in the direction of where the segment's producer would sit across from me during our interview, so that the crew could set up shots and adjust lighting. The remainder of the time involved wrangling Truman -- who was so spastic with excitement you'd have thought the Disabled and Defenseless Small Mammal Circus had shown up unexpectedly on his doorstep -- and engaging him in a variety of activities for the benefit of the camera (Playing! Petting! Fetch! Tug-o-war! Stupid Santa Costuming! Whee!). I don't know if I've ever seen Truman happier, honestly. It's almost as if he'd been hamming in front of the camera his entire life. Oh, wait...

Oh hai, I re-coaxialed your cables.

The actual interview went fairly well, I suppose. I only had one full-on out-of-body experience during it, at which point I completely lost my train of thought, abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence, and began twitching, foaming at the mouth, and rolling my eyes back into my head, Exorcist-style. HOW MUCH YOU WANNA BET THEY USE THAT FOOTAGE, HUH?

All told, it was a distinctly edumacational experience, if a slightly harrowing one. I'm told the piece will air in the next couple of days -- perhaps as early as tonight -- so be sure to keep an eye on this space, and I'll update as details come in. Because apparently many of you do indeed care. Like, A WHOLE FREAKIN' LOT and stuff. (shrugs)

PS: And while we're on the subject, my dear Mrs. Kennedy pointed this out to me the other day. It just doesn't end, does it?

Ize ready for mah close-up

Oh hai, I adjusted your aperture settings!

By the end of their time with us, Truman and the “Inside Edition” crew were best buds. Of course. (rolls eyes)

links for 2008-01-16

• Exclusive: The Cruise Indoctrination Video Scientology Tried To Suppress
  If you haven't yet seen this video of Tom Cruise appearing more than a little batshit crazy, ohmahstinkin' heck you MUST
• The Raw Story | US drafting plan to allow government access to any email or Web search
  Uhh, this is bad
• ROFLCon
  "...an effort to assemble every famous internet meme or celebrity to come to Harvard in the spring of 2008 to attend a conference." AWESOME!

Headlights, Cherry Tulips

From the forthcoming album Some Racing, Some Stopping
[Track Only]

It's like, how much more sparkly could this be? And the answer is none. None more sparkly.*

(*Bows deeply to “This Is Spinal Tap”)

High Anxiety

This morning a crew from “Inside Edition” came and took over my household. As you might imagine, it was fucking insane.

(Photo taken by the kindly camera dude, who knew
just what was important to focus on in this shot)

More soon. After a whole lot of drinking.

blah blah blah

A logic puzzle

Tracey likes to take pictures and share them on the internet. Recently, a photo of her dog was lifted from her website by a large media corporation and broadcast on television to millions. During the ensuing fracas, Tracey was contacted by a well-known TV newsmagazine and asked to give an interview about her experience, allow said dog to be filmed wearing a ridiculous santa costume, etcetera. The filming is set to take place tomorrow morning. Given this information, how freaked out is Tracey?

Answers:

1. OMFG WTF BBQ!?!?!
2. Think I can lose 20 pounds in the next 24 hours? Wait, the camera puts on 10, right? So make that 30.
3. aaaaiiieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!
4. (brain silently explodes)
5. The dog's name is not Rex or Misty.

More than one answer may be correct. Tracey may also have just wet herself.

“Pizza? Now that's what I call a taco!”

I can't explain why this makes me so happy. It just does.

TACO TOWN!!!!

Have a good weekend, kiddos.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day...

Talkin' bout my girl (my girl!).

Architecture in Helsinki, Heart It Races

from the album Places Like This

Great, great song. This video scares me a little though, I must admit.
[Track Only]

This inscrutable cipher brought to you by the missing letter L

This board was hanging in the kitchen at the beach house we recently rented, and was an ongoing source of much conjecture and supposition among all the house guests during our stay. Sort of like The Dead Sea Scrolls or The Voynich Manuscript (but with far worse penmanship).

True Internet Dork Mom Confessions

Ripped from the headlines actual idle timewasting IM conversations between myself and Kelly (aka kdiddy) earlier this evening:

kdiddy: i told K to put the silverware away from the dishwasher and then disappeared to my bedroom
kdiddy: as soon as he's tall enough to take over dishwasher duty IT'S SO ON
sweetney: yes, hide in the bedroom. i on the other hand am puke bowl holder and i cannot hide
kdiddy: auuugghgh
kdiddy: M is puking?
sweetney: LOTS. TORRENTS.
kdiddy: SUCK
kdiddy: what the hell?
sweetney: waaaah
kdiddy: too much awesome sauce?
sweetney: HA
sweetney: very NOT awesome sauce
kdiddy: i'm sorry dude
kdiddy: uh, not to pile on more suck but i think mayhaps your site is not well
sweetney: what is it doing?
kdiddy: nothing. like there's no text.
sweetney: arrgh

[*brief site fixin' break*]

sweetney: whew, thanks for telling me.
kdiddy: word
kdiddy: yes. is all better now
kdiddy: thanks for getting right on that. i had urgent sweetney.com needs
sweetney: har
kdiddy: not really. i just ran out of things in google reader and started loitering
sweetney: blog loitering. that's awesome
kdiddy: yeah. in the alley of sweetney.com i smoke cigarettes and make out with my boyfriends
sweetney: frankly i like to think of sweetney.com as a place to hang for internet burnout moms
kdiddy: yeah. and we smoke cigarettes and make out with our boyfriends
sweetney: YEAH! YEAH!
kdiddy: ack! it's after 9pm. i'll be back in a bit. K needs to take 16 different anti-psychotic meds so he'll stop with all of that talking and shit
kdiddy: and then go to bed
sweetney: what, no beating tonight?
sweetney: DON'T FORGET THE BEATING!
kdiddy: yeah. after i do some drugs too so it's a fair fight

Awesomeness: you're soaking in it.

PS: Dudes, The Washington Post! Seriously!

PPS: Over the past 24 hours Sweetney has been getting a much needed shoring-up, tuning-up, and all-around upgrading, thanks to Jonathan from FM. I mention this only because you might notice some mild site wonkiness temporarily. All part of making Sweetney better than before: Better, stronger, faster.

5-year-old reads, universe rejoices

Angela & The Rubes

This photo documents a magical moment: M's best buddy Ruby spontaneous reading the text in a drawing hung on our wall Sunday afternoon all by her sweet self -- working through each word, letter sound by letter sound, until she'd read the whole thing. I don't think I could've felt prouder if it was my own child.

Unfortunately, this was what she was reading:

Try explaining THAT to a preschooler. C'mon, I DARE YOU.

Can you hear me weeping from over where you are?

Taken last week, mere steps from the front door of our rented beach house:

Yeah, I pretty much hate life right now. I'll get over it. sniff.

Reality bites

Despite appearances, life has continued on pretty much unchanged here in the Sweetney household since Dog Photo Kerfuffle 2007 began its reign of terror. Well, except that Truman now has an agent, and is working on his memoirs and shopping a couple screenplays around. Confidentially, I must admit that I'm growing tired of his ceaseless shrieking to “GET HOLLYWOOD ON THE PHONE!” and bi-hourly calls for Red Bull and curly tail massages. But beyond that, it's all pretty much business as usual. Oh, but did I mention Truman's going to be on the next season of The Surreal Life? I think he'll make a fine Vern Troyer replacement. snorfle.

In other Sweetney family news, M is currently grappling with the knowledge that Meat = Animals, something that seems to have just fully struck her, sadly. As many of you know, we're vegetarians. Well, sort of. We eat fish and Jamie eats other seafood (primarily crustaceans, or “Disgusting Sea Bugs”, as I like to call them, loudly, to whoever will listen). I believe there's some fancy-pants term for this ridiculous sham type of vegetarianism, though I can't recall the precise terminology. Fauxgetarianism? Mylifeisahollowliegetarianism? ANYWAY, the point is that when we made the decision to cut out meat it was primarily for sustainability slash land-use issues, not because we couldn't bear to kill Babe and eat his delicious smoke-tinged bacony goodness. When M was born we decided that because we're lazy sods who apparently can't be bothered to volunteer or otherwise contribute positively to the society we'd just plopped our beloved first-born into, we should deprive ourselves of meat as a kind of environmental penance. But because fish don't really fall under the umbrella (ella ella aye aye aye) of earth-unfriendly corn-guzzling mammals, to them I say: I MUNNA EAT CHOOOOOO!

The problem is that this sorta-vegetarian program -- despite making perfect sense to us -- kind of complicates M's comprehension of the whole To Eat Animals Or Not To Eat Animals question. Because as far as she's concerned, if it's got eyes (or eye-like stalks) and can be enhanced through the magic of Disney animation into something squishy and huggable -- suitable for transformation into a cuddly stuffed toy friend -- then eating it is wrong. From her perspective, we might as well haul the lifeless carcass of Bambi home strapped to the hood of our car if we're going to go ahead and eat The Little Mermaid's fishy friend, Flounder.

Stupid anthropomorphizing Disney.

So lately M's taken to actively shaming us whenever the issue arises, which is A FUCKING TREAT, let me tell you. She's particularly aghast at Jamie's broad consumption of the ocean's potentially adorable creatures, while I seem to be getting off easier since I stick with fish and don't eat a lot of it. On our way to eat sushi the other day, she leaned forward from her position in the backseat of our car just to whisper to me, in hushed, conspiratorial tones: “Mommy! Daddy eats animals!” I'm not exactly sure what she expected as a response. “REALLY? Well let's tie him down and beat the murderous bloodlust out of him! Where did I put my ball gag and wooden ritualized humiliation butt-paddle?” Durr?

I hate to think of what's going to happen when she comes to the realization that eggs are the embryonic version of fluffy little chicks, or that milk is wrung from cows in a manner so industrial and mechanically efficient that most bovines hardly ever see the light of day, let alone frolic in green pastures with chatty bluebirds and friendly squirrels. Sometimes it's an ugly business, this whole being human thing. But the hard truth is that life requires eating life in some form or other, and coming to terms with that is a hard necessity. Has Disney animated any fruits or vegetables lately? God, I hope not.

No comment.
(Has eaten cicadas, wood chips, and his own feces, and so is in no position to speak on this matter.)

Darling

Bodymore, Murderland

Excellent timing, this.

I say that because my hometown paper, The Baltimore Sun, is the focus of the final season of HBO's The Wire, which premieres tonight at 9pm. And so I must take advantage of the synchronicity and use this opportunity to bludgeon all of you with my love for this show, which is fairly epic. Devotees of The Wire feel me in this, I'm sure.

Without overstating the matter (I swear!), it is perhaps the finest television show ever made -- complex and finely wrought, with characters so fully realized you feel as though they truly are real people. The Wire's stories of the post-industrial city and its inhabitants are always multi-dimensional and multi-faceted, expressing hard truths about our society -- and about humanity, broadly -- that don't have simple answers or neat conclusions. I deeply admire everything about the show, and hope this year will see it get it's due in the form of many shiny statuettes (hint, hint, Hollywood types).

You should so totally be watching, if you aren't already. I'd come over to your place and bring my DVDs of the first couple of seasons to convince you if I could, believe me.

/end obnoxious evangelizing. Go in peace, my bruthas and sistahs.

PS: I love this man. (Sorry, I couldn't resist a parting shot.)

Portraiture & Futility

Tom, K, M, & Kelly, January 2nd, 2008:

I so miss those guys.

“Trumangate” has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

A little tip for those of you who plan on having content you post on the web appropriated by a large corporation: It expedites processes enormously to get The Washington Post -- aka The Watergatinator -- somehow involved.

Since Dog Photo Kerfuffle 2007 began I've been approached by several news outlets, but apparently The Washington Post has some special superpowers that strike terror into the hearts of other media corps. They contacted me earlier this week and I finally spoke with a Post reporter yesterday (I was on vacation, dudes. PRIORITIES!), who also reached out and touched people over at FOX to get their side of the story.

The upshot? I'm now in talks with FOX over this whole debacle, trying to work something out that doesn't involve lawyers and/or undue bloodshed. So far, my demands are as follows:

• $200,000 in unmarked twenty-dollar bills
• A guest spot on The O'Reilly Factor, during which the host is required to refer to me only as “The All-Being, Master Of Time, Space, and Dimension”
• A swank private jet stocked to the gills with Cristal and Jello Pudding Pops (don't ask)
• A kilo of pure, unadulterated cocaine
• A slot in the upcoming American Idol competition
• A lock of Rupert Murdoch's silken, shimmering hair, tied with a pink bow

I'm still waiting to hear back. Fingers crossed!

Oh I kid! Actually, here's what I sent to them:

Hi [name of FOX person],

[Name of Reporter] from the Washington Post suggested I get in touch with you w/r/t an image of mine that was used during a FOX NFL broadcast a couple weeks ago -- I'm guessing she fully briefed you at this point?

I'd of course be happy to answer any questions you might have about the issue, but to be clear: I'm not litigious, and this is not about wanting to “sue FOX for all their worth” or something. Basically I'd just like some kind of acknowledgment that a mistake was made and that my photo was used without permission, and then whatever the appropriate monetary compensation is for use of similar images during an NFL broadcast on FOX. That's it, honestly.

The larger issue for me is about making sure people -- private individuals as well as corporations -- understand that images put on the web or on the photo sharing site flickr aren't necessarily “fair game” and that laws regarding copyright and ownership still apply on the web.

Thanks for your attention regarding this matter.

Best,
Tracey Gaughran-Perez
sweetney.com

I'm thinking perhaps I should've closed with “Cordially” as opposed to the more intimate “Best”, but otherwise I'm pretty confident that email says all that I needed to say. Ultimately, I hope the precedent set here will help clarify what seems to be an undue amount of confusion out there (or at least among Sweetney commenters) about the significance, meaning, and viability of “copyright” and “all rights reserved” on the web regarding content. And then I hope to be able to perform the “I Told You So Nah-Nanny-Nah-Nah” dance and thumb my nose at all the belligerent nay-sayers. Because yes, I'm twelve years old.

Not surprisingly, the blame for all of this is being placed on “a low-level production assistant who was tasked with finding holiday images at the last minute. Apparently, no one asked where he got the images” (so said the Post reporter who put me in touch with FOX higher-ups). Will someone please inform the production assistants of the world that flickr isn't a stock photo site? Can we all get clear on that, make it part of PA-101: Day One training or something? Just a thought.

I'll keep you all posted on things as they develop.

When The Party's Over

Our last day at the beach, the photo essay:

Best. Beach house. Evar.

M & K. Hoodlums.

Jamie & M

Specimen.

Kelly & M, playing chicken with the waves

Damn that went fast.