SWLLC Megafauna

…nothing.

Not quite good enough for the Poetry Spam, but every now and then we get some truly epic crap in our inbox.

I have pepper’d two of them.

The Byrds left out the 3rd and 4th verse in their rendition. This software is provided “as is” and any express or implied waranties, including but not limited to, the implied warranties of merchantability and fitness for a particular purpose are disclaimed. The CTransformFilter class supports only one input pin and one output pin. And now nobody can tell me how to get home. The getopt function returns the option character for the next command line option. Cluster Platform 3000 DL360G3 Xeon 2. This is different from a code example, which is covered by the CODE element. Yea, to the dead.

The 122 howitzer is the largest in use in the Soviet Army. In general, conduits should avoid changing the system date and time. That is why the Christian is in a different position from other people who are trying to be good. I have played with a few routines as such. The stream to write relevant log messages to. Gerty had an idea, one of love’s little ruses. In time for Inundation. Their white dresses had no decoration except for seven bands of color at the hem, one band for each Ajah.

Control of devices associated with video streams such as TV tuners, video routing devices, TV audio control, and video compressors. In tcsh, the if statement has two different forms. If this option is specified as an empty string (the default), then the foreground option for the overall tab- notebook is used. He did not want his folk to hurt themselves in their fury, and he did not want Saruman to escape out of some hole in the confusion.

The edit box displaying the DDK path is disabled. They are crack shots, the stars of our team.
The chiefs of both these directorates answer to the chief of the GRU and are his deputies, but not first deputies. He was deploring the dreadful predicament in which he found himself, in a house full of old women, jabbering French and Italian, and talking poetry to him.

here i am, looking out the window of the rental car. i am looking for someone from the hotel that i am parked outisde of. i imagine that, sooner or later, someone in that hotel will realize that i am parked here because i am stealing their wireless connection. for the time being, however, i am safe.

i am in maine, as i tend to be around this time of year, and it is beautiful, as it tends to be around this time of year. if you can get to portland, maine, and eat at fore street, i highly recommend everything there. also, i love their brushed steel tabletops and the huge applewood oven and the venison shank and the homemade jelly doughnuts. while all that can be included in “everything”, it is all worth mentioning individually.

riley called me yesterday, and i have new preamp in the studio. this is fantastic news. to celebrate this news, i promptly read in the hammock by the lake until i fell asleep and sunburned the tops of my feet. when i get home to this preamp and can beginning thumping the new set around with it, i will grin like a boston terrier in spite of the fact that my feet are sunburned. i will leave a smoldering crater of melodic, driving rock bass where once the mississippi pizza pub stood. then i will limp down to my favorite taqueria and gorge on carnitas and camarone tacos and talk to other native portland (oregon) hipsters about how not since the era of clyde the glide have we been this excited about pretending that we have been into the blazers even through the jailblazer years. incidentally, greg oden’s preferred nickname is simply “g.o.”.

i miss you. i am excited for you to meet riley and hear what in hell we’ve been doing for these last months besides falling asleep in hammocks and daydreaming about rocking venues to the ground.

here’s what i cannot stop doing…

- listening to the last two albums by “the national”
- reading stories by amy hempel
- kayaking at dawn with a cup of coffee balanced between my knees

You’re probably sick of hearing me talk about how great Monster Camp is, but tonight I saw it on the big screen for the first time ever, and…wow. It’s a damn good movie, even on the 4th or 5th viewing.

Unfortunately, as director Cullen Hoback explained during the post-screening Q&A, independent films are like alligator babies, in that only something like 1 in 8000 actually wind up “surviving” (i.e., getting theatrical distribution beyond the festival circuit). Monster Camp’s odds are better than most, as it’s already picked up some awards and is a genuinely good film, but take a moment from whatever you’re doing to shed a quiet tear for the independent filmmaker, as his life is arguably even harder than that of the stand-up comedian.

Anyways, someday it’ll come to your town, and you’ll go see it, and only then will you fully appreciate the awesomeness of this:

Until then, you’ll just have to take my word that the soundtrack’s going off to the iTunes people on Monday and should be available for download in a couple of weeks.

How many of you actually know the story behind the Jack-o-Lantern? Apparently, someone named Jack sold his soul to the devil in exchange for seven years of prosperity. As with most of these back-in-the-day contracts, Jack somehow got a clause past the devil’s lawyers authorizing him to trap anyone who trespassed into his peach tree, armchair, and/or coin purse, indefinitely. The devil, of course, got stuck in Jack’s peach tree, then Jack’s armchair, and finally Jack’s purse when he inexplicably turned himself into a fly for the afternoon.

Jack eventually died and went to hell, but the devil didn’t want him there, presumably because he was a walking reminder of how perennially shitty Satan’s due diligence was, so he sent him back to the land of the living. Jack, of course, was eating a pumpkin, needed light for his trip back to earth, and somehow had access to coal, so he stuck the latter into the former and, voila, a tradition was born.

There are a lot of holes in this story, but the bottom line is that Smashing Pumpkins were this band’s favorite band for about half of the 90’s, and it sounds like they’re back.

My fingers are curling into rock horns as I type this, which is uncomfortable. But awesome.

In Speechwriters news, Team Megafauna goes into the studio this week for the sole purpose of recording web demos, and I think I just finished mixing the Monster Camp album. It’s going to be a good summer, I think.

Sorry it’s been so slow around here - I’ve been busy growing a beard, in hopes that it will fasttrack me into some sort of pantheon or something. Results so far: still too early to tell, but it itches like hell, and this is definitely the wrong time of year to be bearded.

Anyways, it’s my birthday tomorrow, and Jack and Riley and I are 24 minutes away from leading a fourteen man team into the wilderness, armed with nothing but our wits and a sack full of bear attractant. We’ll check in from the other side and hopefully have something new for you to listen to.

In the meantime, though, there’s this bear cub I need to milk.

Be safe and love one another,
D

it’s hot outside. lawn mowers are whirring all around. dog tongues are lolling out of dry, smiling jaws. it is too nice out to be listening to the brilliant new album by “the national”, but i can’t help myself. i will certainly need to pick a different soundtrack for my run. i have a powerful thirst for fresh grapefruit juice. i am sure all this is fascinating.

dave has finished the lyrics to one of my top two favorite new songs. once the studio is finished having new guts put in it after the tearing out of old guts, we will go back to recording this first of the eps.

thanks to everyone who came out to see annie beth and dave’s show last week. it was so much fun to see such a random assortment of friends all joined up in a little coffee shop in this beautiful city. we hope to see more of you soon.

lovejack

petsitting two pugs is a first for me. they fart a lot, and they look sort of like little rancors. it takes a while for them to relax. my cat, oscar, is handling this extrememly well.

after work last night, i rode over to a bar i’d never been to. i sipped coffee. ate a burger. read my book. it is important to do this every once in a while.

dave is playing a show tonight with annie beth, who i haven’t seen in ages. since california. she let me sleep in her garage, which was nice. and there is an open offer for surfing lessons, although today is not the day. pugs on a surfboard would be funny in the same way that a squirrel on waterskies is always funny. in the way that hipsters playing basketball or pretending to know the rules of bocce is always funny. think about it - farting pit monsters catching tubes or whatever the hell it’s called! hilarity ensues!

thanks to michelle for the tea suggestions. ginger tea helps, and i have a special barry manilow mug that my sister brought me from vegas, so i would combine the ginger and the manilow and hum “mandy” to myself and thank michelle for the yogi solution.
i am recovered now and can go back to drinking stumptown, which is a huge relief.

reading: murakami’s “after dark”

listening: patrick wolf “the magic position”

feeling: much better, thanks.

i have been the worst kind of sick this weekend. fever rising and falling. cold sweats. lurching stomach (this part has been especially awful). there is an enormous bottle of gatorade in the fridge, saltines and chicken ‘n stars in the cupboard. rasberry jello.

i am going to curl up on the couch and watch joss whedon’s “serenity” and be thankful for the rain and my pajamas and the heating pad with multiple settings. when jonny greenwood recorded the guitar for “planet telex”, he was so ill he played lying on his back in the studio. i tried that yesterday, but kept throwing the hell up. pork and rhubarb. a delicate salad of watercress and pea shoots.
it’s been a chaotic couple of weeks for the band. changes in jobs and travel and physical health and the occasional band mother tripping and breaking her wrist. i’m looking forward to next week when we re-align again.

what do you swear by when you’re not feeling good?

watching: pan’s labyrinth and soon, serenity.

reading: rant

listening: the decemberists “the crane wife”, the field “from here we go sublime”

eating: saltines

playing: something other than the halo 3 beta, which has become a place to run around for 8 seconds before being blown apart by 12 year-old mercenary assholes.

• Pork Impact
• Double O Nothing
• Luther Tudor and the Heartattack Five

Today is a beautiful day and I find myself overflowing with gratitude, both broadcast and specific.

I am grateful to my friend Alex for having his bachelor party in Yosemite rather than Oakland.

I am grateful to my drummer Riley for the thousands and thousands of cents he has just spent upgrading his home studio, which I’m tentatively calling Batcave One.

I am grateful to the ever-rotating Earth for the fact that it is currently May 10th, which means I’m five days away from quitting one of my two full-time jobs and actually having free time again.

I am grateful to all of the beautiful women I have known over the years who will not be needing a Mother’s Day card from me this weekend.

That is all.