andrew_jorgensen

I think this was the first ATPo Gathering at which people called each other by their given names more often than by their posting names. One could argue that this signifies greater bonds of intimacy growing across what had been a rather anonymous medium, or one could mention that going from the Board to LJ means that we have trouble dealing with the plethora of polynyms -- I, for one, can never keep that c_mantix/Aquitaine/Lorraine stuff straight (especially since the dead useful "El" has been recently repossessed by its original referent). I certainly believe that there was this year an even greater closeness among us, and not just the eight of us sharing that one shower. (Not at the same time.) I surprised myself a few times opening up to people; I'd like to thank atpotch and ann1962 in particular for their patience and empathy, though I have to acknowledge that where it counted most I fell back into my own deathly taciturnity. I also surprised myself by stepping past my usual reservations and self-consciousness and singing lustily along to "Once More With Feeling," though it did not help my confidence at all when masqthephlsphr, sitting directly to my front, started complaining about her headache and muttering to cactuswatcher darkly something about flatness. Considering that I was pleased when I managed to end a line in the same key in which it began, I'm afraid flatness too optimistically suggests that my voice and the music were even in the same three-dimensional space. Now that I've ruined what pleasant memories people have of the musical, next year I'm sure there will be raised a hue and a cry for the audience-participation airing of "Hush," just to guarantee I keep my mouth shut for forty-two minutes.

But I get ahead of myself. I left Cleveland last Wednesday evening on a delayed night flight to San Francisco; by the time I'd rented the car and driven to the hotel it was 2:15 California time, or about six hours past my bedtime. I did take a perfunctory earful at the door TCH, Rob (buffyannotater) and scrollgirl were staying behind, trying to pick up any spawnful burbles, but luckily reached it during a rare lull and resignedly retreated to retire. Thursday morning, I reach the breakfast room in time to meet atpolittlebit, ladystarlightsj and Aqui, who has brazenly taken someone else's hash browns. We talk of much, and confirm that my Zachary's fetish will hold sway for our lunch plans. We then go wake the kids. I had worried about making the long drive to Tahoe without company, but TCH agreed to do his spawnial duty and ride with me. And once all got a gander of the red Dodge Charger muscle car I was driving, there was much envy and jealousy, which kept being expressed through the stuffing of spare luggage into what became known as its three-body trunk. Rob slid into the back and ( we roared north on 101 )

I haven't done one of those gratuitous icon posts for a while, having spent very little time making icons recently (though more time making icons than updating my LJ). Here are a few userpics I've made in the last few months.

The strange thing is I didn't even have to download this episode to get the screencap:



"Hey Sweetheart! Whatcha got in that Poodle Gun? Anything for me?"



Using VirtualDub (as opposed to ActualDub) to grab frames of animation has made me respect how much animators rely on loops of sometimes as few as four repeated frames; imitation is one of the more sincere forms of respect.



Comics are even easier to screencap than television!



(In the original it's "I'm afraid I can't understand a word you're saying . . . I don't speak Fascist" which has a devastating power I can't fit into that little word balloon.)

And, finally, a caduceus!



That leaves two slots open. Maybe I'll figure out how to make borders before I've filled my allotment.

A gratuitous icon post, for this:



Some might remember that I exclaimed "Icon!" when we reached this moment (just after Flash has accidentally fired several Thanagarian missiles into the east wing of Wayne Manor) in our viewing of "Starcrossed" at the last ATPo Gathering. And here we are, only eight months later!

This icon was an unintended consequence of my recent dalliance with BitTorrent. Before, making my own screencaps was a laborious process involving a camcorder, a memory stick, and technical assistance from Rube Goldberg. Now, it's just a matter of PrntScrning the right frames in VirtualDub.

I could go on about the technical process, but what most interests me is that I managed to misquote Batman. What he actually says in the episode is "That's not helping!" I have managed to make a statement more antisocial than that made by a semi-psychotic, overly violent loner.

( And, indeed, looking at my icons . . .  )

I finally put my bittorrent client to the purpose for which it was downloaded and have been watching the sublime second season of Justice League. This leads me to a technical question and an impractical thought. First, for those who frequently download torrents, what download speeds are you getting? I understand that this differs from torrent to torrent, and obviously would have to directly relate to the speed of one's connection. Secondly, for those who are fans of Justice League(  Spoilers for "Twilight," "Only a Dream," "Starcrossed" )

.

Justice League Unlimited just totally ripped off "Soul Purpose".

***
Rick James has died at age 56 of natural causes. Though one would assume with Rick James that it wasn't so much natural causes as a long, polyrhythmic concatenation of extraordinary causes.

I was thinking about Rick James a few days ago, even before I heard of his passing, as I was reflecting on "lost albums," those records which were made but never released. Certainly the lost album I most wish to hear is the album James made with his mid-sixties Toronto band The Mynah Birds. The Mynah Birds were, with Bobby Taylor and the Vancouvers, one of Berry Gordy's first salt-and-pepper signings in his attempt to find an interracial group that could, like Booker T. & the M.G.'s, bridge the gap between soul and rock markets. The group came down to Detroit and recorded an album, but the album was stored away after it was revealed that James, the group's lead singer, was at that point AWOL from the US Navy. Gordy always demanded that his artists maintain a certain image of wholesomeness, and he suggested to James that he go and serve his debt to society; there might be a place for him at Motown when he had fulfilled his other responisibilities. It took James twelve years to return to Motown; in the meantime, his bassist and guitarist, Bruce Palmer and Neil Young respectively, decamped for California where they hooked up with Stephen Stills and formed Buffalo Springfield. At least one person who has heard the album has called it "Holland-Dozier-Holland with twelve-string guitars." Others have said that you can't hear much of Young's guitar on it at all -- of course, I'd rather listen to the Funk Brothers anyday.

A different album has recently reappeared from the mists of memory: the album John Kerry made with his high school garage band The Electras (certainly one of the three or four greatest surf bands ever to come out of New Hampshire) will be hitting stores soon. From what I've heard of his bass playing, Kerry is competent if unremarkable; of course, he recorded the album in 1962, well before John Entwhistle and Larry Graham emerged with the idea that a rock bass player could be more than competent if unremarkable. Tom Feran (who ends his column with a pun unbefitting a former editor of The Harvard Lampoon) asked a local Cleveland DJ and a local garage band to review the album; their reaction could be summed up as "Kerry was a root note bassist - pretty simple, but that's what you're supposed to do with that style." Entertainment Weekly got The Hives to offer another review:

The bassist is a solid foundation, a good person. Maybe bass players don't have the strongest leadership qualities, but they are good at negotiating, they have a basic fairness, which is very important if you're gonna run a country.

All of which I'd be fine with at this point. But though I don't want to seem overly enthusiastic about Kerry, I do have to point out that occasionally the bass player turns out to be Bootsy Collins.

Bootsy's Rubber Band: "Psychoticbumpschool (Live)" (YouSendIt.com)