The Big Pixel

Nevermind last night, I've got other things to talk about. You understand, my job is shift-work. You work eight hours, you get paid hours—you work four, four. The last two weeks I worked a total of eighty hours, and was paid for sixty-eight of them. WHAT? WHAT!! Hey, my manager has shown us a fantabulillion times that he doesn't give a rap. He's a bit of a sociopath, alright? I'm not going to say that he has bits of his grandmother stuffed in his closet, but he's probably got bits of his grandmother stuffed in his closet. And that's his business, okay? But I mean, come ON! I discuss my shifts near daily with this man. I stare, horrified, at a twelve year old's moustache on this thirty-five year old caucasian male's upper lip. I recite, in a piercing monotone, using simple sentences (proper verbs, proper nouns, the odd conjuction and nothing more, I swear) my weekly limit of hours. I rarely break eye contact. And yet, I habitually get stiffed on my check. Result? Complaining, bitterness, and protracted disgust are forming the backbone and construction of my days. Don't get bogged down, you say? Take a look at the bigger picture, you say? Zounds!

Reading: Can I say enough about this book? Carlyle is a lion. He writes sentences like other men make movies. Fire, action, character, drama, rifles blazing, tragedy, near death and disease. "Figures rise, like phantoms, pale in the dusky lamplight; utter from this Tribune, only one word: Death." Read The French Revolution + Thomas Carlyle.

Listening: Music For Robots (or music.for-robots, old skool kool) has been james bond gold lately, as in the-man-with-the-golden-gun type of gold, all kinds of laughably deadly. And now the Finnish parts of me are all proud, having watched this Scandinavian music video culled from the Robots' site. Pixelated Tom Cruise (Top Gun, Cocktail) or pixelated Patrick Swayze (Dirty Dancing, of course), runs madly on the sidewalk in the rain. There is a parting. There is a coming together. There is true love. The end. Comments on Robots say this video is old. I say it just made best video I've seen all year. If a pixel's worth a thousand words—nevermind. Go watch "The Name Of The Game" + Ural 13 Diktators