Soul

Despite its unorthodox speed-meets-weed compositions, the self-titled cassette [Banned in DC] was essentially a sonic pamphlet for the group's increasingly extensive PMA philosophy."We're the thinking man's punk, so we know our message is that of peace and love and Positive Mental Attitude. That's what we really stood and stand for. In music, we have a background of progression. When I imagine a riff, it's like a big wall falling down. If I pick up my guitar and I say to myself, 'You sellout,' then I say, 'All right, watch this- this is a song about sellouts.' And from there, my imagination will let me create, from my musical experiences, what a sellout introduction riff is going to be. I guess that's a blessing that I have, and me and Doc and Earl and all of us together, that we're able to do this.

The next key is keeping at it.
That's when you advance.
That's when you progress in anything.'"
-Daryll Jenifer of Bad Brains.

Spooky

There is a bottom to everything, even the spooky mysteries of the world. In Russia, the whole notion of the Mafia's subtle meddlings in politics and such fascinated the living daylights out of me. I wanted to learn as much as possible without getting my hands dirty. My efforts eventually paid off. I didn't meet the grand Kossak Wizard of Oz, but did in fact talk to someone actually in the Mafia. Creepy indeed.

Not as creepy as the Satanist I met out and about but that's a B*Side tale for later.

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My mind trumps religion and nature over politics though, and nothing is better than Africa if you're looking for reason escaping organic conundrums. Yikes! They are just about everywhere, from the last dinosaur allegedly in the Congo to a giant snake that lives off cow sacrifices in a lake tucked away in South Africa to the ever popular witchcraft. Witchcraft has somehow survived 200 years of colonization, missionaries, non profit organizations, and globalization to in turn dominate the papers recently here in Uganda. Obama no longer dominates the front headlines thank to a recent good natured incedent of Child Sacrifice that went down a few nights ago here in Kampala. I can't do the article justice, read it for yourself. I went for a walk through the market here in town yesterday and stumbled across the "herbal" alleyt that had all fashions of spears, pipes, animal skins, brown liquids, and jazz like so. How in the world can Africa demand any sort of legitimacy in the global political swing of things when the only obvious step taken toward progress are in the obvious wrong direction? I want a shirt that says Stop Child Sacrifice. Protect and entertain.

The rainy season has ended here and now it's hot every day.

Patti Smith might be the most creative person alive on the planet. I'm certain this is true.

All I Know

What in the world do I know?
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+ Sweatshirt and flip flops are tokens of the best weather imaginable.

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There are no pets here in Africa. Africans beat dogs up. They have no qualms about eating them too. If you seriously walk near or recognition a dog here in Uganda, they will scamper away from you with the same sort of energy dogs in America greet you with. It's sad but true. Africans are not at fault for doing this, it's just the natural result reasoned by the thinking of very simple minds. Africans treat dogs as dogs, plain and simple. People in America pamper their animals in reckless abandon and in turn, the animals develop a learned behavior strikingly similar to their masters. The same is true for us though. CS Lewis once said "God treats men like gods so that they would strive to be like him." The same is true for dogs as well.

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Graphology is my affair of interest at the moment. It blows my mind how often unconscious thoughts are reflected through the simple mediums, like handwriting.

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The Killers new album, Day & Age is rumored to be their very best of their four year career. I actually liked Sam's Town, even though the rest of America wouldn't agree with me. But nothing defines late night new wave pop music like Hot Fuss. The only way to tell if Day & Age tops the previous two releases is if births just as many singles as their debut.
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NME's Cool List of 2008 was worth reading only because of their MGMT entry. I'll save you some time. *2008 saw the words "shamanic" and "cosmic" bandied around more recklessly than at any time since 1973, and it was primarily down to MGMT's bandana-clad frontman, the blissed-out figurehead for a new generation of inner-vision voyagers.*
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True beauty is a free spirit.
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Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.

-CS. Lewis-

Gobama

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The day after Obama won the election, Kenyan newspaper The National ran the headline "We Did It". Africa didn't do anything. Obama can't and won't conjure up spotless roads and solve african hunger. Africa can only solve this problem. Poverty will only be eradicated without the help of any foreign aid if only Afican leaders should stop laundring money overseas to fill ther foreign accounts. Leaders need to understand that they are public servants and should be held responsible of misappropriate of public fund. Obama clearly understands the problem even though the rest of the world views Africa as a waste of time. The next President of the United States of America is a smart man who knows not to stash cash on a sinking life raft.

Sphere

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Michael Crichyon died yesterday in Los Angeles at the age of 66. He is best remembered for his fantastic bestsellers "Sphere", "Rising Sun", "The Andromeda Strain", and most notably "Jurassic Park". He was also the creator of the very successful television show "ER". Science fiction to him was never some outer space alien invasion phenomenon, but real life science with a twist that always intrigued and always stirred up controversy. Sexual politics, medical and scientific ethics, anthropology, archaeology, economics, astronomy, astrology, quantum physics, and molecular biology all personally interested him. Nothing was too prosaic or obscure for his liking and his greatest quality was breathing life into the world's mysteries of science. Steven Spielberg was a friend for over 40 years. "He was the greatest at blending science with big theatrical concepts, which is what gave credibility to dinosaurs again walking the Earth. Michael was a gentle soul who reserved his flamboyant side for his novels. There is no one in the wings that will ever take his place."

Janks

“Men of integrity, by their very existence, rekindle the belief that as a people we can live above the level of moral squalor. We need that belief; a cynical community is a corrupt community.”

- John W. Gardner, American writer & Secretary of Health

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It's hailing in Uganda right now.

No kidding.
The picture of things here in Uganda is begins to come to light and believe me when I say that it is truly ridiculous. Every day shines light upon another shade of bedlam that defines modern Africa. The root of all this tomfoolery is hard to put a finger on, but I'ma gonna try my best.
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Uganda is flat out backwards. Driving to school in the morning captures a beautiful picture of how things work here. They don't work. Traffic lights actually work but their only purpose is decoration, since no one pays any attention at all to them. Policemen stand at the rim of traffic circles and furiously blow their whistles at cars, showing drivers to putter This way! around the circle, acting like their job has some sort of a purpose at all. Since not many folks can afford a car, most people walk but its not really walking. They seem to walk as slowely as possible, as if they have nowhere to go. This slow canter pace perfectly complements the Ugandian tendency to completely disregard social cues, like "Hey, I can stroll with ease across street since those cars are absolutely going to stop for me." So many accidents happen every single day from simple minds thinking like so. On average, 12 to 20 people die weekly on Entebbe Road, my road traveled on the way to school.

Outrageous.
It all seems to string back to this notion I've noticed ever since Day One.
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African, specifically Ugandians, have this off way of seeing life. The gift of life is without a doubt everywhere in Africa, but is taken for granted at the very same time. I believe this to be true because of the African tendency to act only in accordance to the primative inclination of human nature. With the influence of other social variables like tribalism, one big furious mess rises to the surface. Ugandian men here work maybe four hours a day, no kidding, which is a number halfed by the number kids they end up having. No lie. Women in Uganda bless the world with an average amount of 5.8 kids in urban areas and a gross 7.1 kids in rural areas. No worries though, right? The killer is that the Mom & Pop Mgabe end up denying any responsibility for raisin the raisins because they have faith in the "tribe". Communial living will take care of it all, no doubt. The rudeness is that it obviously never happens. Life is everywhere but completely disregarded. USAID estimates that 1.1 million children are orphaned by HIV alone in Uganda, let alone negligence. These children grow up and again it begins.
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I'm not meaning to harp or gloat over all this plight in Africa, god forbid make fun of the struggle here. I'm just being honest. What I call out is just fingerfood in the menu of follies here. The same goes for every issue. Something always lies beneath the surface.

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Yesterday, a giant gas tanker steered sharply to miss a motorcycle zipping through traffic and surged into two bustaxis, both of which were carrying 18 passengers, four past the maximum limit. 37 people died in total and 60 people were injured. Eyewitnesses rushed to the scene but not to aid the injured. Instead, they looted the dead and the alive, and filled up their pots and pans up to the brim with the leaking gasoline.
That has nothing to do with poverty and squalor. That's a host of character flaws and an overall moral indifference that very much has to do with poverty and squalor. Africa would be best to stop pointing fingers and adopt a Pro Active approach toward fixing their profilthy dillema. Morality is the cornerstone to cultural sustainment, not just some custom snatched up in passing.

These

sooo badly.
P.O. Box 9242 Kampala, Uganda
Ha!
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"I've changed music four or five times.
What have you done of any importance other than be white?"
Miles Davis attended a reception in honor of Ray Charles at Ronald Reagan's White House in 1987. This was his reply to a Washington society lady seated next to him who had asked him what he had done to be invited.
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"Try taking the fucking horn out of your mouth."
Miles Davis was questioning the increasing length of John Coltrane solos,
and Trane answered "I don't know how to stop."

Kids

Friday ends my week on the job here at the International School here in Kampala. I'm just a simple teaching assistant helping out in the library and in PE, my two favorite classes in elementary school so it's a good fit. Early mornings but fast internet, cheap food, endless basketball, and something to look forward to every day. The three other bedrooms at the house save home I'm haunting are now all cleared out and empty, so things aren't as exciting as they used to be. But with a library now in my life, I'm getting my read fixxx so that's sweet like treats.

The International School has close to 500 students in grades PK--12 and hosts 53 different nationalities, so it's truly International. They also incorporate the IB curiculum, which is similar to AP but they find some common thread to link all the classes together. For example, the fifth graders played flag football in PE yesterday, but since they are studying systems of government in class, it was Anarchy Flag Football. We just gave them flags, belts, and a football and told them Have at it, No rules. It was hilarious. Fifth graders are just raw human nature. Boys made touchdowns 100 points, but only the girls made them -10. Its wild and I love going home tired every night. The school is glad they finally have someone who can best relate to seven year olds.

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Bodas are the only way to travel here. It's the African peer of the Russian Gypsy taxi. Basically a strapping young vagrant on a motorcycle, who racially profiles customers and bought a driver's license instead of earning it. You get places fast, but you sometimes wonder if you'll ever see your final destination. I'm not just refering to the Boda's sincere concern for your welbeing. I responsibly slept in on Wednesday and my ride flat out left me. I was stuck to fend for myself and I asked a Boda for a lift. Fifteen minutes later, some geezer straight hit me in the head with a broom handle. It done knocked me off the boda onto a 8 AM traffic bumper and last night's rain puddle. I"m laying on the ground and this old man is standing over me going for the knockout shot with his Moses staff and I'm just like "Another day in the life...." I kicked his arm, grabbed my backpack, and hopped back on my astonished Boda driver, who now feared for his life since some Most Wanted fugative was riding behind. He just drove faster to get me off and out of his sight. I needed ice and had a headache all morning. Let's be frank. I love something completely different but I have no idea why Pops took a swat at me Wednesday morning.

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I just finished my first college application.

Mastodon has a new album coming out.

Coachella rumors are in full swing.

(Strokes Bowie Misfits Outkast Killers Zeppelin)
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The Stooges-Down On The Street

Sunshowers

So I can't ever write when I need to "should have brought a computer" but so it goes. I just got back from up north, helping figure out what needs the local primary schools are lacking. As you can imagine, it was hawt.  Africa is lovely, but it has a few problems, just like everywhere else in the world. Uganda has close to fifty different tribes scattered across the country, which is at least fifty different languages and a whole lot of divide. Politics becomes impossible because it's just a giant scramble to the top, by any means possible. Aid grants never reach their intended market and end up as defense spending to assure the low people in high places their ill begotten positions won't go anywhere. But times change and that was then. 

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Outside of staying busy around here, I'm having to apply to college for the second October in a row. More on that later. Even though it's Africa, Kampala seemingly has forty times more Americans than Moscow, which hopefully won't change anytime soon. 

The free spirited air around here makes everyone a bit more friendly than usual too. Southern ethics are all over the place, except when the taxis take you for a fool. There are plenty of happenings and meeting people is doomed to be interesting. You're pedestaled if you mention Obama to a local.

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As for me, I'm just here in Africa. Out and about, staying busy takes care of thinking too much. But that's not really a problem. A rooster woke me up this morning. The sun is hot and ten feet off the ground. There is plenty to do but no rush. I have two books to finish. 

Everything's in its right place.

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Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra-Beaten Metal

No Age

What in the world do I know? Not much, but that's one thing tomorrow is good for. Know yourself. As the philosopher Matthew always stresses, the unexamined life isn't worth living. What about Afrika? I'm figuring that out as it comes. Uganda is hawt like Russia's not, and busy like none other. I'm slowly getting my feet on the ground and it's a surprise like none other. Today was my first day as a teaching assistant at the International School here in Kampala. It went pretty well too, which is such a big surprise. Hopefully it will stay like so. But you never know. I just can't do enough here, be it good or otherwise bwahha.
Afrika is so full of life, but since it's everywhere at once, it's almost taken for granted.
Hopefully I'll elaborate more in the future, but I just don't know much at all. Everything I learn every day just reminds me more of the obvious. It's obviously hot here.
I don't know much.
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Tom Vek- Nothing But Green Lights

Ugan

Like the Constant Gardener, I'm absolutely in Africa. The gettin' there is always the fun part and it was certainly no without dramatics. I was to fly from Moscow to Belgium on Brussels Airlines, spend the night in Brussels, and then weather a lazy fast 12 hour fight to Entempe, Uganda.
Drama first reared it's pointy teeth in the Moscow airport. I had to take a taxi to the airport because my train was missed thanks to a fascist protest right in front of my subway station. When I got to the airport, the unexpected just got more colourful.
The luggage requirements flying to Africa is two bags weighting a max of 48 kgs. That's cool, because my two baskets of tricks weighed in nicely at a safe 40 kgs. That's been true for flights everywhere so far. But Belgium Airlines messes everything up by saying flying transeuro requires not 46 kgs of luggage, but 20 kgs. So I flew to Belgium with a sweater, a sweatshirt, and a North Face on, with jeans in my jacket pocket and a pair of shoes in the sleeve.

I didn't have to pay 280 euros though.

Surprisingly, I'm not getting to a computer very much here, so my blogspots aren't a frequent as usual. Never fear, I'm trying to make it happen. I'm four days into Africa and have already been to a reggae throwdown, seen a woman struck and perhaps killed by a car, taken a traditional African dance class, shaken hands with the president of Uganda, and attended the Ugandian National Prayer breakfast. Staying busy, but that's not half of it. I get to safari tomorrow.

Here goes nothing.

Sun God

The lights go out here in Moscow tomorrow at 4:00. I fly to Belgium, spend the night in Brussels, and then weather a 12 hour flight to Uganda. It's 85 degrees there right now. I haven't a clue what's waiting on me besides black mambas, but that's just exciting. 

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I can't really wrap my mind around all that's happened over the past three months just yet. It's not like some huge change suddenly swooped down and showed me the light. I'm not sackcloth and ashing and I don't have a third arm. Sleep is still as difficult as Sitting Still. People still have to tell me "Shhhh." I simply love snakes. That's hilarious. But seriously....

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One of the great things about being malcashed is that the whole Financegedon mess in the United States doesn't touch matter much to you. When my life calls for more, I will grow it. Exponentially. But not now. Money makes you numb.

You never truly know what's important in life under everything is taken away. I am blessed to have the opportunity to stand back from real time and look at the mess I've made so far. Mess might not be the right word but who's to say? 

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What about Africa?

A typical Black Mamba is 8 to 9 ft long, can slither almost 14 miles an hour, and is Top Five most deadliest snakes in the world. I'll let you know how that hurts.

Ethiopia is the birthplace of Rastafari and apparently has the Ark of the Covenent. 

You can buy a beer in Uganda brewed from bananas.

32% of Africa is wilderness.

A giraffe gives birth standing up.

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It's time to leave the man village and make something happen.

so I can learn to be like someone like you.

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True Fan

A true fan of music brings his own iPOD to concerts. 

Thanks Hipster Runoff

Be Somebody

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That band from Nashville just topped the album and singles charts in the UK for the week of September 28. Only By The Night sold 220,000 copies, second to Coldplay's release in first week sales of the year. I love the Kings of Leon, and they will never break through the market in the United States. The Followills are not Urban or Wannabe Country. Britney Spears and the divas debut dreadful dance diasters at Number One but it's a limited exhibition. Their records won't go diamond or even double platinum. Radio in the United States has no enthusiasm and the UK still has a cohesive market. If you can get airtime, congradulations you've made it. The Kings of Leon have suave energy that's perfect for the UK market, as well as discerning audiance. They make great music and they will never make it here in the United States. 

The music here is mostly cut and dry, garagebanded and ghostwritten by the same usual suspects that are so far behind on the times. I love the Kings of Leon.

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This ingrained culture sway poisons elsewhere as well. M.I.A's album Kala was released in August 2007 to widespread acclaim, finishing on many of the year's Best Albums list including the Number One slot in Rolling Stone and Blender magazine. But the highest place the lead single "Paper Planes" received worldwide was #18 in the Belgian singles chart. That was until the trailer for Pineapple Express debuted in July 2008 which incorporated the song. "Paper Planes" soon shot up to #5 on the Billboard Hot 100 charts and a parking space on TRL (RIP). 

Where have yall been?

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M.I.A.-Paper Planes (DFA Remix)

Not Gone

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Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I've been gone a long time but I'm still in one piece and away no longer. I spent four days in St. Petersburg and the highlight was the sunny weather. The city is northwest Moscow and five hours away by train. Train travel isn't glamorous or dangerously exciting, but smart operators humble themselves enough for a nap. Sergey and I must be proud in disguise because we ended up on the unofficial Kidz Kar, so napping was went out the window right before I debated whether or not to jump.

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St. Petersburg is an interesting city. It was stubbornly built in 1703 on top of 48 islands in a swamp near the Arctic Circle and is the "cultural capital" of Russia, which actually means it's the only place in Russia with culture. Honestly. There were a few interesting particulars though. In most cities around the world, the lower class of people usual take up residence on the outskirts of the city, where the cost of living isn't nearly as expensive. St. Petersburg has quite a few older building that are very similar to each other smack dab in the middle of the city. Some bright young thing decided to renovate one, designating nine seperate apartments to each floor, but only one universal kitchen. The big spenders caught on and before long, low income residents dominated the central hub of the city. Fortunately for nightlife, it was mostly cash starved party hard college students that took up residence in these old buildings, thus giving St. Petersburg the unique cultural distinction. 

Blond dreadlocks won't ever look good though.

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I spend four days on my feet, walking around the likes of Peter the Great's summer gardens and the Hermitage, the old royal palace*official museum of Russia located right by the Neva River, which sounds awesome out loud when spoken with a great southern drawwwl. The best part about the four days there was definitely the sunny weather, which apparently is unheard of in St. Petersburg this time of year. Nothing else extraordinary happened though, which accounted for an overall A+ walkabout. I saw The Stooges live too.

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My time here in Russia is closing soon and I'm trying my best to avoid retrospect right now. October 4th will come soon enough though and all my luggage will be under 50 lbs, cuz what I don't need gets left behind. Africa's next. Shake your dreads. 

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Blehh

I still haven't figured out if playing basketball every day is beating a dead horse or not, but it's definitely gotten me sick. Trying to live on Tennessee time probably doesn't help either. This might be my first taste of college right here, being sick away from home. I'm not deathly ill and dying for the need for soup and crackers in bed, with my stacks of Calvin & Hobbes and the Jungle Book at my beckoned call. I'm not missing school either. Life's cheating me a little bit, but no matter. It builds character, but I still feel terrible at the moment. My head feels like fog going through the laundry machine. I eat a biscuit, and then pray I never see it again. No tissues here in Russia, just toilet paper. Tea is good, it just can't make itself. So I'm just around the house today, away from the cold. Cheers. I got to St. Petersburg tomorrow. You know how Tylenol is spelled in Russian? I have no idea. 

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Guy Richie is directing a Sherlock Holmes movie and Jude Law is in it.

Kings of Leon on  Saturday Night Live tomorrow.

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Viva Cuba

It's no lie Russian loves Cuba, whether Cuba likes it or not. The two countries have shared political relations since the Cuban Revolution in 1959, when the Communist Party of Cuba headed by the Fidel Castro took over and established Cuba as the first socialist state in the Americas. Russia immediatly took notice of the sudden red flags down south and maintained notoriously curious snoops in the Caribbean until 1991, right after the Soviet Union toppled. But an elephant never forgets. 

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Two weeks ago, Russia played host to a little flair when four of the biggest names in Cuban music brought the closest thing to sunshine Russia has seen in a spell. It's been a long time since Cuba was brought up to speed at the University of Friendship Between Unamerican Nations and forced to study some extra Marxist dogma here in Moscow. But's that's not to say that Cuban influence in Moscow is completely limited to sunny festivals. Che is hawked here on more t-shirts and buttons than in Central and South America, ironically merchandized by the capitalist consumer culture he hated. But no matter. Russian happenings have been even more present in the news ever since the squabble with Georgia, mainly reporting on how the free world is sticking it back to Russia for "bullying" little Georgia. The European Union postponed talks with Russia. A celebration in Moscow yesterday was cancelled yesterday because the world reknown Scottish bagpipers scheduled to perform were a no show. Moscow has responded by going retro and bringing up the Cold War dark years. One senior military offical was quoted saying Russian nuclear bombers will now begin refueling in Cuba before heading to Russia after world flyarounds. Officials met with Cuban president Raul Castro to discuss possible oil exploration in Cuban waters. Since when did Russia suddenly need to look for oil outside of it's own deep freeze? Nah Russia just wants to be 90 miles away from where America goes to die and Disneyland. 

But what does Cuba think about all this? 

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Unfortunately for Mochba, Cuba is climbing out of life in the past. Cuba is all about summer and Caribbean living. Why bother with being in the middle of US*Russia dramatics? If I wasn't off camping two weeks ago, I would have absolutely been at the Vive Cuba! festival. Buena Vista Social Club is fantastic summer music and seeing them in Moscow would probably be an oxymoron, but who's really keeping score? What my favorite thing about Cuba? The world's largest great white shark was caught in waters off Cojimar, Cuba in 1945. Cojimar is also the very same town where Ernest Hemingway wrote "The Old Man and the Sea." 

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Buena Vista Social Club-El Cuarto de Tula

True Love Waits

My People (D.I.M remix)

The Presets

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Highly Recommended

All My Fault

Every morning, I've got a new chance

-Spoon-

So it's all my fault. I need to write more and make more happenings to write about. The miserable weather outside is waging war against the little bit of resolve I have left to venture around town. It's a balmy 38 degrees outside and it rains on and off, basically whenever I sneak out to see if it's raining or not. To make matters worse, Russia has no drains. The something on every curb that everyone in America takes for granted? Yuh so thanks to awful public facilitating, water pours down every slight incline, making alleys and sideswalk freezing flash floods in an instant. It does wunders for my vans. 

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The guys at the house have flat out given up, so it's usually just me stealing across town for whatever reason. I went to the Golden Bee event one afternoon to run away from a nap. "Moscow's international biennale of graphic design" was pretty interesting to say the least and confirmed some thoughts of my own. Russian artists were second to last in the overal Design catagory, barely in front of Japan. I played basketball with some guys on the best Russian club team here in Moscow. I went with my british friend Mac to an African church on Sunday. I'm finishing up War & Peace just to say I've read it and I'm doing college applications for the second September in a row. Free time is what you make it and I try not to make mine the slighest bit free.

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 A distracted mind simply focuses on too much at once, but every insight is just a figure of imagination until it becomes instrumented and acted on. Bedlam and Chaos don't inspire honest focus in most folks unless they were originally fashioned for a crazy pace. So here I am in the rain, all bundled up, trying to find my way home, mum to asking directions, no longer avoiding the ponds that crater all sorry pavement in Moscow, wandering past the same shoeless drunk who is drinking out the wrong end of the wine bottle again, and lost not only in route but thought as well. The next world stop won't be blessed with monster free time or social options, but it's all good. Same game, been starting.

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I love Outkast

The New York Times has the Palin Worldview.

Lil Wayne can sorta play guitar

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I Love Russia

I've put together a photo parade of reasons why Russia holds a dear spot in my heart.

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And now for something completely different.

-Monty Python-

Good Grief

The weather is on the verge of getting terrible here again and this time it's for good. The average temperature for September is a balmy 11.8 degrees Celcius. That's just autumn too, as in Not Winter. It just keeps getting worse. So what's there to do in Russia amist 50 degrees and rain? Use your imagination. Nothing at all. Cold weather spoils poor traveler's even mo poor social schedule. I'm down to my last english language book, which is unfortunately War & Peace. I don't even care about the romantic notion of enjoying War & Peace in it's homeland, it still reads like the back of a shampoo bottle. My poor social schedule looks even more dismal thanks to the weather. There aren't any more rasta festivals or rap battles in the park on the week's horizon, since there's no sun and cheer.  I'm pretty sure every one especially me is starting to sulk over the weather. 

Nah it's just me. 

The rest of Moscow is thinking, "I'm so happy now. This weather finally gives me a chance to look......even more Miserable."

It's a unromantic version of the Summertime Blues. 

No worries though, cabin fever will set in soon and that will be the death of me. 

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The New York Times recently finished some extended travel feature called the Frugal Traveler's Grand Tour. Some frugal traveler apparently not named Cathy Wallace set out on a 13 week trek across, above, and around 16 different european countries, living off only 100 euros a day, in search of the true roots of Western civilization. Even though he's probably some turtlenecked stiff getting paid four times more than his daily financial self-imposition, he does have some words of wisdom. I might have some words about his words.

-Think like a local

I find it hard to believe that this slice of advice comes as a surprise to people. This is no late night National Geographic deep in the jungle travel secret. It's God given common sense. Are there ever benefits to being glaringly obviously foreign when traveling overseas? Looking, spending, and acting like Spring Break at Disneyland is the obvious invitation to trouble not just in friendly white Europe, but everywhere in the world. People that don't act, spend, and generally think like locals when traveling are just proof that personality checks should be required when applying for visas. 

-Make yourself useful

If the discomfort of travel makes people discover this life lesson, then everyone should throw themselves into the world at one point or another. Making yourself useful applies to situations way beyond working at organtic farms during extended vacations in Europe. Getting involved in the community around you is just an important opportunity for interaction and a way of keeping the mind, y'all. M.I.A. says it best. "Money makes you numb." Get out there and do something, because it's joy to the world and you as well.

-Rely on the kindness of strangers

A definite must when traveling on your own, and a constant reminder of Karma's influence over the daytoday order of things. Even though it's hard to figure out how legit the kindness actually is when you don't speak the same language, it's better to take your chances than be rude. No matter how unknown and horrible it is, just eat it and smile. You only live once.

-Generosity Trumps Frugality

It's no contradiction. Generosity trumps frugality and the generosity of Europeans is outrageous, in the very best way possible. From free meals to rides to even night stays, I've accepted and declined everything under the sun, even from the most frugal businessmen.

-Redefine Europe

I can't really say I'm out to redefine Europe. Russia is hardly European. The only thing Russia might have in common with the rest of Europe is the time zone. I've got nothing to start with  so there is no redefinitions on this trip. Except for maybe me 

Bwahhaha

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Yikes!

Photographer Bill Durgin visits the scene of a horrible yoga accident.

So can you do too.

Look At These

I'm a bit overwhelmed every day by the enormity of Moscow. It's not the amount of people as much as the size. Moscow's official population at around 12 million people but official records only counts legal citizens. During the tussle with Georgia, it was revealed that more Georgians live in Moscow than the entire country of Georgia. Moscow is huge. The socio-political measure of City Proper, which balances city populations with their approximate surface area to create an estimated population density, ranks Moscow as the world's 6th most populated city. 

It done shows. 

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Despite the city's obvious metropolitan sprawl, there really isn't a downtown to Moscow, mostly cuz it's all one big downtown. There is no true Moscow Suburbia. Nashville has about 1,000,000 people that call it home, but the 1,000,000 naturally don't live in the city, hence the moniker Greater Nashville. There is no Greater Moscow because everyone lives inside the city. There are no downtown skycrapers, just several chance clusters scattered about. The land outside the last ring of old Soviet buildings looks like the Panama City beachline. 

It's urban jungle fever and history is to blame. 

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Moscow began serious city clean up under Stalin's reign. The 1935 General Plan for the Renconstruction of Moscow, which involved widening streets and cutting roads through the mess of buildings and meandering lanes that choked major transportation, was created with the intent of urban renewal but the Stalinist ideal of modernism was hardly compatable with the older architecture models. As a result, the roads hardly experienced improvement reagrding transportation and the "curtain" buildings erected were basically pretegious looking facades that hid the wooden sprawl behind it. The fall of the Soviet Union and the financial explosion only seperated the class gap even further, creating in essence Two Moscows occupying the same space. The first is economically oblivious, whose wood shacks and kiosks are proof that architecture is hardly taken into consideration. The second is elite order of Moscow that is struggling to implement it's bottomless limit of exchange toward establishing global credibility through sugar coats of surface-leveled modern architecture. The American equivalent would be the upper middle class trend of buying everything on credit and living three time larger than your income allows you. But the personal consequences of credit are nothing compared to the consequences of Moscow ignoring it's own "big village" status in the ever growing Age of Technology. 

They've got the robot thing down though.

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I had the opportunity yesterday to walk around in the Department of Architecture and Urbanism and that's what got me thinking about all this. They had all these neat setups around the room for building plans and future construction projects, plus a huge to-scale map of Moscow in the very middle. Like I'm talking it was maybe 20 yards deep and wide and was covered with tiny detailed trees, houses, people, cars, etc. The presentations closest to the entrance dominated the scene, with choice lighting emphasizing extremely detailed models or future skycrapers and business offices, the main one is shown below with the train plus it's really near my house. To me, all the mirrored glass skyscrapers and postmodern architecture designs seemed like one big Russian reminder to itself that "yes! now we can be taken seriously", with a giant blind eye to the physical reality of delapidation, which are very literal reminders of what should be recognized and addressed, not ignored. 

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I don't even rap anyway, I rob.

Double Take

The lure of Moscow draws me every time. I can't look away.

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The Streets-Irony Of It All

Strange Wilderness

I was trying to make you feel better and you hit me in the head!

 Now there's a bump on my head. It looks like a dinosaur egg. 

If that dinosaur hatches, people are gonna think I'm some sort of prehistoric gentleman bird.

-Strange Wilderness-

So I just got back from a week of camping at the Black Sea. The camping notion has never really moved me. Lord knows I make my fair share of mistakes but I'm not a fan of intentional digression, and camping to me seems like a notion for gumps that prefer the simplicity of living a few life steps backward. Camping might as well be called Staring because it's what's happening, besides sweating. After John Blonde's wedding in Krasnodar, we all piled in twelve cars and bounced three hours to some peninsula on the Black Sea. After the tents were all set up, everyone started madly collecting firewood, only to make soup in return.  Soup is not the ideal camp food, but no one told Russia. The American camping spirit grills out and doesn't like to clean up, so all that's left over from a meal can just go in the fire, be it bones and napkins or Krispy Kreme boxes. That's about my speed.

The beach pretty much looked like a Charleston or Mobile beach except grasshoppers became the new crabs. The same weekday warriors swarmed the place though, complete with strollers and watermelon. There were noooooo waves. The dirty surf was filled with rocks and the water wasn't freezing, but cold enough to wake guys up at the aquatic moment of reckoning. A Russian trail of life stretched for miles down the bench and it was more subtle than just the vodka bottle litter around. The little Vlads haven't mastered the concept of sandcastles yet, so there were Herbie shaped lumps of wet sand piled for miles like African termite hills. I had no idea snakes were even in Russia until I stumpled across three on one beach stroll. Walking the beach was my vacation on vacation because I couldn't take the whole Swiss Family 300 air around camp. The Russian guys fellowshipped all day long, so I walked quite a bit.

I survived too.

The best part about the whole week was seeing the heavens at night. There actually is a few benefits to being out in the middle of nowhere on a beach. The Milky Way graced the entire sky at night and it just blew my mind.  

There is nothing more frightening and beautiful than Space.

All in all, the sun, the beach volleyball, freetime, shells, and the Milky Way made up for the soup, the heat, smoke, the nude, and everything Russian of the trip and I was glad to leave. Me and the two Antons took a bus to Krasnodar, spent the night,  and woke up early again to catch another train to Rostov where we then would fly to Moscow. Since Russia has essentially three months of good weather, the whole country dashes to the Black Sea for the summer and leaves the last week of August, so all the flights from anywhere near the Black Sea were $700+ so we frugally traveled inland. To mostly my dismay, Rostov was hardly frugal.

At this point, it's understood that particular attention to custom service in Russia is flat out made up and should never be hoped for. Corruption should not have to be anticiapted either, but oh well. I had to leave 4000r rubles under a police hat across the airport to avoid two days in jail because I was traveling with a "unregistered" passport. 

That's bullshit, it's just cuz I'm black.

Bros

and I survived a bro week of camping at the Black Sea.

Panda Bear-Bros

Animal Planet

I leave for Krasnodar tomorrow to go camping at the Black Sea. It won't be nearly as much fun as LARPING or Live Action Role Play, but I'll pass the time by watching grass grow or something daring!

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Yesterday I took off on a venture in southern Moscow to the Uzkow Estate, which is now happily a sanitarium. The giant stone manor on the hill was gorgeous, as were the surrounding gardens and ornamental lakes and suc, but it didn't really sit with me very well. The tall white trees and the 200 year old kookie monster house made the place pretty creepy, so I didn't poke around the hundred acre woods for long. But what made the whole trip especially creepy was not only the sanitarium, or the transvestite nature enthusiasts, or the LARPers larping, or the fact that the Uzkoe cathedral now houses some of Hitler's library, but the fact that exactly one year ago this month police arrested Alexander Pichuskin, a man later convicted of killing 62 individuals in this Uzkoe Estate forest. That's one individual for every square on the chessboard. Police could only prove 43 of the supposed 62 instances, so I watched where I stepped.  I went a dinosaur museum afterwards to get cheered up and reassured, because nothing reassures you more of the gift of life than real live dinosaur bones. Nuahh.

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Pray that my nature siege next week is this exciting

College

Pinto: What's your major?

Pinto's date: Primative cultures.

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For everyone off to school this week, I wish you the best of luck! 

I'm a year behind but I'm coming up. 

Love.

Brilliant Television

I get by with the help of Harrison The Light Bringing High Priest of Social Revelry & Gladness Ballard. He shared a video with me today, which inspired me to post three brilliant music videos, including his recommendation.

Behold, the Lost Art of the Brilliant Music Video

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Unkle-Rabbit In Your Headlights

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Who in the world is this guy? What is he whispering? And why is he in the tunnel?

You absolutely need to watch this video until the very end. 

You won't be disappointed.

Cut Chemist-1st Big Break

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This acid doused merry go round bboy Daft Punk music video by DJ Shadow's wunderkind Cut Chemist was the first music video ever shot with a 360 degree panoramic lense. 

Lysergic bliss on Mars. Thanks HB.

Bat For Lashes-What's a Girl To Do?

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To date, one of the scariest bits of cinema I have ever seen. The progression of this video completely freaked me out because I had no idea what was coming. The creepiest song about falling out of love is coupled perfectly with a masterpiece of a music video. 

Highly recommended.

From Russia With Love

What do I love about Moscow?

+ Fruit Juice

Russia does fruit so well. Fruit is found everywhere, from random trees to fruit pancakes to in your face courtesy of gypsy fruit vendors. But it's the fruit juice that tops it all. The neighborhood store has an entire aisle dedicated exclusively to fruit juice of many shapes and sizes. But what you say? So does Harris Teeter! Nahh right friends, there are only four aisles in this store. With such a medley, you can't go wrong. Get Juice.

+ Sushi and books before dawn

Moscow is more 24 Hours than New York City, with around the clock bookstores and sushi joints proving it so. Sushi just before dawn? I shouldn't exist but it does. Respublica gives you something to read while you eat as you watch the drunk gymnastics of the nightlife leftovers stumbling home after that CRAZY tuesday night. 

+ Pirated Movies

Who needs Blockbuster when copyright infringement is so easy? As soon as a movie is in theaters here, BAM it's on the street for 100 rubles ($4) with a comlementary google image on the front of plastic oddment. Sound, language, and even content can't really be guarenteed but tis a bargin.

+ Settling matters "Po Chelovechesky"

Bribery and corruption are social variables that are absolutely uncalled for in life if Russia is ever to call itself a truly civilized country. But the fact is, in a society where not playing by the rules is a rule, it makes some sense to go with the flow. Since mankind is inherently flawed, duplicity like this goes down everywhere in the world, but not nearly as obviously blatant as Russia. This is as defining to Russia as Vodka is, which should be a breath of fresh air for those concerned with the global political scheme of things, because of philosophical concept of causality known as Karma. There's a flip side to everything Russia.

+ The Metro

In a country where few things run on time, the speed and efficiency of Moscow's Metro is truly  a wonder. How many countries have metro stations that double as museums? In fact, the Moscow metro holds the distinction of having the largest ridership in the world. 8 million people a day get to and from work relatively without a hassle, not counting aggressive drunks, power welding policemen, and the occasionaly mob of skinheads. All for only 19 rubles!

+ Absolutely Bizarre Fashion

Of course every city has it's oddities, but no city displays Dada fashionistas better than Moscow. Are you wearing anything under that giant mink coat, sir? A Speedo? Really? In the subway? Right on! Moscow's Alice in Wonderland sense of fashion gives people a grand feeling of impunity, an interactive catwalk besides the mirror at home. Leopard print waist long leather jacket? Definitely authentic in a post-meaningful kinda way.

+ Gypsy Taxis

Try this in Nashville sometime. Stand at the side of the darkest, most out of the way street in Belle Meade at 3am with your hand in the air like your trying to hail a cab or something. You'll be standing there for weeks, unless a friendly Bufford T. Justice rolls your way first. Try it in Moscow and within minutes a 1985 Soviet style Lada will roll up with the window down and three gold teeth and a cigarette will ask "Vam Kuda?" Just go with it, because "Vam Kuda" is a invitation to be ignored elsewhere in the world. Love cheap gypsy taxis.

+ Beer in Movie Theaters

When Jules wows Vincent in Pulp Fiction by telling him that the French can drink in movie theaters, you looked at your kabillion dollar Diet Coke with jealousy and disappointment. There's nothing like a cold beer to help you deal with the fact that the people in the theater that aren't talking to there friends are talking on their cell phones. 

More to come.

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Sun music for the last of Summer

T.Rex-Mambo Sun

Magic

It's still summer here in Moscow and the overall pace isn't really different than anywhere else in the world. Everything's a bit slower. I have trouble keeping to myself when people complain about the red roasting 75 degree heat everyday. There's even a breeze. Soo miserable. I've found some outdoor basketball courts in my venturing and it is absolutely worth the two hours it takes to unlose myself from the maze of subways. It's enough just watching the Eurobros and their mullets go at each other. Getting in on the fray is a different story, but I've managed to hold my own. Strange glances are just one of the many affinities I've gotten used to.

I've been keeping up with the Olympics pretty well, only because the other news to read is War. The politics of the Bejing Olympics have been just as unbelievable as the athletics, not in the awe  inspiring Wow Did He Just Do That Michael Phelps unbelieveable sense, but in the What Is Really Going On Here rationale. For example...

* The darling nine year old Lin Miaoke who sang so enchantingly at the opening ceremony actually lip synched the entire song. The original voice, seven year old Yang Peiyi, got the shaft from officials because she just wasn't cute enough for China's desired image under the world's discerning eye. 

* The spectacualar fireworks the world viewed from their boobtube during the opening ceremony turned out to be digitally inserted, because not all of the lights and colors witnessed by all in attendence could be "successfully captured" when rendered through a camera lense.

* China's grand flag atop a flagpole in the main statium waved gently in the breeze for all to see, never mind the fact that hardly a breeze could be felt at all, since the flag's grandiose was powered by a hidden airblower. 

* Olympic organizers are now admitting to the fact that the reason you don't see many open seats at some of the lesser known events (synchronized gymnastics!) is because a herd of volunteers are rounded up on the spot to fill available seats in choice camera angles.

* What about the Cute as a Panda Bear Chinese Gymnastic's team? Local papers all over China have reported uncovering census documents and such that state the actual age for almost half the girls on the team is around 14, maybe even 12, and definitely not the required age of 16. Even so, they all weigh about as much as Tinkerbell. Perception is everything, and I suppose a little chicanery here and there doesn't hurt. 

In the 2004 Olympic Games, Luciando Pavarotti lip synched at the opening ceremonys. But he was old and large and ill and no one seemed to mind because it was still amazing and technically the same person. He could have entered a what? Olympic catagory like synchronized gymanstics and no one would have minded. But the Bejing hijinks are different and perception is everything. Let's pretend that you get off the plane in Bejing and all you see around you is air. But there isn't a single gulp of oxygen to found anywhere. 

What you see isn't always what you get. 

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Michael Phelps listens to Lil Wayne "I'm Me" before eight gold medals.

The genius of Miles Davis explained.

White House DJ battle

Arounds