Saturday, October 23, 2010

I'm not here anymore!

Feel free to get in on the action at BriScoBlog. I blog there now.

Friday, October 19, 2007

In the Arms of Metis

I was sitting outside with my dreams in tow,
wasting time,
cause I had no place to go.
Sitting next to me,
some one quite clearly insane.
She said to me,
"Things are about to change."

She said to me, that it's about to begin.
She said to me, it's just a question of when.
She said to me (in a tone I can't explain)
She said to me:


She said to me, "others will vie
to control the things you feel,
and control the things you try,
dictate the god you serve,
and the ideas you buy."
Then she said to me:


Intrigued though I was
of her point of view,
I was eager to get back to
my nothing to do.
Besides, what could I learn
from someone so clearly insane?
Then she said to me,
"just let me explain."

She said to me, that nothing stays the same.
She said to me, life is more than pain.
She said to me, in a tone I can't explain,
She said to me:


Then she said to me, "it's about to start for you.
There's only one thing
that you can take as truth.
No matter what they claim,
no matter what they do,
they may have made themselves
but they can't make you.

Now Live."

© 2007 Brian Fuller

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Rejected Band Names

saturday morning mudbath
whiskey and mimosa
turbulent landing
arthritic mummy
politically incorrect joke
utter perplexity
sheer boredom
holographic objections
partial moodity
The fartknocking trumpets
Duke Ellington's BM.
Chester Nutz
Freelance Enablers
Chokes for Fun
Border Patrol Agents....ahahahaha
Pre-packaged pisswater
Motivational Delinquents
Dorothy Mantooth is a Saint

.xlsx owns you

man of mystery

walks in shadows, quietly.

finishes spreadsheets.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

It is, in fact, true

Playing with blog layouts is much more fun than computing the break-even quantity for machine a vs. machine b

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

A Day at the Salton Sea

From the day I first heard its story, I've been fascinated with the Salton Sea, the man-made oasis-turned-tragedy just south of Palm Springs, CA. What was once a vacation getaway for Southern California residents is now a dying system, the unintentional paradise having become known for devastating algae blooms, fish die-offs resulting in millions of rotting fish carcases, and once unpredictable water levels that have destroyed most man-made structures that once hugged the shoreline. According to some very optimistic people, it could be poised to make a comeback. As I prepared for my trip to the body of water once dubbed the 'California Riviera,' I wondered what I would find. Would I be greeted by the amazing views and peaceful tranquility that the Salton Sea Authority says still exist, or will I arrive to find millions of dead and rotting fish in a waterlogged wasteland that few outsiders chose to visit?

I discovered a sad and beautiful place. From the right angles, the Salton Sea whispered haunted poetry of its glory days long ago, but turn your head slightly and the rancid truth comes crashing down, your nose being the victim of an all out assault trouped by the legions of fish rotting quietly along the shore. Sometimes the smell would give them away. Other times, legions of houseflies eagerly announced your arrival upon the next 'school' of fish. Following along the shoreline, you'd sometimes see in the distance beaches of a beautiful porcelain white, beaches more reminiscent of the Florida gulf coast than most that California has to offer. But closer inspection yeilds a grim truth - that's no sand. The sun may have bleached them, and the weather may have broken them into millions of little pieces, but step in the wrong spot and you could find yourself knee-deep in the bones of fish from long ago. At least here the flies and the smell had had their way and moved on to fresher kill.

Just down the road from the Ace and Spades, there was of place of greater tragedy. That buildings should crumble in this deserted wasteland could be expected, but the state park, with its freshly blacktopped parking area and clean, well maintained facilities, looked like a bride standing at the altar, hoping beyond hope that her groom who just said 'no' would suddenly have a change of heart and coming running back down the aisle to reclaim his eternal love.

One could imagine just a few years ago the excitement of the place, the parking lots full of boatloads of fishermen eagerly awaiting launch into the fertile waters, kids playing along the shoreline. The place would have been an oasis nestled in the Imperial Valley. The reality of today is that the buildings not laid to waste by the salty brine of the lake have become victims to neglect. They have died; there was no grace.

Can the Salton Sea be saved? Probably. Will it? Probably not. The problems don't seem insurmountable, but they do seem expensive, and that may be its biggest problem.

More information:

Everybody's favorite knowledge base

The Salton Sea Authority

The Redlands Institute

Plagues & Pleasures on the Salton Sea (a documentary)

Monday, September 10, 2007

A new definition of Dog Days

Flea markets are popular in the south. A few years ago, progress was made. Amid much fanfare, the Limestone County Indoor Flea Market opened. As flea markets go, it's posh: good location, easy parking, clean restrooms (for a flea market) and the best counterfeit Tommy Hilfiger and Coach purses your 'g-Dubs' can gitcha.

But 'Dog Days' is something extra special. If flea markets were an aging rock band, Dog Days would be its return-to-form album. What started apparently as a meeting place for breeders of various livestock and pets has evolved, or devolved depending on perspective, into an orgy of useless junk, old junk, old useless junk, rifles, shotguns, toy guns, and the occasional goat or puppy.

I guess it's true that one man's trash is another man's treasure. For what it's worth, I did find two things I considered buying. One was a grill and headlamp assembly, liberated from an old Jeep (could be an awesome piece of wall art in the ultimate man room or fantasy garage), and some mechanical contraption that appeared to be one part dune buggy, one part quad, and two parts bad-ass...but then I'd have no way of getting them back to Los Angeles and no where to put them.