"Men are born for games...

...Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. He knows too that the worth or merit of a game is not inherent in the game itself but rather in the value of that which is put at hazard. Games of chance require a wager to have meaning at all. Games of sport involve the skill and strength of the opponents and the humiliation of defeat and the pride of victory are in themselves sufficient stake because they inhere in the worth of the principals and define them. But trial of chance or trial of worth all games aspire to the condition of war for here that which is wagered swallows up game, player, all.
Suppose two men at cards with nothing to wager save their lives. Who has not heard such a tale? A turn of the card. The whole universe for such a player has labored clanking to this moment which will tell if he is to die at that man's hand or that man at his. What more certain validation of a man's worth could there be? This enhancement of the game to its ultimate state admits no argument concerning the notion of fate. The selection of one man over another is a preference absolute and irrevocable and it is a dull man indeed who could reckon so profound a decision without agency or significance either one. In such games as have for their stake the annihilation of the defeated the decisions are quite clear. This man holding this particular arrangement of cards in his hand thereby removed from existence. This is the nature of war, whose stake is at once the game and the authority and the justification. Seen so, war is the truest form of divination. It is the testing of one's will and the will of another within that larger will which because it binds them is therefore forced to select. War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god...."

A few months ago my mom decided to try to treat herself on her birthday to a pair of tickets to see Saturday Night Live. She was lucky enough to actually get a pair of seats on her actual birthday, which is pretty snazzy. Probably not blogworthy except for the fact that the musical guest was Modest Mouse. Hearing your mom come home and say "Wow, that Mouse band was pretty good. Your aunt and I really like them. Have you ever heard them? Were those pretty girls playing the Moraccas in the band?" So after six years of Mouse adoration, my mom gets to see them live before me. I actually considered suicide for a few minutes when this all occured because I'd temporarily lost all faith in the universe to function in a logical manner. I snapped out of it, however, when I rememberd that I've never really had all that much faith anyway. *

On the suggestion of one time blogger Paul and the likes of Penny Arcade and all of the other loonies I know personally or digitally I picked up Katamari Damacy for the Playstation 2. The game is just straight up fucked up. Read the synopsis on Gamerankings I linked above. If you see it, buy it... it's only $20 and hard to find, I'm told. *

I've made the decision, for all of the right reasons, to keep my short-term post-graduate life right here in Wayne, NJ. My plans for grandoise far-away cities and such have been negated by the fact that there's no better place than this part of the country to begin a career... and the fact that living at home for a bit will allow me to choose a job I want based on how much I like it rather than its short term earnings potential. Besides, I've already lived in some of those other places and have found that once the luster wears off, it's still the same ole BS. So let's hit up the diner on our way down to the shore after a night of clubbing in the city because I'm a bona-fide Jersey-ite again: Disco fries. Well done with gravy on the side please. *

There's also music on the horizon again. This much I can confirm. And no, this time I'm not going to fuck it up. --

6:16AM and the count is currently 254 to 252 but just about everyone is reporting a Bush victory. Kerry's people are adament and dispatching lawyers as expected, but it's not like last time and hopefully won't take as long as last time to be decided.

The last thing I heard before going to sleep last night was that 17% of of voting population were between the ages of 18-29, the much hyped youth vote. Guess what that percentage was in 2000? Yup, 17%. No one seemed to think that the increased in youth vote would be offset by an increased in stubborn conservative grandma's that haven't votes since 1984.

So it holds true. My generation knows how to whine and make a lot of noise. But when push comes to shove are ultimately lazy and dissapointing.

Weak.

Greetings. I hope everyone took a few minutes out of their day to go and vote today. My candidate won my state, which was one those pesky battle ground states... so it feels good to have participated for the first time. Now I just have to hope that the rest of the country follow suit. *

I was finally settling in to my job here in New York. Just about ready to start looking for apartments in Manhattan and begin this supposedly wonderful post-graduate life I've been waiting for my whole life. No more than 48 hours before I had solidified my desire to become a Manhattanite did I find out that my job had been outsourced to Paris and that if I wanted to keep it, I'd have to move there. Thing is, I don't know French. And Paris is expensive. And they eat fucking snails. And... well, shit... I didn't want to move to fucking Paris. While I can still remain employed at my current job well into the new year, the fact that it was a ticking time bomb has sorta soured my current mental state. The positive of not having to give a good goddamn about my work performance doesn't offset the prospect of unemployment quite as much as Office Space or Fight Club might have you believe. Dreading the process of Monster.com and the goddamn Sunday New York Times I decided to hit up all of my former employers and see what they had brewing in the pipeline. Fortunately, one of them turned up a very good opoortunity. However, that opportunity just happens to be in Atlanta. Now don't get me wrong... I love Atlanta. I loved living there for six months and I know I'd enjoy living there for a longer period. I guess I'm just kinda torn about the fact that for the first time in my life I don't feel like leaving my friends. Or my family. Or my girlfriend. I've done that a million times before and everytime it's been a crazy adventure. Unfortunately, where I sit right now I'm just not in the mood for an adventure. And I guess that sorta goes against everything I've done for the past five years... moving to Boston... doing internships in Georgia and Ohio... but I had grown very ok with the fact that I would be living in New York for a few years, close to friends and family and almost indefinitely settling down near the place I grew up. Thrusting myself into uncertainty at this time in my life is a mix between exciting and frightening and I'm not 100% how I feel about it yet...

Jesus... It's just an interview and I'm acting like I have the job already. Excuse my poor blogging, I'm rusty. --

You see, the thing is, blogger is blocked from the PC's at my new(ish) job. I essentially wake up at 5:45am, commute my ass to The Port Authority by bus and don't arrive home until just before 8PM. By that time I'm trying so hard to squeeze all of my little "chores" into the course of a few hours just to hit a reasonable bed time. Blogging takes a back seat, is what I'm saying.

However, I am definitely not willing to let this little outlet go. It's meant too much to me over the years and I know for a fact that I can make it important to me again. I don't plan on living at home in Jersey and commuting into the city for too much longer. And once I can cut my commute down by a large amount, I'll be back in front of here kicking like back in the day, only a bit more mature-like. Ya dig?

So, until then.. check back every once in awhile. I do plan to try and hit in.circles sporadically until my full scale return. Who knows, maybe Paul will write something, too. Or Jimmy. *

The Sox are creaming the Yanks as I write. Hell has surely frozen over. --

MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES. REALLY. WRITING HERE HAS TAKEN A BACKSEAT TO JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW AND IT'S GROWN TO BE A BIT OF A JOKE. HOWEVER, AFTER LOTS OF THINKING, I AM MAKING ONE (NOT QUITE LAST DITCH) EFFORT TO SAVE THIS HERE WEBSITE. WITH ANY LUCK, THERE WILL BE ABOUT THREE UPDATES A WEEK... BRIEF AND ENTERTAINING. SOMETHING I'VE NEVER QUITE SEEN ANYWHERE ELSE AND I'M EXCITED ABOUT IT.

THANKS FOR HANGING WITH ME. GIMME A FEW DAYS AND THINGS'LL BE SWELL. I PROMISE. --

CHRISTOPHER

You've got to sneak your blogs in when you can, folks. Even if that means at 6:54am, just 6 minutes before you need to be out the door and off to the bus station where you will inevitably be lulled back into a slumber by the darkness of the bus and the sweet hum that the gears make while navigating through Rt 46 / Rt 3 traffic only to wake up sweating and a little greasy at the Port Authority 10 minutes later than you needed to be. Sneak the blogs in kids, sneak 'em in. *

More later... it's time to roll. --

Fall. Football. Relaxation. Everything, yay.

Work is tough and the hours are killing me slowly. It certainly makes me miss playing ping-pong with jimmy on the daily and wish that I had used my downtime a bit better. But I think I'm learning how to balance out my newfound lack of time with precious care for my newfound free time. Read lots. Listen to good music. Enjoy friends and loved ones more than you've ever enjoyed them before. Savor their time and presence.

Sorry I don't write as much as I'd like to.. and believe me I'd like to, but I haven't quite figured out how to fit it into my schedule yet... but I'm working on it.

Also, I'm working on finishing my songs. Seeing Mitsuko (go. click. now) made me miss playing music. Jimmy said he would help me with my tunes. Maybe we can set aside one night a week to work on these songs. Maybe we could perform them. Or I can perform them if he's too busy. Maybe the band name could be either August De Meyer or The August De Meyers. Maybe it could be acoustic pop with keyboard and no drums. Or electronic drums, if we're so inclined. Maybe I could sing about the things I don't find the time to write about here. Maybe you can come see us and it'll be fun.

Fall. I love fall. --

You've got a new thing going!
And I can't go with that!
And the scars are showing!
From the memories gone bad!
And I say... go on! go on!

3:24am and the Ergs are still inspiring enough for me to accentuate their lyrics with exclamation points. Amen.*

New 250 gigger is installed, up and running. Old 80 gigger's been left on as a slave. WindowsXP is installed as the OS on the 250 gigger. WindowsME was left on the 80 gigger. I can boot to either.

I started installing all this shit at about 5pm tonight and I've only just finally gotten everything more or less back to normal on the PC front. I used to think I was good at this shit... but as the years have gone by I've considerably gotten stupider and stupider with it.

At any rate, iTunes seems to be functioning just splendidly... which means a little bit of anal MP3 organizing and rabid ripping of the CD collection will be commencing for a good two weeks until I get my sweaty little hands on my itty bitty Pod. Yay. --

Tired and hungover...

but just fine thanks to The Ergs! *

Going to pick up a new hard drive today... which is step #1 towards joining the ranks of all you white headphoned iPod sporting hipsters out there. Excellent. --

For as long as I've known Paul I've consistently offered up (usually misguided) musical advice to him. He is almost always kind enough to give a listen to, and weigh in on, whatever I'm recommending. In return, Paul generally points out books that I should be reading and video games that I probably should be playing. The whole system seems to work pretty well. Keeps us cultured, up to date, whatever.

In one rare instance of Paul laying some tunes on me, he offered up The Paper Chase around the release of their phenomenal sophomore album, Hide The Kitchen Knives. Whereas most music I stumble upon these days finds me dis-interested after a few weeks, The Paper Chase has again and again found itself on my playlists. My respect for this band has multiplied tenfold since I first found myself enamored with that shakey but disturbingly determined voice scream "YOU BETTER HIDE THOSE KITCHEN KNIVES!" out of my speakers two years ago.

I don't know why it took me so long to get myself a copy of their latest, God Bless Your Black Heart, but upon spinning it from front to back for the first time it's completely monopolized all of my listening time and playlist space. 90% an expanded Hide The Kitchen Knives concept, 5% Modest Mouse and 5% Connor Oberst, God Bless Your Black Heart is for anyone who likes their dementia sincere and honest or their heartbreak sickening and scary.

I listen to it more than the new Faint. More than the new Ted Leo. More than the new Interpol. Cure. Hives. Blah-blah. Blah-blah. Bands with visions and talent like The Paper Chase are an all-too-rare example of why music plays such a big part in my life.

So thanks, Paul. --

It's with caution that I admit to have been bitten by the Dan Brown bug. It started obviously enough, with The Da Vinci Code, and has moved forth to Angels* & Demons and then to Deception Point. I can only guess that the madness will end with Digital Fortress. Being the type of kid in high school that spent hours on the internet before it was cool for you to check out espn.com while at work, I'd previously stumbled upon countless websites about the Illuminati, Free Mason imagery on US Dollar Bills, etc. If you're a bit geeky, don't mind being caught on the subway with a paperback best seller, and have a few hours to kill (literally, you can plow through these puppies in hours) I highly recomment seeking out this shit. Your Dad's probably already bought it, so just borrow it from him or whatever.

Read it before Ron Howard casts Tom Hanks as Robert Langdon and ruins the whole damn thing. *

They sell shirts that have "I'm Rick James, Bitch" silkscreened along side an image of Mr. James on the Seaside Heights boardwalk. Last weekend, two days after the death of Signore James I saw a person walking along the beach that crossed out the "I'm" and replaced it with "I was" "I was Rick James, Bitch". Charming.

I might just be the only person in the United States that has not yet seen the David Chappelle skit that spawned that initial phrase. *

I'm employable, it turns out. Not only employable, but employable by multiple companies. When it rains it pours... and now I've been offered two wonderful positions with wonderful companies doing things that I know that I will enjoy. It's a wonderful problem to have... and once I make the final decision (it's 99.9% made), I'll let you hear about it... then the unemployed whining will end. Yay. --

* I'll have you know that the exact second that I began typing the word Angels, Ted Leo yelled the word "Angel" in song #2 off of his new album Shake The Sheets which I have not listened to enough yet to comment on.

Touche!

I wish I could play off my last post as a successful test of faith, but I cannot honestly do so. The truth is that I wanted my first blog back to be inspiring enough for me to stick to my word, but I just kinda froze up. Straight up writers block. For a few days I took a mental vacation, keeping me from blogging. Then after that I took a physical vacation to Seaside Heights, New Jersey. I'm happy to say that I have returned with 1/2 lb. of peanut butter fudge, a red fighting fish won from a boardwalk game that strangely resembles beer-poing that Marissa and I have named "rar", a wicked sunburn, and a newfound desire to write. I suppose that you can get any of those aformentioned items just about anywhere in the U.S., but I think those who are in the know understand that there is no better place to do so.

Fudge, fish, and sunburn aside, I state that Seaside Heights, NJ is the perfect catalyst to my rekindled interest in blogging becase the duration of the time I spent there had me asking the very same questions that I've found myself asking a lot since leaving Boston and moving back home. #1 - Who are these people? and #2 - What the fuck am I doing here? While I am still not far removed from the inherent craziness that comes with being a senior in college living in Boston I am sure as hell not ready to take up any kind of suburban residence and begin living the way that so many middle-aged white people do. The desire to hit the town, to get out and see people in different situations has been such a huge part of my life the past five years, and it's tough to be faced with the truth that it's not really possible in my current location. Yes, technically on paper I live in a rather large town that offers a fairly diverse set of people(s). I have great friends whom I enjoy spending time with more than they probably know. But the scale to which I have become accustomed to enjoying my time on this planet has been greatly scaled down.

So there's the backdrop for going forward with in.circles. Knowing what's behind me - knowing what I want in front of me - and this bizarre little time in between called 'right now' in which living as an NYC commuter in North Jersey has me asking myself questions #1 and #2 a lot. *

Due up, more on the Jersey Shore, the statistical chance of getting on a subway train with a raving lunatic, and how much more ass my fighting fish can kick than yours. Stay tuned. --

Chris

Ahem... excuse me.  It appears as if i've lost my voice.  I'm sure that my lack of regular blogging makes that fairly evident.  The infrequency, I can deal with.  However, looking back at the substance behind my scant blogging and being embarassed and sickened, I cannot deal with.

The lack of voice or substance or whatever you want to call it behing my words is due to a million things.  However, lately I've felt an urge to get back into the daily, or almost daily, saddle. So rather than can this whole project that I've worked on more less for five years now, I'm going to give it one more shot.  The blogs will be coming.  And hopefully they will be interesting.

Hope to see ya around more.  Thanks,

Chris.

Technically I suppose you can say I'm employed. Generally, employment consists of regular payment in a paper check or electronically dispersed sum of money. If you're lucky, employment will also consist of health care benefits. My current 'employment' consists of none of those things, short of a few bucks to cover the insanely expensive commute from Jersey to New York everyday. However, I am being paid in "learning". And "experience". I am also getting to "rub elbows" with some influential and important people. I guess the idea is that giving up the above stated generalities of employment will pay off sometime in the future with larger payments in either paper or electronic forms. Despite the exciting work in which I get to do, which I'm not quite ready to reveal up in ye olde blog, it's tough to be working pro bono when there have been multiple offers that allow for pay and benefits in the here and now. *

If you take a look at my blog entry dated October 20, 2003 you will find a pretty accurate and quite pissed-off description of the night I was robbed at knife point. Last week, just over nine months after the incident, I took the witness stand to testify against the four assholes that pulled knives on me and a friend in search of a few bucks. I spent one hour and 45 minutes on the stand. I was cross-examined by four sleezy defense lawyers that had prepared questions intended to confuse my memory of the night. Questions designed to paint a false picture of me wanting to face off with four huge scary looking dudes because I had quite a bit to drink. I think I held my own on the stand... and I'm pretty sure that the few places I slipped up due to the sleezy questioning will be fixed by the bare facts of the case... my 911 call and the police reports... order of events, etc. I don't like to try to knock anyone trying to make a living... and I am sure there are lots of defense lawyers that are truly looking for justice in the world. But I don't know how these four particular people can be OK enough with themselves at day's end to have a decent night's rest. --

Tonight a handful of us will be heading up to the Catskills for a camping weekend and i'm pretty psyched about the whole thing. Of course, when your life consists of balancing time between Final Fantasy Tactics Advance and a pirated copy of Rez for the Dreamcast, anything that involes being outside of these bedroom walls warrants "psychedness". So Boo-ya. Bring on the mosquitos, campfires, and creepy New York state hicks. *

I've put together a handful of mix CD's to listen to on the trip. I've put one together that consists of mostly new music and a few old favorites to round out the collection... here's the tracklisting:

01. Wilco - At Least That's What You Said
02. Interpol - Slow Hands
03. Clinic - Country Mile
04. Mike Park - On That Stage
05. Single Frame Ashtray - The Slip
06. Mirah - Look Up!
07. Secret Machines - Light's On
08. Ramones - Do You Wanna Dance?
09. The Misfits - Bullet
10. Ramones - Needles and Pins
11. The Misfits - Death Comes Ripping
12. Two Lone Swordsmen - Sick When We Kiss
13. Clinic - wdyyb
14. Apollo Sunshine - Blood is Wood
15. Interpol - Not Even Jail
16. Single Frame - Floral Design in a Straight Line
17. The Cure - Before Three
18. Detachment Kit - Music for Strobelights
19. Leonard Cohen - Famous Blue Raincoat

Enjoy your weekend. Happy Summer. --

Go and listen fuckwads. --

I just wrote an entire album's worth of power-pop songs. Think 1997. Two minute, thirty second long songs that pack in at least two verses, two choruses and a bridge or intro in the more inventive tunes. Think Plow United meets Beezewax. *

I'm four songs into the new Cure album and enjoying it a whole heck of a lot more than I thought I would. I guess Ross Robinson isn't all that terrible. I mean, he produced Burn Piana Island Burn by the Blood Brothers, right? *

I'm still unemployed. Although I finally have an attractive offer in front of me from a very respectable, well-known company. The job is marketing and sales related whereas lately I've had an unexplainable urge to dive into the finance industry a whole hell of a lot. A friend of my parent's trades on the commodities market (think oil. think the people who terrorists want to blow up.) and offered to sign me up as his unpaid clerk so that I could run around the trading floor for a few weeks to see if I can find anyone willing to hire me to do whatever the hell it is that they do over there. The whole scene is pretty exciting. But it's also pretty damn risky and can end up being a total, total bust. Whoa is me. --

And so it begins.

* 'At Least That's What You Said', the first song on the new Wilco album pleases me.
* I am still unemployed. But I'm coming closer to real employment by the day. I could be in Brooklyn, Manhattan, or Jersey. It's heating up... the decision will come soon... which I'm sure will either lead to a new, fun blog that I will use to bitch in ad nauseum... or completely kill the damn thing. Either way I'm sure no one's too broken up.
* I enjoy playing Mario Golf more than I care to admit.
* Marissa will be heading my way with a truckload of her goods to come live with me while we sort out our employment and living situations. This pleases me very much.
* Word of advice... if you have the word "Sales" in our resume and want a halfway decent job... do not post your resume on Monster.com. You wil be flooded with calls from idiots who want you to sell shit to other idiots and pay you nothing for it.

Bitchin'. --

Passable verses. Catchy choruses. Blues riffs. Fuckin' A.

Catchy voices. Passable musicians. Blues. Fuck me. --