New adventures in aural vivacity.

Please “like” as you see fit.

• Pretty amazing — the Polyphonic Spree “Questfortherest.com“

• Pleasant sounds of the Bebot

• The deranged, frothy stew of Comic-Con

• Porn workshop for $195 = immeasurable pointlessness (But register here if the idea whets your ass-whistle; you do get to mingle with the “Tony Robbins” of sex, after all.)

• The Antiplanner vs. Matthew Yglesias

• Tramway anger

• Fish, electricity and unrelenting sexual desire

• Nine great dystopian music vids

• The worst-ever man-made explosions

• R.I.P. Harry Galbreath and Jack Tatum

• Moronic faith-healing parents try to get their baby back

• Ahmadinejad vs. Paul the Octopus

• Max Richter’s Infra gets 8 stars from Pop Matters

• The NYT‘s Fifth Down blog forecasts the 2010 Green Bay Packers

• When Liberace’s brother visited Portland

• Why talent leaves Portland

• People want to righteously shag themselves…and their parents too

• It’s “reactable!” (More here.)

• Fractal drum

• The Killing Machine

• Teens! Headphones! Drugs! For the love of God, somebody get them an emergency dose of this Public Service Announcement!

• Lee Hazlewood — Cowboy in Sweden.

The Fat Athlete Hall of Fame;

Roger Kimball: Bankrupting a country 1-2-3

When liberals aren’t shrill;

Michael Vick is a really nice guy;

The disease and filth in your stadium food;

Change and museums;

Liberals for Palin;

The Hemingway Look-Alike Contest;

Some awesomely weird places to sleep;

Do polluted skies contribute to suicide?

Son of Large Hadron Collider;

Non-stop Western themes

Frankie Laine sings “Jezebel” in a feast for the eyes and ears;

Ukrainian cows power biogas plant;

Wikipedia’s list of animal sounds;

Octo-Newf;

The robots will kill us;

Free nature sounds;

The world’s 50 most commonly spoken languages;

How animals contribute to human evolution; and

On music and brain plasticity.

PORTLAND!

What city is more smug than ours?

If you said Seattle as recently as 3-to-4 years ago, you’d still be right.

But these days, Portland is King of the Hill as far as smugness goes. Granted, I’ve never been to, say, Brooklyn — and I’m sure it’s smug there too — but it can’t possibly be as bad as it is here. In New York, you still have a solid bedrock of tough, hard-working people who have lived through disappointment, frustration and pain and emerged with greater strength of character.

Not so here!

We are beset by condescending, privileged twerps.

Just look at the following photo, for Chrissakes, snapped secretly by a friend at the airport the other day. It’s two garden-variety Portlanders. For all I know, they might be wonderful people. Salt of the fucking earth.

But nearly EVERYONE in town looks just like them. Ironic clothing…ironic eye-ware…the same old tiresome song.

To be clear, I have no problem with anyone’s personal aesthetics. I frequently see Portland idiots dressed up as pirates, and though I don’t think of them in positive terms, I spend no mental currency on their place in this world. Honestly, smug Portlanders — I couldn’t care less if your wardrobe personifies indie-rock cliche. When it’s all said and done, you’re just another jerk I’ll go out of my way to ignore.

Here’s the rub though: these wiry, unfruitful clods don’t simply ignore others. NO! They sneer and scoff at anyone who doesn’t fit their DIY Cool Person Template.

It has steadily gotten worse in the 10 years I’ve lived here. It’s one effed-up milieu of shit.

More than ever, the city is teeming with unoriginal, emaciated oafs who wear tight brown pants and sing loudly to themselves at the bus stop.

Such individuals!

(No, I’m not going to hunt down data to support my assertions, but I know there are data out there just waiting to be culled for those exact purposes.)

Frustrating stuff.

I try hard to avoid the cliche of misanthropy. Misanthropy is an easy emotion. But the oppressiveness of the cool Portland alpha culture has reached an intolerable apex. I can’t count the number of times I’ve looked up from reading my book on the bus and some skateboarder fuckwad was glaring (or smirking) at me because my dress shirt and slacks didn’t ooze awesome-fucking-street-cred.

These days, the forecast consistently calls for a torrent of fist-showers…on the faces of Portland “creatives!”

O! I wish to pummel these creatures!

If there was but one day a year when I could rain blows upon their smug faces w/o fear of legal reproach!

O!

What happy times those would be, friend!

So there you have it — another fatuous diatribe, and I’ve been singing the same song since 2000. A terrible earthquake on Belmont would go a long ways toward mitigating PDX’s alpha culture.

Nature? I’m paging you.

in the abandoned motel, originally uploaded by bealluc.

A race is on I’m on your side
And hearing you my engines die
I’m in a mood for you
For running away

Stars come down in you
And love, love, love you can’t give it away

Inside you the time moves and she don’t fade
The ghost in you, she don’t fade
Inside you the time moves and she don’t fade

Don’t you go it makes no sense
When all your talking supermen
Just take away the time
And get in the way

Ain’t it just like rain
And love, love, love is only Heaven away

Inside you the time moves and she don’t fade
The ghost in you, she don’t fade
Inside you the time moves and she don’t fade
The ghost in you, she don’t fade

Inside you the time moves and she don’t fade
The ghost in you, she don’t fade

• Something about Stonehenge and its twin;

• Todd Solondz returns to shred box office records with the eagerly anticipated and special effects-laden sequel to Happiness;

• Jay Cost at Real Clear Politics: “Journolist” is another mile-marker on the road back to partisan reporting, which will ultimately aid democracy;

• A wet laser;

• The Green Movement and moral licensing;

• Obama to nation’s malcontents: “Have faith in my ability to micro-manage your life like a domineering, inefficient, control-freak mother...”;

• Blago’s wife likes to curl up with a good mystery novel while Hubby engages in governmental malfeasance;

• Christian gals, your mission this week — should you choose to accept it — is backyard sex;

• Comic convention cleavage;

• If you’re interested in watching Susan Richards — the Invisible Woman — engage in acts of sexual congress, then this site is for you (completely unsafe for work, natch);

• What would the NFL equivalent of Lebron’s Miami Heat look like?

• The Saucy Postcard Museum;

• Adding random users to your Twitter stream is good for you; and

• Padded panty raid.

While leafing through the recent issue of Reason, I came upon this confusing advertisement and image:

A bit odd, no?

To be fair, the advertiser — “The Twelve Visions Party” — may be a virtuous troupe of happenin’ freedom mongers.

But their ad campaign has an uncanny valley thing going on. Not unlike this robot interview.

My fellow libertarians are by and large swell people, but ever since my visit to a Harry Browne rally in 2000, I’ve noticed that a few of them have the glazed-over “Scientologist Look” in their eyes.

It’s as if the mere mention of the terms “eminent domain” and “easement” send them straight into a trance.

A completely unfair characterization, to be sure, but I’m throwing it out there for discussion.