Updates/Rusty Talks
2005

Bad Idea Jeans
(12-5-05) A short story set Christmas during in which the wife character named Holly leaves the husband character.  It's called "Holly Leaves."

Viacom
(12-2-05) I made a decision never to turn the TV to MTV or VH-1 ever again unless I have a good reason for doing so.  Did I see something on there, some sort of straw that broke the camel's back?  No, I did not.  And it's just that simple.

Hello
(12-1-05) How you guys doin'?

An Open Letter To God
(11-13-05) Dear God,

I've figured something out, and I thought I'd share it with you.  Some folks reading this letter might think it's stupid for me to offer up a suggestion to God Almighty, thinking that if there were a good idea out there, that God would have thought of it already, but from the stories told about you in the Bible (assuming they're true), especially in the earlier days, you were taking suggestions all the time.  Moses convinced you not to destroy everyone again, for example.  You even repented a few times, so I know even you screw up.  So there's that.  Here's the suggestion.

Give us back our long life spans, please.  A thousand years would be nice, Methuselah-style.  I understand why you took them away, but now it's not working like it originally did.  For example:

It seems to me that many of the problems we're going through right now are a a result of the following attitude from most of the people on the planet:  "Well, I won't live to see it happen anyway."  Even young people are saying this (I certainly said it when I was five years old or so--I'm certainly saying it now that I'm a ripened thirty-year-old), and older people are saying it more (don't got much life to go), and they seem to be the ones causing the biggest disasters.  They obviously don't give a fuck about their grandkids.

We won't live to see the impact of global warming, we won't live to see the day when our fossil fuels finally run out, we won't live to see the sky torn a few more new assholes.  I mean, there's some big stuff like that (and at this point, all of those are maybes), but there are other things too.

Like overpopulation.  Oh, we'd sure as hell live to see it if no one died naturally anymore.  We'd have to deal with it.  I know it would be messy, but we'd deal with it.  Would we deal with it by killing everyone?  Even more wars to thin things out?  Maybe, but behind this idea of living a thousand years is the hope that we'd appreciate life more as well, so maybe not.  Right now, a twenty-year-old fighting in a  war might seem to have his whole life in front of him, but he's really only got, what, fifty years to go?  Big deal.  But if he had a thousand years to go, then that would be like killing a two-year-old.  A baby!

Even though the end of the world is possible right this second (just push a few buttons), it still seems like it's some sci-fi futuristic thing.  If we were alive for a good two hundred years or so, we'd get to see sci-fi future stuff coming true before our stupid eyes (just as anyone would have who would have been born in the year 1805), and then we'd be more careful with the next eight hundred years of our lives.  I hope?  Right?

Does this blow away the good things caused by the attitude "Life's too short"?  "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die" as one of your guys so wisely said (for my money, one of the smartest things ever said in the Bible): would a long life span destroy that attitude?  No!  We'd have longer to appreciate things, while we're doing them, not years later when it's too late.  Give us a longer childhood (please please please), give us a longer time as adolescents (please please please), give us a longer time as young independent people with young lovers who we can be beautiful with for hundreds of years, with little babies who don't grow up so fast, with families where not only do we not worry about our parents getting old and dying, where we don't have to face the death of our grandparents at a young age (or, worse, never meet them at all)... but we get to be with our great grandparents and great-great and great-great-great and so on.  And they're not geezers!  They're gorgeous and healthy like us.  Please please please, dear God, please!

Some might think at this point that I'm describing Heaven, but maybe Heaven's a problem too.  If thinking you'll never live to see it happen anyway isn't the problem, Heaven is.  People don't mind chunking this life out the window because they're just waiting on the afterlife.  As if this one doesn't count somehow, as if it's some studio apartment we can trash while waiting on someone to build our billion dollar Hollywood Barbie dream house.  I mean, I hope there's a Heaven too.  St. Paul said if there were nothing after this life, he'd be "of all men most miserable," and I know where he's coming from.  There is nothing worse than death, and for lots of us on this planet (not me, but only out of luck) there's nothing much worse than life.  You know as well as I do that those assholes who attacked America a while back did it because you (or someone putting words in your mouth) told them there would be a much nicer afterlife if they did, so don't give us that hope.

Seems to me that a combo meal of long life span and letting us know there's no heaven (John Lennon at least tried to get us to imagine that, God bless him) -- or that, if there is, you ain't letting us in (even if you secretly are) -- would solve so much.  Religious people would start doing some good for a change.  I was and sometimes am a churchgoer myself, but after a while I got sick of one of the basic messages being "Don't have any fun.  That's for later."  I'm all for self-sacrifice for the well-being of others (what should be one of the basic messages of any church), but not for self-sacrifice for its own sake.  But that's what your guys down here preach.  Oh, the good ones care a little about taking care of other people, but most of what you hear concerns these pointless sacrifices.  I mean, look at what they're saying about sex.

A tangent on sex-sacrifice, just to give you an idea of what many of your followers think of probably the greatest gift you ever gave us.  Don't do at all it is the ideal.  St. Paul even said this, that he wished everyone could just avoid it altogether, but he supposed that marriage would be okay so you wouldn't "burn" (we now call it blueballs).  But if you marry, don't do anything lewd even then.  No dick-sucking, no clit-licking, no doggy, no butt sex, no dirty talk (no cussin' at all, by the way),  no 69, no cowgirl, no mutual masturbation (and certainly no solo), no hair-pulling, no biting, no horseplay, no diving, no lifeguard on duty, please shower before entering pool, etc.  Another solution to our problems, of course, would be to take away our hormones and let us have no interest in sex (or anything else interesting for that manner) and we'll all just peacefully eat mayonnaise bread every day until we finally die off.  You see my point.

I just want us to have more time to figure things out, to appreciate things, to not squander what we have left because we feel it won't affect us in the long run, to not only have time to make our beds but to also -- goddamn it -- lie in them.  We currently don't have to lie in our goddamn beds: that's our problem.

As a final thought, you wanna hear one of the reasons I actually believe in you?  Because Johnny Cash and The Beatles did.  What do you think of that?  Give us some more people like that to represent you and to make life more bearable, whether for a thousand years or seventy-five, and I might be happy with just that.

Love you so much,
Your boy Rusty.

What a Fun Guy
(10-31-05) Dear All Movie Guide, please find someone else to do your ads besides the toenail fungus people.  Thank you.

Oh, and Happy Halloween everyone.  Don't forget to sacrifice your goat.

Harriet. Harry-It.
(10-27-05) I had no idea that the Harriet Miers thing had crawled into my brain.  It just seemed like another item in the long list of Bush being himself.  Then I had a dream about her, about her nomination, and in the dream I was very passionate, saying things like, "This is unacceptable.  We can't have take this any more."  I was saying stuff like, "What if it were up to me to choose someone for the Linguistics Professor position at Pan Am and I chose Noby?  Noby's a smart guy and all, but he's not qualified to teach linguistics.  This is absurd."

Then I woke up and found out she had withdrew.  Good for her.  But it was his fault, the whole thing.  He nominated her.  He's witnessed first hand in the past few weeks the results of putting incompetent buddies into extremely important positions, and he does it again.  What a fucker.  And who the fuck is he to make me care about this shit, to bother my usual dreams of Angelina Jolie?  Rusty "Que Sera Sera" Spell.  Goddamn it, I don't ask for much.  I understand fucking up... but enough is e-fucking-nough, man.  Jesus H!  I hope his dick falls off.

The Basketball Diary Update
(10-9-05) I finally leaned over my balcony and told him the basketball was shaking the entire apartment and asked if he could bounce the ball elsewhere.  He complied.  Sorry if the follow-up story isn't as amusing.

The Basketball Diary
(10-3-05) This guy's been dribbling his basketball on the balcony next to mine for the past thirty minutes.  He's done this the past four or five nights.  Doesn't seem like a big deal, but it actually shakes the entire building (yes) and sounds like someone hammering bombs.  It vibrates everything: floor, furniture, and especially my stomach.  I feel like he's collapsing my bowels in some way.

Last night, every time the ball hit the concrete, I flipped my balcony light on, then off, then on, which I hoped he could see, to give him the idea.  I think it gave him pause, but then again maybe his basketball dribbling was just irregular at that moment.  It often was.

I know that I sometimes watch movies late at night.  Maybe that's too loud.  But at worst it's a low bassy sound, a little mumble, and he's probably in the other room at that point.  The entire place shakes.  When I walk to the other side of the apartment, it feels like it's over there too.  My thoughts turn to murder.

Options: 1. Go out on the balcony and tell him to cut it out.  2. In the middle of the night, or in the day when I know he's out, Spider-Man my way over my balcony to his (it would be dangerous) and throw his basketball into the street.  3. Knock on his door, slap him with a glove, and set up the duel in which I may kill him or be killed, both outcomes solving my problem.

Who bounces basketballs?  Is this the 1970s?  Better places for the bouncing should one wish to do so?  Certainly.  Thirty minutes?  Nightly?  Does he also rape babies?  I think this guy must also rape babies.  I have thought it out and decided that someone needs to put a stop to this baby rapist right away, before any more babies are raped. 

My name is Mok, and thanks a lot.

Disconnect
(10-1-05) Sorry for those few days when you had an outdated Rusty Spell Dot Com.  I don't know how you survived.  But everything's up and better than ever now, and you might even see a redesigned front page soon, though maybe not.

The other personal feeling of disconnection I've had for the past few days, aside from my page being screwed, was having my car fixed.  This is the first time it's had to go in the shop, so I guess that's okay.  FYI, it was the starter, but I also got all other kinds of stuff done on it (belts, batteries, crap), so I ended up paying $45,879.43.

When I got my car back last night, I rode around and jammed to System of a Down and lost a little of my voice singing/screaming it.  Then I watched at late showing of Joss Whedon's Serenity, which is super-fantastic.  I don't want to give anything away, but in it they kill Spike.

Happy October.

Things I Cannot Do
(9-24-05) It turns out, there are a handful of things I cannot do.  One of those things is properly wear flip-flops.  I have to walk like a robot to keep them from falling off, and when they are on, they feel like they are going to split open the section between my first two toes.  This is why I've never worn a pair in thirty years, I guess.  I somehow knew.

Bedtime for Bubbies
(9-19-05) It's ten till seven in the morning.  Normally I might be going to bed about this time, but I've actually been awake now for about an hour after actually sleeping.  School started this semester and my schedule is such that MWF I have to teach class at 8:45 am and the other two days I have night classes.  So I'd end up sleeping till the afternoon (my usual wake up time, when left alone) on the night class days, causing me to stay up all night, causing me to be sleepy for my 8:45 class, causing me to take long naps after class, causing me to stay up late again, etc. etc.

Eventually what happened was that I was going to bed at like 7:00 am every morning, even if that just meant an hour sleep, so eventually I cut that out and just started going to bed at noon.  Yes, my bedtime became noon and my wakeup time a little after primetime TV began.  Even I didn't like that.

Eventually the hours started shifting around as I tried to correct the problem, and suddenly I found myself waking up between five and eight in the morning on my own, which is what time a lot of "normal" people wake up.  It felt a little weird or perverse.  Waking up with the sun and eating breakfast, getting hungry for lunch before noon, actually eating a little "brunch" of a nectarine or something.  Doing schoolwork in the morning, and projects, even fiction writing.  But then I ended up kind of liking it.  Usually I want to immediately start doing things when I wake up, but then I have to go to work, and then when I get home I'm tired.  So it's nice to do stuff before going to school, like writing this dumb thing.

The schedule's not perfect.  Since I wake up really early, I start getting sleepy around six or so at night, so I end up taking a nap, which means I wake up kind of late at night, only to go back to bed a few hours later.  So if I could shift my waking up time closer to eight than to five, I should be okay, especially if I allow myself to actually sleep till nine or ten on my night class days.

I do realize how silly it is for me making a big deal of the fact that I'm actually awake during the day and asleep after midnight, but it's something I haven't done much of since early college.

Krazy Kat
(9-13-05) I've recently discovered George Herriman's early 1900s comic strip Krazy Kat.  It's one of the most interesting things I've seen in a while, something I only vaguely knew existed, and had no idea it existed this way.

The premise of the strip is that Ignatz the mouse hates Krazy Kat so hits him with a brick.  Krazy Kat loves Ignatz, however, and takes the brick hit as a sign of affection.  Meanwhile, Officer Pupp loves Krazy Kat and so puts Ignatz in jail when he hits Krazy Kat with a brick.

Listen to a sample line from the strip.  Krazy Kat asks a character if the same thing that happened yesterday will happen again, and the character replies, "It most certainly will, Krazy.  History, events, accidents, thoughts, jokes, you, I, anything, and nothing each must repeat itself, everything is just nothing repeating itself--ashes to ashes is the best repeating act we do--so don't worry, it'll happen."

Wow, almost as good as Cathy.

Firefly
(9-11-05) The web universe should know I'm watching Firefly.  I've been putting it off for a while, but the Serenity movie's coming out really soon, so I have to watch them all now.  I'm on disc 3 of 4.

I pretty much didn't know what was going on the first 30 minutes of the first episode, so I can kind of see why it didn't stay on the air.  If I'd caught it randomly on TV without knowing it was a Whedon show, I wouldn't have given it more of a chance.  I'm not sure if that's Joss's fault or mine, but I'm usually not confused about things these days in movies and shows (except, of course, for Beetlejuice which still makes no sense to me).

After that half hour, however (luckily, the first episode was an hour and a half or so), the show got really interesting and every episode has been pretty captivating, maybe most especially so far the one I just watched two seconds ago, "Ariel."

Captain Mel is very much like Angel, if Angel weren't a vampire but a southern cowboy in space instead.  He's got a lot of the same qualities and even sounds like him sometimes (again, with the accent).  I read that Nathan Fillion had auditioned for Angel's part.  He wasn't dark, handsome, and "broody" enough, but he would have done.  I'm glad he later got to play Caleb instead.  (I don't care that I'm sounding like a nerd now.)

Mel's my favorite character right now.  My least favorite is Shepherd Book, though he's fine.  Wash is cool, and Kaylee is pretty shiny, even though she says things like, "He don't got much regard for them what chose it" or whatever, and sounds unnatural saying it.  It's one of those goofy things that I should be annoyed by, but that I like instead.  I like the new language stuff too.  If I start using it, it won't be like I'm speaking Klingon or anything, right?  Right?

Anyway, I'm getting excited about the movie.  Maybe if it's successful they'll pull a Family Guy and bring it back to TV--so I can still not watch it on TV and wait for it on DVD, cause that's how I roll.  These shows are too good to watch them with commercials and bugs on the lower right corner of the screen and potentially out of order and all else that TV brings.  If the movie doesn't come to Edinburg, I might have to drive to some fancy city to see it.

Some Random Things You Don't Care About
(9-3-05) I just ordered academic regalia so I wouldn't have to rent every year.  The gown, hood, and tam cost just a little under a million dollars including shipping.  In ten years it pays for itself!

I wrote a story for the first time last night in a long time.  I've been out of story biz for a while (other than publishing old ones) and it was actually really fun to write.  Like the olden days.

The PTV DVD is finished.

This coffee I'm drinking is good.  Just kidding.  I'm not drinking coffee.

Here are those promised Charles M. Schulz quotes.  All of them were for some religious magazine and I think they're interesting:

"I am convinced that one of the things which has helped man to survive has been his sense of humor." When asked if humor and faith go together: "It's almost a necessity!  Those who find no humor in faith are probably those who find the church a refuge for their own black way of looking at life, although I think many of us find the church a refuge for a lot of our personality faults.  Those of us, for example, who never learned how to dance feel that the church is an ideal place for us if we can find a church that doesn't believe in dancing.  Then we can get away with never having learned how to dance.  You can carry this in all sorts of directions and see that the church is a refuge for what is really a 'flaw' in your own makeup.  Faith is positive.  Humor is a proof of faith, proof that everything is going to be all right with God, nevertheless.  There is humor in the Bible."

Discussing how many churches think they are the one true church: "All you have to do is get yourself a little bit criticized for a little bit persecuted and then this is all you need to convince yourself that you must be part of the true church because somebody hates you.  If you can just be obnoxious enough so that somebody will dislike you or criticize you, then obviously you must be right!  This, then, is a perfect excuse to withdraw from the rest of the world."

"I do not like a high-organized church.  I think that as soon as the congregation reaches a level of one hundred or so people, it is time to build a new church.  As soon as the congregation gets to the point where you are not on fairly intimate terms with every other person in that church, then you have become too big, you are no longer a gathering of believers, but have become a theater where people can attend services.  I do not think you can attend a church service.  Service is not something which is there to be viewed as if it were a play or a movie.  You should be part of this because you are part of the people who have gathered together because you belong to God.  I certainly believe that church has to grow and has to be organized in its work to accomplish things, but I am fearful of an overly organized church and I am very fearful of a church which equates itself with Americanism.  This is a frightening trend: people who regard Christianity and Americanism as being virtually the same thing."

When asked about newer trends in fashion (it was 1967): "I don't see anything wrong with miniskirts.  If a girl can wear one well, then I think it looks very nice.  I am all for experimental changes in fashion if they make a person have a nice appearance, make them feel good."

There will be a new Mnemonic Devices EP to come out very soon.  I had, months ago, split what was going to be one big album into two EPs, and this is the second.  The songs have been finished forever, but Liza's just now getting a chance to record the vocals for them, long-distance.  It'll be the first long-distance album I've made, where I made the music here and the vocals were done elsewhere and she'll send me those in the mail, just like The Postal Service do (hence their name).  So five new songs.

I also might put out volume two of my live recordings, since I'm all into sequels these days (Plagiarism 2, the second EP, etc.).  I might even polish up and record some new stuff for the old "bootleg" release Neutral Milk Hotel Lobby and release that, cause why not.  I wish every weekend was a four day weekend because it gives me more time for this kind of stuff.  I have more time in general this semester because I'm teaching one less class than usual.

I also need to go ahead and put out my second "book" at Cafe Press, Boys and Girls in the Modern World.  It's the good one anyway.

Don't forget Carrie's birthday on Monday.  She's going to be seventeen years old.

Hurricane Katrina
(8-31-05) Dear Katrina, I hate you.

Carrie On My Wayward Son
(8-23-05) I was in Mississippi with Carrie, now I'm back in Texas with me.  There's a comma splice for you.  Everyone who lives in Mississippi who wants to see me should thank Carrie, since if it weren't for her, I'd probably just spend most of the summer here making DVDs or something.  Everyone who doesn't live in Mississippi who relies on my web presence to keep up with me, you all should blame Carrie.  I'll be adding stuff here and throughout the page in the future.  Pictures?  Of course.  Quotes from Charles M. Schulz.  You bet.  Pictures of Coca-Cola drink coasters?  Probably not.

DVD Distraction
(7-5-05) After creating about ten of what we in the CD/DVD-writing business call "coasters," I bought myself a new burner.  It's an HP 16x DVD± double-layer with "Light Scribe" so I can print on the media itself.  In addition to not wasting any more DVDs, I also burned like a billion tonight--at least twice as fast as I'd been burning.  So I'm happy.

Of course, double-layer discs are still expensive and often hard to find, so I'll be sticking with my old ones for a while.  I also won't be doing that much disc printing (you have to buy more expensive discs for that too), but now that I've had to re-burn all the Fun With Numbers DVDs because the stick-on labels were screwing them up, it's nice to know I have this labeling option if I want it.

I've captured all (or almost all) of the footage I'm going to capture for Rusty Spell's Senior Year, which is hours and hours worth.  It fills up most of my big hard drive.  It's too bad that lots of the footage is still missing: specifically the "you down with PTV, yeah you know me" tape.  This'll be one of the bigger editing projects just in terms of watching lots of stuff and trimming it down to the entertaining stuff.  It won't be hard to do: it'll just take a long time to wade through.

When I finish the PHS video, I'll do a really quick DVD (title unknown, but probably something like Frolicking Parts III and IV) where I combine "Frolicking at DSU" and "The Hattiesburg State Fair: The Sequel" onto one disc.  The second one has never appeared anywhere.  They're both short enough to be only an hour and a half or so combined, even if I keep all the footage.  I could finish this project in one day if I wanted.  I probably should have done it first so I could have something to bring to Mississippi.  Oh well.

Moving Media (Possibly My Most Personal Post Perhaps Probably--Sorry)
(6-28-05) I thought I would make a list of pieces of art that elicit some kind of specific emotional response every or almost every time I experience them.  I imagine this kind of thing is rare.  I can think of four things for myself, which seems like a lot.  Here we go.

1. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me -- The whole move is pretty affecting, but the ending almost always makes me sob and breathe heavy.  For that reason, I haven't watched it in years (I haven't even watched the DVD I bought a long time ago, when it first came out).  When I first saw it in the theater in 1992, I was just stunned by the ending, but in 1994 -- after I finally got to properly see all the episodes of Twin Peaks in order -- I had some kind of incredible understanding of everything and it really got to me.  I think I've managed to watch it two (three times tops) without having some kind of breakdown.

2. Mulholland Drive -- Another David Lynch movie.  This whole movie doesn't get to me as much, but there's that one scene behind Binkie's that gets me nuts.  The first time I saw it, when the man finally comes out, I almost hyperventilated and my heart was beating like crazy.  It felt exactly like waking up from a horrible nightmare feels.  (I can't believe that was going to be on TV.)  I figured that would never happen again after I saw it once, but when I watched the movie the second time, it happened again, the same or maybe even worse cause I knew what was coming.  Any other time I've watched it, I've put my head down in my lap and covered my eyes during that part, and even the music makes my heart beat loud.

3. Bonnie "Prince" Billy / Johnny Cash: "I See a Darkness" -- There are two version of this song: the original by Will Oldham (Bonnie "Prince" Billy) and a later Johnny Cash version that Oldham also sings on.  I heard the Cash version first, and it made me sob like a friend had died or something.  The Oldham version I heard eventually did the same.  There have only been a few times as bad as that first one (and there have been those), but almost every time it makes me cry a little bit.  I just try to avoid it, even though it's one of my favorite songs ever.

4. Neutral Milk Hotel: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea -- Unlike the crying and heart-attacks, this album has an extremely positive effect on me.  It makes me all connected to the world, like the Highlander or something.  The time when the album works the most is when I'm in my car on a trip long enough to hear the entire thing and listen to it straight through.  When "The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. Two" begins, I realize this is the best gospel song ever written and when it kicks into the fast part, I start headbanging like crazy.  "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" (the song) calms me down from that a bit, then "Two-Headed Boy" makes me scream-sing all emotional.  "Holland, 1945" picks me up again and I'm pretty much spitting everywhere with singing during this.  "Communist Daughter" and "Oh Comely" calms me down a bit too, and the latter gives me enough time to reflect on all kinds of stuff while it's going.  When "Ghost" kicks in after all this, this is where I really begin to feel supreme joyous feelings, like when people explain what the Presence of God must be like and all that stuff.  The fact that the song and album is about death and stuff, and the connectivity of life and death, only makes it more joyous somehow.  When the unnamed instrumental track starts, I want to keep singing, so I just scream "Ohhh... yeah!" to the music and mimic the organ noises.  Then the last track lets me wind down.  I'm not exaggerating when I say listening to this in the car by myself is a religious experience.

That's all.  Hope that wasn't too embarrassing to read.  I'm embarrassed by this kind of stuff, but I felt like I wanted to write it down somewhere, and I've got this goofy web thing, so why not.  If you have your own list, feel free to post it on my forums (either in the Rusty Spell Dot Com section or the We Like Media section, or both).

Love and bunnies,
Rusty.

M*A*S*H
(6-24-05) Here's how much of a M*A*S*H dork I've become while watching the DVDs (now on the eighth season).  I can tell, in the few seconds before they show the episode director's name, if it was directed by Alan Alda or not.  He has a particular style that's a little more stylistic than the regular directors who tend to play by the TV book.  You know, Alda had something to prove.  On a couple of episodes, I noticed the style was a little odd, but not quite Alan Alda, then I saw that those were directed by other cast members (Harry Morgan and Mike Farrell).

Winchester is still probably my favorite character, even more than Hawkeye.  He's supposed to be in the nemesis Frank Burns' role, but he's actually a really nice guy.  Hawkeye and B.J. (and Colonel Potter and Margaret) are always yelling at him and calling him an ass and stuff, but he doesn't really deserve it.  Not like Frank did.  Frank wasn't only a jerk; he was completely insane.  I thought they were too nice to Frank.

Sure, Winchester is always being all richie-rich and complaining about everyone's "boorish" behaviors, but he is simply complaining about the war and being away from home and the things he's used to just like everyone else.  But in his own way, a way which is a lot less annoying than Hawkeye's version, which is to stand on tables and insist everyone listen to him whine (not that I mind that, but I'm making a point).  Winchester is eloquent and clever and compassionate and really does have the best cut-downs.

He was also the early Frasier.

So if anyone has an old Winchester action figure they want to give me...

Gurdens
(6-22-05) My dad grew an eighteen-inch cucumber.

I Love The Patriot Act
(6-16-05) I love it so much.

Stella
(6-15-05) I would like to be the first to coin a term for what I consider the new comedy show Stella (starring Michael Ian Black, Michael Showalter, and David Wain) o be: STREAM OF COMEDY-NESS.  It has somewhat of a plot, but basically it goes on whatever whim it needs to go on to be funny.  And it is funny.  It reminded me of the beauty of comedy threes, and of suits, and how Michael Ian Black often looks and acts like Bruce McColloch, and how Michael Showalter is like a dorkier version of me.  The three chicks in it are hot too.  I dig the show.  I watched the sneak preview at comedycentral.com.  They've got the entire first episode up.

Barbara Jeans
(6-11-05) The Strawberry Explosion's fifth single, "Boobalean," is out.  It costs about as much as a value meal, but will last much longer and leave a better taste in your mouth.  Fans of vocoders should be especially excited about the single, since it features a vocoded Carrie and Rusty as one of the B-sides.

In addition to finishing up the single, I had a big music buying day too.  I went to the used CD section of Sam Goody's at the mall and looked through every disc (there are lots) and here's what I ended up with:

Oglio Entertainment: The Obscurity File -- A compilation album of what promised to be "politically incorrect" songs, but the most risqué thing was a song about a child molesting clown.  The others weren't even close to that.  I'll give the songs another whirl maybe, but I might trade it back in.  It was only two bucks or so to begin with, so maybe I'll make money.

Led Zeppelin: III -- I'd accidentally bought the non-remastered version a while back, so I picked up the good version for cheap.

Prince: Lovesexy -- If you tell Carrie you got "Prince's Lovesexy," she'll mishear you and think you said you got "Princess Lovesexy," which is a pretty good name.  I like this album.  It's sexy indeed.

Destiny's Child: Survivor -- This was bought for Carrie, but I listened to it and like it, so I'll make a copy.  I'd never heard the song "Nasty Girl" before.  I like them destiny's children.

Andrew W.K.: I Get Wet -- An album full of him yelling about wanting to party, which was kinda fun.  I don't know how much I'll put this on, but I'm glad I have it.

Jane Wiedlin: Fur -- It was 99 cents.  Jane is a cutie, and I've always like the album cover of her and the bunny, and I liked the song "Rush Hour," so even if it was the only good song, it was like paying for a download.  The rest of the album seemed okay for a time-to-time thing.

Casper the Friendly Ghost: Original Cartoon Cast Album -- Haven't listened to all of this yet, but I got it cause the cover looked very familiar.  I probably had it as a kid.  It was like two bucks.

Marshmallow Peeps: Sing Along--14 Sweet Tweets -- You read right.  And here's the thing: I've listened to it twice already.  It's actually not bad.  Most of it it pitch-shifted covers of songs like "Rockin' Robin" and  "Locomotion" with some interesting stuff like "The Mahna-Mahna Song" and the "Chicken Dance" thrown in, as well as original music just for Peeps.

System of a Down: Toxicity -- The only new CD I bought.  Turns out I really really like System of a Down.  I knew I liked what I heard, but I liked this entire thing.  I was listening to it in the background doing work and stuff, and it made me get up and boogie.  There's a song about bouncing on a pogo stick that got me hoppin'.  This band is weird and cool and Rick Rubin rules.

Carrie got me a copy of FrontPage 2003 for a gift, so I'm using that now... so my pages haven't been crapping all over each other; they're actually working nicely now.  Hoorah.

Stay tuned for all these albums to be featured on my mix tape.  Go buy "Boobalean."

Lucky You
(6-6-05) You know that this thing over here to the right is just a bonus, right? That the main purpose of this page is the updates over on the left? That you're lucky if I ever want to post here? I mean, it isn't a goddamn blog.

School's Out for Summer
(5-6-05) I probably won't update anything at Rusty Spell Dot Com for the rest of May, so here are some final words and thoughts for you all.

I do a lot of stuff, a lot of projects, but you'd be scared to know the ones I don't do. The other night I was going to make a 30 minute recording, a parody of a children's read-along record for Harold Pinter's The Homecoming. I was going to narrate the action, give specially-selected line readings ("You wet wick!" etc.), add some music, do sound effects: a big ol' production. Oh, and draw pictures for a webpage so you actually could know when it's time to click the page when you hear Max's stick whack like this... "WHACK!"

Now that I talk about it, it still sounds like a good idea. But I didn't want to get started on it the other night at four in the morning. It required writing a script first. I also realized I was doing another thing where copyright would get in the way of any real distribution.

I like System of a Down. There. I'll be on the lookout for a used CD or two. I just heard the new song and I liked it before I knew who it was, though I guessed it was them. Maybe they just release good singles, but I like every single I've heard from them. So bite me.

I'm going to Mississippi on Saturday, and I wish I could split myself into several selves in order to hang out with everyone for the entire month. Heck, as long as I'm doing magical wishing, I should just wish for a handful of different selves. I know I'm one person with one soul, but sometimes I feel like I could be doing any number of things and be just as happy, like I'm several people in one. I guess I'm lucky that--instead of being dissatisfied with my life--I'm dissatisfied with the fact that I can only pick one life, or one thing at a time.

So I'm going to try to see all the Mississippians. Or I will see them all, just not as much as they or I would like. I'm stretchy, but also skinny. I had five phone calls in a row today. I think that was where those three hours went.

See, like, right now, I actually have a decent idea in my head for a short story, but it's 6:20 am and I know I don't want to start on it now. I'm trying to unwind to go to sleep. The birds are singing, "Go to sleepy cheepy, go to sleepy cheepy."

Once upon a time, I made all the stuff I make for me and my friends. They'd listen to my CDs or read my stories or whatever. But these days, I have more stranger fans than friend fans. My friends have grown bored with my stuff. Selectively, anyway. They pick and choose. I think it's all just chalked up as "oh, something else by Rusty." The novelty wore off around 1998. This should not be misinterpreted as a public complaint: it's something I understand. I'm really just trying to point out a fact I've realized recently, about people who don't know me liking my stuff more than buddies do. It makes sense, though. There's more non-friends in the world than friends. It's also me pointing out good news: that people who have no personal interest in me can have an interest in me.

I said the thing about System of a Down already? Um, yeah, I did.

So I'll go to sleep. Grrrr.

The Dark Side
(4-26-05) I thought I'd confess to everyone: I have a record player now. But don't think of me as a hipster bingo. I won't buy anything for it that can be bought on CD. I will never use the word vinyl or warm in relation to the record player. I'll try not to call it a turntable. Yeah, so I have some indie singles for it, but I'm calling them 45s instead of 7 inches.

Okay, I'm going to shop at Wal-Mart and vote Republican now, just to be safe...

Hint of Lime, My Ass
(4-22-05) The Tostitos chips that claim to have a "hint of lime" are goddam liars. It's basically a lime-powder fest up in there.

The Georgetown Re-Write
(4-19-05) In case anyone wants the "corrected text" version of my short story "Every Three Years" that appears in the Spring 2005 issue of The Georgetown Review, the sentence that says "Why don't you go lick Dad?" should actually say "Why don't you go lick Dad's balls?" I didn't know they'd taken out this important word until I read the published version. Their version conjures up some ridiculous image about Dad being a popcicle or something. I guess they can do whatever the hell they want as long as they're nice enough to take my story (if you take the viewpoint that magazines are doing the authors a favor instead of vice versa--not sure what I think about that yet), but I thought everyone should know the truth. When I write about balls, I mean balls, you know.

Also, if anyone sees any pages at rustyspell.com that are incomplete, missing stuff, cut off at the bottom, etc., let me know. My server has been screwing the pooch when I publish stuff and only half-publishing some pages. Thank goodness for the Google cache.

Sin City/Livingston
(4-7-05) I just got back from watching Sin City. My first thoughts were things like "Oh no, private eye narration," "boy, this is insulting to me as a woman," "man, I hate comic books," "jeez, I'm so sick of noir," but then after a few minutes, this magic hit me and removed all my hangups and then I couldn't get enough of the movie. Every now and then, I have to be reminded what exploitation films are all about and what makes them so fun and cool. Rodriguez has done it for me once or twice, and this time he's added an extra layer of artfulness that's really pretty as well.

On a different note, I just want everyone to look at these ABBA lyrics to a little-known song of theirs called "What About Livingstone":

Went to buy me a paper at the local newsstand, and then I heard them laugh and say, "Look, they're gonna go flying way up to the moon now. Hey, what's it good for anyway?" So I said, "Fellas, like to ask you a thing, if I may. What about Livingstone? What about all those men who have sacrificed their lives to lead the way? Tell me, wasn't it worth the while traveling up the Nile? Putting themselves on test--didn't that help the rest? Wasn't it worth it, then? What about Livingstone?" And all of those fellas at the local newsstand didn't know what to say, so I told them about him, that he was just like one of those spacemen in his way, and if you laugh at them, then there's only one thing I can say: "What about Livingstone..."

All to a bouncy tune. ABBA was weird.

Love to the Cosmos
(4-1-05) Many people passed away this week, including Mitch and Lee. This is me blowing kisses to your souls.

Easter? I Barely Know Her!
(3-27-05) But seriously folks... I actually do believe that someone two thousand years ago died and came back to life three days later, which isn't too bizarre when you think of how people are brought back to life all the time nowadays, though usually with less-successful results. I also believe the bits about Lazarus, and walking on water, and those crazy speeches about not being assholes to each other.

Too bad almost every religious person who gets any attention today is a douchebag. I was reading some liner notes or something by Johnny Cash a few days ago, him talking about God and being visited by the presence of a dead Merle Haggard and things like that, and I missed knowing of someone cool like Cash who believed in all these stupid things I do. And the Beatles. I liked it when George Harrison said "All You Need Is Love" was "P.R. for God." He's dead now too. Now we have those people who want to keep Throaty McHoley-Neck alive.

(I realize there are cool people now and there were uncool people then. I really do. But that fact doesn't help me complain.)

I feel like I know less than I ever have who God is or how prayer works or what a sin is or what happens when we die or what Heaven is... but I also know that sometimes I have those Highlander moments where I'm connected to the entire universe, include God, and so I can freely tell anyone who thinks I'm wasting my time caring about these things to bite my nuts. Luckily, no one gives me a hard time about it, but if they do, I hope they're ready for the nut-biting of their lives.

I love the creator of life and am thankful for all the stuff that happened that's supposed to make life better or longer or neverending or whatever Easter was supposed to do. I hope everyone who goes to church tomorrow gets something out of it, even if it's just some nice peaceful feeling of being dressed up and sitting quietly in a room full of sincere or at least well-meaning people on a Sunday morning. I hope the kids enjoy the eggs and shit, cause that's nice too.

Come Back, Al Jean!
(3-22-05) I really enjoyed listening to all the previous Simpsons DVD commentaries, especially Al Jean who was cool and informative and had a voice I like to impersonate. Now on the season five commentaries, David Mirkin just spends the entire time telling us what we're watching and explaining jokes. Hey, David, if you're reading this (and I know you are), do better next time.

Sprang Brak
(3-20-05) Spring Break is over. Actually, mine was over all last week, but Carrie was here on hers, so that's sort of like vacation. Anyway, hope you guys didn't miss me at Rusty Spell Dot Com too much. Stay tuned for pictures, movie and music reviews, and more fun times than you can stand as I fill the gap in my soul that will grow larger throughout April, the cruelest month. I might even say something about The Sims 2 University!

Nothing But Gas
(2-25-05) Everyone should buy my book Nothing But Gas at The Prolfics Bookstore. It's me back when I was young and naive, ages 19 to 24... not the wisened owl I am now. You don't even have to read the stories, just put it on your bookshelf and tell everyone you know me.

Coin Purse
(2-24-05) The final tally of all the change I had in my room and car that I rolled with my electric coin roller: $60.50. And going... the quarters are almost filled up again.

David Lynch Is Beautiful
(2-22-05) Someone I haven't got tired of yet, after over fifteen years. He's doing daily weather reports now on David Lynch.com.

Jens Lekman
(2-21-05) Liza, Eric, and I saw Jens Lekman in Austin. He's the new Swedish heart-throb. He only got to play for like 30-45 minutes, but it was a good little show. Here's what he played: I Saw Her in the Anti-War Demonstration, A Sweet Summer Night on Hammer Hill, Black Cab, Maple Leaves, You Are the Light, Do You Remember the Riots, The Cold Swedish Winter, Psychogirl, Higher Power, a song from an upcoming album, and a cover tune. So he squeezed in eleven songs. He had a cellist, violinist, bassist, drummer, and he played guitar and ukulele. Liza and I got him to sign our respective CDs after the show. We also got shirts.

In other news, I just found out that this gum wrapper on my desk is a homosexual. It came out to me. Also, Carrie reminded me of another word to be bored/sick of: mash-up.

Love to all from Ashlee Simpson's butt-cleavage.

Oh, Tom
(2-15-05) I'm a little sad that Tom Green doesn't thrill me as much anymore. I got overexposed a few months ago. He came out with a book and started writing a blog, and I learned that he probably wouldn't be that fun or interesting of a person to be with on a daily basis. His book was kind of boring and made me lose some respect for him as a comedian. And then I read his blog every day, which was fine for a while, but then it was just him talking about drinking coffee and complaining publicly that his friends don't call him as much as he'd want, one of those annoying things. If you can't say something nice in your blog about someone, don't say nothin' at all in your blog. (This, of course, is not a blog... and Tom is a celebrity, not my friend or otherwise person I know.) So I'll have to avoid some more, because I like him when he does his thing, but I don't need to see anything else apparently.

A list of words and phrases I'm bored of: blog, bit torrent.

Rusty Spell's Fun Facts
(2-13-05) Fact: Before web logs, the only outlet people had for sharing their everyday events were recording demo tapes for their songs. Every Beatles fan knows that the original lyrics for "Yesterday" was "scrambled eggs," showing McCartney's strong need to let people know what he ate for breakfast that morning. In the Rheostatics' "Shaved Head," in place of the lyrics "The days are my lungs, and my love for you is endless," the demo recording was "I got me a phone today, and my love for you is endless." Examples like these are countless.

This was your Rusty Spell's Fun Fact.

The Rusty Spell Experience
(2-2-05) If you read the front page where it said The Rusty Spell Experience was disappearing and you were sad about it... then first of all, who are you? Second of all, you'll be happy to know that it'll live in some smaller form as a Rusty Spell Dot Com link. Some sort of "about Rusty" overview of me, myself, and I. I'll try to keep some of the colors, and I'll keep the creation date (since it was my first page after all), and I'll definitely keep the memory alive that it was made from macaroni and glue.

The Prolifics Bookstore is where we will sell our books. Noby and I have stuff. Others might soon. Go here for a sneak peek.

Carrie and Rusty
(1-26-05) My early birthday present from Carrie:
carrieandrusty.com.

Thief 3
(1-21-05) It's really called Thief: Deadly Shadows, but I just call it Thief 3. I just started playing it. The Thief games are my favorite PC games, barely beating out The Sims. It's kind of like someone had the idea I had playing Doom and Quake, which was, "Why can't I just sneak past these bad guys? Is violence really the answer?" That's what Thief is, you sneaking around, stealing stuff, completing these bigger burglary tasks, etc. etc. It's for patient folks, for folks who like to crouch and creep instead of run out in the middle of the room with their plasma gun shooting every demon.

I had to get a new graphic card to play the game. Kinda funny, I guess, to buy a new card just for one game, but I'd have had to upgrade eventually anyway. There'll be more stuff I'll need it for eventually. So now my computer is even cooler than before. And, just to say it again, my computer is so great. Not one little buggy anything does it give me, never. Because I built it myself, with love. "What's that? What's that, computer? You feel really great, but if you didn't, I'd know exactly what was wrong? That's right, little computer. Yes, yes, I love our intimacy too. Yes, compu--" Oh, sorry.

In conclusion, I like Thief 3. And girls, I like girls: not computers. I've got a girlfriend and everything; honest I do.

Coin Sort
(1-18-05) I'm having way too much fun with the coin sorter Carrie got me for Christmas. Instead of dumping all my massive change in during one session, I've been grabbing small handfuls every few hours for the past several days. To prolong the magic.

Happy New Year Already
(1-18-05) I'm watching The Surreal Life. For some reason I like this show. I'd be on it if I were a weird celebrity. Jane Wiedlin is adorable.

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