There's a theory that you never actually forget anything - the memory is intact but the last pathway to it gets dropped. The upshot is, if you can forge a new neural pathway to one part of the memory, the whole thing becomes available immediately.

In computer science we would call this a memory leak, and it would be a bad thing.

Last night at the roller derby post-after-party-party I found myself mouthing with great accuracy the words to a song I can't even believe I listened to in the first place:

Give me that donkey butt and them big old legs,
I ain't too proud to beg.
Ain't no shame in this game.
I'm going to break it down and beg like James:
Please, &c.

I want my brain back, ok?

- Z

Every once in a while some weird fucker will ask me about Latvian culture. And I sort of look at my shoes and mumble something about vodka because the truth is so much more depressing

- Z

This guy wants you to go to Slugs & Kisses.

::Download Flash Video::

Tickets are selling fast, and they think they're likely to sell out at the door.

- Z

is founded on an interesting idea: without Judas, there'd be no betrayal, no passion and death, and no resurrection, and without that - there's not a whole lot of Christianity either. (WIKIPEDIA - Gospel of Judas) Don't think about it too much, it'll blow your mind.

The point being, I've become a bit of a closeted Bob Dylan fan lately, so I went out and bought the 'official' Royal Albert Hall concert recording (WIKIPEDIA - The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The "Royal Albert Hall" Concert). A watershed moment in rock music, &c., &c., of course, and I never realized that Bob Dylan could rock this hard. But if my man over here had not shouted "Judas!" at precisely the moment he did - symbolizing whatever it was he was symbolizing - and had he not been caught on tape - would anybody care about Bob Dylan's 1966 world tour?

Eh, don't worry about it. This is the most genuinely spiteful and venomous recording I have ever heard and I cannot stop listening to it.

Speaking of spite and venom, I have been feeling curmudgeonly lately. Why, just this evening I saw some lacrosse mom park her exceedingly large passenger vehicle in front of a fire hydrant on my street. Well technically she was endangering the lives of residents and a grandstand full of kids, but sometimes you gotta rephrase things in terms people actually care about. So I left a polite little note:

Deep thought of the day:
If I fire-bombed your car,
they would have to tow it
before they put it out.
Have a nice day.

OK, so I don't know what is involved in fire-bombing a car, but the point is that the school year is young and I want to discourage bad behavior in the pups before it becomes habitual. Also, I was amused by the imagery of a flaming car getting towed down the street so that they can get to the fire hydrant to put it out. I am an asshole, but I swear I use my powers for good and not for evil.

- Z

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New journal music: Bob Dylan, "Like a Rolling Stone," from the "Royal Albert Hall" concert. Play it fucking loud.

somebody'd mentioned being a Morphine fan, so here you go: 'Bo's Veranda,' from the Get Shorty soundtrack.

I'm going to try to keep my journal music instrumental, since I often find vocals distracting, and I think pop instrumentals are an underrated niche.

- Z