BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER Read this brief preface by the Author From 2002-2004, Japhyjunket was my blog. For a number of reasons, I closed up shop and after a nine month hiatus, started a new blog: The Modern Romantic. It's probably where you want to go. This site isn't entirely uninteresting, however. It began in January of 2002, three months after 9/11 and my very personal responses to that event make up the majority of this blog. The period of time it covers has been defining for me and for many. It chronicles the "new normal", the threat of war and finally, war itself. For me, this is the period of time starts just before my ex and I broke-up and ends just after I moved to Los Angeles. I suppose this is my portrait of the artist as a young and terrified man. A lot of who I am today can be read into these sometimes panicked jabs at understanding what was happening to my world and to myself- and truth be told, a lot of it was wonderful, too. If this sounds like something you'd like to waste a few moments on, you can scroll down (all the posts are on this page) or browse through the archive, but to help you out, here are some of the posts which most interest me in retrospect. A Selected List of Posts Worth Reading (Please note that the quirkiness of this blog's code means that you have to scroll down to the bottom to read the text)

• An Answer For America- The first lengthy post on the blog. I propose bringing back ostracism.
• A drunk post, another one, here's one I sent from my phone in a bar while drunk,
• My obsession with Ben Curtis (aka the Dell Guy) is a running joke throughout the blog. Read about it here and then again, after he's arrested here. Ironically, I'm now friends with the Dell Guy that replaced him.
• I also rail against Andy Hicks, my "high school rival" quite a bit here, here, and here,
• I wrote a lot of reviews. This one for Metamorphoses, is one of my favorites. And my first attempt at reviewing art is something I'm still happy with.
• May of 2002 was when I started to really start talking about the WTC. More WTC rebuilding stories here, here,
• I love trains. Also, mountains.
• This story about my train trip from Albuquerque is one of my favorites.
• On the first anniversary of 9/11, I wrote this poem. Later, I adapted it into a short film. I also wrote a prose piece that's a lot less true, but is what motivated me to write the poem.
• Another poem. It's fun to see how embarrassed I was in presenting it.
• A riff on the New Yorker's "Talk of the Town".
• I tried to write a short story called Advent, which involved a new chapter every day, written in real time. I got to Day 16. Day One is here. The rest can be found in random order here. It's about a road trip my ex and I took two weeks after 9/11.
• I even did an audio blog post.
• The days leading up to the war found me at my most snarky and cynical. It begins with faked man-on-the-street interviews, continues with a review of a Simpsons episode, and once war was declared, an open letter to Bush. Right after you get some channel surfing, Ripley's Believe It or Not parodies, Oscar coverage, and analysis on the similarity between Saddam and myself.
• And I totally call how Lawrence v. Texas was going to swing the election way before anyone else did. I also called out the O.C. as awesome from Day 1.
• I piss off Craig Newmark of Craigslist. Part One & Two.
• And- my first dispatch from L.A.

I really wanted to bury this blog for a while, but looking back on it now, there's plenty of wince inducing moments, but also bits of writing and phrases that stick like shards of glass in my brain. I've cleaned up the code and got rid of the password protection I put up to ward people off. I created my new site to take a step away from the person who wrote Japhyjunket: depressed, cynical, manic and incapable of follow-through, but now that I've got some distance on kid, he seems alright. -Japhy Grant Los Angeles

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posted by Japhy at 6/28/2006 12:36:00 PM || #

Hello Cruel World. This is it folks. After three years, Japhyjunket is closing its doors forever. I hope everyone who's read this blog has enjoyed it; I know I really have. This may be a self imposed ending as much as any, but the time has come. The blog itself has suffered since I've moved to L.A. and the changes I would make to it to make it work would be so radical that it wouldn't really be Japhyjunket anymore. I grew up a lot on this blog, both as a writer and a person. I hope you'll stick around for what's to come. For those interested in these sorts of things, The Modern Romantic- at least the name, will appear in a new form in coming months. Stay tuned. You might also like Memedex. I'd like to end it all back where we began: Ben Curtis. In the early days of B.C. I'd write about my hatred of the Dell Dude, because well, he's more famous than me. A marijuana misdemeanor later, Mr. Curtis is set to perform in an off-Broadway play called "Joy". It's original title being "The Joy of Gay Sex." You see, we're getting closer to each other all the time. Finally, I'd like to thank the people who were the biggest supporters of Japhyjunket: Matthew, Jamie, Andy, Jill, Chris, Dad and Fiona. This is for you. -Japhy Los Angeles, CA

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posted by Japhy at 1/27/2005 01:30:00 AM || #

Goodbye #1 Hey there Constant Reader- If you've been watching this blog lately, you've noticed a few things: 1.) It is infrequently updated. (not really news, I realize) 2.) I keep talking about how it's going to shut down soon. 3.) I am randomly adding features, while other features go unfixed. The "Japhy" logo has remained obscured by the Blogger bar for months now, I know. 4.) I am very pretty. Well folks, it's happening. This is not the LAST post ever on Japhyjunket (that'll be on January 31st of next year, killing my baby on its third birthday), but it's one of the last. How come, you ask? Well- a few reasons.: I've been awfully busy, editing all day long in my day job as Editor-In-Chief of Cybersocket Web Magazine and then go home and work on scripts and also, I want to end Japhyjunket before I get bored with it. So what happens now? Well, the irony here is that you're going to get more of me than ever. I'm just not telling you where yet. When the dust settles I will edit and write on a few different blogs, which I will be sharing with other very talented writers. This means no more sitting around for two weeks waiting for me to post. In addition I've decided it'd be fun to do the kind of blog that I always bitch about: where I talk about my day, update whenever, do my best vividblurry imitation (though with less porn and bitchiness). I'll update that site whenever I damn please and of course will probably do far better than any of the carefully planned out ventures I'm working on now. Japhyjunket will be edited, revised and cleaned up and will probably be published in print in some form or another. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me over the years. Japhyjunket was my playground, sandbox and therapist's office all in one. Now, it's time for the big leagues.

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posted by Japhy at 12/12/2004 07:49:00 PM || #

New York Opening Worth Seeing If you're in the NYU area tonight, check out my pal John Movius' show " Sight Range: Photographs and Stories from Soldiers of Desert Storm." It looks to be a winner. Movius spent the past year meeting with veterans across the country, interviewing them and taking their portraits. Combined with the soldiers own personal photographs, the result is a humane and intimate view of America's fighting force. The show opens tonight, in Tisch School’s Gulf & Western Gallery (rear of lobby) located at 721 Broadway and remains on view through January 8th, 2005. The reception tonight is from 5-7pm. Gallery hours are 10 am through 7 pm weekdays, and noon to 5 pm Saturdays. Admission is free. For further information, call 212.998.1930, or visit Tisch Photography. The gallery show innagurates John's larger project— Regarding War, which aims to be online repository of amateur photos of war zones. Check out the beginnings of it here.

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posted by Japhy at 12/03/2004 10:44:00 AM || #

Tom Leaves, Network News Prematurely Declared Dead Tom Brokaw's departure tonight seems to be an opportunity for the press to stage a funeral-by-proxy for network news as a whole. With Rather leaving CBS in March, Peter Jennings will be the last of the three greats. All three started the same year and if you believe the Times, Fox News, The Post, or well- us bloggers, it's sunset for big-time anchors. Some of this is true. The network news will never again be the sole authority of the day's events, but to claim their irrelevance is premature. More people still tune into the network news than any other news source, be it print, web or cable. Sure, the audience is older, but so is the nation. The backlash against cable news networks has already begun. John Stewart has been crowned the new Howard Beale for his blistering appearance on Crossfire, Fox News' biased reporting style has been the subject of two documentaries and Larry King has been dead for years and is being played by a robot. Just as some people read the Times and some people read The Post, network news will remain important because it offers something that cable networks don't have— authority. Despite the best efforts of right-wing demagouges, the nightly network news are still the most respected institutions of broadcast journalism. Critics point to Dan Rather's 20/20 broadcast fiasco and claim that the news is unreliable and biased. Bullshit. Should Rather have personally vetted the documents he disclosed? In a perfect world, sure, but to call it an act politically motivated and sinister is ludicrous. All three major network news divisions chose to sit on politically sensitive news stories that might hurt the President until after the election, much to the chagrin of liberals. As long as both conservatives ad liberals both feel that the network news is biased in their opponents favor, the rest of us can breathe easy. As far as the power of the blogosphere goes, face it—we're not journalists. Rumors and overheard conversation does not a reporter make. It is the code of journalistic ethics and commitment to fact-checking that make the news simply more than gossip. In our nation's inexplicable obsession with turning populism into a celebration of the lowest common denominator, we are apt to forget that the reason we turn to elite and authoritative sources is because that they are superior. The network news serves a valuable function in our society and while it's easy to cynically declare them dead, we should think twice before doing so; imagine a world without them. As for what the future holds, here's what Tom said this morning on NPR: "We really are at the beginning here, of some changes of great magnitude in how we get information, exchange it, transmit it and I think it's very exciting. I'm only sorry it didn't happen twenty years ago so I could have been a different age and ridden the wave a little bit longer."

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posted by Japhy at 12/01/2004 08:48:00 AM || #

Japhy Go Boom Plus, Larry Kramer Gets His Ass Kicked, My Andrew Sullivan Connection, I Write a Novel and The Dem Ticket for '08 One of the great things about blogging is that you're free to write about whatever you want, whenever you want to. Later this week, I'm going to put up a guide to leaving the country, but first let me tell you about my awfully fun brush with death. Fascicle is Not a Pasta So I'm riding my bike home from the office on Saturday (yes, I'm a workaholic- yes, I have no life) and I'm riding past this Saturn SUV when the driver door opens and slams into me. Wheeeee! I'm turning all sorts of directions and then am on the ground, my pocket change spilling all over the street. Boo! Next thing I know, I'm being picked up by the driver of the car, a big El Salvadoran man who seemed to know what he was doing, so I follow along. We notice that I'm hobbling on one leg. I pull up my jeans leg and lo and behold, there's my muscle. No, not the outside part- but ya' know, the soft chewy center on the inside. Weeee! I'm all light-headed. I call my friend John and ask him what hospital I should go to and he offers to take me. The El Salvadoran holds my bleeding leg and tells me it's not bleeding too bad- that back home he's seen far worse from gunfights, but that it is kind of weird you can see my muscle underneath. Jon show up, I hobble into his truck and we're on our way. First stop was the hospital downtown, which was, what I remember of it- scary. Nobody was there and by this time I'm feeling the wooziness of shock. "Take me to where the rich people go", I mutter to John and off we go to Cedars-Sinai, whose ER has its own waterfall. Much better. An hour or so later, me and my gimp leg are in a private room. The doctor comes by and unwraps the gauze a nurse had put on it. "Oh wow, how did you do that?", is not the first thing you want a doctor to say to you, but I tell him that I think it was my bike chain that cut me and he explains how that's impossible. "See, look at this laceration. It's like it got hit with a really blunt object, like the back of an axe, or in your case, probably the car door. Your skin just burst open like a balloon and then just kept ripping." Why do doctors always sound so thrilled when they get to explain to you why it is that you're in pain? He continued "And all that stuff you can see? Those are fascicle. Like, when you eat a piece of meat, you know how there's sometimes that thin layer of fat over it? That's it." Coooool. So then I waited some more. Even at rich people's hospitals you wait a lot. John came back after grabbing some food and we watched The Women on the TV mounted to Craftmatic Adjustable Examination Table. In fact, I really lucked out with the bed/chair thingie. They had accidentally stuck me in the OB/GYN room and so was in the lap of luxury, at least for an ER. Any rate- long story made short: They cleaned my muscle out and I was the hit of the ER. Nurses kept coming by and looking at my leg and asking me excitedly, as if my giant gash were a particularly rare owl or something, "Have you seen this?" To which I responded, "Oh, yes, we're old friends." Finally they got around to sewing the damn thing up and John and I watched Joan Crawford get her comeuppance on the TV. Because of muscle damage they put me in a partial cast and was soon on my merry way. Today, after hearing of my plight, ABV came by my hotel and brought over my favorites: Pomegranate juice and Phish Food. Between his kind act, John's kind act and James Spader, I think I have reason to go on living. Still, I deserve lots of sympathy- I'm told that if I ever had any hopes of being a leg model, those days are over, but the upside is that I'll have a huge scar, which is awesome. In lieu of flowers, please send escorts. The Night Larry Kramer Got His Ass Served to Him On a Platter My friend Jared relayed to me how he chewed out Larry Kramer at a JCM hosted Q&A at Cooper Union. Here are the highlights, which I hope Jared won't mind me sharing, seeing as how he did this in front of a packed house of gays:

"[Larry Kramer] generalized gay people and said that he thinks gay people are better, smarter, more aware, etc etc.....he said it at least five times in his speech...I said that if you're going to generalize gay people, I'll put it this way...We're self-loathing self-absorbed hedonists...We only are politically involved when it comes to things that affect US (civil unions, adoption, etc)...That we're in denial about the fact that we were merely pawns for Karl Rove in this election.....That its completely selfish and counter-productive for us to keep fighting for "gay marriage" when there's a million more issues that are more important, like human rights, the environment, Africa, corporate ownership of everything, media control.... That its not JUST gay people who have HIV and use crystal meth...That HIV is the number one killer of young African-American females...That we cant keep separating ourselves and fighting for things we DON'T NEED. That we need to look outside of the fucking gay bubble.... I said "What's going to happen once we do get civil unions? What happened after black people were integrated into our schools?"They still got called niggers... And we'll still be called faggots. Get over it and fight for more important things." The audience, according to Jared responded with huge applause.

Pundits Don't Drive

While I've never met the man, it seems Andrew Sullivan and I are on a collision course of our own. While my first knowledge of Sullivan came from Michaelangelo Signoreli's posting a personals ad of Sullivan's that pointed out his preference for barebacking, since he has turned against Bush I find myself reading his excellent blog more and more. According to the site, he was in L.A. this weekend and I missed his appearance at the Abbey, but really who cares? What excites me is that he drops this little tidbit:

"I usually feel at a loss in L.A. because I don't know how to drive a car." (emphasis added)

As a 25 year old who doesn't drive and whose leg got mangled in the name of alternative transportation, it's nice to know that I'm not alone. Perhaps Andrew and I can team up to start our own PAC: Gay Bloggers Who Don't Drive.

Young Hemingway- only without the bulls, the war and the repressed homosexuality...Well, okay- without the bulls.

So, I'm working on doing National Novel Writing Month's 50,000 word challenge. I'm way behind at this point, but I'm determined to make it. Don't expect too much posting here over the next few weeks, since even for me, 50k is a lot. Check out my NanoWriMo profile through ought the month by clicking the icon on the sidebar. It will show you how far along I am and I'll keep changing the excerpts. The idea of the contest is not to write well, but write a lot, so I'm not editing anything, which is a freeing experience in itself.

A Ticket For '08

Finally, I have this conspiracy theory that all the networks are bringing up the idea of Hillary in '08, just so that we can hear the public outcry now, realize that nominating Hillary is political suicide (people hate her, hell- I kind of hate her and I voted for her) and move on. My personal choice for an '08 ticket at this point: Barack Obama/ Bill Richardson.

Both are brilliant, both are minorities (Republicans don't know what to do with unpasty people) and both are really pretty much all the Dems have got right now. Richardson, in particular, is really an underdeveloped resource for the DNC. A former UN ambassador, former Secretary of Energy and four-time Nobel Prize nominee who just happens to be Hispanic and from the swing state of New Mexico, you'd think you would have heard of him earlier- say...As Kerry's running mate? Whatever. Stupid Democrats.

Send escorts!

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posted by Japhy at 11/08/2004 01:10:00 AM || #

All My Friends Are Famous Some Just Make Movies Congratulations to my pal John Krokidas for landing a picture deal to direct a feature version of his short film Slo-Mo. If it's anything like the original, expect it to be a romantic comedy with a slightly sardonic edge, a great soundtrack and a turtle. While Gawker already covered this, the often underrated About.com reveals that Single Cell, which is producing the movie, was where John got his start as, according to producer Sandy Stern, "the world's worst intern." For all you self-professed Krokidiacs out there, here's some trivia: He loves Toffuti Cuties.

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posted by Japhy at 11/06/2004 08:40:00 PM || #

DISASTER The Culture War Begins At a friend's request I found myself at the Human Rights Campaign Election Party last night in West Hollywood. If there was a more liberal place to be standing on November 2nd, I don't know where it is. As the night wore on and the mood shifted to quiet talk of how fucked this country is, it became clear that I was standing in the crater of a social conservative a-bomb which had just destroyed the Democratic Party. I don't use that phrase lighty. The Democratic Party is gone. Toast. Finis. George W. Bush's neo-con evangelical movement has taken control of the country and in fact, the results point out that they really had been in control of the country all along. Let's not blame the Dem's too much. They did a remarkable job of energizing their base, moving to the center, creating grassroots orginizations and presenting an articulate vision for the country espoused by a candidate who- yes, is a liberal Senator from Massachusettes, but who really was the best they had. The party managed to unify progressives and liberal moderates, get minorities and the youth to vote in numbers they had not done so before, but at the end of the day, more people share George W. Bush's vision for America than John Kerry's. The Dem's didn't fuck it up, they JUST LOST. That is why this is a disaster. Forget for a moment the now inevitable overturning of Roe v. Wade, the prospect of unceassing bloody war and foriegn hatred. Dismiss the debt ceiling and our flailing economy. This is just the frosting on the NeoCon cake. What is truly frightening is that Bush and his cadre have gauranteed, short of a Bill Clinton rising up from some Southern backwater, thirty, perhaps fourty years of evangelical control of the government. Here's how: The Democratic Party will now fracture in two. One side will continue the old strategy of moderation from the center. The exit polls indicate that more than the war or the economy (which were liabilities for Bush after all), the deciding factor for voters are 'moral issues.' Expect the centirst dems to drop these issues like hot potatoes. Of course the biggest potato is gay rights and marriage. Though the Dems will never say it, expect them to privately blame gays and lesbians for costing them the election. Don't expect to hear them supporting any gay legislation for the next decade or so. The other splinter is the Progressive Movement. They wanted Dean, but played along with centrists because they wanted to see Bush go down so badly. This will never happen again. If Nader hasn't fully morphed into looking like the Evil Emporer by 2008, he should run again; he'll get huge numbers. Progressives are- oh who am I kidding, I am a Progressive. We're really bitter and dissapointed and the members who actually do vote will not be voting for a Democrat any time soon, especially since the Democrats will be morphing into what the Republican Party used to be. The country has shifted radically to the right and has done so by being scared into believing that it has been shifting left. I'm writing off the Democrats. I had registered Dem last October, but seriously, screw them. Hear that? Screw you. Here's why: You're an elitist party. My parents grew up poor. My first home was a trailer. Both of my parents are Republicans and part of the reason they are, I think, is because the Dems run their party like an Upper West Side cocktail soiree. How many times last night did I hear derision cast at the South and Midwest (which went totally for Bush) for being full of "ignorant" or "uneducated morons?" Guess what? Voters are unlikley to vote for a party that treats them like they are backwater hicks. They aren't. Get that through your skull, Democrats. Every major socially progressive movement has come from the lower class (the Civil Rights Movement, The Progressive Movement in the 30's, FDR's New Deal). Yes, you have lower class interest at heart. Yes, you deeply care about the plight of the poor, but get your hands dirty. Memo to John Kerry: Wearing an L.L. Bean jacket now and then does not constiute "getting your hands dirty." More to come.

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posted by Japhy at 11/03/2004 01:37:00 PM || #

"The dogmas of the quiet past, are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise -- with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country. Fellow-citizens, we cannot escape history. We ... will be remembered in spite of ourselves.... We shall nobly save, or meanly lose, the last best hope of earth... The way is plain, peaceful, generous, just -- a way which, if followed, the world will forever applaud, and God must forever bless." - Abraham Lincoln VOTE.

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posted by Japhy at 11/01/2004 06:44:00 PM || #

Update: Hurray for me! Search for "japhy" on Google, and I am the first entry listed. All other Japhy's: bow down before me! No longer am I second fiddle to "japhy's perl suppository!" I'd link to them, but it might tip the balance back in their favor. So, as you may have noticed- no redesign as of yet. Between putting out my first issue of the magazine I'm editing (more info on that later), editing and publishing a 200+ page web guide (much thanks goes to the excitable and irrepressible Jason Lee for erm...blorg), writing a spec script and looking for a place to live in mostly sunny L.A., the Modern Romantic just hasn't been on my mind. Whenever I find a spare moment, I'm checking electoral-vote.com. Also, because I promised to do a piece on it, I am a participant in National Novel Writing Month, which promises to be fun, exciting and 50,000 words. Truly, I have great plans for the Modern Romantic, but they will have to wait...I'd say till the beginning of next year. Small changes will be implemented in the next few months, however. Right now, we're deciding (yes, we- the new site will have multiple contributors) on whether Blogger can do everything we want to be able to do on the site or if we need to switch to new software. We'll be experimenting with different things over the next month or so. One of them is ads. I hope you won't blame me too much for selling out, but I aim to keep them fairly unintrusive. I hope to give you all some form of update as to the wacky insanity that is Japhy in L.A, but the wckiness is still ongoing. The thirty million dollar question is, naturally: Will it ever stop? -J

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posted by Japhy at 11/01/2004 02:19:00 AM || #

The Modern Romantic is clearly delayed in his arrival and Japhyjunket will remain until the end of October or so. It's raining here in L.A. and I'm happy for it. Frequent readers may enjoy this excellent review of Vertigo, which really may be my favorite movie of all time.

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posted by Japhy at 10/16/2004 11:29:00 PM || #

What I Learned from George In the past month, I got to see more of my president than I have in the last four years. There he was in three different incarnations over three nights, like the Fates or the Stooges. First there was sour old King George the Scowler, then emerged fist pounding Prince George of Lake Mistakeless and finally sunny King George of Botoxia who smiles at everything, be it dying children or the poor getting poorer. I watched his Royal Presidentness and listened, like America, did I ever listen. Here is what I learned. -Being President is a hard job. Like, really really hard. Even when 49% of the time you're on vacation, it's hard. Haaaarrrrd. -The "No Child Left Behind Act" is a jobs program. Also, a healthcare program. Never mind that it was underfunded. Just don't call it an education program. Wait, it is an education program. Also, since the children we're not leaving behind will most likely be shipped out to war, it's a Defense program too. -The problems with our healthcare system in this country are most definitely not the fault of this administration. Hee Hee Hee. Asshole. - Also, the fact that we don't have enough flu shots is not the fault of the government, at least not our government. Blame Britain! I learned that unless I am actually dying, or about to die, i should not get a flu vaccine. -Social Security is fine for the old folks who vote, but for us "youngsters" (he actually called me that. Fuck you.), we're pretty much screwed. -Bush NEVER said about Osama Bin Laden, "I don't know where he is. I -- I'll repeat what I said. I truly am not that concerned about him." What you saw at the March 2002 press conference was staged and saying otherwise is unAmerican™. -Also, Bush makes no mistakes. If he ever does, he hopes we'll all wait till he's long dead before pointing them out. -Bush is like Richard III. No, no, not that he's a desperate powermonger who will lie and deceive anyone in his desperate desire to have power, but rather, that he is a hunchback. -My favorite thing I learned, however, and frankly the reason why undecided voters need to cast their lot for Kerry is that, if reelected, Bush will appoint Supreme Court Justices who will overturn Roe vs. Wade aka "Dredd Scott II." Really, this guy just can't be our President. I mean, this is the Leader of the Free World we're deciding, not the next Apprentice. Who am I kidding? Bush is way more Big Brother than The Aprrentice. Let's just hope this will all be over soon. You better vote.

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posted by Japhy at 10/14/2004 01:21:00 PM || #

Downtown for Democracy's Excellent L.A. Adventure Halfway through the evening, I thought to myself, "If they bomb this auditorium right now, American literature would be set back 20 years." While Cheney and Edwards duked it out in Cleveland Tuesday night, UCLA's Royce Hall filled with what passes in L.A. for progressive activists: a mixture of liberal-leaning undergrads, subdued Hollywood power-brokers and aging hippies who laugh a little too loudly at every swipe voiced against the Right. This gathering of left, like birds on a wire come to roost, was Downtown for Democracy's "Take Back Your Democracy" reading. Modeled after the sucessful New York event last May at Cooper Union, D4D's Wrong Coast literary fete, lacked the energy and crackle of a New York audience, but who cares when you get the chance to see and hear Michael Chabon, David Foster Wallace, Susan Lori-Parks, Anne Lamott, Alice Sebold and Dave Eggers all in one night? To add specialness to excitement, "Everything is Illuminated" author Jonathan Safran Foer hosts. Foer began the evening, dressed in a polite and courteous suit by expressing his gratitude to be in an audience of people who shared his views, shared his core belief and shared his conviction that the Republican Party was the best goddamn party on Earth. His remarks to the audience outlined his core beliefs as a Republican and discounted the views of that other group who try to protect "this-so-called-environment" and so the joke continued. Sobering up his message at the end, he asked the audience to envision four more years of Bush. "We will be able to achieve so much more, unhampered by the yoke of reelection, think of the Supreme Court judges we can appoint, think about gun control and abortion, think about the economy, think about our relationship with the world, think about Iran and North Korea and Syria." The list lasted minutes and silenced the audience. First up to read, Michael Chabon (pronounced "chay-ben", it turns out) read from his upcoming novel, The Yiddish Policeman's Union, which can be considered another foray into the increasingly crowded genre of Speculative- Detective- Fiction- Set- in- a- Alternate -Future -in- Which - Jews- Rule -The -Earth. As he read in a harsh gravel monotone, his shaggy hipster hair seemed to transmute into the wild mane of some violent and outrageous rabbinical scholar. Truth be told though, it sounded interesting, but a little too-hard boiled for my taste. David Foster Wallace was up next with a work, which he claimed to be from his new novel, "terrifying called, The Yiddish Policeman's Union". Wallace's contribution, a character description of a schoolboy who asks his father to donate the money he would spend on buying the boy ice cream at the DQ to the Easter Seals, a boy who is essentially a litany of all the things a good person should do, a boy whom everyone hates, was by far the most stand out moment of the evening. The best part was watching Wallace, a sort of giant, burst out into laughter at his own words. He really couldn’t keep the guffaws in! Wallace is often charged of writing nothing but Best Little Boy in the World types, but whatever dude- they're good! Shut up already. Susan Lori-Parks followed with the overture from "The Last Black Man on Earth" and a piece from her novel "Getting Mother's Body" which she sang to us, her hands moving invisible dials in front of the podium all the while. Anne Lamott, who I did not recognize at the time, but remembered this morning wrote the excellent collection of essay's "Bird by Bird" shared the story of her 49th birthday, which occurred the day after the Iraq war started. There's such an easy style to her writing, but also to how she speaks, it's as if she's invited you into her kitchen to talk about her nervousness, her dislike of the desert and her prayer's to God that seem to be answered only with free ham from the grocery store. She's really good, folks. Alice Sebold came on next. Frankly, her story, "After the War" about a drowned house and a Contessa and a young man seemed moody and evocative but also lulling- as in, to sleep. As she spoke, her narrow eyes looked down on the page, making it appear to us watching that she was speaking to us with her eyes closed, reading not paper, but eyelids. Her fur jacket made her look like Nicole Kidman in Dogville, a mobster's moll. As you can tell, the mind wandered. Ending the evening was Dave Eggers, who Jonathan Safran kind of introduced in a way that made him sound like a reliable racehorse. "Of course, you'll all enjoy Dave Eggers. He will surely entertain you." I can't blame Safran though, I'm pretty weary of Egger's pseudo-highbrow manic schtick myself. Eggers didn’t fail to deliver, however, offering up a father’s explanation to his daughter of how he and his wife changed the world, rather rapidly, in fact. Most notably, amid all the electric cars and week-long elections and such was the idea that Cleveland ought to be covered in ivy, “as, you know, a tourist draw”. Best idea Eggers has had in years. The lights came up and in the front row, there was David Foster Wallace chatting it up with Alice Sebold. Mike Chabon and Anne Lamott seemed deep in conversation, Dave Eggers smiled and Susan Lori-Parks was nowhere to be found. It was as if that mass-produced Barnes and Noble Café wallpaper where all the literary giants got together for java had come to life. *Special thanks to Matthew Poe for inviting me to this awesome event.

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posted by Japhy at 10/06/2004 02:25:00 PM || #

Check it out: New Review of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow over at blogcritics.org. Observant Japhyjunket readers will note this is the first time I've ever written a movie review. Ever. I wish I could say Sky Captain moved me in some amazing way, but really it was the most recent reviewable thing I've seen and they've got quotas over there at Blogcritics.

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posted by Japhy at 9/26/2004 09:39:00 PM || #

Request to webmasters who link to this site: For now on the correct url to link to this site is http://www.themodernromantic.com This is change is permanent.

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posted by Japhy at 9/21/2004 01:11:00 PM || #

Check it out: New Review of In the Shadow of No Towers over at blogcritics.org.

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posted by Japhy at 9/19/2004 04:09:00 PM || #

R Ahoy Me Mateys! While me crew of sclawags and I are hoistin' up the mainsail to set sail for yonder new website, I wanted to tell all ye landlubbers that this Sunday, September 19th, is Talk Like a Pirate Day. Savey?

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posted by Japhy at 9/18/2004 05:53:00 PM || #

We're Thrilled, Too! All new Japhyjunket coming in October. This will be a complete site relaunch with all new crap presented in all new ways. NEW NEW NEW! In the meantime, please be prepared for hiccups as features are implemented. Also, check back on September 11th, as I'm sure I will post something.

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posted by Japhy at 9/08/2004 01:03:00 PM || #

In Case You Were Worried I'm Not Drinking Enough. Proof I'm Drinking Just Fine. Hurray For Blue-Eyed Aryan Types! Thanks to S. Carty's Sunset Junction Party for the booze and the drunken photos which resulted.

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posted by Japhy at 8/23/2004 04:02:00 PM || #

British Fads! In my continuing internationally flavored Olympic coverage (Hurray for the rest of the world!) I bring you a brief list of fads from the other side of the pond (ie: Great Britain, Merry Olde England, The Mother Country, Gitville). Like snaggle teeth and royal bottom slapping, expect to see them here soon. Doing "the Lynndie" - You remember America's Little Torture Sweetheart, Lynndie England, right? Turns out actual people from England have turned her signature move- pointing out a tortured victims genatalia with "hey baby" hands, into something of a dance craze. Seriously. Look at this. It's funny. Cuddle Parties- The Gaurdian claims that this fad's origins began in New York, which strikes me as some kind of anti-American smear tactic at best. That New Yorkers would invent "an event for adults to come together to practise welcomed touch and affectionate play and not have it be sexualised" is well, ludicrous. In fact, if you were to even invite a New Yorker to such an event the best you could hope for is that they would throw up on you in disgust. They would then take you drinking and leave you three days later in an alleyway in the Bronx with blood-stained panties and a maxed out credit card. I mean, for chrissakes, New York is a city that is rolling out "alcohol misters" to get the booze into the bloodstream faster. God. Cuddle parties? Fuck you Britain. Ephemera- The Ephemera Society of London is dedicated to the preservation of "the minor transitory documents of everyday life". What this means is that they like collecting things like train tickets (handwritten) and Certificates of Appreciation. Why? I have no bloody idea, but apparantley it's popular. Perhaps this is what lost empires do in their twilight years- after cataloguing and classifying every mammal, kind of soil and indigenous population on Earth, all that national taxonomic fervor must go somewhere- like Barbara Davies First Class Brownie Certificate

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posted by Japhy at 8/21/2004 01:47:00 PM || #

Let the Games Begin! There are few better arguments that Humanity continues to be a worthwhile endeavor than the International Olympiad. Watching the opening ceremonies tonight, seeing the endless shades of my fellow men and women marching together, not for the edification of their home countries, but in celebration of Mankind itself, I thought, "Yes, we are marvelous." This is what the atheletes who will compete in Athens truly represent. They are our greatest hope: A reflection of our world joined in admiration, skill and persevearance. The Opening Ceremony What a wonderful show Athens gave us. The story of Greece is the story of Western civilization and the Host Comittee created a beautiful pageant that felt like a History of the World directed by the love child of Stanley Kubrick and Julie Taymor. It was huge, sometimes esoteric, grandiose, but also incredibly human, or more rightly, humane. The sepctacle did not overwhelm its subject matter, ie: us. Did my mind drift to fears of terrorists? Yes, but watching the explosions of fireworks and the enduring flame of the olympic torch as it reached its way into Calatrava's sweeping stadium, I stood in awe of what we have, as a species, accomplished in spite of our own petty hatreds; I, and the world, was reminded what greatness our collective genius can accomplish. This is why the Olympics are so vital. They inspire us to live out its motto: Swifter, Higher, Stronger- not just on the field, but in our own lives as well. And while political leaders have tried to use the Olympic Games to push foward their own agenda, (most notably Hitler, most recently George W., whose latest ad implies that a vote for Bush is a vote for Michael Phelps) and athletes get caught up in scandal, the Olympics endure because, really folks, we need them. Japhyjunket's Olympic Coverage Because Japhyjunket can not compete with Bob Costas (who talked all the way through Bjork's Opening Ceremony performance) and NBC coverage ("Seventy Hours a Day!") , I will spare all of you from my attempts to become a sports journalist. Instead, I will do what I do do best- natter on about whatever weird esoteric subject interests me. In the spirit of the Olympics, over the next sixteen days, Japhyjunket will go global. I am lucky to have an international audience and would like to thank the people abroad who have chosen to read Japhyjunket. In tribute to them and the spirit of global unity that the games represent, I will offer up articles focusing on the top ten foriegn countries that read Japhyjunket. For the next two weeks, Japhyjunket belongs to you. The countries Japhyjunket will cover are: (links are to Olympic news for respective country) Great Britain Canada Japan Australia France Germany The Netherlands (whose native son, Tiesto becomes the first DJ to ever play at the Olympics) Belgium Spain Singapore

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posted by Japhy at 8/13/2004 11:34:00 PM || #

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posted by Japhy at 8/12/2004 07:27:00 PM || #

Hurray! America has its first openly gay governor! Boo! He's been cheating on his wife and he has children! Yahoo! News - N.J. Governor Resigns, Admits He Is Gay

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posted by Japhy at 8/12/2004 02:39:00 PM || #

Give Peace a Shoe What do Yoko Ono, Mos Def, basketball star John Irving and Converse shoes have in common? Turns out, they're all peaceniks. Join them tomorrow (Thursday) at noon in Times Square for a public gathering for peace. The Youth with a Purpose Choir will sing "Imagine" and Yoko will unveil Converse's Peace Chuck Collection of shoes, featuring artwork by John Lennon. It warms japhyjunket's heart when corporations use their obscene power and influence for, you know, good.

Link: http://www.converse.com/peace

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posted by Japhy at 8/11/2004 03:42:00 PM || #

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posted by Japhy at 8/10/2004 09:13:00 PM || #

Silverbacks of the (Hollywood) Jungle Tom Cruise: America's alpha male dons a silver mane and growls a lot in 'Collateral'. Defamer strikes again, because there is no such thing as TOO MANY Tommy Cruise jokes. Fay Wray: The 96 year old former lover of King Kong is dead. More importantly, she refused to have a cameo in the upcoming Peter Jackson remake. She'll never work in this town again Koko: The talking gorilla (not the NYC drag queen) has a toothache.

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posted by Japhy at 8/09/2004 02:38:00 PM || #

Hey, At Least It's not MY Poetry I've come up with an irrefutable proof on how any unselfish act is inherrently amoral, and I'll tell it to you, dear Japhyjunket reader, soon enough. The thing is, before I post it and thereby doom myself to being branded a heartless cynic for all eternity, I thought I'd share with you these song lyrics, because I found them by accident and I love them. Occasionally, I put a song on repeat for a good week or two. It's only been a day, but this one's a keeper. I'd reccomend checking out Jane Siberry if you haven't had a chance to previously. And for all you tea leaf readers out there, don't go looking for hidden meanings. It's just a damn good song and I like it, so pffft! Love is Everything Jane Siberry (additional lyrics by k.d. lang) (These are the correct lyrics to the k.d. lang version of the song. The lyric databases used the original lyrics and are incorrect) Maybe it was to learn how to love Maybe it was to learn how to leave Or maybe it was for the games that we played Maybe it was to learn how to choose Maybe it was learn how to lose Or maybe it was for love that we made Love was everything they said it would be love makes sweet and sad the same But love forgot to make me too blind to see- You're chickening out, aren't you? You're banging on the beach like an old tin drum I can't wait for you to make your whole kingdom come So, I'm leaving Maybe it was to learn how to fight Maybe it was to lessen our pride Or maybe it's just nature's way Maybe it was to learn how to laugh Maybe it was to learn to cry Or maybe it was for the love that we made Love was everything they said it would be love makes sweet and sad the same And love forgot to make me too blind to see- You're chickening out, aren't you? You're banging on the beach like an old tin drum I can't wait for you to make your whole kingdom come So, I'm leaving First I turned to you Then I turn away So you try real hard Lean back Oh, it breaks your body down So you try to run bigger, better, still but it is too late So take a lesson from a strangeness you feel And know you'll never be the same And find it in your heart to kneel down and say: "I gave my love, didn't I? And I gave it big sometimes And I gave it in my own sweet time. I'm just leaving." I'm just leaving.

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posted by Japhy at 8/07/2004 11:49:00 PM || #

Two Shades of Hallelujah k.d. lang with special guest Rufus Wainwright Los Angeles patricians and their pearl necklaced wives mixed it up with lesbian mommies and gay dandies this weekend at the Hollywood Bowl’s Canadian themed, “An Evening with k.d. lang”. While Ms. Lang and her special guest, Rufus Wainwright both hail from the Great White North, their connection is deeper than location; both musicians are luminaries in the all-too-narrow field of openly out artists who sing and write about their experiences as a gay person. While much of the audience was unaware of this fact, for those in the know, the chance to see such outspoken artists perform backed by the L.A. Philharmonic and at such a large and prestigious venue as the Bowl, was a real treat. While Mr. Wainwright and Ms. Lang may not be mainstream singers, their voices and styles suit the Hollywood Bowl’s deco elegance. Mr. Wainwright offered a brief set that extends his style into orchestral territory, with mixed results. Too often, on songs like “Oh, What a World”, Rufus’s nasal and overly arty mumbling style of singing seemed to work against the orchestra, leaving the audience the impression that the orchestra either irritated or intimidated the shy Mr. Wainwright. When the orchestra and Mr. Wainwright managed to see eye to eye, however, especially on a sublime rendition of “Poses”, you can see that this kind of expansive and more developed music may very well be the natural path for Rufus to travel down in the future. His nervousness aside, Mr. Wainwright managed to win over the audience with his charm, both when singing and interacting with the audience, with whom he floated the idea that he may be the next Mendelson. Ending his set with Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, a “song so good it deserves to be played twice”, Wainwright showed that while he may not be ready to enter the canon of great songwriters just yet, he is well on his way. After a brief intermission, k.d. lang arrived onstage to a roar of cheers. Comparisons to Mr. Wainwright’s style are inevitable, so let’s just get them out of the way. While both artists conjure up images of smoky café’s on the Left Bank, Ms. Lang is by far the stronger singer. Her voice is crystal, husky and brilliant. She owns the stage with a self-assurance that Mr. Wainwright has yet to develop. Coming out on stage in a suit, but barefoot, Ms. Lang is so at ease that while singing, she allows herself to dance and twirl around on the giant Persian carpet laid out for her. Singing mainly songs from her new album, the Canadian songwriter tribute, “Songs from the 49th Parallel”, covered songs from Roy Orbison and Neil Young as well as her Tony Bennett duet, “Kiss to Build a Dream On” and a “medley of her hit”, “Constant Cravings”. After asking the audience to close their eyes, hold hands (“because you know you’ve been dying to all night”) and channel the spirit of Pasty Cline, Ms. Lang sang a rendition of the country idol’s “Three Cigarettes” that was, well- perfect. Ms. Lang may have asked that we channel Pasty Cline for help, but k.d. lang owns this song all on her own. Ending the set where it all began, k.d. sang her version of “Hallelujah”, but by that point in the evening, comparisons were meaningless.

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posted by Japhy at 8/04/2004 02:48:00 PM || #

He's Gonna Take You Up to Glendale... Few artists can break down the artist/audience wall like singer-songwriter Daniel Holguin. With an irreverent edge and unabashed honesty he commands your attention with his songwriting and banter. Accompanied by a cello on selected songs, Daniel takes "coffee house" folk-pop music to a new level of unique sophistication. With a set of songs touching various genres he always leaves room for surprise and his audience wanting more. August 3rd @ 8pm All Ages! $5 Cover (Free with Valid College I.D.) $1 Well Drinks (it's an italian restaurant/bar/venue so bring your appetites, alcoholism, & ears!) Maurizio's 135 N. Maryland Ave. Glendale, CA 90047 Tele: 818.247.5600 www.danielholguin.com

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posted by Japhy at 7/31/2004 05:06:00 PM || #

The Princess and the Thief a fairytale   Once upon a time, in the great city of Carthage, long before it's fields were made barren by the Romans to the North and long before Aenius stole Dido's heart there lived a princess whose name time forgot.  Like all princesses, she lived in a great castle, filed with revelry and pomp.  Her life was an exciting one and she had been taught by the best scholars from Arabia.    One night there was a festival to celebrate the summer harvest.  There were spiced meats and delicate candies that smelled of jasmine and looked like peacocks.  The princess danced with many suitors that night, but they all bored her.  As she was about to retire to bed, a man approached her, covered in that gilt fabric for which the Persians are so well known.  He asked her to dance, and not wanting to insult the man, who was clearly royalty, she obliged.  As they danced, he talked of marvelous things- palaces that he had dreamed of in the night, scrolls that he had read about the nature of the earth, why the grass turned brown in certain areas and why it thrived in others.  The princess was fascinated and amazed that she had finally found someone to talk to.  She asked the man to come with her to a private courtyard.    By a fountain, she declared her love for him, for she was brought up not to be shy and to know what she wants when she sees it.  The man looked into her eyes deeply and said, "Princess, I love you too, but I am no man of noble birth.  I am a thief and I came her tonight to rob your father of his finest silver.  I am a man who has slept with harem girls and left them by the side of the road.  I deserted my people's army and I have swam for weeks on end in the bottomless ocean of opium dreams.  What I did in those weeks, I do not remember, but this scar on my shoulder was there when I awoke.  If your father's guards were to find me I would be sent to prison for life (for there was no death penalty in those days)."   The princess splashed the water of the fountain with her hands for a moment. "I don't care", she said.  "I love you and there is nothing I can do about that." "Then you must come with me, leave your home and live with me in the desert as a thief as well."  The princesses face turned a shade of ash. "I love you, but if I were to come to the desert and live with you as a thief and we were to fall out of love, I would blame you and return home and send my father's armies to track you down and return your head to me."   The thief rose and nodded his head in understanding.  "Then you do not love me and I will go."  The princess grabbed him tight and said, "No.  Allow me to become a thief myself and we shall meet again in the desert and live as bandits both.  As a princess, you and I can never be together, so I shall become a thief."   "I will not wait for you", said the thief, and he left, taking the princesses father's silver with him.  The next morning, the princess arose to a commotion in the main hall.  The silver had been discovered to be missing and the king was furious.  It was his father's and his father's before him and meant more to him then he could say.  The princess walked up to her father.  "I have taken the silver and hid it, father.  By doing this, I have declared I am no longer your daughter, as the law dictates.  You must banish me."  The king looked into his daughters eyes.  "I do not know why you would say such a thing to me, but there is no law that will make you not my daughter, and I will not banish you."  The princess narrowed her eyes.  "Whether you banish me or not, I am leaving", and with that she left.   The next months were hard for the princess.  Her first instinct was to run to the thief she so loved, but what good would a princess be in the desert?  The thief would surely grow tired of her, so she set out to learn all the tricks of the rogue, stealing from her father's friends and skillfully evading the police.  She became adept at knowing how to brush up against a merchant in such a way that they would not notice that she had nabbed their coin purse.  She learned how to use a scimitar, a weapon that she had an uncanny natural skill with.   Finally, she was ready.  She set off for the desert and inquired with bedoins where she could find the thief.  She tracked him down to a camp of outlaws living in a harsh, sun drenched valley.  Her heart pounded as she approached the thieves tent.  She flung open the canvas flaps and walked into the dimly lit hovel.  There she saw her thief, as handsome and dark as ever, and lying beside him naked, a beautiful girl lost in the bliss of opium.  The thief looked up at the princess, though nobody would ever guess that was what she was, seeing as how she was covered in dust and wearing clothes made of padded leather. " I had heard news that you were coming here and last week, I married this girl here.  I told you I would not wait."   The princess was crestfallen.  "Do you love her?", she asked.  "She fulfills my personal needs", he said with a wicked smile.  "You are doing this deliberately", accused the princess. The prince twirled his beard around his little finger.  "Perhaps I am, but it is you, who claimed that you needed to become a thief before you could love me.  Had you truly loved me, you would have left that night we stood in the courtyard and I watch you splash the water of the fountain."  The princess drew her scimitar.  "I do love you, I love you with all my heart, I have given up everything to come to your side."  The thief laughed. "No, you gave up everything to be a thief!  Be gone."  The princess stood her ground.  "I will not leave", she growled.  "Suit yourself, then.  You may sleep on that bale of hay over there, for I don't wish to see your dead body outside my tent."   The following weeks were agony for the princess.  Night after night, she watched the thief make love to his beautiful, but boring wife.  The thief,  whose heart was not as cold as he had made it seem to be, watched the princess suffer and felt pity, but also pleasure. For months, all he could think about was her.  Never in his life had he felt so complete then that night he had spent with her.  He had sat alone in his tent thinking of her hands and her soft white bosom and it had driven him mad.  The girl he married was beautiful to be sure, but she was not the princess.   At night, the thief slipped away from his wife and came to the princess and talked with her about all the things they loved together- the reason the pickerill bird sings only when it is to rain, the designs for a large tomb being built in Egypt that would reach to the heavens and beyond, the way tangerines tasted after being plucked.  The princess was no fool.  She knew that the thief still loved her, but that his pride had been hurt and so could not show what he felt.  She loved him so much, though, that she did not care, and she made herself weaker and weaker so that he could feel strong again.  The thief seized on this weakness and became more and more demanding.  Soon, she was living beside the camels and and washing his clothes.   One night she came to him, desperate and crying, all dignity just a distant memory. "Why do you not love me?" she begged.  "I have shown you how much I love you.  I see now tat you are a man who wants a wife who is a slave, who will be at his beck and call and never question him.  While I see that if we were equals, we would be so much stronger, I will be this for you.  Why do you not love me?"   The thief was moved.  "I did not fall in love with a washerwoman and a beggar.  I fell in love with a princess." He left her and returned to his tent and his wife, who waited inside.  That night, as the thief fucked his wife, he felt his mind wandering to the princess, though he tried with all his might to shut her out."   The thief arose in the morning and saw that the princess had failed to make him breakfast.  He was furious. The laundry lay in a giant heap on the dusty ground and the camels had been loosened from their posts.  The entire day, the thief could find no sign of the princess and he assumed that she had finally gotten fed up and left.   As the sun set that evening, the thief wandered up to one of the high dunes to see if he could make out any tracks heading away from camp.  He felt a hand on his shoulder. He tensed.  Only a master of true stealth and cunning could creep up on the thief without his noticing, and any man with those skills would surely be seeking some kind of violence or death, for the thief was a prominent thief, but a hated one as well.  He looked up.  In front of him, wearing the very gown she wore the night she met him, stood the princess.  "You are right.  I am no longer a princess and i will never truly be a thief and to think that I could ever be a washerwoman was foolishness on both our parts.  What I am is the woman who loves you."   The thief's eyes melted and he reached up for the princess, taking her in his hands and pressing his lips tightly against hers.  There clothes quickly fell from them and they made passionate love for hours by the desert moonlight, unaware of the cold, the sand, of anything but each other. When they had finished, many hours later, they lay together, staring up at the stars in the sky.  The princess was weeping silently.  "Why do you cry, my love?", asked the thief.   "All this time since I came to you, I had been in agony.  Watching you with your wife, who I know is not your true love has been torture, and i know that you meant to torture me and I accepted it willingly."   "That is all passed", whispered the thief.   The princess ignored him.  "Why I endured your abuse was simple.  Though you hurt me again and again, I knew it was not what lay in your heart. That underneath, you were a good man."  The princess moved a hand away from the thief. "But tonight, you have betrayed your wife, who you made the most solemn vow any man can make with.  You word means nothing.  Marrying a woman you don't love is unfortunate, betraying her is unforgivable."  With that, she drew with her free hand from out the sand her scimitar and plunged it deep with in the thief's chest, killing him as he gazed up at her. She looked down on her love's lifeless body.  "I shall return home and take my rightful place as queen and my first edict shall be, all thieves who are caught shall be put to death."   This is why, in our land to this day, we see it fit to kill a man who has done nothing worse than taking another man's lifeless property.

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posted by Japhy at 7/29/2004 05:57:00 PM || #

Family Values- GOP Style The Jersey GOP proudly gives us "The Republican Babe of the Week".     Winners include Condi Rice, Dolly Parton and Sarah Michelle Gellar (a Democrat).  fulfilling their mandate to "put the party back in the Grand Old Party", these Jersey pachiderms throw out forty years of feminism to offer you up HOT CONSERVATIVE BABES.  Then again, maybe the GOP doesn't know feminism occurred.    The weird thing is not that the party of "family values" is showing girly skin on its site, but that it also offers up a "Republican Dude of the Week" as well.  This is progress! If the straight-laced Republican men get t&a, then it only seems fair that the gals should get their own hunk-a hunk-a gun-toting pride.   So, who's this weeks "Dude of the Week"?   10 year old cancer survivor, Raymond Bautista.   Man, that's just sick.     And for all you appalled feminists- don't be.  At least not until you've checked out CapitalistChicks.com   Then, be appalled. I have to thank frequent Japhyjunket reader Jamie for pointing this one out.

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posted by Japhy at 7/20/2004 11:18:00 AM || #

Winning By Chocolate   Somehow, somewhere, I wound up on George W.'s mailing list.  I just received an email from our dear sweet first lady, Laura, asking me to volunteer for her husband's campaign. The cynic cries, what's the incentive?  Well, dear reader, I don't know about you, but Laura's offer of her recipie for Oatmeal Chocolate Chunk Cookies has swayed this citizen's mind.  Of course, she wants you to vote for them in the Family Circle election year cook-off, so um...she's a self-serving bitch. Still, Oatmeal Chocolate Chunk is far more tempting then Theresa Heinz Kerry's artsy-fartsy Pumpkin Spice Cookies.  Vote for your choice now.  The winner has determined the fate of the presidential election THREE TIMES!

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posted by Japhy at 7/16/2004 01:17:00 AM || #

I'm a Hipster, You're a Hipster, Aren't You Gonna Read 'A Confederacy of Dunces' Too? Whilst browsing through Amazon (Notice my wishlist in the sidebar. Buy me things.) I came across one of those little guides that Amazon gets members to make because they're too cheap to create content themselves. This Amazon.com list gets right to the point. So You'd Like to... Be A Hipster Artfag. Would I ever! Aside from pegging the artfag down as "the hipper-than-thou indie elite clad in pseudo-vintage clothes that cost more than your average used car" who drinks "le bier du jour (Pabst Blue Ribbon or Stella Artois)", the list of must reads and hears is pretty dead on. I'll proudly say I've read most of waitingforgoulet's list. Hell, I recommend The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle all the time and I think Matthew Barney is cool because he is overhyped. That this list is essentially a compendium of stuff I've seen or have seen my friends read is not so much sad, as proof.   Since the very core of being a hipster is to be jaded to all things "cool", and since hipster bashing is cool, I'm going to pronounce that it's okay to love hipsters again.  Especially cuz Billyburg's two-thousand miles from where I sit. Anyone got a Lucky Strike?

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posted by Japhy at 7/15/2004 01:00:00 PM || #

Jlink: Tom Mauser's son Daniel was killed at Columbine. Tom's started a petition to extend the ban on assault weapons like AK47's and Uzi's so that the tragedy that took his son won't happen again. Please take a moment and sign Tom's petition. LINK| Tom Mauser's Petition to Renew the Assault Weapons Ban

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posted by Japhy at 7/12/2004 08:53:00 AM || #

Jlink: This is a new feature to Japhyjunket. As most of you have noticed, this "blog" isn't really a blog at all, since very rarely does it link you to other sites, which ostensibly, is what a blog's about. My mama always said to give the people content and that's what i do, but apparently, I'll get higher ratings if I give you all some old fashioned blogging now and then. I promise to keep it spare and stick to my usual ramblings. Check out this imaginative scheme to disband California so that it can get more electoral votes. | Reimagining Federalism

Read more! (in beta)
posted by Japhy at 7/11/2004 11:31:00 PM || #

Stranger in Paradise To leave home always means something. It requires drastic tectonic shifts in the body and mind of the thing that moves. It's perception shift at its truest. Us humans are environmental creatures and this is never more evident than when your world is suddenly brand new. You are sudenly brand new. This is about L.A., of course. I'm struck not so much by the new surroundings, but the new, maybe better said dormant, parts of myself now emerging. It makes me question at times how much of myself truly belongs to me, how much of what I do and think is just stimulus and response and how much of it is actually of the soul, an artificial construct that I recently have decided to once again believe in. Los Angeles is nothing like New York. It's stucco and new inside and out. The angeled city has no structure to it. Coal refiniries sit next to mansions and water seems to be everywhere and nowhere at once. It could appear static. Sunny day after sunny day, it stands at the end of history. Where New York is a heirarchy, a karmic cycle of up and down, success and failure, Los Angeles is Zen enlightenment, every single emotion and facet of life buzzing all at once. I like it. I had not realized how calcified New York had made me. Scratch that. I had not realized that I had become so calcified. In the city (yes, it's still The City to me), I had become too obsessed not with self, but with guarding the self. Days after arriving in L.A. emotions that had become Manhattan schist began to burst forth with the water of love and pain and joy and hurt. In New York, this would have been devastating. I would have hid. Here, I am examing, for the first time, my weakness, my fraility. This is not a clinical diagnosis with the aim to cure, to rid myself of these symptoms. It's the freedom that comes with imperfection. For the first time in my life, I'm considering that it's possible that there are people out there who know more than me, who I can learn from and who I can be weak around. I suppose this sounds all very hippyish, and it probably is. I have always found it hard not to examine the world and myself...and others. It may also sound a bit naive, but I'm excited. I feel new again. Not different from who I am, but open to finding out who I am to become.

Read more! (in beta)
posted by Japhy at 7/07/2004 04:16:00 PM || #

How to make a Japhy

Ingredients: 5 parts jealousy 5 parts ambition 1 part instinct

Method: Stir together in a glass tumbler with a salted rim. Add a little caring if desired!