Convoluted Biblical Passages

Matthew 32:16-20

And Jesus said to his disciples, go now to harvest the fields and plow and sow until the harvest is abundant and plentiful and then rest. Go get some water or check your e-mail, for the day of reckoning will be slow and tedious so you might want to bring a book. I just got done with "The Da Vinci Code" and I really enjoyed it. That Dan Brown is a talented writer, a bit creative with historical facts but it's fiction and you have to take it as such. I have yet to see the movie. Actually, I "see" everything but I just couldn't forgive Tom Hanks for that haircut and I'm a fairly forgiving guy/God. Maybe it's just me but the man who played Forrest Gump should not have a pseudo-mullet with a glossy sheen. He looks like Judas or something.

Exodus 10:6-12

The children of Amram were: Aaron, Moses, and Miriam. The sons of Aaron were: Nadab, Eleazar, and Ithamar. Now, here's where it gets complicated. Ithamar was roommates with Miriam's son, Boaz, at State College. However, Boaz dropped out after his sophomore year to go to culinary school in Sinai where he met his other cousin, Naomi, who was the daughter of Nadab. Now one of their mutual friends, Zadok, owed Naomi some shekels from a Texas hold-em game from a few months back so Zadok was acting really messed up towards Boaz about borrowing some money. Then there was a flood and they all perished.

John 28:21-28

Jesus came to a town in Galilee, to a man's house who lay destitute and crippled. Jesus said to the man, "get up". The man gave Jesus a look of astonishment and said, "but Lord, I am crippled. I will surely fall". Jesus shrugged his shoulders and was about to leave the house when the man pleaded for Jesus to come back. Jesus gave the man a sheepish grin and solemnly intoned, "syk". At that the man rose from his bed and broke into the Harlem Shake in which Jesus quickly followed suit. The Lord was good. Blessed be the Lord.

An Oral History of the "14:59" Sessions

When music critics talk about classic rock albums, invariably Sugar Ray's 1999 LP "14:59" is analyzed, critiqued, and, at the end of the day, revered. Recently, Pat Michael's sat down with some of the people who took part in the making of this genre-bending excursion into aural bliss and put together this oral history.

David Kahn (Engineer at Scream Studios, Fresno CA.)-Right when they entered the studio, I knew these sessions would be different than those of "Floored". Mark was pretty heavy into Hegel around '99. There'a real dialectic in "14:59" that a lot of people don't see. Honestly, I don't think people were ready to see it. It really hit too close to home for your everyday American. Plus, MM was constantly listening to Boz Scaggs and I think that's evident throughout the album. People say great rock albums can double as great literature and to me the turntable coda to end "14:59" is in many ways similar to "The Grand Inquisitor" chapter of the "Brothers Karamazov".

Murphy Karges (bassist of Sugar Ray)- I would be lying if I said I knew how to play the bass before we went into the studio for "14:59". But something weird happened when Mark took the helm. It was really his baby. I'm not a particularly religious man, I mean, I have a tattoo of a cross on my bicep and some tribal marks on my forearm but outside of those, I really have a hard time with the institutional Church. That's why "14:59" was such a revelation to me. I finally believed. Those sessions were the most selfless acts of my entire life. A lot of people see Mark as a Jesus-figure but, they have it all wrong. I see Jesus as a Mark-figure.

Stanley Jurtz (Head of A&R for Capital Records): The year was 1999 and Capital was hemorrhaging money. I was doing a lot of self-medicating and reading a lot New Age healing brochures and then "14:59" arrived on my desk one brisk autumnal morning. The first chords of "New Direction" were an epiphany to me. I think the title track not only applies to Sugar Ray's new sound but it was also a wakeup call for my own life. The moment that track ended I picked up the phone and called my dad who I hadn't talked to in fifteen years. Just yesterday, my dad and I watched my son graduate college. I owe Mark my life.

Craig T. (passed by Scream Studios during the mastering of "Someday"): It's weird. I usually walk my dog down fourth and then cut up Main but that day, for some intagible reason, I decided to take Central which took Tiffany and I right by Scream Studios. I heard what would later be known as "Someday" which at that point had the working title, "Tuesday". Needless to say, the song had quite an effect on me. I started drinking shortly after getting home. Seven years later I'm in the hospital waiting for a liver. Sure, it's not entirely that song's fault, just like it's not Hitler's fault Poland was invaded in 1938. I know Mark is the charismatic host of "Extra" now but he's ruined one life and he will ruin more. You'll get yours Mr. McGrath.

Nose Goblins

“Eating one’s own boogers is a natural and healthy method of protecting oneself against infection, disease, and the opposite sex.”

-Socrates

boog•er *
noun
1 another term for Bogeyman
2 informal a piece of dried nasal mucus

*Courtesy of Oxford American Dictionaries

When one says the word “booger”, one rarely thinks of an alternative for the “Bogeyman”. For today, I will explore the humble origins of everyone’s favorite harvestable body function, the booger. The booger made its first appearance in recorded history on Egyptian glyph picto-stories in Thebes. Here, with help from histories Alta Vista, the Rosetta Stone, archeologists were able to decipher these inscriptions and discovered fascinating aspects of Ancient Egyptian life. The first sitcom was actually written in ancient Egypt. Thel title gets lost in translation, but “Israelites” is the closest interpretation. It was much like “Friends”, but with slavery. Perhaps the greatest discovery came in the field of medicine, where a section of the wall writings documented the key to an extended life of social awkwardness. Consumption of one’s own dried nasal mucus could extend the life of an Egyptian by 15 to 20 years and grant that subject immunity from most diseases, and these clowns lived by The Nile, so you know it’s legit. Idling in obscurity for the better part of 700 years, an up and coming Greek physician named Hippocrates discovered the booger during a spell of boredom and declared it a wonderful remedy for most ailments. The Greeks and Romans used the booger for almost 300 years with unbelievable success, declaring that the booger allowed them to accomplish incredible feats of architecture, civil engineering, and philosophy. Stating that the booger was a wonderful thing to ruminate on. After this, came the Dark Ages for the booger. The Catholic Church declared the ingestion of boogers grounds for excommunication and chastised those who practiced the ancient art of self-immunization. This method was forced to go underground with only a handful of practitioners a generation. Thanks to childish things like etiquette, the booger is now frowned upon by modern society, few know of the important role it has played in histories bouts with disease. It was in Europe, combating plague, in the New World with the natives, fighting off smallpox (can’t win ‘em all), and it was in the Halls of Montezuma and the Shores of Tripoli. That’s right friends pick, eat, and be merry.

Love Me, Please

I've always harbored the desire to be a "regular" at either an eatery, watering hole, or the like--one of those salt-of-the-earth types that wear trucker hats unironically and really earn their facial hair. One of those guys you enviously watch flop himself down at the counter, peck the orange haired waitress, Judy, on the cheek and order the "usual" from Sal. Sal always looks like he's been cooking in the same clothes for years and might be terminally ill but that "regular" gladly devours his BLT. So I decided to work extra hard at being benignly pathetic and really become someone people sort of know.

Morning: I greeted the busdriver with effusive pleasentries. I asked the portly lass what's it like to toil away all week only to snort your paycheck off the bathroom floor of some seedy bar under the freeway while the kid's are being watched by your alcoholic mom. Unfortunately, she did not register me as an old acquaintance which in retrospect makes sense because I never ride the bus. What kind of pathetic person do you think I am?
Outcome at "Regular" status: Failure

Afternoon:I walked into a nondescript diner--just the type of place I envisioned myself becoming a "regular" at. The waitress, who must have been a card carrying suffragette, seemed to resent the passionate kiss on the mouth I greeted her with. The cook, a large territorial Italian man, gave me a tuna sandwich after I repeatedly requested the "usual". He must have been freshly off the boat from Ellis Island and didn't understand my request. He should know I hate tuna. Next time, that fiery Papist better get it right.

Outcome at "Regular" Status: Failure

Evening: I knew this would be my last chance so I brought my familiarity A-Game to the local Irish Pub. I settled onto a stool where some red-faced, jowly man proceeded to ask what I was drinking. I demanded the establishment's finest Alcopop and stated I would settle for nothing less. This Gaelic publican looked at me in dismay, gurgling through his incomprehensible brogue that the place didn't serve such drinks. My nerves were shot after such a trying day so I swiftly begun weeping on the bar, curled up in the fetal position and, for once, I felt like a "regular".

Outcome at "Regular" Status: success