The Soapbox (preach, Red Man)

Mark Pincus on Mark Pincus

Pi — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:31:35 GMT

Hey all you Mafia Wars and Farmville Sheeple! Want to see Mark PunkAss brag about ripping you off, offering you malware, and scamming you in to lock-step conformity for his gain? This is the same guy who plagiarized my announcement under his name when I was attempting to save his abandoned Tribe site and then didn't deliver my promises and never so much as acknowledged me. Yeah, the premium subscriptions for ad removal was my idea. Sorry you didn't get your shirts. Here's the article (props to Chris Crismond): http://consumerist.com/5400720/mafia-wars-ceo-brags-about-scamming-users-from-day-one and here's the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7YaVVpK1G4&feature=player_embedded Now that people are discovering what I've been saying for a year and which I VERY PAINFULLY DISCOVERED ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO, Pincus is now acting all contrite (that he is not interested in contributing to anything which doesn't line his pockets) : http://www.techcrunch.com/2009/11/02/zynga-takes-steps-to-remove-scams-from-games/ And even went so far as to post about how he's so aggressively fighting the problem: http://markpincus.typepad.com/markpincus/2009/11/my-take-on-zynga-and-cpa-offers.html Meanwhile the $75,000 that the guys who ponied up for the opportunity to keep tribe afloat because Mark wouldn't invest any of his money in to it is spent, the site is back to being unstable, and I am quietly thankful that I walked away with less than 100 hours of work donated to learning the lesson. Don't abandon tribe because of this. Just stop paying the $5 a month, let the value sink to nothing in Mark's pocket, and tell the fucking world.

Premium Subscription

Pi — Fri, 22 May 2009 17:34:41 GMT

Let me call it an experiment that I implemented but was not given the opportunity to administer. Now Darren is leaving tribe. Pinkus and Trader have passed the reigns on to the first guys to pony up $75,000 which I'm sure has been spent by now. But Tribe's going to have to survive without my $5/mo. They've implemented none of my ideas except for taking five dollars and blocking ads. I'll take another look at ads in my threads, because honestly I'm not on tribe very often anymore. Enjoy that jet, Pincus. Good luck with the poker app and the mafia wars thingy over at FB. You're a dick, albeit an incredibly wealthy one.

Here ya go, Jackie (A blog post regarding my son)

Pi — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 00:30:10 GMT

Every few weeks I have a nightmare regarding Alex. I haven't seen him in eleven years now and I spNak'd his bitch mom in court yesterday over a child support issue. Usually these nightmares make me wake up crying. Last night's was a good dream, just bittersweet upon awakening. He was a little guy...just how I remember him...struggling to express himself. The thing is I always knew what he meant. He was a little scared because he couldn't find his shoes. As usual, he was afraid of getting a spanking (nice one, Tonya...you fucking heartless banshee). I kneeled down in front of him and smiled. "that's okay...close your eyes". He closed his eyes and we whispered in conspiratory levels to each other: "Do you remember having them?" "Yeah" "Do you remember what they looked like? Think hard" "Yeah" "Do you remember where they were?" "Yeah", and he ran outside to get them, little chubby legs pumping along. I awoke and got in the shower. That's when I remembered the dream. I smiled and thanked my God for giving me such a good dream. Then I wiped a tear from my eye and washed my hair. Miss ya, buddy. Did I mention that my ex-wife is a heartless bitch?

Mormons

Pi — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 19:42:18 GMT

I've been thinking about this while working this morning. Given their tradition of bigamy, wouldn't it make more sense to refer to themselves as a Morwomen? (YES, I'M GETTING ANTSY WORKING FROM THE HOUSE WHILE MY CAR IS BEING REPAIRED, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!)

Fletch (or Why Chevy Chase is the suckiest person in the history of everything that ever sucked including the fifth season of Night Court)

Pi — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 19:37:10 GMT

I was but a lad. A lad that read everything handy. We were on our way to the airport to go on vacation and I heard an advertisement on the radio for a new book called "Fletch". It was a mystery about a drug dealer who is tapped by a prominent business man who wants Fletch to kill him. Huh? WTF would anybody hire somebody to kill him? I made a mental note of the title and picked it up at a store while on that vacation. That was my introduction to Fletch. Or Irwin Maurice Fletcher ("people call me Fletch"). He was an investigative reporter who was undercover as a heroin addict amongst the homeless on a beach in LA. He was also a ladies man, a rebel, a smart ass, and one hell of an investigative reporter. The book read like a breeze and you literally didn't find out what and why until the last ten pages or so. I was hooked. There were several other Fletch books to follow, and a spin-off character named Flynn also had his own series of three or four books. All great mysteries, all full of humor, thrills, and general entertainment. By far this was my favorite author in the mystery genre (Gregory McDonald). Then Chevy Chase released his take in the movie Fletch. What the fuck? Chevy Chase as the sexy ladies man? Chevy Chase as the intelligent undercover investigative reporter? Wait a minute...Chevy Chase as FUNNY? Nope. He fucked the Fletch movie into the ground, and then managed to make a sequel that was three times as bad. The films paid a slight amount of attention to the premise of the story line, but the Fletch movie was a rip off that killed the Fletch book franchise. Chevy Chase is a smarmy, smug, cocaine-addled stand up comic who lucked his way to fame. The only movies where he managed to pull of being entertaining were the two Vacation movies written and directed by John Hughes. The same John Hughes who wrote Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles wrote some of the greatest National Lampoon stories ever printed. My Penis, My Vagina, and the two stories that made the only two good Vacation Movies are just a sampling of the edgy, dark humor this guy wrote. Conversely, Chase was the only anchor around the neck of the comedic classic Caddy Shack. He is a fluke and every year he goes without making a movie is a good year for movies. He is every bit as bitter and difficult to work with as the (once funny-now just as smug and unhappy) Bill Murray, and every bit as relevant as (once the funniest straight man in the business, now pretty much retired) Dan Akroyd. He's done. Washed up. Good Riddance. I've carried my resentment on this for a few years. As little as six months ago I thought, "man...he probably bought the movie rights from McDonald and there will never be a resurgence of that great, original character and mood. Now today I got an email from an old friend who shared my love of the books and my hatred of the movies. Kevin Smith was originally slated to make Fletch Won (a prequel...NO CHASE!). He wanted Jason Lee to play the young Fletch, Miramax wanted Brad Pitt (no!) or Matt Damon (maybe). Now Smith is off the project. Josh Jackson is rumored to be the new Fletch, as is Dane Cook and Ryan Reynolds. God, I hope these are rumors. Please, please, please make this a quasi-humorous mystery instead of a quasi-mysterious comedy.

The Zombie Apocolypse and Zombies 2.0

Pi — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 20:33:50 GMT

I used to be okay with zombies. They moved slowly, they were dumb as bricks, and a simple broken pool cue through the eye socket was enough to take down one. All of the other zombies would stare at their fallen zombie-brother, make a half hearted attempt to avenge his re-death, and then shuffle off to find either a sick woman or a black guy (because they were always guaranteed kills for zombies). Besides, I'm a fire dancer. Zombie flesh isn't like human flesh. Zombie flesh is more like cheap kero mixed with linseed oil. A flick of a cigarette ash was enough to create ZombiePyre. If you didn't happen to have a cigarette all you'd have to do was put the zombie in a 55-gallon drum and leave it in the sun for ten minutes and it would spontaneously combust. Hell, a child could decapitate a zombie from fifteen paces with a boomerang or a sling shot. That was then. Now we have these Zombie 2.0s. These fuckers are fast. Not only are they fast, but they are incredibly strong and markedly cunning. It’s only a matter of time before they start using net books and smart phones to communicate coordinates and we’re all in for a world of Zombie-Hurt. Plus the product line was expanded to include zombie animals. Dogs and rats are dangerous enough, but zombify them and they become lethal killing machines with super agility and the ability to burrow better than we ever could. I’ve explained to my cats that I love them but I will have no problem killing them if they show the first sign of becoming zombies. And there is no such thing as a vegetarian zombie. They no longer go for brains alone. They want the whole enchilada. In fact that’s all we humans are to them…slow moving, vegetable-craving enchiladas. 2.0 Zombies do have some new weaknesses. I don’t know if it has to do with any cross-breeding they did with vampires, but zombies are now incredibly susceptible to sunlight. It burns them on contact. Of course this means that we won’t have to worry if a zombie apocalypse happens while we’re all at burning man, but we won’t know about it until we head back. I guess they could sneak in to BRC in RVs during the evening, but could they keep quiet during the greeter’s check? We just don’t know enough about these new breed zombies to form these types of presumptions. Even if they do come at night, hell…we’re at burning man. We burn shit all night long. But we shouldn’t let BRC allow us to grow complacent. Classic Zombies were only infected when actually bitten by zombies. This new breed of fancy zombie appears to become infected usually by something as innocent as a new beauty treatment, some type of inoculation, or even airborne viruses. And once they are infected, the quickening happens…well…quick. You barely get a chance to tell your 11-year old daughter that you love her and next thing you know you’re attacking her with brut zombie-strength. Even if you do manage to outsmart these super-zombies and take a bunch of them out (I suggest a 30-.06 to a propane tank from 1000 paces), you still can’t touch them. Just one whiff of zombie rot might be enough to infect you. We just don’t know yet. One thing is for sure…a single drop of zombie blood (or slime…whatever pumps through their undead veins) in the eyeball or ear canal and PFFFT! You’re toast. I continue to study martial arts very diligently. I’m stronger and better trained than most, but what if we get zombie flies? We’re royally zombie-fucked, that’s what. I guess the safest place would be in a Hummer with a machine gun turret. But that’s only gonna take us as far as the next gridlock of abandoned vehicles. And forget about getting out of your huge-ass, well-equipped military vehicle to try to move some of those cars, because just like Classic Zombies, Zombies 2.0 love hiding in abandoned cars. All I know is we need to learn more.

Wow...

Pi — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 00:24:47 GMT

I'm going to start off by saying I've got a lot of respect for cops. They have a tough job with little support and have to execute it in a very ethical fashion, often while under scrutiny from biased parties. The temptation to over react is always in the background and their ability to swallow their pride is commendable. I've often seen cops step over the line; I've even argued and threatened them (punitively) when they have. The only times I've been in jail were for traffic tickets that have gone unpaid and I've never spent the night in the slammer on the wrong side of the bars (remember that I once worked at Folsom). At BRC I've gotten somewhat aggressive with them (verbally and only when I was goddamned sure I was in the right and had level headed witnesses). Yeah, there are some bad apples in there. The problem is that those bad apples have the same guns as the perhaps 85-90% that are stand-up guys simply trying to do their jobs, go home, and sleep at night. I have a big problem with gang bangers. I freakin' hate them. I hate the whole 'turf war' bullshit, I despise selling little rocks of death so some asshole can go buy a C350 while he's still living at his mom's house. I don't like the predatory way they induct children into their ranks so they move up a notch in their particularly harsh version of AMWAY. I am disgusted when I see a bunch of them swaggering down the street scaring the hell out of decent people who are just trying to get on with their day. If you and a group of your friends band together for protection, cool. I've got no problem with that. If several people band together for predatory purposes that makes them cowards and bullies. So I guess a few people got in an altercation on BART on New Year's Eve. Were they bangers? I don't know. Were they loaded and hyped from a night of partying? Most likely. Was one of them cuffed and shot in the back by a BART police officer? Yep. And here is the video to prove it: http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_11369592?source=most_viewed The word "Pig" comes to mind. And that asshole just made every single other BART police officer's job ten times harder. When BART settles the lawsuit (it will never see a jury verdict), it is going to take money out of their budget. When that money comes out of their budget it will cost them services, eliminate positions, or force them to increase fares. All because some murderous thug who is strangely referred to as a two-year 'veteran' (maybe at McDonald's, son...in Police Landia it is a twenty year hitch and 10% in means fuck all) killed somebody already in custody.

Bored bored bored

Pi — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 17:44:43 GMT

I'm sick. Lena gets to put up with me tossing, turning, SNORING, moaning, coughing. And I'm bored. Daytime TV actually makes sick people feel more sick, so that's out. The cats are avoiding me because they realize I'm bored and that gives them an opportunity to torture me. I'm going through email correspondence for work, doing the phone thing, etc. but I am BORED. I want to be at work/in the dojo/playing guitar/anything but laying in bed on my stupid laptop pretending I'm being an effective commercial broker. This is a face time business and I'm way too worried about money to be sick and not at work. Somebody tell me a story or something.

Bushisms

Pi — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 21:26:50 GMT

Just ran across this on Yahoo. Garry Trudeau has a nice collection of them as well: President George W. Bush will leave behind a legacy of Bushisms, the label stamped on the commander in chief's original speaking style. Some of the president's more notable malaprops and mangled statements: ___ • "I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully." — September 2000, explaining his energy policies at an event in Michigan. • "Rarely is the question asked, is our children learning?" — January 2000, during a campaign event in South Carolina. • "They misunderestimated the compassion of our country. I think they misunderestimated the will and determination of the commander in chief, too." — Sept. 26, 2001, in Langley, Va. Bush was referring to the terrorists who carried out the Sept. 11 attacks. • "There's no doubt in my mind, not one doubt in my mind, that we will fail." — Oct. 4, 2001, in Washington. Bush was remarking on a back-to-work plan after the terrorist attacks. • "It would be a mistake for the United States Senate to allow any kind of human cloning to come out of that chamber." — April 10, 2002, at the White House, as Bush urged Senate passage of a broad ban on cloning. • "I want to thank the dozens of welfare-to-work stories, the actual examples of people who made the firm and solemn commitment to work hard to embetter themselves." — April 18, 2002, at the White House. • "There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again." — Sept. 17, 2002, in Nashville, Tenn. • "Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." — Aug. 5, 2004, at the signing ceremony for a defense spending bill. • "Too many good docs are getting out of business. Too many OB/GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country." — Sept. 6, 2004, at a rally in Poplar Bluff, Mo. • "Our most abundant energy source is coal. We have enough coal to last for 250 years, yet coal also prevents an environmental challenge." — April 20, 2005, in Washington. • "We look forward to hearing your vision, so we can more better do our job." — Sept. 20, 2005, in Gulfport, Miss. • "I can't wait to join you in the joy of welcoming neighbors back into neighborhoods, and small businesses up and running, and cutting those ribbons that somebody is creating new jobs." — Sept. 5, 2005, when Bush met with residents of Poplarville, Miss., in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. • "It was not always a given that the United States and America would have a close relationship. After all, 60 years we were at war 60 years ago we were at war." — June 29, 2006, at the White House, where Bush met with Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. • "Make no mistake about it, I understand how tough it is, sir. I talk to families who die." — Dec. 7, 2006, in a joint appearance with British Prime Minister Tony Blair. • "These are big achievements for this country, and the people of Bulgaria ought to be proud of the achievements that they have achieved." — June 11, 2007, in Sofia, Bulgaria. • "Mr. Prime Minister, thank you for your introduction. Thank you for being such a fine host for the OPEC summit." — September 2007, in Sydney, Australia, where Bush was attending an APEC summit. • "Thank you, Your Holiness. Awesome speech." April 16, 2008, at a ceremony welcoming Pope Benedict XVI to the White House. • "The fact that they purchased the machine meant somebody had to make the machine. And when somebody makes a machine, it means there's jobs at the machine-making place." — May 27, 2008, in Mesa, Ariz. • "And they have no disregard for human life." — July 15, 2008, at the White House. Bush was referring to enemy fighters in Afghanistan. • "I remember meeting a mother of a child who was abducted by the North Koreans right here in the Oval Office." — June 26, 2008, during a Rose Garden news briefing. • "Throughout our history, the words of the Declaration have inspired immigrants from around the world to set sail to our shores. These immigrants have helped transform 13 small colonies into a great and growing nation of more than 300 people." — July 4, 2008 in Virginia. • "The people in Louisiana must know that all across our country there's a lot of prayer — prayer for those whose lives have been turned upside down. And I'm one of them. It's good to come down here." — Sept. 3, 2008, at an emergency operations center in Baton Rouge, La., after Hurricane Gustav hit the Gulf Coast. • "This thaw — took a while to thaw, it's going to take a while to unthaw." Oct. 20, 2008, in Alexandria, La., as he discussed the economy and frozen credit markets.

1/4

Pi — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 18:24:09 GMT

January 4th. Fuck I dread that day. It’s getting better and I’m finally approaching peace with my Pop having the remarkable bad taste of dying on me four years ago. I went to the dojo yesterday to their annual After-Holiday party. I awoke in the morning with a very congested head and it just got worse as the day rolled on. While I was socializing at the party I started hearing all kinds of crap that just underscored the sober nature of the day’s milestone. One of my instructors is nursing her (84 year old) father through his terminal stage. Her roommate, who is another instructor of mine, has a husband who was recently diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer (the same crap that took my dad out). This guy elected to have the surgery that my dad shied away from, yet managed to pop a staple and leak bile in to his lungs. He almost died on the surgery table the previous night during the corrective procedure, and then he almost died again that very morning. Fuck. I’ve just recently been able to start joking about my dad, but it always burns a little when I do. I miss you, Pop.

What's with all the spam on tribe lately?

Pi — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 18:12:30 GMT

I don't know if it is only going to active Mods, but I'm getting anywhere from one to five spam messages in my inbox every day. Usually they're from some job site, but now they've moved up to online pharmacys and web cam sites. This is fucking stupid. We can forward them to the non-active abuse@tribe, we can forward them to Darren too-busy-to-deal-with-it-let-alone-respond, or we can delete them.

The Stripe Test

Pi — Sun, 23 Nov 2008 00:55:39 GMT

I had my first martial arts test since February this week. True to the sneaky nature of my Senseis, they sprung the true test on me in a stealthy manner. I went up on the test board about six weeks ago. The test was to be last night. On Weds I went in to the dojo and they started my Resisting Uke (opponents that put up a lot of resistance) test for an hour. That's when I was told my test was sort of starting. That lasted for a little over an hour. I was told to be there Thurs evening to continue. That one went over some more advanced material and lasted a little more than an hour and a half. What was cool was that I was actually holding my own against a couple of advanced belts during that portion. I walked in to the dojo last night already beat up and sore. My last test was a hellacious experience that lasted three hours. This one lasted three days. Background on my dojo and my Master. Master Ito was presented with Professor Bin Phi Lau’s scrolls by Professor Lau six months before he died. Professor Lau was one of the original seven who brought Kenpo from Okinawa to Hawaii. Hanchi Bruce Jutnik is his best friend (Hanchi Bruce learned Kenpo from Master Lau through the bars of a jail cell…he learned it *verbally* with one lesson every six months). Master Ito cried once during a lesson when he learned that Professor Imi Mullins (the only female in the original seven) had passed away. She was eighty and she two-inch punched Master Ito while he was defending himself. He flew five feet and landed on his ass in front of the entire dojo. At the time that incident happened, she was ravaged with cancer and was undergoing Chemo. This shit is the real shit. Master Ito has been teaching close to forty years…he’s awarded only ten black belts during that period. Lena and I both looked at each other one day when Master Ito moved his hand perhaps six inches from a relaxed position to a sword hand…the air whistled. This isn’t McKenpo. This is the cream. I’ve known him since I was fourteen. Two thirty year veterans of his dojo haven’t received their black belts yet. Sensei had us on the mat at 6:00 last night. We reviewed, warmed up, and stretched for a half hour, went and got our final drinks of water (more on that later) and he sat us down for a minute. Then he gave "The Scary Speech". This speech was different from "The Bucket Speech" back in February. He talked about how tests at this level went way beyond physical. There are a few concepts that we strive toward. The first is based on two prong approach to concepts (Yin and Yang). The second is three-prong (balance the mind, body, and spirit). Okay, we've all heard that. But how do the two relate? For all you spiritualists out there, realize I've been studying martial arts since I was 14, I was raised as a spiritualist by my proto-hippy mom, and I'm no stranger to the According to Hoyle definitions of Yin and Yang as well as Prosperity in Mind, Body, and Spirit. But applying it to a martial arena is akin to running a marathon while reciting the Iliad and solving math equations. It is fucked up and the more I learn about it, the less I know about it. Okay...we covered the concept of two and the concept of three. Then there is the concept of five (The Elements) and the concept of eight (The Octagon). But the concept of eight gets multiplied by several different planes (wall planes front and back, wheel planes left and right, floor planes low high and middle, and so many combinations of each). Master Genzo told us on Weds that this test was going to be much more cerebral. He wasn't fucking lying. Okay, right on...not so physical 'cause we're going to be focusing on the mind. Sensei Ito made sure that we knew last night that this wasn't the case. The Scary Speech was to let us know that the mind was going to be tested in addition to the body. The only thing that would allow us to survive these two tests and actually pass was the spirit. This test was going to be endurance-based, several would fail, and a few would pass. Wait a minute...what about cerebral? Hey...hold on...we were tricked! First we have the test start two days early, and then we're told that it would be cerebral and now we're told it is going to be endurance based. FUCKERS! Sensei continued. “You may think you have friends in this room. You have no friends tonight. You have no competition tonight. Do not talk to these people you think are your friends. Do not look at them. There is only you. Only your mind and body will take you through this test. If you fail you get to do it again in a couple of months” "Upper belts in front of Sensei". Fuck. That's me. "Lower belts behind upper belts...follow their example". Which example would that be, Master? The one where we stand there dumbfounded that we've been tricked in to a three day test that these little bastards don't even know about? "Right leg back, fighting guard, bend your knees....lower....LOWER!...and....forward snap kick....HAJIME!" 10 forward snap kicks on right, 10 on left. Same drill for the following kicks: round house front, round house power, side kicks, rear kicks, double kicks, triple kicks. Okay...so far so good. 140 kicks in and I'm doing alright. Little sore, but not bad for day, three fifteen minutes in. I remember that Miss Hicks told a bunch of people that they would be out of there by nine or nine-thirty. Hell..it's already...uh...crap...a little after seven. Then it was novice techniques. We go through 32 novice techniques (twice each) and one Kata two sides, four directions. Bitchin…we’re flying. Master Genzo tells us we’re moving on to Orange and Ito pipes in… “Stop”. Fuck. “I’m not happy with what I’m seeing,” Sensei stated, “You upper belts need to do this as upper belts. Not as white or yellow belts. I want to see it looking like Purples doing it as purples and Oranges are doing this as oranges. You need to get down in your stances and use leverage or there are going to be a lot of people failing.. Mister Genzo. Start from the beginning. I started going through my white and yellow Attitudes of Practice in my mind: • I can • Do right • Be respectful (even when you wish you could pipe in that some water would be nice) • Be patient • Practice to do • Don’t show off • Self defense only And started saying “Do right. Do right,” over and over in my mind. 7:30 PM. I wasn’t going to look at that fucking bastard clock anymore. I’ve clearly gone in to some vortex where space and time have become disconnected and we’re only on fucking White and Yellow stuff. 9:30 is two fucking hours away. Fuck that bastard clock. Back to square one. Back to the fucking 140 kicks. Back to the 32 (meaning 64) techniques. Back to fucking Kata 1 eight times. Back to….HOLY FUCKING SHIT MY GODDAMNED LEG IS CRAMPING! IT’S SEIZING…IT’S COLLAPSING FUCK FUCK FUCK!!! I couldn’t collapse. I couldn’t leave the mat. If this happens in lower belt shit I’m a dead man. I envisioned the pain migrating up my body and the energy dispersing through my hands as I exploded in to techniques. Yeah…not quite. I did manage to stay upright (leaving the mat, asking for a break, or becoming injured or infirm is an automatic fail). My hands were in weapon and sheath and were shaking. Genzo glanced at me and I could read his eyes: “Dude…you’re not going to make it”. Fuck that noise. I’ve been studying for nine fucking months for this test. You bastards have fucked with my mind so much during that time. I’ve mentally given up so many times during that time. I’ve asked what I need to do so many times and have received so many vague answers that I had to think about for weeks before I figured out the goddamned double speak. I may not pass, but you’re going to goddamned know that I gave it my best. Finally we advanced to the third belt Kata. I did pretty fucking good on that one. Particularly for a guy decades older than the next oldest advancement candidate. Then we went in to third belt kicks. These are fucked up and there are 13 of them. 13x2x10=260. 260 + (140x2) = I’ve done 440 kicks so far tonight and the crane, delivery, retraction, and reset had to be solid in all of them. Trouble is that I also just eight versions of the second Kata which is three times longer than the first. Now on to the three versions of takiyoko Kata (a four hundred year old Kata) and junipo (a six hundred year old Kata). Now it is all about form. Form while I’m getting ready to collapse. This part of the test is the one good part about having so many people in the test. They took us in waves. The upper belts went out first and did takiyoko shodon (first form). We nailed it and were sent to the back of the room. Then the lower belts did their TS. Twice. That bought us about two minutes of rest. Then we did takiyoko nidon (second form) and nailed it. Lower belts twice again (phew!). Takiyoko sandon (third form). Same thing, us once and lower belts twice. Now it was on to third belt techniques. They lined us up in two rows facing each other. Now let me make this perfectly clear: I sweat when I’m in the dojo. A lot. Sweat means you are working it. I was teamed with Daniel who is the next strongest in that test after me. Cool. Daniel can take a punch and a kick. Master Genzo started conditioning us for this when the test unofficially started on Weds. He started having us work what is known as Resisting Uke. Resisting Uke is where you place somebody in a (example given) headlock like you are trying to cut their air off. You resist their techniques. You make them take you out. When you are the tore (the defender) you kick their ass. Orange attitudes: • I can do better • More practice to improve • Improved basics • Don’t show off And I put that poor kid in to a full nelson that would have taken out anybody else. And he nailed it. He took me down. My turn. Here is where we inject the orange theories of practice: • Balance (equal weight in stances) • Form o Definition of knowledge/What you know o Focus  Mental-think about your target  Visual-look at your target  Physical-strike your target And last but not least  Power o Stability in stances o Mass weight-more body behind your kicks and punches o Speed-the final element in this level This separates the enthusiasts from the apprentices. This is where people sometimes get hurt. We rotated around the room with each of us working with every single student in the room simultaneously. I looked at the clock again…9:00. We’re supposed to be wrapping up soon and there is so much we didn’t go over. So what did Sensei do? He separated the fourth belts from the third belts and told us what I honestly didn’t think we were going to be tested on tonight. He told us to grab our weapons. Then he told the third belters to prepare for final workout. Okay, this was different. We started working our blocking and striking Kata with Jo and sent the third belters off to Purgatory where they stand at the back of the room in deep, square horse stances while the judges discuss their individual performances. They were against that wall for I don’t know how long and we were under strict instructions to not look at them. It was us and our weapons. Purple attitudes:  Make it work  All out effort  Practical use only  Don’t show off  Self starter  Prove the theories (practice and patience; form, balance, and power) Theories of practice  Soft hand. Water invades all other elements. It wears down earth, it fights wind, it destroys metal, and it rots wood. Take that water and turn it to ice once it has invaded these other elements and it will destroy them instantly. Gather your energy through the earth when you are relaxed. At the moment after impact with your target, tighten that hand and release all of your energy in to your opponent. It will destroy your opponent’s energy (and take out a couple of vital organs at the same time).  Sticky hand. Redirect your opponent’s energy so you absorb it. Use it against them  Consistent practice. You are what you practice. If you practice in spurts you will not be able to rely on your training. If you practice poorly consistently you will not be able to rely on your training. If you strive to improve, if you strive for it every day, you will be able to rely on your training. Not just in Martial arenas, but in all walks of life AHA! I had been wondering where the cerebral part of the test was. I had been doing it the whole time. The fucker tricked me in to thinking he was lying. How very Asian of him. The four upper belts rotated around a circle, each of us calling out the blocking and striking katas in turn while the others followed. They always threatened that we would be tested on weapons during a belt test, but this was the first time we’d done it. Goddammit, I just won a silver medal last weekend for weapons use…wasn’t that good enough? “Stop”, Genzo instructed us. Drop your weapons. Four weapons drop. Get in a deep square horse and don’t move. But…but my legs are cramping and I haven’t had water for over three hours now. Sensei presented four lower belt candidates with their new belts. The rest either failed or were stripe testing. Once the presentation ceremony was completed (and I was back to feeling dizzy and thirsty, only now I was actually hungry as well) we were instructed to pick up our weapons once again. Now there were four candidates remaining. Now was when the judges got a little more…participatory in the test. We started doing our blocking and striking katas while the judges attacked us with weapons. Not slowly, like we were used to, but full on, Vulcan Crew-style speed and precision. About four strikes per second. Fuckin’ Judge C**** whacked my fingers with his jo twice. Then he switched to escrima and nailed my pinkie a third time. Then he had the bad taste of hollering at me while he was doing a dangerous block and I was supposed to attack him. We finished the weapons and were told to spread out and put our right legs back, guards up. Crap. Purple kicks. Jumping kicks, spinning kicks, cross-over kicks. Ten each kick, each side. 180 kicks in total. I was now over six hundred kicks in to this test, and that was not counting kicks used in combat techniques. I had completely forgotten about my other three candidates at this point.  Prove the theories We moved on to mass attack katas. These are katas we each design for our own personal use. I’d been working on mine for about three months so far. We have three imaginary attackers which we use to perform these katas. It is done with a Tiger-Dragon salutation at the beginning and the end as opposed to the standard weapon-sheath or kosho-ryu salutations. Since it is one that we each design for ourselves it is judged very closely, not just for form, but for flow, originality, and effectiveness. We each did these three times. Now it was on to actual mass attacks where those katas are used with Resisting Ukes. I scored silver in my Resisting Uke Mass Attack last week so I nailed this one. When my three ukes bowed on to meet me for combat it was honestly the first time that I had thought about them in perhaps an hour, let alone noticed them.  “There is only you. Only your mind and body will take you through this test.” Finally it was time for the third Kata. Four directions. I screwed this up once, but caught myself and restarted. I wasn’t thinking about passing the test at this point. I had considered walking off the mat a dozen times over the past few hours, but kept repeating the first attitude of practice in the first belt: “I can”. Sensei sent us off the mat. I hadn’t had water since 6:30 PM; I hadn’t stopped moving since that time. I had spent a good portion of that test wondering if the Nuclear Burrito my friend Mark J had treated me to for lunch was going to make an unannounced, post-digestive appearance. I looked at the clock. 11:00 PM. Our purgatory was spent off the mat, drinking water, looking at each other dazed and wondering why no other purples in the history of purples had been subjected to a three-day test. We were called back in. He started at the far end of the room. C passed. He was too tight in the hips and his practice had been sporadic because he wasn’t as committed as he could be. Same thing with D who also passed. They are both too tight in the hips. He continued, “Not like Pi who is old and super tight,” everybody laughed. “One foot in the grave sir” It was the first time I had made eye contact with him all night and he laughed at what is becoming the standard response I give being one of the oldest students in the school who is actually crazy enough to go through this shit. “But Pi’s kicks are extremely strong” Wow. Really? My kicks are extremely strong? He’s never complimented me before. Did he just compliment me? It was the only compliment he gave all night. And it was to me? “K****,” he continued, “I’m going to have to fail you tonight. You had so much pride in your form when you were an upper stripe orange and I’m just not seeing it anymore. You need to get back there” “Pi, your stances have improved greatly.” Another fucking compliment? Where’s the hidden camera? “You are using the theories and attitudes” We all lined up to shake hands with Master Ito, Master Genzo, and the two other judges. Master Ito typically shakes your hand and says something. He shook my hand while I stared at him with a “What the fuck was that shit about?”-expression on my face. He started laughing very loudly. “That laugh said it all, sir” I said to him. Master Genzo looked at me, shook his head, and…like his father before him…started laughing. The judges congratulated me and I walked over to my bag. Did that just happen? Had I just tested for over five hours straight? That’s when I heard a familiar voice across the room. There stood Lena with a Vitamin Water, a Gatorade, and a smile for me. Then she stopped. "Oh my god, dude...you are totally white". According to her today, that wasn't an expression...I was eggshell white. I weighed myself before I went in last night. I weighed myself again after. I lost eight pounds during that test. I learned that intelligence and ability will get me through running a five hour marathon. I learned that we are supposed to figure this stuff out on our own because that is the best way to learn something. I learned that Masters Ito and Genzo have a method to this madness. It is portrayed in every martial arts movie ever produced (“But Master…how do I….” “Ah grasshopper…when you know that you will know …”). Post-test was difficult. I had the Mother of All Leg Cramps at three o'clock this morning. I'm functionally crippled today and still had to work for three hours. But it is done and I'm moving to the next level.  Make It Work See y'all on Thursday.

Wishlists....

Pi — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 20:29:32 GMT

Man, fuck this recession. Fuck listening to smarmy spamware commercials to the tune of "Ukrainian Bells". If you're going to dream, dream big. We all do it. We don't admit it, but we do it. Very cool T-shirts: http://www.bytelove.com/bytelove-clothes/generic/bad-decision-mr-z/prod_30.html http://www.bytelove.com/partners/kopimi-/-tpb/the-pirate-bay-premium-bamboo/prod_56.html The best tool for a fire dancer when the client says, "Sure...we have music there....I think....We'll figure something out": http://www.bose.com/controller?url=/shop_online/sounddock_systems/sounddock_portable/index.jsp OMFG! http://www.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?Prodid=11311911&whse=BC&Ne=4000000&eCat=BC|79|2341|3314|74670&N=4018655&Mo=4&No=0&Nr=P_CatalogName:BC&cat=74670&Ns=P_Price|1||P_SignDesc1&lang=en-US&Sp=C&hierPath=79*2341*3314*74670*&topnav= I actually walked through this thing earlier this week: http://www.hanselrv.com/detail.cfm?V=2008%7CWinnebago%7CAdventurer%7C35%7CA&ID=117697 I want one. You know you want one. Say 'bye bye' to six hour exodus: http://www.popularmechanics.com/technology/transportation/4217989.html But the most desired thing on my wishlist: http://people.tribe.net/lena/photos/c6a725ef-cbb2-48da-9591-23e50767b8d9

Fun with workaholism

Pi — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 01:24:33 GMT

I've been putting in a bit of time on the Fuego Family Feast during my days and evenings. I've got two flyers completed, we're up to 43 people now, and the menu is starting to flesh out. There are the usual last-minute jump-ins, and as usual I'm having to be a cat-herder in trying to get some people to commit to an item for the menu. The fucked up part is that we still need to work out logistics with menu, tables and chairs, directions, parking instructions, etc. Additionally I've had a tournament this last weekend (two silvers and a bronze). I witnessed a brutal beatdown from this guy in the dojo who takes martial arts for all the wrong reasons. For some reason this person truly doesn't like me. He gave me whiplash once and we've been at each other since. I don't seek him out, but after watching him actually injure two people at the tournement I am so tempted to jump in the ring for a two-round, no judge, have-it-out with him. I 'play fight' with my kenpo...I wrassle with my friends, give Nicollee a hard time for her Kung Fu, etc. This clown pays to watch that Ultimate Fighting Champion PPV stuff, has the "I'll fuck you up"-style martial arts stickers on the back of his Penis-size-compensation-truck, and just tries to intimidate everybody he runs across. Cool, but why hasn't sensei talked with him yet? Along those lines, I have a stripe-test on Friday. This is my first test since last February. Yeah...I'm nervous. I am also in the process of renewing my real estate license. I have to pull $180 out of my ass to send in to DRE so that I can continue to work. Finally, I had to spend a good portion of the last week getting my crap together to apply for my Tribal Card with The Lost Cherokees. The problem is that my sister never returned my birth certificate or my social security card. I went to my mom's safe deposit box today and we rifled through that. Nothing. FUCK. So I finished the application, scrawled out my application fee, and sent it in with a return phone number in case there are any problems. I'll have to take a trip to Sacramento to procure my birth certificate, because I'm sure as hell not driving down to Los Angeles County to get it. Hopefully the tribal elders are disorganized enough to process it without a Birth Certificate. I hope I hope. Time to get ready to head to the dojo. Do me a favor, willya? If you're going to FFF-IV, please visit the fuego family events tribe and make sure you're signed up for headcount, menu items, logistics items, and you have your shit together. I'm burning the candle at both ends and in the middle these days.

Proposition 8

Pi — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:29:48 GMT

Needless to say, I have a pretty upset quasi-spouse right now. While I share her disappointment, I don't share her deathwish for the conservatives (just her resentment for them). Gay Marriage is a hot button issue. Obama's images were used on both sides of the argument. He stated that he believed marriage was between a man and a woman and that initially disappointed me. However when he voiced his disdain over the proposition I realized that his traditional stance was a political posturing. In August Obama stated that he considered marriage a sacred union between a man and a woman (Saddleback Forum-La Mesa, CA---a Christian Conservative event). Had Obama made a pro-gay marriage statement at that forum, he would have been dead in the water and would have lost this election. Obama made a statement on Hardball back in April that he was not in favor of gay marriage, but supported a strong civil union. On Saturday, Obama made the following statement on MTV: "I think it's unnecessary. I believe marriage is between a man and a woman. I am not in favor of gay marriage. But when you start playing around with constitutions, just to prohibit somebody who cares about another person, it just seems to me that's not what America's about. Usually, our constitutions expand liberties, they don't contract them." That statement seemed contradictory. Was it pandering to the left or was Saddleback forum pandering to the right? The answer? Yes. It was pandering to both sides. It was neccessary. Feinstein and Schwarzenegger both voiced their opposition to Prop 8 and this is a state issue. I don't hate those who supported Prop 8. I think they're scared. Nothing is taken away from heterosexual marriage, but the view is that it somehow cheapend a union already cheapened by a 50% rate of failure. One ad stated, "Prop 8 restores traditional marriage". The same ad stated, "A leading Proposition 8 proponant states that gay marriage will be taught in our schools". Every word counts even when only listening with half an ear ('restores' and 'proponant' are the key words that set my bullshit detector to DefCon 2). Again, same ad: "If Gay Marriage has nothing to do with education, why is the California Teachers Association investing over a million dollars to try to defeat it?" Uh...because there are a lot of gay teachers out there. These ads created a strong backlash, but the approach was wrong. We should have picked these ads apart word by word and explained what was actually being communicated here. You need to use your opponant's own words against them. It's just not time yet. We just elected a black man president, something that couldn't have happened as little as four years ago. Keep the faith brothers and sisters. And...very quietly...start contacting the No on 8 people to see what we can do in two years. We lost by a couple of points...we are right there. Don't do it with Loud and Proud ralleys...use the other side's words and tactics against them. Get the straightest, most conservative looking communicator out there to slowly start gnawing away at the heels of this amendment. The same judges are still on the bench. To all my gay, lesbian, and bisexual brothers and sisters: I support you.

Fuego Family Feast IV (or V if you're Memory, Jackie or Orbit)

Pi — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 21:16:16 GMT

Here we go again. Most of y'alls should have this in your "events" section (those of you who haven't become disgusted with Tribe and blown away to FaceCrook----more on *that* later). If you are interested in going, send me a membership request for the Fuego Family Events tribe. ======================================================================================================== Okay guys...Krissy pinged me on Facebook to nudge me to get the Turkey Day thing going. I'm going to really piss off my mom and go ahead and spearhead yet another Fuego Family Feast. This is the fourth Official FFF (the fifth if you include the much smaller pilot year) and it will be titled Burning Turkey, Sea of Gravy. Since Krissy pinged me she is my official Sergeant at Arms (which means she gets to bitch slap everybody to submission) and I hope Pooh Bear steps up to help as well. Where: The Vulcan in the two usual Vulcan units (one for eatin’, the other for spinnin’) When: If you don’t know you are too stupid to hang out with us. Get the word out to people; get them to check this tribe, etc. As usual I will supply one (1) turkey which will be cooked at The Vulcan the day of the event. We will need another turkey which somebody else gets to supply and cook. Here's the guidelines: KEEP ALL COMMUNICATIONS IN THIS TRIBE ONLY! If you have somebody who wants to go but doesn’t belong to this tribe, have them send me a membership request. Keep all topics in their appropriate threads. This will serve as the Mother Thread, but we will have menu threads, party favor threads, etc. Keep things on topic. I know this sounds bitchy, but it is the only way we can keep it organized. That fun, happy-go-lucky event is only fun and happy-go-lucky because we spend thirty hours planning it. After dinner EVERYBODY is going to help with the kitchen and the table tear-down (leave no trace). That portion takes about thirty to forty minutes, and aside from that it’s all good. • Bring your favorite dish (course, mashed taters, yammers, desert, etc) • Bring your favorite substance to share (trust me...this part works great and everybody ends up bringing most of it back home) • Bring a bottle of something if you're a drinkin' person. • Bring nitrous if you're a nitrous person • Bring herbals if you're an herbal person • No Spectators, no beggars. People who don't contribute are absolutely not welcome. • Bring your orphans. If they’re kind, if they’re participatory, they are welcome. • Bring hookahs, bongs, etc. and stuff to put in them This is a potluck event. Everybody needs to bring one consumable. We always have leftovers, and that is a good thing. We have some new peeps this year, but we have some peeps who we are used to having who will not be with us. Toward that end, we will have a toast at the beginning of the meal to new friends, old friends, and absent friends.

Am I evil?

Pi — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 21:49:35 GMT

Yes I am. But for a really good reason. I’ve been working hard to become the Bay Area’s first truly Green and environmentally friendly commercial broker. A project in the North Bay that I’ve been working on for a year and a half will eventually be the greenest building in the Bay Area (once the economy clears the way to build a project that costs twice as much for minimal tax credits in a market with 30% vacancies). I work with solar companies, geothermal companies, etc. Problems arise when landlords realize that most of these companies are pretty frikkin’ new and don’t have proper track records. I have a deal that I’ve been working on for a solar company since June. It’s not going to make me much money, but any port in a storm, sayin’? We’ve been dealing with an evil landlord who has a chip on their shoulder against my company due to some things that happened when a world famous celebrity who was a client passed away (they were that person’s legal team and wanted to give the account to their pet brokerage…I wasn’t involved, but it got ugly and that law firm has hated us ever since). The landlord has already sidelined us…twice. Now we’re back in the game, we get a lease draft, and the attorney for the solar company goes on vacation. For two weeks. Then she comes back and goes to a convention. For a week. The broker for the other side is calling me daily and threatened to kill the deal today. Problem is that the attorney on my side has now delayed lease comments for close to three weeks. Said attorney informed me today that, despite promises of having comments to me yesterday we were looking at Friday. FUCK I call my local guy. He says, “I got nothing”. I call corporate. They got nothing. I wrote the attorney for the solar company an email saying that the deal was about to collapse. She’s on Injured Reserve at the convention with food poisoning. She calls me and asks if it can wait until Friday and I told her no. She asked again and I explained the entire history to her. She stuck out her lower lip, put on her big girl shoes, and had me send the lease over to her. She’s going to review the (now three week old) document from her sickbed in beautiful San Diego. I feel bad, but not too bad to push this ugly mother of a deal to fruition. I hate this economy.

La Jaqueca

Pi — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 17:31:43 GMT

Anybody here get migraines? I do. I've had 'em for years. To tell the truth, I've often preferred them over headaches. They're concentrated in one spot and are manageable with some Tylenol, a dark room, and a little quiet. For about a week previous to last Sunday I'd had some very strong sensitivity to cold drinks in my mouth. Earlier in the day on Sunday I had a smoothie and it gave me a little ice cream headache. I commented to Lena that there is a direct correlation between brain freezes and migraines according to some site I had read. At Decom I started feeling a bit of a migraine coming on. I had just helped safety for the VC set and headed out to watch some of the other kidz play. It started coming on during the Pyronauts set and the music was setting off little white flashes of spots before my eyes. Bleh. Migraine coming on. I headed backstage and would pop out when somebody I knew was coming onstage, but it kept getting worse. Finally it was so bad I just had to stay backstage. Sorry Ken, Jaden, and Alien...it was too intense for me to see your guys' sets. It kept growing to a respectable migraine and finally I threw in the towel and told Lena I had to head home. We jumped in the car and decided to pull off to grab something to eat as I'd had a handful of snap peas, a smoothie, some celery, and some tortillas as my entire nutritional intake for the day. By the time we left the 'restaurant' I was starting to clutch the right side of my face to shield the light. This was a strong one. When we got home I headed straight upstairs to lie down. I gobbled two Tylenol PM and lay in bed, finally drifting off to sleep at perhaps 12:15 AM. I have a high pain threshold. I was the guy who ran around for six weeks, including ten days on the Playa, before I realized that I had a fractured fibula (it hurt, but no biggie until I finally sat down for a few hours and my leg started swelling up). At 1:30ish I was semi-awake. I wasn't aware of anything around me except for the white space around my head. I was never aware that the human body could feel as much pain as I felt when I awoke in the middle of the night. Where was the fucking shock? Goddammit, where was the fucking shock? Shock is my friend; it gives me survival options before the pain kicks in. I've never felt a pain like that. I couldn't speak, I couldn't form words, and all I could do was make noises. Fortunately Lena heard me from downstairs and came up. I thought I was having a stroke or an aneurism. The pain extended from my eye to about two feet outside of my skull. Every sound made white flashes of light drive stakes of heat in to my brain. I couldn't move, I couldn't talk, and I couldn't tune it out. I couldn't pass out. I was afraid that if I moved too much I would vomit. Lena had some Vicodin left over from her bout with Pneumonia earlier this year. She would only give me one, and that was a good thing as if I had access to that bottle I would have taken two (or three). I passed out and awoke at 9:30 yesterday ‘morning’ very late for work. I went downstairs…and fainted at the front door. It didn’t hurt, but I believe the fucking shock finally made its tardy entrance from the healthy dose of reality I had received a few hours before. Even today my lips and my fingertips are still tingling. I have a healthy respect for people that suffer major migraines now and truly hope I don't join them again anytime soon.

Cliff Kendall...

Pi — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 21:46:21 GMT

I first met Cliff well over ten years ago when I started helping in redevelopment projects in the City of Petaluma. Wonderful guy. You couldn't get one over on Cliff; he made sure that the buildings met structural standards. He spearheaded the campaign to seismically retrofit all unreinforced masonry buildings in Petaluma and this included several historical properties. Over the course of the last three or four years we've watched the City of Petaluma degrade in to financial peril. This is largely due to the "Good Ol' Boys" network of local businesses adverse to seeing economic growth. While I'm no fan of Wal*Mart (in fact I was very active in keeping Wal Mart out of Petaluma), the fact is that growth is essential for any organism to survive. Mayor Torliatt injected an Economic Impact Report layer in to the Use Permit process. Here's a picture of Torliatt (a former competitor of mine): http://www1.arguscourier.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060919/NEWS01/60919010 . There are some problems inherent in the Economic Impact Report. It largely duplicated questions asked in Environmental Impact Reports, but also managed to bring a couple of thousand dollars more in to City coffers for anybody willing to apply for a Use Permit under her administration. She also tripled development fees. Additionally she ushered in a rezone throughout Petaluma that renders many building obsolete. So if an old office building sits in a neighborhood of industrial buildings and said office building becomes vacant for a year...guess what? You might as well tear down that building because it can no longer be used for office. Vice Versa for a warehouse among office buildings. Don't believe me? Research it. Since this cluster fuck trickled business to non-existent in the city that I helped populate, Torliatt and crew announced they were laying off a dozen members of Community Development yesterday. Cliff was among them. It's sad because he was just a couple of years from retirement and his pension is gone now. Want to see a picture of Cliff? Here: http://www.petaluma360.com/article/AC/20080918/NEWS01/809179997/-1/PT07&template=ptart . Look at it. Look at it hard. He looks intelligent, doesn't he? He looks kind, right? Cliff shot himself in the head this morning and his body was found by his grandson. Rest in peace, buddy. Are we done yet? Was this enough to make people realize that you can't arbitrarily lay people off to save money (slow the process down) while raising fees to make money (make it less attractive to bring business to a very green city on the edge of Wine Country). You want to make money? Spend money. Want to save money? Don't spend money. Can't have both.

The Ballad of Sara Palin

Pi — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 18:24:34 GMT

~by the Pi, for the people~ Come and listen to my story ‘bout Alaska’s Sara Palin Rose to Governess as the economy was failin’ Then one day instead of shootin’ caribou She got a phone call that said yer country needs you Pork Barrels Black Gold Pipeline Dreams Well the next plane out Sara’s flyin’ in the air Rednecks said, “Nice ass and purty hair” She said “Fornicate just to grow your family” Supreme Court, polished guns, Roe v Wade, and GOP Hell, we’re in Hippy fools Pit bull Star

Orphan Burn in the Grove tomorrow?

Pi — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 07:18:32 GMT

Who's up for an orphan burn in the grove tomorrow night? I just watched the center camp cam and am experiencing major FOMO.

I believe I've found him

Pi — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 18:18:32 GMT

I made a trip to the central valley on Friday night. While my girlfriend was off at a party in San Fran, while my oldest son was going to a concert in Oakland, while my mom was at the movies, while most of my friends were getting ready for (or already en route to) the playa, the dedicated Cherokee half-breed braved Friday evening traffic and a very limited gas budget to drive to the hellscape of Dixon, CA. As I carted down the road I kept the radio off. I've made so many trips to find leads false or dated. Music, while a passion, was not on my mind. I needed to map this out in my mind. Emotions ran a relay race in my brain...hope passed to defeat passed to anger passed to doubt. I have to follow every clue and this was one of many, many leads I've checked over the past decade. I touched upon my recent trip to the court house. The judge listening, no doubt sympathetic but bound by laws created for privacy. His questions to the Napa County CSS yielded answers I already knew: They would not give, and were forbidden from disclosing, the address of the woman who has blocked my son from knowing his father since shortly after his fourth birthday. The judge asked the questions to both of us, and we both answered in similar fashion: "is there a history of violence?" "no". "drug abuse?" "No." "restraining orders?" "No". The only question we differed on was police presence. I had called the police on her shortly after we split due to the fact that she came in to my house and trashed it. She had destroyed a glass endtable and ripped a dryer cord out of the wall. She had thrown stuff around the house and ripped drawers out of dressers. Why? Because after a previous trip where she had taken every stick of furniture after claiming she was coming for the crib I hid the plates. She wanted the plates. I hid them. But that wasn't the issue...Had *I* been violent with her? No, your honor...she had been violent with me...well....with my stuff. And my son...she punished him physically when he was being potty trained. I wasn't going to push my luck with the judge. He told me that I was in a tough spot...the law forbade them from giving me an address. Was she in the county at least? They couldn't tell me. He recommended that I contact a law center in the building. I did. He couldn't help me either. He suggested that I hire a private investigator. Well...I'd done that almost $180,000 ago and could no longer afford it. I'm broke. I'm in real estate and I'm broke, goddammit. That was a month ago. Back to I-80E. I wore a hooded sweatshirt for this trip in case I needed to ease my conspicuousness, however the thermometer in my car told me it was 84 degrees outside in the August dusk. Fuck, I hate the central valley. It's little more than an irrigated portion of death valley and the northern planes of said region are naturally sun baked. I made one ill-choosen stop for some food. Someone (ahem---NOEL) had mentioned that they recommended Popeye's Chicken. Fuck you, Noel...you fucking vegitarian. There was no fish on the menu and I still have reflux from the 'chicken' I ate. I drove to the address (well...I drove passed the address) and reconnitered the neighborhood. A huge park across the street was my least obvious vantage point. I made one more pass by the house...and every fucking motion detector light in existence clicked on when I did. You see, the heartless bitch has now divorced her second husband and is no doubt hiding his children as well. Nice one, Tonya. Paranoid fuck. Did I ever mention that you suck in bed? No? Well you do. Buy a book or something, because there's more to sex than...well...sex. Oh...and artichokes are boiled, not microwaved. And who the fuck mixes mayo in to Kraft Mac and Cheese? The lights automatically going on was a good thing. It means Philip is on her shit. Good. He probably hasn't burned through his entire life savings yet and is putting the pressure on her, no doubt with his own team of lawyers and private investigators. God I fucking hate rich people. Try investing the money in a college fund, you stupid fucks. You can spend a few thousand on that or several thousand on the team of haters and the eventual psychiatrists and medications when your children realize that mommy and daddy hate each other and they would have been more happy if said child hadn't been born. Ach. My poor kid. I decided the park across the street was the best cover as it was still fairly early and many garage doors were open. Neighbors stood in each other's garages swilling beer in the heated evening hours much like they did when they were kids, only now it was their garage and not their dad's. I watched for about an hour for signs of life from the house. All exterior lights were on, but there was no car in the driveway. The motion sensors tripped with every passing car. Fuck that must step on the neihbors' dick nerves. Hasn't she heard that we're having energy issues? I watched and waited. When my first hour lapsed I called Lena. She was on her way to whatever party she was going to and I asked her to use Jackie's iPhone to do a little internet research that I, in my recent pit of the pits, had neglected to do prior to this trip. She entered the address in an online reverse directory and came up with three names...one of which was one of the names The Ex uses. At least it wasn't mine this time. There were two other names listed after her's. I mentally went through the possibilities: roomies, former occupants, etc. Lena headed in to the party and I waited. I tried to reach my older son to continue the research (I had recently disconnected internet service to my phone because it was expensive and spotty at best...Man, I want an iPhone), but he was already in Oakland. I tried my mom and she didn't answer. I watched and waited. Next came some park workers standing about 100 feet away noticing that the car that had been sitting there for quite a while had an occupant in it. Fuck. Don't call the fucking police, please. I'm not loitering, I'm not a drug dealer...I'm a father who needs to be able to sleep at night for the first time in over a decade. Perhaps an hour later I finally got hold of Ma Pi and put her to work on the Internet. She went to Bareis and pulled up the chain of ownership on the house. It was held in trust by a woman. The second name on the list Lena had mentioned earlier in the evening...the other name was no doubt that woman's daughter. She has owned it since 96. Good...no foreclosure pending. I doubted there was. Manicured lawns, huge backyard, RV access. Yep...my child support dollars at work. Now to check utility records. Another one of her fucking names. Damn, this lady knows how to work it. So that is her MO. She has kept all three of her names and uses them to confuse people searching for her. J**, M****y, and M****r. One for the lease, one for the utilities, one for the paycheck. Brava. I had my mom log in to my Facebook account and do a search for Alex under all three last names. I asked two guys wondering what the fuck I was doing giving passwords, user names, and URLs to whoever was on the other end of my cell phone what the zip was. We tried that. Eleven o'clock and no motion. She's there. She's just out for the evening. She's probably staying with her equally bitch mother at one of their palatial homes. So what is my plan? How 'bout some of my Davis brothers and sisters join me for a day of spinning at a perhaps 10-acre park in beautiful Dixon after the burn? Let's draw a crowd. I wouldn't mind the witnesses when my son wanders over to see what everybody is looking at. http://pyrotation.net/community/Pi_Private_Page.html

A Blog Entry for your pre-playa-packing pleasure

Pi — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 23:23:26 GMT

Two more resumes out today It sucks that I’m watching many of my friends getting ready to head out to the playa. But you know what? I know I’m at where I need to be doing what I need to do in order to assure that this never happens again. All you peeps heading out to the playa…take some video. If you have a troupe I will happily edit the film for you. If you just wanna taunt me, drop me an email with some photos to Pyrotation@gmail.com . My blog entry…”that” blog entry… has generated a tremendous show of love from my friends, both new and old. I haven’t met the goal yet, but I’m moving in the right direction. Some people sent kind emails; some people truly surprised me with their support. Some people sent generous donations (People I hold very dear to my heart…and one who I never met before) showed amazing support. One was somebody who I was at odds with for quite a while…we actually truly like each other now and that is pretty cool. Another person sent a generous donation that had me pickled for a few hours. The number seemed weird. It was a number that I face often in studies (no…it wasn’t $3.14). Once I realized that it was a little too coincidental it all clicked together. I thought about it for a couple of days because I didn't recognize the name (playa names and all) and sent an email today. One donation…one that would put me much closer to the goal…was flagged by PayEnemy for review. Still waiting for that one to be resolved. I received donations both prior to and since this one, but for some reason this one was flagged for review. I gave myself permission to invest some money in an online search forum called “Intellius”. What I normally spend $9 on a couple of times a year is on sale for $3. I use this site to try to find my son. Nothing new has come up for months, but today I got a hit. I found two new addresses in Dixon so I’m going to take another trip over there to see if I can get visual confirmation. If I do, I need to keep the ex in sight until I generate some commissions and can afford to hire a lawyer, pay the Sheriff’s office so they can serve her, and FINALLY see my son (about to turn fifteen) for the first time since he turned…four. Now…and because of you folks…I can actually put some gas in my car to drive out to Dixon and hopefully find this heartless bitch’s latest over-priced lair of evil. Please take a moment to reach out to your tribe buddies. Please share my plea for help with them. I truly need to reach this goal. I’m relinking the original blog post here. Please take a minute and check it out if you haven’t already: ====================================================================================== IMPORTANT! EVERYBODY PLEASE READ!! Everybody that knows me knows that I am the guy you can go to who will jump through hoops to help you, someone you know, or some random person on the street. I’ve been called ‘generous to a fault’, an idealist, etc. When I say, ‘let’s all get together for Thanksgiving’, I will work my ass off to see that 40-60 people are fed, imbibed, happy, and still make sure the kitchen is clean before I have a five minute break. I will make sure your structure on the playa is properly anchored, your batteries are charged, and your flat tire is repaired. Some of you might remember that I put the ball in motion for Tribe’s continued operation. Some of you might have learned that I came up with the business model and research for the premium membership that kept tribe afloat. Only a handful knew how close tribe was to shutting down forever. What none of you know was that I was trying to either purchase tribe or go to work as their head of marketing with Kenrom as their front-end developer and Darren as their back end developer. http://people.tribe.net/pi/blog/79914cf1-b949-4a36-a964-73d97c94b047 or http://tinyurl.com/5v94tc So after we met with Darren, we exchanged several emails and got a green light that things were moving forward. I wrote an announcement regarding Tribe's new life. In short, I was trying to create a job for myself. The announcement showed up as a post from Mark Pincus’ blog and then Darren went dark on me. Nope, not even a t-shirt from Tribe. In 2006 I made well over $100,000, all on commission from commercial real estate. I had a bunch of money in savings and started drawing on it late that year. In 2007 I made less than $7,000. I continued to draw off of savings, stayed current on Child Support (well over $1,000/mo), and didn’t come a whit closer to finding my son who has been concealed from me for about eleven years now. Now I’m broke. Not just “oh…I can’t go to the movie, can’t really afford it”, but broke. $400 behind in my rent, no money for my current month’s rent, car payment, or insurance, and haven’t bought so much as a new magazine in over a year. I work 10 hours a day and I’m broke. I’m having anxiety attacks and I’ve developed panic attacks. I’m working at my dojo evenings helping run tests, and working events in exchange for my continued membership. Those who know me IRL know that we’ve been fixtures at every event, every burn, every party until about six months ago. Nope, I'm not going to Burning Man, I can’t make it to SF for Tuesday spins or Sundays in the park, nor can I afford toll or gas to see my friends. I’m shocked my phone is still on, and that’s about to change. I have many friends who have demonstrated kindness. Shawn Shiva for making me his date to see Rush back in May, Crimson Rose for a generous offer, Dave and Allison for offers of kindness (albeit via terrorism) to get me to the playa, and the VC kids for gifting me spinagogue admissions. I love you all and I miss the hell out of you. I need $5,000 to get through the next 60 days. I’m sending out resumes left and right (seven last week), continuing to work the real estate, and dying on the vine here. I have set up a paypal account that accepts donations even if you don’t have a paypal account. I hate to say it, but I need to ask all of my friends and all of my friends’ friends to donate whatever they can ($5, $10, $20, whatever) to keep me afloat during this horrible time. If you are so inclined, please POST THIS IN YOUR BLOG. Please reach out to the members of our community I haven’t met. Please help. It. Is. That. Bad. I did it for Tribe and it worked. Now I am embarrassed to say I need ask you to do it for me. I need help. Here is the link to my webpage which has the donation button and some more in-depth information: http://pyrotation.net/community/Pi_Private_Page.html or, since sometimes tribe doesn't like long URLs, http://tinyurl.com/566tok My private email is pyrotation@gmail.com . Thank you for following through on this.

An update...

Pi — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 23:20:31 GMT

Another four resumes out this week. I have so much gratitude, hopefully expressed in a fashion reflective of what I felt as I wrote 32 separate emails. I am completely blown away. People that I’ve never met have stepped up to make me one of their own. People I’ve known for years have helped me a little closer to getting through this black hole of economic horror. People used to seeing me be the essence of poker face have seen me…fuck it…break down and puss out. KSea invited me to help at Big Top Magazine’s REVOLUTION event last night. I had to help run a belt test prior to making it to the event, so I showed up at about ten o’clock. There really wasn’t much for me to do so I’m going to have to help out at a couple more KSea-vents to make up for that. I was plied and imbibed by a couple of dear people that introduced me to Lemon Drops (like a whole bunch of them)---is there anything quite so relaxing as nursing a Vodka hangover after spending eight months with anxiety attacks? I’m not out of the woods yet, but for what people have created for me thus far I am so fucking grateful. I’m trying to come up with some way to adequately, albeit economically, perform some token of gratitude. If you haven’t read the blog entry yet, please PLEASE take a moment and do so. Things are ugly right now and I need help. I’ve got one deal where somebody has owed me a fair amount of money since…fucking JUNE and doesn’t show any indications of paying me for a couple of months. Because I’m never behind in my (really ridiculous) child support payments…because I am now several months behind for the first time ever…the courts are trying to compel me to find other work. Doing so negates 17 years of work building up a reputation for creating jobs, finding hidden wealth for families, and doing good in a business fraught with people who fail to give a shit about the people I’ve committed my career to helping (you know…the little guy). http://people.tribe.net/pi/blog/98c471b3-51c1-4ab7-9e8f-aa8da7864eb5 http://pyrotation.net/community/Pi_Private_Page.html

Important. Everybody please read

Pi — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 15:28:05 GMT

Everybody that knows me knows that I am the guy you can go to who will jump through hoops to help you, someone you know, or some random person on the street. I’ve been called ‘generous to a fault’, an idealist, etc. When I say, ‘let’s all get together for Thanksgiving’, I will work my ass off to see that 40-60 people are fed, imbibed, happy, and still make sure the kitchen is clean before I have a five minute break. I will make sure your structure on the playa is properly anchored, your batteries are charged, and your flat tire is repaired. Some of you might remember that I put the ball in motion for Tribe’s continued operation. Some of you might have learned that I came up with the business model and research for the premium membership that kept tribe afloat. Only a handful knew how close tribe was to shutting down forever. What none of you know was that I was trying to either purchase tribe or go to work as their head of marketing with Kenrom as their front-end developer and Darren as their back end developer. http://people.tribe.net/pi/blog/79914cf1-b949-4a36-a964-73d97c94b047 . or http://tinyurl.com/5v94tc So after we met with Darren, we exchanged several emails and got a green light that things were moving forward. I wrote an announcement regarding Tribe's new life. In short, I was trying to create a job for myself. The announcement showed up as a post from Mark Pincus’ blog and then Darren went dark on me. Nope, not even a t-shirt from Tribe. In 2006 I made well over $100,000, all on commission from commercial real estate. I had a bunch of money in savings and started drawing on it late that year. In 2007 I made less than $7,000. I continued to draw off of savings, stayed current on Child Support (well over $1,000/mo), and didn’t come a whit closer to finding my son who has been concealed from me for about eleven years now. Now I’m broke. Not just “oh…I can’t go to the movie, can’t really afford it”, but broke. $400 behind in my rent, no money for my current month’s rent, car payment, or insurance, and haven’t bought so much as a new magazine in over a year. I work 10 hours a day and I’m broke. I’m having anxiety attacks and I’ve developed panic attacks. I’m working at my dojo evenings helping run tests, and working events in exchange for my continued membership. Those who know me IRL know that we’ve been fixtures at every event, every burn, every party until about six months ago. Nope, I'm not going to Burning Man, I can’t make it to SF for Tuesday spins or Sundays in the park, nor can I afford toll or gas to see my friends. I’m shocked my phone is still on, and that’s about to change. I have many friends who have demonstrated kindness. Shawn Shiva for making me his date to see Rush back in May, Crimson Rose for a generous offer, Dave and Allison for offers of kindness (albeit via terrorism) to get me to the playa, and the VC kids for gifting me spinagogue admissions. I love you all and I miss the hell out of you. I need $5,000 to get through the next 60 days. I’m sending out resumes left and right (seven last week), continuing to work the real estate, and dying on the vine here. I have set up a paypal account that accepts donations even if you don’t have a paypal account. I hate to say it, but I need to ask all of my friends and all of my friends’ friends to donate whatever they can ($5, $10, $20, whatever) to keep me afloat during this horrible time. If you are so inclined, please POST THIS IN YOUR BLOG. Please reach out to the members of our community I haven’t met. Please help. It. Is. That. Bad. I did it for Tribe and it worked. Now I am embarrassed to say I need ask you to do it for me. I need help. Here is the link to my webpage which has the donation button and some more in-depth information: http://pyrotation.net/community/Pi_Private_Page.html or, since sometimes tribe doesn't like long URLs, http://tinyurl.com/566tok My private email is pyrotation@gmail.com . Thank you for following through on this.