Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Random Return

Soooooooooooooo, school/training has taken over my life but I have a lot of thoughts that have built up over the past few months. To start catching up, let me drop some quick randoms.

Shit I've Learned Lately:

1. The homeless people in Portland all seem damn near comfortable. They are some chill ass cats.
2. Donut + Bacon = awesome.
3. I want to live in San Francisco for a minute.
4. I have no idea how/why Glen Beck is popular.
5. You can't really know a city until you know it's vices.
6. I'm officially a B.O.B. fan.
7. I don't feel well unless I'm at least slightly sore from the result of some physical activity.
8. I think I've actually had a really positive impact on my nephew's development. The kid is gonna be brilliant.
9. Talk About Sex, Talk About Sex, Talk About Sex. It still astounds me that I still meet people who never talk about sex honestly with their partners. Follow the law of Salt N' Peppa, talk about all the good and bad. It'll help keep you safe, and it'll make it astronomically better.
10. Final Fantasy XIII is different, but still dope. Stop bitchin about it nerds.
11. Lebron should stop with the commercials and shit and just say one damn thing: "The manner in which I revealed my decision to the public was distasteful and I apologize for my lack of foresight." Moving to Miami is all good, but you don't divorce your wife and propose to your new girl on national television. He should've known this from countless old episodes of Jerry Springer.
12. The BET cyphers felt lazy.
13. Four english classes is a lot. I've already read more than 1000 pages this quarter and i'm still behind.
14. There hasn't really been any smear ads against Prop 19 (the weed legalization law). That shit might actually pass tuesday... dig it.


much much much to come.

love.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Saturday, September 11, 2010

I Hate Rims.

Yesterday, I saw a car. An old car. An old beat up car. And old beat up, dirty, smoke-spewing, bastard of a car. And on this car, there were rims. Bright. Shiny. Clearly expensive platinum colored Rims. Now as I watched this car drive past me down the street I had to stop myself from jumping out of my own ride and yelling "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ROLLING IN A CAR WITH RIMS MORE EXPENSIVE THAN THE WHOLE DAMN CAR!!!!!" Yep. I held that in. And I simply thought to myself; aren't we past this? Didn't pimp my ride get canceled? Didn't Jay-z already set a new trend and make rims lame? Don't we know that rims are a poor investment? Shit, don't we have taste?

Anyway, don't let this happen to you:

Santa Monica Stairs


OVERRATED.

Just saying.

The place is too crowed, cramped and an all around hassle. Its cool if you want to pick up a woman, leisurely stroll and break a little sweat with a great view but, if you want to absolutely destroy yourself during a workout. Or if your an athlete training for something specific, skip it. For the most part I'm gonna stick with the Hollywood Bowl. Its quiet, private, and intense. Great to place to focus and get work in with out worrying about tripping over people. If you ever want to get down... holla at me.

-love.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Playlist Pumping #2: All About the Benjamins

"All About The Benjamins" - Puff Daddy & The Family

Atheist/ Agnostic and the fear of Conflict


I never believed in Santa Claus. It never even occurred to me that the stories of a fat man climbing down my chimney bearing gifts could be a true tale. Now I definitely had an imagination as a child but I was always acutely aware of where the ground was. I never feared walking off the edge of a flat world. I also never feared, nor sensed, felt, praised or cowered before God.

I say this not with the intention of trivializing anyone's beliefs, I only say it to display the innate skepticism that has always been a part of my character. I'm very open to new ideas but I am incredibly patient. By patient I mean that I will take the time to discover the truth or fallacy in a person's statement and withhold my judgment until I am positively sure of my stance. In regards to religion however, this process becomes a bit more difficult to adhere to. No matter the evidence for or against a higher power, whether that power is a figure from Judeo-Christian-Islamic history, Hindi teachings or even something from an L. Ron Hubbard book; the question comes down to faith. And in the end faith and belief are abstractions that are impossible to prove, disprove or define.

If I had to place a label on myself (i hate those things) I would have to say I'm agnostic bordering on atheist. I have nothing against God, or the religious. I was raised in a Christian home with Christian beliefs and I have a mother who holds her faith very close to her heart. The pieces simply never seemed to fit for me. As early as age 11 I remember asking the question "Where did God come from?" and never getting a straight answer. As I aged and my thoughts matured I found ways that I could actually fit religion into my worldview but I was never struck but any spiritual awakening. All of my thoughts toward religion were completely academic in nature. Over the years on numerous occasions I've found myself in awkward positions in conversations. They would always start as such:

"Okay, now I know you believe in God right? So this is what I..."
or...
"What's wrong? Just pray and ask God what..."
or even... 
"You know God was with you today when..."

Whenever these types of things popped up I would shrug my shoulders, mumble something incoherently and let whoever I was talking to go on with their speech believing that I felt the same way. I always avoided spouting out my gut reaction which I knew would have led into yet another unending debate over religion and the universe and why we are here and a horde of other things with no solution that I was not at all interested in going through. Even in my own house my thoughts had nothing in common with my family. Faith and Love are kin to each other. They are intensely personal and it may be utterly impossible to force another human being to believe or love something that they do not already.

I don't claim to "know" anything. And I am incredibly wary of any man who does. The debate over higher powers and the afterlife is a centuries old conflict; one which I am intensely interested in. I read tons about western and eastern philosophy and religion, and I have a healthy interest in the motivations of man and the laws and customs we govern ourselves by. But as far as my own experience goes, I'm just not all that concerned with God. I am not seeking, nor running away from a spiritual experience. I will also never champion or vilify another person's experience (within reason). So if you love your God, love your faith; cool. I'm not gonna try to change that. But don't preach to me. If I am meant to find some purpose in life that is ruled by the laws of a higher power, then it will happen when it's meant to. Similarly, if no God is ever miraculously revealed to me and there is never part of my life that is concerned with religion; also cool.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

hmmmm. Tea Party eh...

Saw a group of Tea Party members driving down Ventura Blvd with their banners waving today. I know way too little about the movement to properly critique it, but the little I do know about it disturbs me. Full blog coming after I read up and form an actual valid opinion...

Monday, August 23, 2010

Monday Muse/ic #2: Cee-Lo "Fuck You"

Though this has already jumped to 1.4 million views and I'm sure its going to keep growing, I'm posting it anyway because it's level of awesomeness is that high. Dig it:

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Let's Talk About Sex #1: Euphemisms

I have absolutely no shame when it comes to sex. I firmly believe that whatever happens between two consenting adults behind closed doors is entirely their own business. If you need some type of combination of birthday clowns, ass-less chaps, and pomegranate juice to get off; do you. But during a conversation with a friend we found that there are really no great names for sex. Most of the substitutes people use are usually too melodramatic ("making love"), too technical ("intercourse"), or just generally lame ("making whoopie"). After realizing that one of my favorite things in the world had no title worthy of its awesomeness, I went on a long and tiring search (about 10 minutes) to find a euphemism I could be proud of. I failed. But I did find a ton of horrible, yet hilarious ones. Enjoy and feel free to suggest a few more:

165: Names for Sex (originally from: http://amog.com/lifestyle/sex-euphemisms/)
  1. a squeeze and a squirt
  2. bad boogey, the
  3. bake cookies
  4. ball
  5. bang
  6. batter dip the corn dog
  7. Taking the skin boat to tuna town
  8. belly to belly
  9. boff
  10. boink
  11. bone
  12. bonk
  13. boof
  14. boom-boom
  15. bouncing the pogo stick
  16. bump and grind
  17. bump fuzzies
  18. bump uglies
  19. bury the bone
  20. bury the one-eyed worm
  21. bush patrol
  22. butter the muffin
  23. check the oil
  24. churn butter
  25. clam dip
  26. clean the carpet
  27. cream
  28. dance in the sheets
  29. deed, the
  30. dip the wick
  31. dip your pen in the ink
  32. dippity doo da
  33. do
  34. do it
  35. do the dirty
  36. exchange bodily fluids
  37. feed the kitty
  38. fill the cream donut
  39. fit her clap flap
  40. fix her plumbing
  41. flop the hay
  42. fornicate
  43. four legged frolic
  44. frolic in the cornfield
  45. fuck
  46. funky chicken, the
  47. get a home run
  48. get busy
  49. get into one’s pants
  50. get it on
  51. get laid
  52. get rocks off
  53. get your nuts cracked
  54. give her a high hard one
  55. give her a pat
  56. glaze the donut
  57. go fishing
  58. hammer
  59. hanky panky
  60. hide the hot dog
  61. hide the salami
  62. hide the sausage
  63. hide the snake in the bush
  64. hide the weenie
  65. hippity dippitty
  66. hit it
  67. hobble the horsey
  68. hop upon the wild pony
  69. horizontal hustle
  70. horizontal mambo
  71. hot beef injection
  72. hot dog in a jungle
  73. hot dog on a bun
  74. hump
  75. humpty dumpty
  76. in and out, the
  77. juice someone
  78. jump one’s bones
  79. knock boots
  80. knock mops
  81. lay piping
  82. lie feet up
  83. lust and thrust, the
  84. make babies
  85. make it
  86. make love
  87. make some friction
  88. make whoopee
  89. mattress dance
  90. mattress mambo
  91. mingle limbs
  92. mommy-daddy dance
  93. mount
  94. nail
  95. naked dance, the
  96. naughty, the
  97. nookie
  98. park
  99. park the beef bus into tuna town
  100. park the Plymouth into the garage of love
  101. parting the pink sea
  102. party for two
  103. pass the gravy
  104. pickle tickle
  105. piece of ass
  106. plant your seed
  107. play doctor
  108. play in and out
  109. play on the hair court
  110. play pickle me/ tickle me
  111. plug and play
  112. plug the hole
  113. poke in the whiskers
  114. polish the porpose
  115. pop the cork
  116. pork
  117. pound
  118. probe
  119. probe the membrane
  120. put sour cream on the burrito
  121. put sour cream on the taco
  122. put the snake in the cave
  123. put the snake in the grease
  124. ram
  125. ride
  126. ride the baloney pony
  127. ride the hobby horse
  128. ride the skin bus into tuna town
  129. ride the wild bull
  130. roll in the hay
  131. rong her bell
  132. rumple the foreskin
  133. score
  134. scratch your itch
  135. screw
  136. service the clam
  137. sexercise
  138. shag
  139. sink it in
  140. sink the sub
  141. skin the cat
  142. slap bellies
  143. slime the banana
  144. smash pissers
  145. sow wild oats
  146. spank the cat
  147. spear the bearded clam
  148. stab the trout
  149. storm the trenches
  150. stuff the beaver
  151. stuff the taco
  152. sweep the chimney
  153. take “old one-eye” to the optomotrist
  154. the hole smash
  155. thread the needle
  156. throw a log on the fire
  157. tickle her belly from the inside
  158. two-person pushups
  159. ugly, the
  160. vulcanize the whoopee stick
  161. walk the dog
  162. water the lawn
  163. wet the wick
  164. whoopty-do, the
  165. wild thing, the

Friday, August 20, 2010

Blackout!


Walked into a record store yesterday (yes they still exist...kinda). It was Second Spin in Sherman Oaks; home of a glorious collection of cheap as shit used CDs, DVDs etc. I'm not one to be down on the digital transformation of the music industry but, I absolutely love tearing off the plastic, opening the case, and digging through the liner notes of an album. There is nothing that can replace having the actual hard copy in your hands. Holding something tangible is a lot more satisfying than clicking an icon and waiting for the "download complete" sign to appear. I'm also a fan of actually listening to an "ALBUM." The whole thing, intro to outro. Hearing each song in context as part of a cohesive whole. Singles are like quickies in the supply closet at lunchtime. A great album is akin to an all night, box-spring cracking, wake up your neighbors from the noise, love making session that inspires you to write terrible poetry.

I copped a couple new joints (Big Boi's "Sir Lucious Left Foot," Eminem's "Recovery" and MGMT's Album from a couple years back "Oracular Spectacular.") And I re-bought Tribe's Midnight Marauders and Blackout by Method Man and Redman. I popped in Blackout first. The album came out around 1998/99 and I actually had the TAPE! I played that damn thing forward and backward and as each song came on in my car yesterday I realized that I knew every lyric, every skit by heart. And I was reminded of how big on an influence these guys were on me. Meth in particular. Just listening to these old verses made me see how often I phrase my words in a similar fashion, use similar vocab, and it especially reminded me of all the battle raps I used to write in middle school.

I still love music. Still love hip-hop. But its rare that I find something to play backwards and forwards nowadays. It may be that I'm older and have more distinguishing tastes when it comes to what I listen to, or it may be that when you're 13 and having your first experiences with the world everything is brighter, better done and more powerful. Or shit, it may just be that music is no longer built for the patient. It is not made to be slowly digested and unfolded over time. Before the digital revolution, you were essentially forced to listen to one thing at a time. So when a CD was in your car or stereo that was the only thing spinning. There were no shuffle buttons that randomly sent you careening through 10,000 songs.

Now there is no right or wrong way to listen to music. But I do fear that we miss out on a lot more music lately. When we immediately judge an album's merit of the first listen, the first single, the first 5 minutes, I think we cheat ourselves. There have been plenty of records that I have owned that I initially hated but after repeat visits fell in love with. I only buy music that I'm reasonably sure I'm still going to be playing 10 years from now. Its an investment. And like an investment you don't jump ship the first day the stock dips. You ride that shit out and see whats in store. I love pandora, and itunes and all that shit, but every once in a while grab an album and let it play start to finish. Live in that world for an hour and experience everything the artist has to show you.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Apathy and Death (brief thought)

Every artist worth his pen, brush, or instrument has forever been ingrained with the urge to become immortal. If you are a writer, no matter how noble or honorable your work, at least a part of you is damn sure trying to create something that will find a place in the canon: that group of masterful work that is known to be an essential part of the human experience 100s of years into the future. Flesh is worthless. Its beautiful, but it peaks early and fades quickly. An idea, a thought, a creation; those are the things that end up defining a life and staving off death. You want to be immortal? Be something that people will always give a damn about. Death is only final when your memory is gone from the conscious of the living and apathy takes its place.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Monday Muse/ic #1

"Your Summer Song (remix) feat. J Mitchell" off of Exile's upcoming compilation album AM/FM. Project drops Aug. 31st kids.




Exile - Your Summer Song (Remix Ft. J. Mitchell) from Dirty Science on Vimeo.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Music to Knock Boots to #1

Nirvana. Yes. Nirvana. Now for the first of what I am sure will be a very long series of blogs, I know this may seem like an odd choice. But my libido never lies and I am making it my mission to provide you with the correct soundtracks to fertilize an egg to. I could've went classic and chosen, Barry White, or Marvin Gaye, or something obvious like Trey Songs but well shit, just trust me on this one. The angst, anger and passion on this album is palpable. And that intensity, along with some surprisingly soothing melodies, provides some nice inspiration for a couple to break a few headboards. The first three tracks (Smells Like Spirit, In Bloom, and Come As You Are) all have huge rocking choruses and bridges tailor made for boot knocking. And hey those three tracks alone are about 13 minutes of music, and you know that's probably all the time most of you need ;-). So do yourself a favor, grab a dance partner, turn up the music, and proceed with the babymaking.


-outro

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Crack Vs. Cocaine

WOW, shit actually changed today...

At the height of the 1980s crack epidemic the United States government responded to public panic with new, harsh penalties for drug convictions. Of the new laws implemented, by far the most controversial was the law which made the sentence for anyone convicted of a crack-cocaine crime 100 times worse than that of a person convicted of a powdered-cocaine crime.

The actual difference between the two drugs is slight. Crack-cocaine is a bastardized form of powder-cocaine that has been diluted with water, mixed with baking soda and cooked into a rock form that is ready to be smoked. Powder-cocaine is simply that; pure cocaine. Its been argued that crack is more addictive, but there are studies contradicting that claim.

The main difference between the two is the price. Crack is incredibly cheap and typically a poor man's drug, while pure cocaine is much more valuable and also much more difficult to come across. So the law that saw crack users receive penalties 100 times harsher than powder cocaine violators led to huge numbers of poor addicts being sent to jail for decades for tiny amounts of crack. Meanwhile many rich men and drug dealers who used the powdered-cocaine to manufacture the crack often got off with sentences far shorter than that of their customers. This, along with legislation like the 3 Strikes law, caused a huge boom in the prison population consisting of mostly minorities and the impoverished. And the resulting jump in prison population has created the monster of the Prison Industrial Complex; an entire new economic structure that encourages capitalists to build private prisons; many of which use inmates for cheap labor thus creating a brand new class of slaves.

Activists and organizations have been fighting for the past 20 years to change the drugs laws and miraculously, things changed this week. Today, President Obama signed into law a bill that will change the sentence differential from 100:1, to 18:1. This is a MUTHAFUCKING HUGE development. It is a giant step on the way to dissolving the last bits of discriminatory legislation and hopefully with fewer addicts (people who need treatment not prison sentences) locked up for 20 years at a time, their will be fewer broken families and a better foundation being laid in the urban communities of America.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

"Wifed Up"

I have never really felt the need to procreate until recently. This is mostly due to the fact that I have been helping to raise my 10 month old nephew and through this, have for the first time realized that being a father is something I would excel at. With that said; I still ain't having no damn kids for ten years at least lol. I bring the notion of fatherhood up because I had a conversation with a female friend today that disturbed me. A typical nonsensical chat about something or other ended up touching on goals. Personal goals, ambitions and ultimate desires in life. My friend is preparing for grad school but is far from excited about it. She sees it as an obligation. Something she is forced to do if she wants to earn a certain wage. Her field of study does not inspire or motivate her, she simply knows that it pays well. And as soon as she has the opportunity to get "wifed-up" by a man who can provide for her she is planning on jumping at the opportunity to get out of the working world and happily claim the role of the traditional housewife.

I have nothing against a person wanting to build a family. And since my I can only trace my own family's line back to one biological grandparent, I have developed the urge to lay a foundation for a large and sprawling clan. But her reasons for wanting a husband seemed to be purely born from the fact that most of her hobbies are tied into different forms of conspicuous consumption. She proudly proclaimed that none of her friends want to work either. This bothered me. If you don't care to have an education, if you only plan to use it for monetary gain, and if you're just waiting for a rich man to come and hand you credit cards, why go through post-grad? Why spend the money and time if you are going to loathe every minute of it? Being a stay-at-home mom because you want to provide an experience for your children filled with family and not strangers doing all the child-rearing is one thing, doing it because you want to shop is an entirely different matter.

That mindset is so incredibly foreign to me. There are times when I've become distracted from directly pursuing my passions but never a time where I wanted NOTHING. I'm fairly positive that I am meant to be a father one day, and if I do become one I hope to raise the kind of children who are able to find purpose in the world, with a woman who has already discovered her own and done all she could to fulfill that role.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Summertime Christmas

So for some reason, even though we are currently living right in the heart of the dry, pounding, scorching, tan-in-until-you-get-cancer, heat of July, I'm reminded of Christmas. But I'm not talking about sleigh bells and mistletoe, or good cheer and new veneers, or Jesus going from chimney to chimney leaving gifts for parents. I'm not even talking about the celebration of the birth of Santa Claus. I'm talking about the day after Christmas. Or well, maybe a week or two after Christmas.

If I was ever afraid of one thing during my high school years, it was the dreaded but inevitable question, "so what did you get?" I tried to duck that inquiry like Sarah Palin obviously ducked speech class (and english class....... and geography class...you get the point.) But even with my best efforts, I was still always confronted  by this unwanted wallet measuring contest. You see, though I went to a private high school, freshman and sophomore year I was living in a homeless shelter with my mom (a fact only two other people in the school were aware of). Junior and senior year, I was just happy to NOT be living in a homeless shelter. So when this conversation about wintry indulgences came up, I uhhh didn't really have a whole lot to add to the discourse. If I were forced into a class about extravagant gifts received on holidays; I would've Sarah Palined that bitch.

When I was finally cornered and left with nothing to do but talk to my friends about said subject, the dialogue went like so:

  • Friend: "...I got a new truck. Like a real one that you ride in and shit; not a Tonka. We went skiing, and I got a new snowboard, my sister got some new titties, and I got a couple Gs to hold onto for a rainy day. So what'd you get?"
  • Me: "Ehhh I got a little this, little that. Cool shit, you know. Just a lil' something.....  Yeahhhhh some cool shit; So how bout this weather huh?"
Awkward much? I think so. But the conversation going inside my head went like this:

  • Friend: "...I got a new light-saber. Like a real one that you cut muthafuckas with; not one made by Fisher Price. We went to Cabo and drank bloody mary's off of strippers' cleavage, my sister got a new nose, and I got a couple G's to hold onto for a rainy day. So what'd you get?"
  • Me: "What did I get? I got ELECTRICITY! Like real electricity where the lights turn on and off with this little switch. Its fucking crazy man, you gotta see it. Oh and we just got this thing, its big, and soft and you sleep on it. Its a like a cot but WAYYYYY better. Cool shit man, I got some cool shit. Best. Christmas. Ever.
This dynamic is one of the chief reasons that I never really want anything. I am a terrible person to buy a gift for because I truly have no idea what I would ever want. I've grown accustomed to not receiving much on big holidays and I don't really mind it. The unique, thoughtful ones are always the most memorable anyway. Get me an intense workout, a comic and a beer (in that order) and I'm cool. Honestly, though I have lived through some very, very rough holidays, I can't front and say I was incredibly off the wall happy, but I was always safe, and loved. My mom however, she did know what she wanted for Christmas. One year while we were in the shelter she asked my brother and myself for one thing: a good deed. She asked that we do something selfless, no matter how small, for another person (yes my mom is awesome). So me, I took the little cash I had and bought dinner for the homeless people who lived outside of the homeless shelter (lol ironic I know). Best. Christmas. Ever.

Monday, July 19, 2010

The thing about boredom...

...is that it's a self afflicted ailment. I haven't been bored in years. All boredom is, is the result of a lack of passion. A lack of purpose. Find your cause, find your tribe, find your role and play the hell out of that part. Idle hands = idle minds. Keep it moving.

-love

Sunday, July 18, 2010

6am Train of Thought

1) I have an incredibly intense love/hate relationship with hip-hop.

2) The program that runs pandora knows me better than I know myself.

3) Vomiting from drinking too much: Lame. Vomiting from the effects of an insane workout/adventure: Love.

4) The day after I graduate; I'm ghost. Out of the country. Out of this world.

5) I'll be back though.

6) Black Thought is the most SOLID rapper of all time. By solid i mean i have never heard a wack verse from him, but i have also rarely been floored by anything particularly amazing.

7) If you want to make ring-tone music, by all means go ahead. Just remember to save your money son.

8) California's infrastructure and budget will always be broken as long as anyone with a few 100 thousand dollars can get a proposition on the ballot, and California citizens consistently approve expensive measures but vote down measures that will actually help pay for everything.

9) I didn't realize i was "black" until people keep telling me i was. And now I've learned that my initial thought was right. No one is black. Race is an illusion. It has certainly become a social factor during the course of the last few centuries, but it is a biological illusion.

10) Orgasms are awesome.

11) No really, they're pretty dope.

12) I know more Spanish than i thought. Yeah, yo hablo.

13) Presidents aren't actually all that powerful nor are they supposed to be. The office of President is now seen as a bastardized version of what it was initially intended largely do to the growth of media. It is a sexy position that draws a lot of attention but, all the President can really do as far as policy making, is suggest bills to the senate and house. He can talk all the shit he wants, but if congress doesn't really want to do something, the prez is shit out of luck.

14) I have this superstition that i should never prescribe to any superstitions.

15) I was 18 the first time i said i love you to my mother out loud. There have been many repetitions since.

16) I was also 18 the first time i said I love you to a girl. (turned out, i was wrong)

17) Erykah Badu has super cakes.

18) I love the written word. I love words; ones used throughout esoteric prose, as well as curse words and colloquialisms. Language is a living breathing creature.

19) Love is a storng word. Use it often, but use it judiciously.
20) Speaking Stevie Wonder. I met him. Worked at his table for a few hours. Saw him sing and play harmonica and piano. He's awesome and can handle his liquor.

21) I think any protest march should have a very specific purpose. Raising awareness is a by-product of action. March to a voting office. March to a community construction project. March to a police station and file 2,000 individual complaints at one time. Fuck trooping around in circles yelling. "Speeches only reaches those who already know about it."-Dre 3000

22) Caveat: I'll knock you the fuck out.

23) Note: only for a just reason though.

24) Please contribute to the "trickle down." The world is changed slowly, gradually, through open discourse. The ideas in conversations between wise men make their way down to college classrooms, spread through the campus, crawl through families, land in the hands of the poets, are immortalized in film, written word and image, and decades later are thought of as common place. Open your mouth and speak.

-love.