Captain Spacepants

Today’s issue of Organ­ic Mechan­ic mag­a­zine fea­tures a rare inter­view with one of the most fas­ci­nat­ing and con­tro­ver­sial fig­ures in the ear­ly twen­ty-first cen­tu­ry. A mas­ter of faux pas, feng shui, and the fox trot; the defend­er of all things taste­less: Cap­tain Spacepants.

OM: Cap­tain Spacepants, I must say that it is an hon­or to have the chance to sit down and talk about the nit­ty-grit­ty with a super­hero of your stature. You are the biggest name Organ­ic Mechan­ic has ever inter­viewed.

CS: Well, ah, I am equal­ly hon­ored to speak with such a fair and bal­anced pub­li­ca­tion as OM. It isn’t often that I have the chance to sit down and real­ly talk about what pro­pels me, what with all of the duties that my super­hero­ism must ful­fill.

OM: That hap­pens to be one thing our read­ers are quite curi­ous about. Exact­ly what kind of super­hero are you?

CS: I’ve always seen myself as a nor­mal per­son like every­one else. ‘Super­hero’ is such a loaded term any­more… What I try to do in my work is make the world more tol­er­ant of those it con­sid­ers ‘in bad taste.’ That includes any­one from your great-aunt Martha and those huge framed glass­es she wears, a thir­ty-sev­en year old gay man in Britain named Den­nis who wears spats but no shoes and pret­ty much any­thing that Michael Jack­son or Brit­ney Spears have ever done.

OM: Some of your detrac­tors point out that your views are rather extrem­ist and that some of the things you defend under­mine the style and moral fab­ric of our nation. For exam­ple, you were recent­ly crit­i­cized for your unabashed procla­ma­tion that The Chron­i­cles of Rid­dick marks a new artis­tic par­a­digm for the film indus­try and a new high for career of Vin Diesel [anoth­er one of your favorites]. In fact, the Com­mit­tee On Moral Taste has gone so far to threat­en your life on occa­sion for ‘crimes against progress.’

CS: My detrac­tors, as you call them, and in par­tic­u­lar the Com­mit­tee on Moral Taste, are in fact, my arch-neme­ses. I am quite aware that the so-called crime that I am accused of has been put forth by the nefar­i­ous Proc­tor Pen­ta­pus and his defama­tion cam­paign against me is being fund­ed by the two most pow­er­ful mem­bers of the CMT, Star­bucks and The Church of Martha Stew­art and Her Lat­ter Day Cranks. I also have sneak­ing sus­pi­cions that Oprah Win­frey and Dr. Phil are plan­ning an offen­sive as well.

But, to answer your ques­tion, I am not respon­si­ble for the degra­da­tion of moral progress in the world. Far from it, the dynam­ic style sen­si­bil­i­ty I try to fos­ter and pro­mote keeps fresh ideas con­stant­ly at the fore­front of the pub­lic con­scious­ness. The CMT’s idea of ‘moral progress’ is real­ly about regres­sion to 1950’s val­ues, fol­lowed by the cre­ative stag­na­tion of the mind. All this is part of their plot for world dom­i­na­tion. I must admit, how­ev­er, that I might have been mis­guid­ed about Mr. Diesel, some­times taste­less things can become as wild­ly unpre­dictable as J. Lo’s love life. The CMT will take even the slight­est appear­ance of weak­ness and turn it into a weapon of mass destruc­tion.

OM: Don’t you find it hard to suc­ceed at this mis­sion when your com­port­ment, demeanor and dress are so enig­mat­ic — a cross between her­maph­ro­dit­ic and androg­y­nous? I mean, you have a radioac­tive green mohawk, a sil­ver half-cape, an untanned yak-hair sports bra and your trade­mark ‘spacepants’ — a tita­ni­um chasti­ty belt/codpiece with a strate­gi­cal­ly placed blink­ing red light.

CS: I guess I’ve always been about shat­ter­ing gen­der barriers…and the bounds of good taste. But as long as I am able to ensure that there is a place in the world for things deemed taste­less, I feel that I am suc­ceed­ing.

You don’t like my blink­ing red light?

OM: No, it is com­plete­ly fine. Thank you for giv­ing some of your pre­cious time for us to learn more about you Cap­tain Spacepants.

CS: You are most wel­come. And remem­ber kids, drugs are for dopes.

The ideas expressed in this inter­view do not nec­es­sar­i­ly coin­cide with any­thing at all. The inter­view­er would like to thank Lau­ren Spisak for her hard work arrang­ing a meet­ing with Cap­tain Spacepants. With­out her gen­er­ous con­tri­bu­tions and sar­casm, this would not have been pos­si­ble.

laissez les bon temps rouler

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I just got back from a sweet night of the blues fea­tur­ing Robert Lock­wood Junior. Lock­wood is alleged­ly the only per­son to have actu­al­ly learned gui­tar from the king of delta blues, Robert John­son. The blues ensem­ble that played with him was quite good, but it was obvi­ous their style of blues wasn’t the same as Lockwood’s. They had a Mem­phis blues vibe, more…cosmopolitan than raw. Lock­wood def­i­nite­ly proved that less is more. It almost seemed like the gui­tar was play­ing itself. If he learned from Robert John­son, I can under­stand how peo­ple thought John­son had made a deal with the dev­il to gain his skill. Unearth­ly. He made it hurt and feel good to hurt. The whole band got me into their sets, I was ‘yeah’ing and ‘whoo’ing as the spir­it prompt­ed me.

At the end the alto sax­o­phon­ist came over and chat­ted with us, then Lock­wood him­self came over. I got to shake his hand and tell him how won­der­ful the per­for­mance was and asked him about his life. He said, ‘I nev­er looked up to nobody,’ then paused and con­tin­ued, ‘but I nev­er looked down on nobody either.’

That is a damn good way to live.

J Dreams

The night before last was near­ly sleep­less for me. Typ­i­cal­ly I have almost com­plete con­trol over what I dream about, even unto night­mares. Yet Mon­day night, I had quite uncom­fort­able dreams, and I am not cer­tain why they were so uncom­fort­able. Every dream I had, and when ever and where ever it took place, my best friend friend from high school and the first per­son I ever fell for, J, appeared. She wasn’t as I remem­ber her from HS, she was 4 years old­er, pret­ti­er and even more quixot­ic. Like some sort of arche­typ­al fig­ure. The dreams were all stan­dard fair, noth­ing tawdry, but invari­ably J would turn up, act in a com­plete­ly nor­mal way, and freak me out every time. I would always wake myself up imme­di­ate­ly after she asked a per­fect­ly innocu­ous ques­tion.

At the Fair — Have you rid­den the Fer­ris Wheel?
At my home — How have you been?
On the street — Do I have some­thing on the back of my coat?
etc. ad infini­tum

I’m not sure what this night of cracked dream­ing means. It could mean that I still have unre­solved feel­ings toward J. She could be noth­ing more than the best sym­bol my mind could come up with to rep­re­sent what­ev­er it is that I am anx­ious about at this time. It could mean some­thing else entire­ly. I just don’t know. First I need to fig­ure out what is per­co­lat­ing in the recess­es of my mind. Then I’ll have a bet­ter idea I think. If you have any ques­tions or need clar­i­fi­ca­tions ask, because I am sure they will help me fig­ure some of this out.

How to Make A Compilation CD

Mak­ing a Com­pi­la­tion CD [c-CD] is quite an affair. The process is described in detail in sev­er­al places, some shal­low­er than oth­ers.

I nev­er make c-CDs for myself. The discs I burn that are com­pos­ites of artists, aren’t com­pi­la­tions. I just put them on a CD so I can lis­ten to them else­where. A c-CD must be made for some­one else, and with spe­cif­ic intent. That is the over­rid­ing rule. Here are some oth­ers.

a] Each song on the c-CD must have bear­ing on the per­son it is being giv­en to. If this bear­ing is pro­ject­ed through your own doors of per­cep­tion, thats just dandy.

b] Each song must have bear­ing on how you see your­self or want to see your­self in rela­tion to the per­son the c-CD is being giv­en to. If this per­son is a love inter­est, lim­it the sap songs to one or none.

c] You may not have mul­ti­ple songs by the same artist, even if the artist is a mem­ber of anoth­er band.

d] You may not put a song on the c-CD that refers to the per­son you are giv­ing the CD to.

e] Do not, under any cir­cum­stances, put on a song that you think is fun­ny.

f] Do not, put on too many songs that sound the same. Vari­ety is nec­es­sary.

g] Break these rules at your own per­il.

That is what I try to go by. I might add some once I think of them.

h] Each song on the CD must relate to each oth­er song on the CD. This rela­tion­ship can­not be tak­en to a high­er order such as, ‘all the songs relate to me or the per­son I am giv­ing the c-CD to.’ see a] or b] above. This way, if the c-CD wash­es up on shore of a desert island and some­one with a func­tion­ing CD play­er finds it on the beach, upon lis­ten­ing to the disc they will sense the theme of the CD, even if they are famil­iar with none of the songs. This is also pro­vid­ed that the disc itself is not too sand-etched to be read by a CD play­er.

Sledding

I went sled­ding today for the first time in sev­er­al years. We went to Edge­wa­ter and dis­cov­ered that a pletho­ra of ear­li­er tobog­ga­neers had packed the entire hill­side into a per­fect sled­ding slope. Anne had got­ten her child­hood sled from her par­ents place and she and Liam had picked up a cheapy plas­tic one from the store. The qual­i­ty dif­fer­ence was obvi­ous, the old wood­en one had the foot tiller and met­al run­ners and the plas­tic one looked like some­thing you would baste an entire pig in. they both rocked going down the slopes.

to be a brag­gart, i must say that i was the best sled­der there in regard to sled con­trol and dis­tance. although i was forced to eject sev­er­al times do to a bad vec­tor or unex­pect­ed tur­bu­lence, most of my mis­sions were a suc­cess. Haul­ing my ass up the hill after­ward was tedious though, since it was prob­a­bly around 130 yards from where i usu­al­ly end­ed up. it was a good work­out, though right now i would like to do some­thing to get me warm and thawed out. a cup of Earl Grey will have to do.

Cash

I won some Cash for Christ­mas and today I received it. I got the CD- Amer­i­can IV: The Man Comes Around and the DVD- John­ny Cash: A Con­cert Behind Prison Walls. I also received a cou­ple of stick­ers.

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I had heard the album with Phil right when it came out and was impressed, so it was great to win it from 97x. I’m also look­ing for­ward to see­ing the DVD which is a musi­cal syn­op­sis and trib­ute to Mr. Cash. My men­tor at work has issued a list of demands from me, which includes a share in the Cash. She has also giv­en me a nick­name, ‘Bones’ incon­gru­ous though that might be. I have no idea where she came up with that. The only Bones I know goes to ND and smokes up alot. She’s pret­ty cool though so I’ll let it slide.

Avatar

I know I’ve had the South Park Avatar thinger on here before, but its updat­ed and much nicer. To save your char­ac­ter you must do a screen cap­ture, the site gives you instruc­tions on how to do that. Click on the pic to go there.

This guy is from a down­load­able pro­gram called Hero Machine. It basi­cal­ly gives you a bunch of options for mak­ing a Super Hero or Super Doo­fus. The weapons are pret­ty dumb and the col­or palette isn’t the best but its still cool.

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