Archive for November, 2002

  • Rob Spectre
  • 25
  • Nov
  • 02

Our Shafted Christmas.

For all you holiday Shaft fans, we got a full weekend of wicked Christmas fun with the Our Shafted Christmas weekend featuring Shaft friends Rachel Gaither and the ever affable howie&scott. Each group will be debuted a brand new Christmas song written just for the event as a sort of Central Nebraska songwriting challenge that I am sincerely looking forward to the results of.

A series of emails in relation to the upcoming 6-7 December events lead me to the inevitable contemplation of the natural conflict of participating in a Christmas event as an atheist. As anyone will tell you (and as reflected in my music) I am a very staunchly secular non-believer and generally hold any religious event with much disdain. However, with Christmas this is one of the few times where a good combination of paganism and commercialization come together to allow me to just have some fun without worrying about moral implications of such an event. The actual background of Christmas as a holiday is such a bastardization of completely arbitrary early Church doctrine and leftover Greco-Roman pagan beliefs that the actual history of Christmas lends itself to less a Christian holiday and more of a interfaith conglomeration in the form of a festival. Additionally, the fact that Christmas is so commercialized in American culture makes the religious significance of the day of little consequence. And, ultimately, the food’s good, the music’s good, and it’s a great excuse to treat each other like actual human beings. Everyone is their best during Christmas, and I don’t see how any rational human being would not want to participate in that. It’s in that that I maintain my massive Christmas music collection will little guilt and that I put on a set of Christmas shows with a clear conscience.

I just want everyone to be happy. And, at least during the Christmas season, we all get a shot at making that happen.

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  • Rob Spectre
  • 21
  • Nov
  • 02

Got a new equation for all your mathematics buffs out there: crushed red peppers + salsa + eggs / Mountain Dew = weapon of mass destruction. I currently have sitting in my large intestine a biochemical agent so fierce and unbelievably effective that I’m thanking my lucky stars that I’m not an Arab, lest I would have been arrested and shipped to Camp X-Ray immediately. It is a gastrointestinal creation that deserves a one, perhaps two color upgrade on the national threat color chart. Folks, we have an orange level event coming out of my ass.

Honestly, I’m surprised the human body can even produce something so vile. Though, I suppose garbage in, garbage out. I just wish that the entire city didn’t have to suffer for my nutritional sins.

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  • Rob Spectre
  • 19
  • Nov
  • 02

I went and saw the Leonid meteor storm last night. It was positively amazing. After the initial disappointment of some pretty serious cloud cover and, of course, a huge bright full moon, a large clear patch opened up right beside the radiant and allowed us to catch the peak of the storm.

They say that you get a wish when you see a shooting star. If that’s the case, then line up people because I got a stockpile a mile long. Contribute to Rob’s Rockstar Retirement Fund, buy a wish today!

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  • Rob Spectre
  • 18
  • Nov
  • 02

Being a computer guy may well be the single greatest vocation in the world. The completely unwarranted respect one commands with the knowledge of such obscure acronyms as IDE and USB and PCMCIA is absolutely precious. Take today for example.

I went to Dairy Queen of all places to do a Klez Virus cleanup and solve some printer problems. The machine was this old Pentium II behemoth that was food establishment dinge biege and had dustbunnies so large they might be classified as mutant. I show up and begin to lay my thing down – which is an intricate process indeed – with the assistant manager monitoring my activities feigning comprehension. Amiable enough, we chat while I download the virus removal tool and resolve some I/O conflicts, so he says, “You want something to drink?”

Uh. Drink? Sure. “How about a Mountain Dew?” Like it was teleported from some mystical geek reservoir a 32 ounce Dew was promptly delivered into my hands.

“You need something to munch on? Some fries or something?”

Food? What is this, Christmas? “Yeah, that’d be great.” Boom. I have a shit-ton of fries.

The problem becomes more and more involved and I start to zone in on what I’m doing. Soon enough, I get it solved and get ready to leave.

“You want a milkshake or something before you go?”

You have got to be kidding me. “I couldn’t possibly refuse.” Friends, I think he actually constructed a new Dairy Queen beverage size to contain this Oreo Blizzard. I had literally in my possession a gallon of cookies n’ cream ice cream goodness.

It is important to note that anyone can do this stuff. Information Technology is like a two year degree at even the most prestigious schools and most every vo-tech can teach you everything you need to know. Or, if the whole education thing isn’t your particular slice of ice cream cake, you can get work experience pretty easily as a phone tech or really any number of venues. This isn’t rocket science. Hell, it’s not even as intensive as being a car mechanic. And yet, we digital janitors become revered less as men and more as living gods of the realm of technology. In my dorm, my 1337 computing skillz are arguably better known than my rocking abilities (which is quite sad), earning me a presence that is feared and respected like you think of massive ogres as feared and respected. And, honestly, when a med school student is impressed by my knowledge, something in the realm of occupation hierarchies is horribly, horribly askew.

I’m the functional equivalent of a mechanic. But I get twice the respect and none of the bitching or distrust. Though I can’t complain too loudly about this idiotic social folkway, probably because my mouth is full of ice cream.

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  • Rob Spectre
  • 16
  • Nov
  • 02

Many thanks to howie&scott, Whitehead and Unashamedly Awful, and, most of all, you for making my 22nd the best birthday ever. Last night something transcended me.

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