Let's get movin' into action.

It's been a while since I posted anything. I've been fucking tired. Emotionally worn. I've been to shows, taken a road trip, and been bruised and abused. I've gotten sick, recovered, and relapsed. I've lost my voice. I've read easy-read books and taken what is probably the last written final exam of my life. Many of these are interrelated.

Right now I'm eating carrots and drinking beer. I haven't been to the grocery store in almost three months. I've got plenty of beer, though, so stop by if you're thirsty. Mind the mess; I've been procrastinating on the cleaning.

I'm giving a lecture to the dental students about integrating orthodontics into a comprehensive treatment plan, and put together what has probably been the first handout ever written at this school on the subject. It took hours, but I did about 95% of it from memory. I guess I'm learning something. I've been invited to give a one-hour lecture at the Chicago Dental Society midwinter meeting in 2009; I don't think I'll have a lot of cases to show, but I can focus well on research and published articles. Whatever, I've got almost two years. I can't turn this down; do things like that often enough and you don't get asked again.

Hey, Ryan K.: my sore shoulder from the Lifetime show? It was better by the time they finished their set. I'm not worn out, I just need to be loosened up before use.

This weekend should kick ass; even though I'm missing Critical Mass - there are several people I know who are planning to make it to May's Mass - I've got Ska Night, scooter school, four shows, and friends I've not seen in a while. Bitchin'.


Checkers means it's ska.

Geraldo, Fred Phelps, Bruce Lee, and Buzz Aldrin.

Geraldo as the reasonable one:


Fucked up (watch all seven parts):


Cool:


Buzz Aldrin kicks ass:

Everyone except the band looks like a rock star. Everyone except for you can go to hell.

Two quotes from the AVClub's SXSW reporting:

We've been at the Noise Pop party for less than 10 minutes, and we've already seen two ironic New Kids On The Block T-shirts.
..............
A sheriff's-department employee moonlighting as a cabbie tells me he's happy not to be at his regular job during SXSW, because arrestees in the music biz all think they're really important and deserve special treatment in the pokey. Self-important assholes? In the music industry? Say it ain't so.

I took my board exam this morning. I'm drinking beer and cleaning my hole - slowly. Last night I saw Bedouin Soundclash. Very nice. I napped this afternoon. I'm in a good groove. We'll see how that changes when I go back to school tomorrow.

See the world. The Easter Bunny hates you.

Do you really fucking get it? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

DeKalb has a shitty-ass punk scene. Oh, the venues are OK, but the crowd at the show on Thursday sucked ass. Frat assholes pushing people around before the band is even on stage, muscle-bound gorillas who only know how to push people around and don't even seem to realize when the song's over. Fuck, they don't even pick each other up. Some kid charged me, so I grabbed him and dragged him in a circle and then just started pushing him through the pit until we both fell over with about ten other people. I'm waiting on the floor for the other kids to get off my legs so I can get up, and then I see some kid just standing next to me. "Help me up, you dummy!" I said to him, trying to pull my leg free. Jeez. Muscle-headed dipshits in collared shirts laughing at me for dancing rather than throwing my fists around with abandon. I told one of them that I take such insults from jocks as compliments.

The good things: Fake Problems put on a really good set. They remind me of the punk bands from ten years ago, as well as incorporating a lot of Americana, and having a really unique sound. Plus two cowbells on the drum kit. Against Me! put on a pretty sweet set as well. I was one of the few dancing to the new songs, even though I didn't know them - I'd heard a few of them when I saw them last fall, but that's it. I did run into this kid Matt I've met at a few shows, and this girl Carly I've met at shows before too. So that at least was fun.

I've still got sore spots on my knees, my voice is still a little rough, and my muscles are finally unknotting. So overall it was a good show. Last night I slept many many hours. Tomorrow I'm going to catch Bedouin Soundclash at the Subterranean and hope I get enough sleep for Monday morning.

Yesterday I was so damn tired I was falling asleep sitting up at the end of the day. I've pretty much given up studying for Monday's board exam. Everyone from the residents who took it last year to one of the guys that wrote a bunch of the questions on it says we really don't have to worry at all.

I've got the radio show tonight. I'll see how the new studio is, and monopolize a bunch of airtime to play the Big D interview Travis and I did a few weeks ago. I haven't been there in two weeks, and I got a little I've got to get of my system.

You're coming off kind of contrived and pretentious. You're not saying anything we haven't heard before.

Did Critical Mass last Friday. Fun. Dental students came too. Danny showed up later.

I stopped and took pics of people who were taking pics of us, but they all came out crappy. Best Mass in a long time. From downtown to Old Town, Streeterville, to Chinatown, back downtown, the West Loop, and then Danny and I peeled off in Wicker Park to head to the Handlebar for dinner after about four hours and 25 miles.

Fucking cops thought it'd be fun to harass us. So there were five squad cars at the end of the Mass with their sonic blasters going for no good reason. At the front you couldn't hear it, but when we stopped at a liquor store we got back right in front of them, and it hurt. I was talking with some mom who had her kids with her; she'd tried talking to the cops but they just gave a sarcastic thumbs up. I commented that someone somewhere was getting mugged or raped at the moment, and the cops decided to harass a bunch of bicyclists and make themselves look bad in front of grade-school kids. Someone else commented that since the front of the Mass couldn't even hear the sirens, it was like pushing string. Cops are good for something, just count on them being assholes when you don't need them.

I obviously got my bike back from the shop, finally, after I figured out what was wrong. In less than seven months, I completely wore out the chainwheel. I pretty much wore out the whole drivetrain. It was about $300 worth of stuff including the tune-up, but I figure even a new bike would rack up at least $200 worth of wear and tear after next winter.

I'm burnt out on studying. I don't care anymore. I spent all last weekend at school, pulling late nights going over board-review shit. Plus I'm pretty confident in my ability to pass my board exam on Monday. So I've been reading crappy novels - not "crappy," but actually crappy - and letting shit go to hell in a handbasket.

Tomorrow I'm going to see Against Me! I need it. Almost as much as I need sleep. And a shower.

Irony is For Suckers

There are apparently 32 surveilance cameras surrounding George Orwell's home.

Dill is one of the spices of my childhood. Like ambrosia sometimes.

How offensive would you find blackface today?

Referring back to the post I made this weekend about the movie 300: my mom sent me an e-mail with a link to pictures of the Iranian Norooz (New Year's) Parade in NYC. Two images to view: here and here. Feel free to view the rest.

I was a party in Jersey five years ago and I was sitting with an Iranian professor of sociology and he asked me if, as a half-Iranian, I identified as Iranian or not. I replied that I hadn't identified as Iranian until when in second grade I innocently answered the question of what kind of name my last name was and ended up getting chased at recess because of it. The taunts of "Terrorist!" followed me all through high school. After speaking with him, I read his book: The Making of an Iranian Community in America by Maboud Ansari. Although a bit dated, it struck me as inherently true, and there were many things I hadn't considered. His explanation of dual marginality struck me, and I definitely identified with it, choosing what many seem to consider a marginal lifestyle myself.

At least our New Year is based on some astronomical event, like the spring equinox.

A few years ago, some dumbshit foreign policy grad student from University of Chicago had the gumption to tell me that he doesn't believe racism exists since we're all one race. Dumbshit. I agree that we're all one race, but racism is out there and it isn't going to go away for a long fucking time, unfortunately. I'll never tell my kids to deny their Persian heritage, but I hope I never even have to consider the choice.

The only problem I have with people celebrating their cultural heritage is when they use it an excuse to set themselves apart from the rest of us for either selfish or "moral" reasons.

Drunken banking

It's very interesting to do online banking while drunk. I was doing arithmetic out loud. I'm going to read "bad" literature for the rest of the night. Maybe I'll get hungry enough to eat something.

It won't be safe to go out at night when the nerds of junior high unite!

The Onion has a review of the new Revenge of the Nerds DVD. When I was seven or eight, I went to see Ernest Goes to Camp (starring Jim Cleaver as Ernest P. Worrel) and one of the previews was for Revenge of the Nerds 2. It consisted of a fine study with classical music playing until a plush leather armchair swiveled around and Ogre let out his classic "NEEEEEEERRRRRRDDDDSSSSS!!!!!"

The Piraat's feeling pretty good. Tomorrow's Ska Night. I need it, sadly.

Fucking piece of fucking shit.

To top it off, three of the light bulbs of the four in my kitchen burnt out. And they're fucking long-life bulbs.

Remind me never to buy any car from a company that makes something called a Jeep Patriot. I guess that means no Mercedes once I make my millions.

I run head-on into traffic in the afternoon. I've logged the longest miles alone at night inside my room.

Fucking shit day. First we get the announcement of a new dress code for our department only. We're already the best-dressed department in the building, and now we get the news that we have to wear shirt and tie every day. Stupid. The tie especially, since they have been shown to collect bacteria within a few wears and are rarely ever laundered. Plus, it's also been shown that patients do not make any differentiation in quality of care based on appearance.

I got my bike back from the shop. $227 for a tune and several new parts, and the fucking chain is skipping more than it was when I dropped it off. The chain derailed at least a half dozen times on the half-mile ride home. I thought it was marginally unsafe to ride in traffic last week when I took it in, but now it's definitely unsafe. The real pisser is that Critical Mass is in two days and I need to find a bike to borrow. Maybe I'll even buy a second bike since I ride enough and it would be nice to have a spare. It's a pain in the ass to drive or take CTA sometimes.

I've had a 26oz. of Piraat in the fridge for a month. Tonight's the night for it. I want to cry and punch walls.

Sing along. The Revolution is just a T-shirt away!

Driving up to Madison on Tuesday, it was a sunny day and I was cruising through the cornfields of northwestern Illinois, and Billy Bragg's "Waiting For the Great Leap Forwards" came on. It gave me shivers. I played it again. Shivers again.

It may have been Camelot for Jack and Jacqueline
But on the Che Guevara highway filling up with gasoline
Fidel Castro's brother spies a rich lady who's crying
Over luxury's disappointment
So he walks over and he's trying
To sympathise with her but he thinks that he should warn her
That the Third World is just around the corner

In the Soviet Union a scientist is blinded
By the resumption of nuclear testing and he is reminded
That Dr. Robert Oppenheimer's optimism fell
At the first hurdle

In the Cheese Pavilion and the only noise I hear
Is the sound of someone stacking chairs
And mopping up spilt beer
And someone asking questions and basking in the light
Of the fifteen fame-filled minutes of the fanzine writer

Mixing pop and politics he asks me what the use is
I offer him embarrassment and my usual excuses
While looking down the corridor
Out to where the van is waiting
I'm looking for the Great Leap Forwards

Jumble sales are organised and pamphlets have been posted
Even after closing time there's still parties to be hosted
You can be active with the activists
Or sleep in with the sleepers
While you're waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

One leap forward, two leaps back
Will politics get me the sack?

Here comes the future and you can't run from it
If you've got a blacklist I want to be on it

Its a mighty long way down rock 'n' roll
From "Top of the Pops" to drawing the dole

If no one seems to understand
Start your own revolution and cut out the middleman

In a perfect world we'd all sing in tune
But this is reality so give me some room

So join the struggle while you may
The Revolution is just a T-shirt away
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

Celebrate your cultural bias at the movies!

There was a time years back when I was studying in NU's Core library and needed a break, so I picked up the copy of Frank Miller's 300 to read. As with just about all of his works, it was very violent and graphic, with stunning colors and panel spreads.

I received this article from one of our family friends:

3/16/07
THE TRUTH BEHIND 300
By Cyrus Kar

For many Iranians the cinematic movie 300 may come as a shocking revelation. But to those of us who came up through America's school system, the Battle of Thermopylae, which is what the movie 300 is based on, is as familiar as George Washington's fabled "cherry tree" incident.

The Battle of Thermopylae was of course written by the classical Greek author, Herodotus, who lived in the Persian city of Halicarnassus. His book, The Histories became part of Western folklore only recently. It wasn't until about 1850 that America embraced Herodotus as the leading authority on Persian history.

Before 1850, however, the West had a very favorable impression of the Persian Empire. That's because the West's main source for Persian history was the Bible and the Cyropaedia, written by another Greek author named Xenophon.

But the Cyropaedia glorified the monarchy of Cyrus The Great, and in the wake of two bloody revolutions fought by America and France to liberate themselves from their own monarchies, a major campaign began, around the mid 19th century, to promote democracy throughout the rest of Europe, and Herodotus was the perfect propaganda tool.

Herodotus was a democratic groupie and was quickly ushered in as the "Father Of History." Around 1850, his Battle Of Thermopylae came to symbolize the West's struggle for democracy against the powerful forces of Persia's monarchy.

The story is easy to buy into: 300 brave Spartans saved Western democracy from 2.7 million evil Persians. But aside from the fanciful numbers which need decimal-point adjustments, this whimsical tale has far graver consequences than a mere biased account of history.

The Battle Of Thermopylae has been the single most powerful wedge, which has divided East and West for over 2 millennia. In a time when East and West should be reconciling their differences, along comes the movie 300 to drive that wedge even deeper.

What is most disturbing about this movie is not that it lacks historical accuracy. It is not that Xerxes, the Grandson of Cyrus The Great and loving husband of Esther, is shown as an oversized drag queen. Its not even the outdated racist cliche of casting the Persians as Africans and the Spartans as white, blue-eyed Chippendale dancers, when in reality the roles may well have been reversed.

What is so distressing about this movie is the realization of the tremendous power Hollywood wields in determining a people's identity. It is the same nightmare Native Americans endured during the whole 'cowboy-movie' genre.

But for those who are quick to dismiss 300 as a fleeting fantasy flick aimed at the insignificant, 17 to 24 year-old male video-gamer, think again. First there was Alexander, now 300, next could well be the Battle Of Marathon, another one of Herodotus's glowing accounts of ancient Persia.

Herodotus is accepted blindly by virtually all Western demographics. Even the New York Times is not immune. Here is how it described the Persians in its April 20, 2004 issue on the Battle Of Marathon:

"the defeat of a ruthless state (Persia) that had enslaved much of the known world from the Balkans to the Himalayas."

"the ancient Greeks defeated the Asian invaders (Persia) and saved Europe in what scholars call one of the first great victories of freedom over tyranny"
- William J. Broad, (NY Times)

What stretches the limits of hypocrisy is that there isn't a single shred of archeological evidence that the Persians ever owned slaves. Yet we know that slavery was an integral cornerstone of Greek society. Aristotle's manifesto even sanctions it. Persia, which was once a haven for runaway slaves from Egypt, Greece, and later Rome, is today branded as a slave-hungry empire by cultures which were built on slavery!

What makes Herodotus's propaganda so difficult to refute is that its peppered with facts. But in reality, its a desperate diatribe. Perhaps his biggest ploy is his attempt to equate democracy with freedom. These two words are used virtually interchangeably throughout his book. And the West has swallowed it hook-line-and-sinker.

But America's founding fathers new better. They were not swayed by Herodotus. They implemented many safeguards to protect freedom from the pitfalls that mired Athenian democracy. Even Winston Churchill said, "Democracy is the worst form of government except for all the others which have been tried."

Democracy may well be the best form of government. But what makes America great is not so much democracy as it is its Bill Of Rights. And this is exactly what made Persia Great. Democracy can often lead to tyranny by the majority as was the case in democratic Athens, where women, slaves and foreigners did not have the right to vote.

In monarchic Persia, however, women enjoyed a level of gender equality unmatched even to this day, and slavery was not practiced. The fact is, Persia's monarchy was more free than Athens' democracy, all because of Persia's Bill Of Rights.

No one exemplifies Persia's freedom better than Herodotus himself. He describes Athens as the bastion of freedom, yet he chose to live in Persia. Xenophon, on the other hand, who actually lived in Athens, reminisces enviably about the monarchy of Cyrus The Great?

Herodotus claims Persia had enslaved most of the known world, yet we know Herodotus was not a slave. He traveled freely throughout the empire, openly criticizing it.

Why did Herodotus not live in Greece? Because Persia - the empire he is so quick to demonize - afforded him the very freedom to publish his scathing report of it. People want to live where their god-given rights are protected, regardless of whether its democratic or monarchic.

These god-given rights were first drafted into law by the founder of the Persian empire, Cyrus The Great. In fact, ancient Persia may well have served as the blue print for America's Bill Of Rights. Both Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, the architects of America's Constitution, were great admirers and owned several copies of Xenophon's Cyropaedia.

Today, no other country resembles ancient Persia as closely as does the United States. If any country should sympathize with, rather than celebrate, Persia's quagmire in Greece it is the United States. Few events in history mirror America's war on terror as closely as Persia's war on Greece.

The Greeks had been carrying out terrorist attacks on Persian holdings for years. They had attacked Persian cities, set fire to Persian temples, disrupted key trade routes, and pirated merchant ships crossing the Bosphorus. They incited rebellions inside Persian provinces, but perhaps most abhorrent to the Persians was the ease by which the Greeks broke their treaties and betrayed Persia's trust.

Rather than resort to violence, however, Persia tried to keep the Greeks in check by financially supporting Greek politicians who were "pro-Persian," much the same way America fights its proxy wars. But what finally triggered Persia's wrath was an act rarely mentioned in the West, though well documented, even by Herodotus (7:11).

Persia's 9/11:

In 498 BCE, Athens carried out a terrorist attack on Sardis, a major Persian city, which made 9/11 seem like child's play. Aristagoras, an Athenian, set fire to the "outlying parts" of Sardis trapping most of its population "in a ring of fire." (Herodotus 5:101)

More innocent civilians died at the hands of Aristagoras than Osama bin Laden could ever hope to kill. And just as most of the world supported America's retaliation against Al Qaeda, so did it rally in support of Persia's attack on Athens.

The Spartans were not even targets of Persia's attack, until they violated a universal protocol by killing a Persian messenger who Herodotus claims was asking for Sparta's submission but in reality was probably sent by Persia's king, Xerxes to convey the same message George Bush sent to the entire world after 9/11: "you're either with us, or against us."

The Spartans were Greek Jihadists who lived only to die. They were by all accounts ruthless savages who murdered Greek slaves known as "Helots" just for sport, cultivated a culture of thievery and rape, and practiced infanticide, as the movie 300 rightly points out in its opening scenes. Sparta was not even democratic. It was an oligarchy at best. Despite knowing all this, the West continues to hail the Spartans as the saviors of Western democracy.

Yes, the Spartans died fighting a foreign invader. But so do countless Iraqi insurgents, yet few of us would consider them good guys. Those who do are then not much different from Westerners who cheer for the Spartans. Rooting for the Spartans merely because they were underdogs, is like rooting for Osama bin Laden today.

History is no longer written by the victors, it is written by filmmakers. When will the children of Persia rise up and fight back using the same weapon Hollywood has used for years to denigrate the legacy of their ancestors? When will we abandon our defensive posture and begin to write our own history again?

Perhaps the movie 300 was a necessary wake up call. But Persia bashing will never disappear on its own. It is the main villain in the Western saga. The only way it will change is through the power of film.

Alex Jovy's epic movie about Cyrus The Great could have done wonders for the Iranian image. Instead it sits idle for lack of money. My documentary film about Cyrus The Great (www.spentaproductions.com) has languished for the mere want of $400,000.

Iranians are the most affluent minority group in America. If we set our minds to it, we can achieve anything. This Nowruz, I hope all Iranians will resolve to finally unite in an effort to redeem the reputation of our ancestors.

Happy Nowruz,
Cyrus Kar

While not 100% on the money, it's still plenty good food for thought. Then I read this week's Savage Love, and Dan Savage had this at the end of the column:

With nothing but time on my hands this week, I slipped out of the office and went to the movies. Have you seen 300 yet? It's about a handful of lightly armed ancient Greeks — the Spartans — who take on the mighty, massive Persian army. Some feel the film is homophobic; some feel it's a conservative, pro-war piece of agitprop.

Homophobic? It's Ann Coulter on a meth binge.

The Persian army is an armed gay-pride parade, a threat to all things decent and, er, Greek. The king of the Spartans — among the most notorious boy-fuckers in all of ancient history — dismisses Athenian Greeks as weak-willed "philosophers and boy lovers." The Persian emperor? An eight-foot-tall black drag queen — mascara, painted-on eyebrows, pink lip gloss. Emperor RuPaul is positively obsessed with men kneeling in front of him. Why gay up the Persians? So that straight boys in the theater can identify with the Spartan king and his 300 soldiers — all of whom appear to have been recruited from and outfitted by the International Male catalog.

What isn't up for debate is the film's politics. The only times the Persian army doesn't look like a gay-pride parade in hell, it looks like a crowd of madly chanting Islamic militants. And if the Spartan king has to break Spartan law to defend Spartan freedoms? Well, sometimes a king's gotta do what a king's gotta do. Because, as the queen of Sparta points out, freedom isn't free. And, yes, she uses exactly those words. George Bush is going to blow a load in his pants when he sees this movie.

'Nuff said.

I massacred the afternoon to the sound of rain drumming against parked cars.

Rather than give a synopsis of my week, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.


Bingo:


Dobie pups:


The monkey pup:

Puppy piles:


Skeletor:

Devil cats (actually very sweet, for cats):


I went to a comic shop for the first time in years while I was in Madison. I ended up spending almost $60 on graphic novels. Now that I've read them, I can feel the old addiction returning, but I don't think it's worth it.

I also saw this manhole cover in Madison, on the way to the Old Fashioned from Laura W.'s place.


Chicago is beautiful when you're burnt out from studying. Of course, the most distinguishing thing about our skyline is the Sears Tower, which is why it shows up all the fucking time in my pictures.



This seen on the ride home. Worth pulling over for.



On the road with me:

I dropped my bike at the shop for a tune-up, and it may need a new chain and cassette as well since it's skipping in the back. I need to clean up my hidey-hole.

I took two or three naps today. I lost count. Can't seem to focus. I really want to eat sushi tonight. I'm debating getting take-out and taking it out somewhere else. I dunno.

Anyway, walking home in the drizzle this afternoon, I felt very positive. About what, I'm not sure. I'm feeling a lot of stress about my ABO exam, but Dana already told me I'll ace it. I'm sure I'll do fine, as long as I can keep up my studying. I'm trying to keep a positive attitude, as I slipped into a negative place for a long time and didn't even realize it until a few things brought it to my attention in the last few months.

Too tired...

...to write much at the moment. Went to Madison. Came back. Studied all day.

I've got plenty to complain about, and have had plenty of Big Thoughts. And some good pictures. All of which must wait until my life gives me a chance to relax.

Despite being a corporate marketing tool, this is an example of why I suddenly think William Shatner is awesome. The other two reasons are his Has Been record and the Scofflaws song about him. Star Trek can suck a turd.

"Did you just zap Daddy?"
"No, no, no, n- I did zap your daddy."

Certain spatial regions of my brain are suffering neurotransmitter depletion.

I studied all day today and my mind is fried. Of course, "Studied all day" really means "got out of bed at 11:00, out the door by 1:00, downtown by 2:00, maybe 2:30, then studied five hours minus water breaks and a 20 minute refreshment break and of course a 30 minute nap."

I was heading downtown and waiting at Division/Ashland when I turn around to look at the car behind me, and Maritza was driving it. I hadn't seen her since we finished dental school three years ago. So she pulled over and we chatted for a little bit. It was a pleasant surprise. You don't get that driving around. Plus it was a kick-ass gorgeous day.

I'm heading over to Les's place to play with the dobie pups in a bit. Tomorrow I hit Madison for a day or two.

And listen, about those bitter songs you sing: they're not helping anything; they won't make you strong.

Yesterday I sat in the sun in my living room and read Girlfriend in a Coma. I heartily recommend it to emo kids or anyone into post-apocalyptic existentialism.

WNUR was skeletal last night. All the vinyl's been packed up for the move.

I think I may be getting a little nostalgic for the old studios now that their time is at an end. I saw this on the wall by the production studio:

Since I was taking pictures, I thought I'd document this piece. It was a rather crude rip-off of Tank Girl a fan of the show made. I laminated it to the wall with packing tape years ago and there's no way it's coming off intact.

The pillar of doom:






I was at school all day today, getting shit done. As you can see, I got a lot done.

Tomorrow I can study more. I think I'm going to sneak into Kaplan's study area downtown since it's quiet and conducive to getting shit done.

Oh, yeah.

I forgot to mention it's spring break and I've got a ton of work to do.