There's something fuxx0red with teh upgrade, and our commenting and recommending devices aren't working precisely as planned. Or, you know, at all. The IT gnomes are working on it with their tiny little hammers. Such a din they're making! But it's a break from the sound of Jack being sick into his Santa hat and Kim giving musical numbers an indie-folk interpretation. Plus there's Kahlua all over our keyboard for some reason. Sigh. Around the holidays Seattlest HQ always feels a little smaller than usual. UPDATE: Ah, the hammering has stopped. They tell us it's okay to start commenting and recommending again. Let us know if not. Just not in the comments, obviously.
If you're reading this, we have the ability to post. You don't have the ability to comment...yet. Hang in there. Once the backend shenanigans are finished, there's a new "look" for Seattlest that's going to come online as well. Along with some other holiday goodies. For one thing, if we're reading the instructions correctly--lessee, flange A goes to socket B---you'll be able to type link URLs into comments and we'll convert 'em to live hyperlinks on the fly. Is that cutting edge of 2003 or what! Anyway, it's very exciting, so stay right there on the edge of your seat.
(UPDATE: Apparently Michael Kinsley did not call blogging in general "extremely distasteful." That makes the remainder of this post less interesting. We don't advise paying much attention to it.)
Commenters, a little good news from the IT gnomes: they've figured out what the problem was with updating the thumbnail pic that goes with your commenter profile, and it's fixed. Now you can update with abandon and -- if our experience is typical -- even see changes in well under 30 minutes! That's right, in under 30 minutes, you could be seeing a whole new you. No, no. Our pleasure.
On Saturday, we took our godson, his mom and his dad to Baby Loves Disco. Since we don't have a kid of our own and don't have any experience with kid-themed events, 17-month-old Eli agreed to let us interview him about the party.
DJ Nphared spins for Sportn' Life artists, including D. Black and Fatal Lucciauno, and he also DJs for Grynch. Seattlest enjoyed his mixes at the Parker Brothaz show on Monday, so we set out to learn more about this guy's ethos.
We're not sure exactly what this is...seems like it's some voice software reproducing some of the comments Amanda Knox has made in relation to the slaying of her roommate in Italy. In Italian. With English subtitles. And music. And slides.
We appreciate your patience while they re-implement the SQL coding process for optimal FTP performance or whatever the hell they do.
Already (as of 8:35 am):
Walking down 15th the other afternoon, we were a little Hitchcocked out by the sight of a crowd of crows (or ravens, the comments section is of two minds about which) assembled on a neighbor's house and lawn. Naturally, we immediately suspected said neighbors of being witches. (Not that there's anything wrong with that. Live and let magick, we say.) A woman got out of her car while we were taking the picture and,...
Cascadia's new cocktail menu (now that we've dispensed with Big City interlopers) includes a classic called Satan's Whiskers, a combination of gin (high-end Plymouth, ideally), sweet vermouth, dry vermouth, orange juice, Grand Marnier and (very important) orange bitters. All ingredients we're very fond of, so let's go for it.
Thanksgiving doesn't allow for us Seattlesters to partake in our usual rock and roll lifestyles. Instead it's friends and family and mellow times about the house. Our drinking's liable to be more restrained and coordinated with a heavy meal of rich food. (Seattlest Geoff offered some choice beer recommendations earlier this week for those who've got a pit-stop planned on the way to grandmother's house tomorrow.) And according to the weather report, it's going to be cold but clear tomorrow, with morning to afternoon sunshine to make that drive a little more pleasant.
We're getting a new Major League Soccer team and everyone either is or should be excited. Drew Carey's walking around town, season tickets are flying off the shelves and the MLS Cup is approaching this weekend. On the field Houston faces New England, but there's sure to be a lot of talk during the broadcast about Seattle, our new team and the interesting ideas that have been associated with it. Unfortunately, no one in Seattle will see that broadcast. KOMO won't be showing it. A reader figured out it wasn't on KOMO's schedule and sent them an email. Here's what he got in return:
Attention Pearl Jam fans and Flatstock attendees: You need the new, superfancy art book Pearl Jam vs Ames Bros: 13 Years of Tour Posters.
There is something seriously wrong in this city right now. The fight between drivers and bicyclists has been brewing for years, but recently it seems to be reaching a boiling-over point. It pushes what we consider to be sane people, on both sides of the argument, into a state of rage that we honestly find a bit frightening.
A few weeks ago, Nobel Prize Laureate and co-discoverer of DNA Dr. James Watson blew through town, reflecting on how he's stayed away from stupid people, then delving into his now-customary slurry of sexist patois. Apparently he waited until he got across the pond to London to pull out the big guns:
The 79-year-old geneticist said he was “inherently gloomy about the prospect of Africa” because “all our social policies are based on the fact that their intelligence is the same as ours -- whereas all the testing says not really." He said he hoped that everyone was equal, but countered that “people who have to deal with black employees find this not true.”
Hello all--
Everyone's favorite local film critic / Ned Flanders clone got his ass dragged on to tv and shot (not literally) by the liberal media's answer to Bill O'Reilly last night when Olbermann bestowed upon Medved the coveted World's Worst (TM) position, apparently over some comments Medved made about slavery. We weren't really paying attention - since any mention of Medved's name throws everyone at Seattlest in to a catatonic rage over this incident from a year ago (we're still waiting for that letter of apology, Flanders!) - and we're not interested in searching the internets for the quotes, but apparently Medved wrote some kind of essay or gave a speech or something where he said something about how conditions in Africa were worse than conditions in America and that slave owners didn't make up a majority of the population. Or something. Did this have anything to do with the movies? Who knows... Anyway, this upset Olbermann, who accused Medved of trying to justify slavery.
When you call your memoir Avoid Boring People, as Dr. James Watson did, and then go around the country talking about it, you've set yourself up for a rather easy dig.
Last night's Arcade Fire show was rife with problems. Not with the Arcade Fire, Lord knows they can do no wrong, but with the opening bands, and most of all, with the venue. Somehow, even though the scheduled time for the show was 7:30pm, the time published everywhere---on the Ticketmaster site, in ads for the show, in UW emails, on the goddamn tickets---doors actually opened at 6:30pm and the Gossip started playing right around 7. This would explain why no one was there for their set.
UPDATE: On-the-spot photographer brentvanw adds in the comments:
Please note that the Duck was full of awestruck tourists and they were listening to "tequila" and singing along while this scene unfolded. The driver was still on her mic after the man exchanged some heated words with her and she promptly climbed out and took a look over the bow and said "Is that you? Oh my."
Uh-oh. Truly insipid story in this morning's Pee-Eye headlined "College freshmen, profs often befuddled by culture gap." Example: today's 18-year-old freshmen don't know about Apartheid, haven't seen the Godfather movies; their profs have to give mini-history lectures and take in Superbad to learn what the kids are talking about.
Yes, it's the return of Stalk of the Town where Seattlest lets you in on our weekend plans. Got something going on we should know about? Drop a note in the comments.
Sorry, "Guest," you're on your way out. Seattlest loves you--For the most part you who forgo the site's great commenter profile system to add your wisdoms to our posts are well-behaved and interesting, but our brothers and sisters across the country (heathens, apparently) are of the mind that people act differently when their words are attached to a name, any name, and that all commenters should be logged in. Starting today "guest" comments to Seattlest posts are hidden by default and soon it will be impossible to comment anonymously at all. We didn't want it this way, but it's register or perish. On the positive side, registered users can now upload a 100x100 avatar by clicking "Edit profile" way up at the top left there when you're logged in. Soon it'll be attached to all your comments.
Yesterday at about six o'clock in Westlake Center square there was a protest going on. Matching shirts, coordinated singing and sign stamping; it was the most together group we've seen demonstrating since...ever, probably. Westlake's mix of teenager hanger outers, office workers and shoppers gave them a wide berth, hanging out on the fringes as if gulping a huge breath of air before darting for the entrance to the mall. Don't look, don't acknowledge, don't--for god's sake--stop when one of them has you in their sights. Dammit, Lush is right there! Is there another entrance?
The unfortunately named Grand Ole Party opened for Rilo Kiley Saturday night to an audience presumably not too familiar with their work. GOP have a strong, simple, raw kind of sound, not unlike White Stripes or Sweet 75, kind of directionless and inert, but impressive and energetic nonetheless. They ended the set with the first song on Humanimals, "Look Out Young Son," which after a couple of listens sounds like the strongest effort on the disc.
Apparently the same kind of PR firm that emails proposals from a yahoo account. So says our confidential source at Coastal Kitchen, who told us that, just minutes after Ronald Holden's hilarious, pun filed Seattlest screed showed up in her RSS feed, she was immediately bombarded by PR companies offering to help her "spin" this story.
But then Earlimart [MySpace] takes over, sounding like Grandaddy's Postal Service, with lush orchestration. And what's when we saw god, or Jesus, specifically. It was just one of those nights where you're feeling it, and you look around and everyone else has that same bright-eyed look, and then you see Jesus working on a plate of perfectly crispy Sichuan green beans, giving his server an A-OK sign. "7.2 on Pitchfork!" Jesus says. "I loves me my rainy-day pop!" Earlimart plays the romantic swoon "Answers and Questions" [over here], they play the uptempo "Everybody Knows Everybody," they make us all sigh miserably with "Don't Think About Me" -- they've got the knack down of kicking a song off with a quiet verse, then bringing in the drums. They're backed by the Dream String Team, giving them a big 9-piece sound. It's our companion's first time at the Triple Door, and she loves it -- "This is so fabulous," she says, bouncing a little on her seat. "Normally you're at a show and you're standing and you're mildly uncomfortable -- and that's not even counting this incredible freaking banana split!" (The secret is the gelato from Gelatiamo.) Earlimart nears the last song and Jesus hops up on his chair: "You're all coming with, come the Rapture! Anybody who missed tonight -- fuck 'em!" Which, as we thought about it, was no more arbitrary than other religious proclamations, but the waitstaff makes him get back down and we notice they won't refill his wine glass, even after he waves it upside down conspicuously. Still, the announcement makes the encore particularly sweet -- Earlimart don't even make us wait that long before trooping back out.
add to digg
add to stumble upon
add to reddit
email this
tweet this
add to facebook
