It's not "news for nerds," of course, but it does cause the heads of the shallow-minded Church-hating/privacy&porn-venerating hipsters to explode, and that's always entertaining, so let it slide.
it involves the potential incarceration of someone entirely for the way in which a few pixels are arranged on a screen, that sounds like a YRO submission at least.
going from 1x1 to 2x2 is indeed quadruple the resolution, its still only 2x2, not 4x4, 1280x960 is quadruple the resolution of 640x480 and available on most lcd monitors, he just wants to double the width and hight.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but given what your saying, wouldn't it be about as easy to port X-BOX game Y to the Unreal 2 engine as to the Unreal 3 engine? Basically not easy at all?
But in any case if someone wants to port that game they will. This is probably not as big a story as it might otherwise sound.
From what I can see on consumerist.com's website, everyone involved are just a bunch of cry babies! I looked at mail.lycos.com... the policy is obviously designed to promote their $5.00 email package. the policy is also stupidly obvious and clear. Only a truly brain dead moron would read that and not know what it means. The person who lost their mail is completely to blame for their situation and should consider taking some responsibility for their own actions.
Also this vigilante attack on the customer service guy is awful. So he was a little rude, that doesn't make it right to attack him personally.
and the rest of consumerist.com belly aching is pathetic.. terrible site.
I've been a big fan since I first logged into a slackware box 6 years ago.
My question:
How much royalty money do get for each fortune I see on my login? I'm also using fortune on a few websites. Do you get royalties for these? do you get money from red hat?
Matt Labash (Q4: #12 of 20) Meee-Owww, Ian! So you've finally sunk to this: you're book's bigger than my (non-existent) book. I do, however, thank you for providing me the opening for a plug. I have, in the past, recoiled whenever anyone asked me about doing a book. As a professional dilettante, I've yet to meet the subject that will sustain my interest for the two or three years necessary to invest all of my energies into one. That is, till this roundtable. Thanks to John's inspiration, I'm now shopping around the idea to do an expose on closet bum-fisters in the highest echelons of government and polite society. I hope to call it "Sitting on Their Hands." Wish me luck.
Though I'd prefer you stop grading my papers, I'll also doff my cap to you, for all the left-handed compliments. Over the last several weeks, I've grown accustomed to our predictable ritual. Buttman says something asinine or indefensible. I smack him around for it. Then you smack me around for smacking him around, even if you largely agree with me or he smacked first. Then I smack you back. The only person that's not interested in participating in our little reindeer games, oddly enough, is Jerry -- since he'd rather talk about smack than talk smack. Still, when they finally break up our dysfunctional daisy chain, I'll be going through withdrawals worse than anything Jerry's ever experienced. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'll miss you buttheads.
I hesitate to answer any of John's questions, since he so noticeably ducked mine. I was, however, intrigued by one: "Specifically, I would like to a get a better understanding of the source of this guilt -- is it totally socially induced?" I hesitate to throw such a quaint archaic notion out there, knowing that Rufus is on deck with a corked bat, but maybe there is an elegantly simple explanation for it all. Maybe there's a God. I hate to shove any Bible down your throats, since in some of your throats, it's already fairly crowded down there, but maybe like our Old Testament friends said, God created us in His image. And maybe we don't always care too much about our image, but maybe God does care about us ruining His image. And maybe He's not too keen on His image being associated with bonking every warm opening in sight, especially not on camera. And maybe He encoded us with an innate sense of guilt, which some people are more successful at ignoring than others. Even hardcases like John obviously have it. For by his own admission, he took a masturbation sabbatical for two years, something I wouldn't recommend during my single days even in the frothiest fervor of puritanical fury. Keep in mind that social stigma is the cornerstone of most civilizations. Without it, we'd feel free to run wild in the streets, rape and pillage, maybe even burn Michael Bolton records. And really, what is social stigma, besides enforcing collectively the shame that we naturally feel as individuals? Maybe God has nothing to do with it. But if He does, it sure would answer a lot of John's questions fast.
Ian Gittler (Q4: #13 of 20) Whoa.
I'll just go back to John's statement about personal details.
You, unquestionably, are the only one on this panel (possibly save Tricia) who is willing to bare whatever you can mentally access -- in seemingly unedited fashion -- about the mechanics, emotions and practices of your personal experiences regarding porn, sex and masturbation. That's you, and possibly your career. It doesn't seem unnatural for you at all.
My own reservations about doing that? I'd be lying if I said I fully understood them.
I know I'd have had a better sense of it all if this discussion happened a little further down the road in my life, and there's a much better chance that, having far less self-understanding in my past, I'd probably have been happy to reel off all kinds of personal experiences that most non-porn people would find "outrageous." Back then my honesty would also have attached to it an annoying sense of bravado or macho posturing. You know, I'd have talked about all this reckless shit, with semi-remorse, but also with an eye on making anyone listening jealous, or at least impressed with my sexual derring-do. In a way, talking about masturbation publicly could be the same as publicly masturbating.
You don't come off that way, John.
But at this point in my life, I just don't see how it's in my best interest for me divulge that kind of personal stuff, regardless of any good it might do to further popular thought about this topic.
In a way, it has to do with my fairly recent discovery that, in the name of presenting an identity for myself based on how easy all this sexuality stuff was for me -- for years I just knew I was Mr. Sex -- well, that in itself just degraded the value of that whole aspect of my life, just sucked the value right out of it. It's only pretty recently that I realized how much better I feel about my life when I treat these aspects of who I am as more valuable.
What's kind of weird is I go into personal stuff about my youth in my book that makes me feel vulnerable and exposed, and it will be around forever. In that context I deemed it necessary. It also felt safer. It also might be part of how I've been able to move forward from there.
Here, in real time, I'm not as convinced it's worth it for me to do that. I don't know for sure, but I know I could feel surer about it before proceeding.
You're right though, it would be great if we were all doing that. John, the thing I find most interesting about your personal revelations -- and once more I must say I disagree with you about so much, and see things very differently than you -- but the normal stuff you talk about, just the simple language about your feelings with regard to all the "basics." That's the stuff I would be most uncomfortable speaking openly about. It takes a lot more honesty than, you know, bragging about threesomes or orgies or whatever. That probably is about shame.
Shame. Shame, shame. I guess I do have shame. Lots of it. If I want to change the world I'm gonna have to figure out a pretty ingenious way of getting around that one, that's for sure.
I can't say I'll ever be divulging that kind of stuff about myself. If I do, I hope I'll be getting paid more for it.
But it definitely helps that one of us is.
John Stagliano (Q4: #14 of 20) Ian, thanks for at least explaining yourself, but I'm baffled by your statement that Matt is bigger and tougher. By what standard?
Matt has made me wonder why I'm wasting my time with this discussion. None of you guys are really interested in ideas, and none of you really have any qualifications for this discussion. You are interested in mental masterbation [sic]. Personally, I'm not. I've got better things to do with my time.
Matt Labash (Q4: #15 of 20) John, if you'd like us to call the school nurse so that she can drain the excess fluids in your pretension gland, we're happy to oblige. While I don't think anybody's going to mistake these for the Lincoln-Douglas debates, in between all the parrying and thrusting, we have managed to grind out a few low-watt riffs on God and guilt and "art" (if you can call Mr. Bolton's music art, and I think Ian decided you can). Meanwhile, you've managed to discuss your transsexual line of videos, the forbidden desire of straight men to have customers enter through the out door, and your valiant struggle with chronic onanism. I have bad news for you, Ideas Boy, nobody's going to confuse you for the Dean of Philosophy at Plato's Academy. But here's an idea for you: buy a dictionary. For somebody so obsessed with masturbation, it's high time you learned how to spell it.
Ian Gittler (Q4: #16 of 20) I think bigger and tougher in the sense that someone who is comfortable with trash talking, name-calling and condescending will always beat an adversary who only resorts to that kind of thing because he sees no alternative. So, no, I wasn't implying that you couldn't kick Matt's ass, or that you have less important things to say; only that you don't seem driven by the same kind of mean-spiritedness, so why even get caught up in that?
However I don't like you broadsiding me, over and over, John. It just seems wrong. And also, I think it's unrealistic to have expected that this forum would be some kind of oasis in terms of how the world perceives your lifestyle. You have been misquoted and maligned in the press -- except in terms of your business model -- ever since I've known you, and I'm sure since well before.
Going on the offensive because I express extreme skepticism about the origins of your sexual diversions, your motivations, lifestyle, rationalizations, etc., just seems defensive. I can understand it -- you not liking it -- but can you educate me, or just accept that that's where I stand, rather than simply writing me off?
In terms of time wasted, I doubt any of us imagined the posting would be so extensive going into this thing, but there it is.
Matt Labash (Q4: #17 of 20) See, John -- and you said Ian wasn't interested in ideas. Who can kick whose ass is an idea -- sort of. Maybe next, you guys can discuss whose dad can beat up whose dad. Gentlemen, is it me, or do you too suspect this conversation has run its course?
Tricia Devereaux (Q4: #7 of 20) I've just sort of been sitting back for the past few days, listening. Thanks for letting me participate, and I really enjoyed being a pseudo-part of your roundtable.
I think we got a pretty good range of opinions. From John to me, Rufus, Ian and Matt; and I never did quite figure out where Jerry was. I think he was trying to say that he didn't really have a strong opinion: just let things be and people can make their own decisions.
Anyway, nice chatting with y'all.
Ian Gittler (Q4: #19 of 20) Same. Cheers, all!
Rufus Griscom (Q4: #9 of 20) Well, well, well, quite a love-in to return to. It's become clear that this discussion will not crescendo in a three-way of offline boy love between Matt, Ian and John as I'd hoped. (And you wondered why our contract asked for film rights.) It sounds like everyone is saying goodbyes, and you've surely earned them, but I can't resist adding a few valedictory thoughts:
I'm not sure that porn is best defended, if one chooses to defend it, on the grounds of artistry. Based on my limited sampling in the last couple decades, it would be difficult for a seven billion dollar annual budget to produce less beauty (this is roughly the military budget for coffee makers, which no doubt quicken the pulse of young men with more subtlety). It must be said that I haven't seen John's work, and if he runs with Matt's dolled up sow idea (done delicately, think Babe) I may stand erected, um, corrected.
I think there are two reasons for the low quality of the industry: 1) candlestick polishers don't give a damn about deft jump-cuts, and 2) the rank miasma of social opprobrium that surrounds the industry (which Matt and to a lesser extent Ian have been flatulating throughout this discussion) have been repelling most of the talent that can find compelling job offers in sandalwood-scented environs.
This will change: in the coming decades we will see far more interesting "X-rated" content (coming more from the indie-film side than the porn side -- check out The Lifestyle, for instance), though no doubt there is an inverse relationship between artistry and airbag inflation.
Matt, finally we come to the source of all the brotherly love you have been radiating. So we are all made in god's image, and though the hand of god touches all things, you don't see it in a fist up his rectum (it seems to me like god may be the only one who could pull of such a contortion). God has been improving sex by emboldening moral posturers to spread guilt for millennia, so we shouldn't be surprised to see Matt carrying out His will.
This brings us to shame: something I do thank god for. As we say in our mission statement, we don't want to get rid of taboos, we just want to gnaw on them like squeaky dog toys. I think most men feel quite a bit of guilt about their predatory sexual instincts and the poor reception those instincts often receive in a society in which women are empowered (by comparison with others). Porn is what they are left with. Of course, the shame recedes, and the predatory instincts become better received by women as they mature, and the process is exquisite.
Thank all of you for your contributions, quite a set of characters you are. Take care.
- Disturbing Peace is going away for awhile. They will be taking 3 months off to work hard on new material.
THEY'LL BE BACK...
03.30.02
- Disturbing Peace won 3rd place at Mosh Core. All the bands had fun at Mosh Core everything ran smooth. D.P. would like to give a big thanks to everyone who cam to support Montréal's local scene. Thanks go out to all the bands "Mr. Kyte, Evolution, Anatory, Dead cores, Mad Hatters, Biocide, Peeping Tom, Fist of Freedom and First Version"
02.21.02
- Disturbing Peace will be play at Club Soda March 29th. Mosh Core 2002 (Battle of the bands) - Click Here for more info
- D.P. will be also releasing there Merchandise if all goes well
02.14.02
- D.P. Won the Emergenza competition they will be moving on to round 2 at Club Soda in May. Wish them Luck!
I said it was not suprising so you know now that it isn't.
I know you didn't know that before, but.
Let's say a guy named Jack is attracted to a woman named Diane. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Diane, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
And then there is silence in the car.
To Diane, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Jack is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Diane is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Jack is thinking:...so that means it was... let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means... lemme check the odometer... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Diane is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed-even before I sensed it-that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Jack is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Diane is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Jack is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty...scumballs.
And Diane is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a Knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Jack is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...
"Jack," Diane says aloud.
"What?" says Jack, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have... Oh God, I feel so..." (She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says Jack.
"I'm such a fool," Diane sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Jack.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Diane says.
"No!" says Jack, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that... it's that I... I need some time," Diane says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Jack, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"Yes," he says.
(Diane, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Jack, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Jack.
"That way about time," says Diane.
"Oh," says Jack. "Yes."
(Diane turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Jack," she says."
"Thank you," says Jack.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Jack gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
The next day Diane will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Jack, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Diane's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
Slashdot Mirror
These slide show sites never have any actual content anyway, complete garbage.........
Facebook can save the day by granting the color run a license for $0.99 I hope they do :)
Your subject line and message content say opposite things. Hey, you'll be right either way! I see what you did there.
you might want to consider reading things before posting.
"And it's only going to get worse" = going to get worse
"And it's only going to get worse, Before things improve" = going to get worse
"Before things improve, they will get worse." = going to get worse
no matter how you read it the subject and body agree.
Thanks, I'm really glad I'm not the only one who thinks this guy's retarded :)
also, this means when its all over you won't be around to cry over the spilled milk, so why worry about it now?
It's hardly "news for nerds"
It's not "news for nerds," of course, but it does cause the heads of the shallow-minded Church-hating/privacy&porn-venerating hipsters to explode, and that's always entertaining, so let it slide.
it involves the potential incarceration of someone entirely for the way in which a few pixels are arranged on a screen, that sounds like a YRO submission at least.
Being born in 1986 makes you old now? Get off my lawn.
If I had mod points I'd mod you down. Just for not being a grumpy old git like me.
see?
actually its more like only allowing you to buy groceries from the place that sold you the refrigerator!
going from 1x1 to 2x2 is indeed quadruple the resolution, its still only 2x2, not 4x4, 1280x960 is quadruple the resolution of 640x480 and available on most lcd monitors, he just wants to double the width and hight.
The finder should not be the last word on weather or not a exe should be executed, does a downloaded trojen run from a command line warn the uesr too?
Yeah their job is to ensure all apple software for windows sucks enough that only mac users would want to use them.
I haven't yet, but should soon? its been two or three weeks I think.
Is this faq going to be included on the USB stick? Because otherwise they wouldn't be able to spam slashdot with it!
Correct me if I'm wrong, but given what your saying, wouldn't it be about as easy to port X-BOX game Y to the Unreal 2 engine as to the Unreal 3 engine? Basically not easy at all?
But in any case if someone wants to port that game they will. This is probably not as big a story as it might otherwise sound.
How can you sleep at night? you tease us with porn and the link doesn't even have porn!
He's just wants the money!
From what I can see on consumerist.com's website, everyone involved are just a bunch of cry babies! I looked at mail.lycos.com... the policy is obviously designed to promote their $5.00 email package. the policy is also stupidly obvious and clear. Only a truly brain dead moron would read that and not know what it means. The person who lost their mail is completely to blame for their situation and should consider taking some responsibility for their own actions.
Also this vigilante attack on the customer service guy is awful. So he was a little rude, that doesn't make it right to attack him personally.
and the rest of consumerist.com belly aching is pathetic.. terrible site.
I've been a big fan since I first logged into a slackware box 6 years ago.
My question:
How much royalty money do get for each fortune I see on my login? I'm also using fortune on a few websites. Do you get royalties for these? do you get money from red hat?
well unfortunatly Im sure its not.. grow up and suck my d!ck :)
Matt Labash (Q4: #12 of 20)
Meee-Owww, Ian! So you've finally sunk to this: you're book's bigger than my (non-existent) book. I do, however, thank you for providing me the opening for a plug. I have, in the past, recoiled whenever anyone asked me about doing a book. As a professional dilettante, I've yet to meet the subject that will sustain my interest for the two or three years necessary to invest all of my energies into one. That is, till this roundtable. Thanks to John's inspiration, I'm now shopping around the idea to do an expose on closet bum-fisters in the highest echelons of government and polite society. I hope to call it "Sitting on Their Hands." Wish me luck.
Though I'd prefer you stop grading my papers, I'll also doff my cap to you, for all the left-handed compliments. Over the last several weeks, I've grown accustomed to our predictable ritual. Buttman says something asinine or indefensible. I smack him around for it. Then you smack me around for smacking him around, even if you largely agree with me or he smacked first. Then I smack you back. The only person that's not interested in participating in our little reindeer games, oddly enough, is Jerry -- since he'd rather talk about smack than talk smack. Still, when they finally break up our dysfunctional daisy chain, I'll be going through withdrawals worse than anything Jerry's ever experienced. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'll miss you buttheads.
I hesitate to answer any of John's questions, since he so noticeably ducked mine. I was, however, intrigued by one: "Specifically, I would like to a get a better understanding of the source of this guilt -- is it totally socially induced?" I hesitate to throw such a quaint archaic notion out there, knowing that Rufus is on deck with a corked bat, but maybe there is an elegantly simple explanation for it all. Maybe there's a God. I hate to shove any Bible down your throats, since in some of your throats, it's already fairly crowded down there, but maybe like our Old Testament friends said, God created us in His image. And maybe we don't always care too much about our image, but maybe God does care about us ruining His image. And maybe He's not too keen on His image being associated with bonking every warm opening in sight, especially not on camera. And maybe He encoded us with an innate sense of guilt, which some people are more successful at ignoring than others. Even hardcases like John obviously have it. For by his own admission, he took a masturbation sabbatical for two years, something I wouldn't recommend during my single days even in the frothiest fervor of puritanical fury. Keep in mind that social stigma is the cornerstone of most civilizations. Without it, we'd feel free to run wild in the streets, rape and pillage, maybe even burn Michael Bolton records. And really, what is social stigma, besides enforcing collectively the shame that we naturally feel as individuals? Maybe God has nothing to do with it. But if He does, it sure would answer a lot of John's questions fast.
Ian Gittler (Q4: #13 of 20)
Whoa.
I'll just go back to John's statement about personal details.
You, unquestionably, are the only one on this panel (possibly save Tricia) who is willing to bare whatever you can mentally access -- in seemingly unedited fashion -- about the mechanics, emotions and practices of your personal experiences regarding porn, sex and masturbation. That's you, and possibly your career. It doesn't seem unnatural for you at all.
My own reservations about doing that? I'd be lying if I said I fully understood them.
I know I'd have had a better sense of it all if this discussion happened a little further down the road in my life, and there's a much better chance that, having far less self-understanding in my past, I'd probably have been happy to reel off all kinds of personal experiences that most non-porn people would find "outrageous." Back then my honesty would also have attached to it an annoying sense of bravado or macho posturing. You know, I'd have talked about all this reckless shit, with semi-remorse, but also with an eye on making anyone listening jealous, or at least impressed with my sexual derring-do. In a way, talking about masturbation publicly could be the same as publicly masturbating.
You don't come off that way, John.
But at this point in my life, I just don't see how it's in my best interest for me divulge that kind of personal stuff, regardless of any good it might do to further popular thought about this topic.
In a way, it has to do with my fairly recent discovery that, in the name of presenting an identity for myself based on how easy all this sexuality stuff was for me -- for years I just knew I was Mr. Sex -- well, that in itself just degraded the value of that whole aspect of my life, just sucked the value right out of it. It's only pretty recently that I realized how much better I feel about my life when I treat these aspects of who I am as more valuable.
What's kind of weird is I go into personal stuff about my youth in my book that makes me feel vulnerable and exposed, and it will be around forever. In that context I deemed it necessary. It also felt safer. It also might be part of how I've been able to move forward from there.
Here, in real time, I'm not as convinced it's worth it for me to do that. I don't know for sure, but I know I could feel surer about it before proceeding.
You're right though, it would be great if we were all doing that. John, the thing I find most interesting about your personal revelations -- and once more I must say I disagree with you about so much, and see things very differently than you -- but the normal stuff you talk about, just the simple language about your feelings with regard to all the "basics." That's the stuff I would be most uncomfortable speaking openly about. It takes a lot more honesty than, you know, bragging about threesomes or orgies or whatever. That probably is about shame.
Shame. Shame, shame. I guess I do have shame. Lots of it. If I want to change the world I'm gonna have to figure out a pretty ingenious way of getting around that one, that's for sure.
I can't say I'll ever be divulging that kind of stuff about myself. If I do, I hope I'll be getting paid more for it.
But it definitely helps that one of us is.
John Stagliano (Q4: #14 of 20)
Ian, thanks for at least explaining yourself, but I'm baffled by your statement that Matt is bigger and tougher. By what standard?
Matt has made me wonder why I'm wasting my time with this discussion. None of you guys are really interested in ideas, and none of you really have any qualifications for this discussion. You are interested in mental masterbation [sic]. Personally, I'm not. I've got better things to do with my time.
Matt Labash (Q4: #15 of 20)
John, if you'd like us to call the school nurse so that she can drain the excess fluids in your pretension gland, we're happy to oblige. While I don't think anybody's going to mistake these for the Lincoln-Douglas debates, in between all the parrying and thrusting, we have managed to grind out a few low-watt riffs on God and guilt and "art" (if you can call Mr. Bolton's music art, and I think Ian decided you can). Meanwhile, you've managed to discuss your transsexual line of videos, the forbidden desire of straight men to have customers enter through the out door, and your valiant struggle with chronic onanism. I have bad news for you, Ideas Boy, nobody's going to confuse you for the Dean of Philosophy at Plato's Academy. But here's an idea for you: buy a dictionary. For somebody so obsessed with masturbation, it's high time you learned how to spell it.
Ian Gittler (Q4: #16 of 20)
I think bigger and tougher in the sense that someone who is comfortable with trash talking, name-calling and condescending will always beat an adversary who only resorts to that kind of thing because he sees no alternative. So, no, I wasn't implying that you couldn't kick Matt's ass, or that you have less important things to say; only that you don't seem driven by the same kind of mean-spiritedness, so why even get caught up in that?
However I don't like you broadsiding me, over and over, John. It just seems wrong. And also, I think it's unrealistic to have expected that this forum would be some kind of oasis in terms of how the world perceives your lifestyle. You have been misquoted and maligned in the press -- except in terms of your business model -- ever since I've known you, and I'm sure since well before.
Going on the offensive because I express extreme skepticism about the origins of your sexual diversions, your motivations, lifestyle, rationalizations, etc., just seems defensive. I can understand it -- you not liking it -- but can you educate me, or just accept that that's where I stand, rather than simply writing me off?
In terms of time wasted, I doubt any of us imagined the posting would be so extensive going into this thing, but there it is.
Matt Labash (Q4: #17 of 20)
See, John -- and you said Ian wasn't interested in ideas. Who can kick whose ass is an idea -- sort of. Maybe next, you guys can discuss whose dad can beat up whose dad. Gentlemen, is it me, or do you too suspect this conversation has run its course?
Tricia Devereaux (Q4: #7 of 20)
I've just sort of been sitting back for the past few days, listening. Thanks for letting me participate, and I really enjoyed being a pseudo-part of your roundtable.
I think we got a pretty good range of opinions. From John to me, Rufus, Ian and Matt; and I never did quite figure out where Jerry was. I think he was trying to say that he didn't really have a strong opinion: just let things be and people can make their own decisions.
Anyway, nice chatting with y'all.
Ian Gittler (Q4: #19 of 20)
Same. Cheers, all!
Rufus Griscom (Q4: #9 of 20)
Well, well, well, quite a love-in to return to. It's become clear that this discussion will not crescendo in a three-way of offline boy love between Matt, Ian and John as I'd hoped. (And you wondered why our contract asked for film rights.) It sounds like everyone is saying goodbyes, and you've surely earned them, but I can't resist adding a few valedictory thoughts:
I'm not sure that porn is best defended, if one chooses to defend it, on the grounds of artistry. Based on my limited sampling in the last couple decades, it would be difficult for a seven billion dollar annual budget to produce less beauty (this is roughly the military budget for coffee makers, which no doubt quicken the pulse of young men with more subtlety). It must be said that I haven't seen John's work, and if he runs with Matt's dolled up sow idea (done delicately, think Babe) I may stand erected, um, corrected.
I think there are two reasons for the low quality of the industry: 1) candlestick polishers don't give a damn about deft jump-cuts, and 2) the rank miasma of social opprobrium that surrounds the industry (which Matt and to a lesser extent Ian have been flatulating throughout this discussion) have been repelling most of the talent that can find compelling job offers in sandalwood-scented environs.
This will change: in the coming decades we will see far more interesting "X-rated" content (coming more from the indie-film side than the porn side -- check out The Lifestyle, for instance), though no doubt there is an inverse relationship between artistry and airbag inflation.
Matt, finally we come to the source of all the brotherly love you have been radiating. So we are all made in god's image, and though the hand of god touches all things, you don't see it in a fist up his rectum (it seems to me like god may be the only one who could pull of such a contortion). God has been improving sex by emboldening moral posturers to spread guilt for millennia, so we shouldn't be surprised to see Matt carrying out His will.
This brings us to shame: something I do thank god for. As we say in our mission statement, we don't want to get rid of taboos, we just want to gnaw on them like squeaky dog toys. I think most men feel quite a bit of guilt about their predatory sexual instincts and the poor reception those instincts often receive in a society in which women are empowered (by comparison with others). Porn is what they are left with. Of course, the shame recedes, and the predatory instincts become better received by women as they mature, and the process is exquisite.
Thank all of you for your contributions, quite a set of characters you are. Take care.
04.07.02
- Disturbing Peace is going away for awhile. They will be taking 3 months off to work hard on new material.
THEY'LL BE BACK...
03.30.02
- Disturbing Peace won 3rd place at Mosh Core. All the bands had fun at Mosh Core everything ran smooth. D.P. would like to give a big thanks to everyone who cam to support Montréal's local scene. Thanks go out to all the bands "Mr. Kyte, Evolution, Anatory, Dead cores, Mad Hatters, Biocide, Peeping Tom, Fist of Freedom and First Version"
02.21.02
- Disturbing Peace will be play at Club Soda March 29th. Mosh Core 2002 (Battle of the bands) - Click Here for more info
- D.P. will be also releasing there Merchandise if all goes well
02.14.02
- D.P. Won the Emergenza competition they will be moving on to round 2 at Club Soda in May. Wish them Luck!
yes it is, hire my company and I'll to it for about $0.25/KM.
sounds like my girlfriend all the time.
" don't put it in that hole, it hurts"
" oh yes, thats the right hole "
" hey its in the wrong hole again!"
me: "shut up before I put it in that hole!"
AH HAHAHAHAHHAHA
No you know!
...so that means it was... let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means... lemme check the odometer... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
I said it was not suprising so you know now that it isn't.
I know you didn't know that before, but.
Let's say a guy named Jack is attracted to a woman named Diane.
He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Diane, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
And then there is silence in the car.
To Diane, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Jack is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Diane is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Jack is thinking:
And Diane is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed-even before I sensed it-that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Jack is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Diane is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Jack is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty...scumballs.
And Diane is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a Knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Jack is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...
"Jack," Diane says aloud.
"What?" says Jack, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have... Oh God, I feel so..." (She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says Jack.
"I'm such a fool," Diane sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Jack.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Diane says.
"No!" says Jack, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that... it's that I... I need some time," Diane says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Jack, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"Yes," he says.
(Diane, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Jack, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Jack.
"That way about time," says Diane.
"Oh," says Jack. "Yes."
(Diane turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Jack," she says."
"Thank you," says Jack.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Jack gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
The next day Diane will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Jack, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Diane's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
"Norm, did Diane ever own a horse?"
Hey stop that, If you don't you'll get a sonic boom in the face!