For People Who Really Read And Write Good.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
The Decisive Moment
I have studied photography for years.I had my first darkroom when I was twelve. I pursued this interest throughout my life. I experimented with different films and styles and finally stuck with straight forward photography. Photo shop, can duplicate my early infra red efforts and darkroom magic, double exposures etc. I have also discovered with the advent of so many quality point and shoot cameras that if you give an infinite number of neophytes an infinite number of cameras, eventually someone is going to create a masterpiece.
This is a picture of Boz my former advisor. I am jealous of the photo because it truly captures the "decisive moment" to quote Henri Cartier Bresson who is quoted below. This photo is a masterpiece created by a neophyte, he caught the decisive moment , something I have been struggling my whole life to achieve. I hang my head in shame, life is not fair and so what~` I will carry on by God with the full knowledge there is little chance of matching let alone eclipsing the artistry in this photograph. JWW
For me the camera is a sketch book, an instrument of intuition and spontaneity, the master of the instant which, in visual terms, questions and decides simultaneously. In order to "give a meaning" to the world, one has to feel involved in what one frames through the viewfinder. This attitude requires concentration, discipline of mind, sensitivity, and a sense of geometry. It is by economy of means that one arrives at simplicity of expression.
To take a photograph is to hold one’s breath when all faculties converge in a face of fleeing reality. It is at that moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy.
To take a photograph means to recognize – simultaneously and within a fraction of a second– both the fact itself and the rigorous organization of visually perceived forms that give it meaning.
It is putting one’s head, one’s eye, and one’s heart on the same axis.
Henri Cartier Bresson
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
The Best of Last Over (a book review)
This is something I have never done before. I am thinking outside the box and fishing for new revenue streams. Amazon better realize they have a good thing with me, if they don't pay I'll jump ship!
"The Best of Last" Over by Paul Clipper
I've included a link for more info and pricing.
Every time I read this I am reminded of the time I ambled home from the local pubs and upon walking into my house found it had been ransacked! My phone was on the floor,VCR on the floor stuff was scattered everywhere, my first thought was I had been robbed, but why was my wallet lying on my dinning room table? ( When I walk into the village I like to travel light, a little cash and a strong thirst).
I looked around puzzled and then heard a chirping noise coming from my upstairs, I quickly recognized the chirping as that of a Raccoon.I put two and two together and decided I needed some self defense so I ran down to my basement and found a ski pole I thought would be suitable for corralling a Raccoon out of me casa. I slowly rounded the stairway to my loft and stood staring at three juvenile Raccoon's. I kinda told them to leave and they just looked at me puzzled, I said "scoot get a move on come on get". No movement so then I realized I needed to be more aggressive and I got between them and my stairs and started screaming profanity's and banging the ski pole on my floor, they got the idea and I finally herded the little bastards into my basement. I opened my entry door and persuaded two to leave but the third was jammed tight face forward in between my ceiling joists not ready to be my friend. At this moment of confrontation I heard a little motor sound buzz past my house and I new it was Boz the Village midget and he was riding his 50cc mini bike back from the pubs himself. I was at wits end so I called him and asked him if he knew how to scare a Raccoon out of your house, his reply was simple "you got a gun"? I said thanks remembering what my dad had always advised me, never ask a midget on the sauce for advice. It occurred to me I had scared the Raccoon enough so I just left my basement door to the wilds open and went to bed. In the morning the the little guy was gone and all I had to do was pick up the mess and wipe down all the soot from the chimney they had spread.Its like dude why do I always think of this when I read this book? Read the book, if you like reading and riding then its a good fit also never seek consul from a drunk midget.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
From the Desk of ...Doh!
This new mouse invention is the bomb! You can program it to bite you fingers and or daddy/mommy parts if you are spending to much time on porn sites at work. Or it can be programmed to do the same if you are doing to much work for your pay and need a little porn break. I purchased the patent for this little marvel off a reputable patent lawyer(oxymoron).I will accept, cash, paypal, Western Union, barter and stuff for this nifty gadget, it can ..DOH!
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
I Toad You!
I have been working 36/8 so have found little time to live my life, relax, read, write book reviews, save people from imminent peril etc. I have been forced to plagiarize and such for posts.Why? Because toilet shamed me into believing I lost it...How he knew being interneticly challanged as Roscoe suggested I just dont know~`
Don: Hey, Napoleon. What did you do last summer again?
Napoleon Dynamite: I told you! I spent it with my uncle in Alaska hunting wolverines!
Don: Did you shoot any?
Napoleon Dynamite: Yes, like 50 of 'em! They kept trying to attack my cousins, what the heck would you do in a situation like that?
Don: What kind of gun did you use?
Napoleon Dynamite: A freakin' 12-gauge, what do you think?
Monday, March 13, 2006
Movies Are The Bomb
My brother wrote me recently (among others) for advice on movies to watch. He had been to Block Buster and thought the selection sucked. A friend of mine came to the rescue with some titles gleened from http://members.shaw.ca/stayasyouare/tohwpmt.html
which was gleened frome Brad Yungs collection of the hundred worst porn titles. If anyone has advice for my brother toilet for movies to watch please let me know ,the poor boy is desperate. JW
1. Jerk Your Cum Crayon And Color Me White - You kids play nice, now ...
2. Beverly Hills 9021-Ho ! - I can rhyme, too ! 9021-NO ! See ?
3. I Saw Mommy Eating Santa Claus - which caused the severe childhood trauma which led to a lifetime of doing nothing but watch pornos ...
4. 21 Hump Street - let me guess, starring Johnny Deep ?
5. Shaving Ryan's Privates - It's a gay film. As I said above, I did not include any gay titles because they always make me giggle or extremely uncomfortable, and it would have doubled the number of titles I would have had to sort through. I am not gonna open the floodgates ...
6. Edward Penishands - Everybody recommends this one.
7. DUDE, WHERE'S MY DILDO ? - Bad movie, probably a bad porno based on a bad movie.
8. ULTRA KINKY #79 - BOWLIN' IN HER COLON - Bowling balls and colons, such a pretty image.
9. ASS-HOLE O MIO - You've got to be kidding.
10. HOMEGROWN VIDEO #489 : FUCK THE CANUCK - Trouble rhyming "bitch" today?
11. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE VAGINA - Kurt Russell should be so lucky ...
12. GOOD ASSTERNOON - I want to see a porno with really amazing dialogue. This won't be it.
13. BACKDOOR ADVENTURES OF BUTTHEAD AND BEAVER - Too obvious.
14. HINDFELD - A porno about nothing.
15. TEA BAGGER VANCE - Did anybody see the original movie ? Yeah, whatever.
16. MUSIC TO FUCK TO - ONCE, TWICE, THREE TIMES A LABIA - I would watch this if they actually got Lionel Richie to sing the new lyrics with a close-up shot of him crying.
17. GERANALMO - Sure, why not ?
18. BRASSIERE TO ETERNITY - You're reaching ...
19. TIG OL' BITTIES - Spoonerisms can be fun. Sometimes not.
20. MOULIN SPLOOGE - You saw this one coming ...
21. TITS OF FURY - ... but not this one ...
22. GERMAN WHORE FARE - Well, I groaned ...
23. SHE'S NOT A LESBIAN ... SHE'S A VAGITARIAN - Sigh ...
24. TOOKIE RAIDER - Tookie ? Tookie ??? You're just making up words now.
25. MUFFUGNUGEN - That's just lame, man.
26. PRIME CUTS - ONE FELL INTO THE POO-POO'S NEST - You went to college for this ?
27. FILTHY FUCKERS #184 - POKE 'ER MON - Who exactly is your target audience ?
28. RIMMERAMA - It does kind of roll off the tongue, though.
29. HOOTERS AND THE BLOWJOBS - Sometimes the music in porn movies is kind of interesting. Not this time.
30. HUNG WANKENSTEIN - Two, count 'em, TWO bad puns in one title ! I want this job !
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Erin O'Brien Book Review
A Great Read For Those of You That Read, March 5, 2006
|Reviewer:||Jonathan W. Williams (usa) - See all my reviews|
Friday, March 03, 2006
Read My Blog or I Will Shote You
Thursday, March 02, 2006
THE TANGENTIAL BOOK REVIEW
THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO THE TANGENTIAL BOOK REVIEW
How to write a tangential book review. As a pro book reviewer I grew weary of the standard book review, I hate critics so I only choose books I enjoy or at one time enjoyed and then I review them with out prejudice. Now just because I have make up things does not mean I am a liar, all my reviews are based on fact, see poetic license.
What I do is find a story that I need to tell and I write it down without much thought so as not to upstage the book I am going to review. I finish my story and then I go to my book shelf , sometimes my memory and decide on a book I have read and choose it for the review. I then mention that I like the book and then try to segue my tangent best I can. (again no need to get anal with this) Perfection is what motivates me as a reviewer. Most of the time nothing really makes sense to anyone but me and whoever may have been present or been offered the repetition of the story to the point they would rather open a vein than hear the story again. Some story’s have never been recounted then I count on people to trust me and my good friend poetic license.
Bullet Points: * Give a short intro about the book. (brevity at its shortest)
* Tell the reader it "reminds you of the time".
* Tell your tale.
* Wrap it up about how much you liked the book.
· Done and done.
Don’t lose heart it is not as complex as it may sound, so give it a try if you feel inspired, it don’t cost nuthin.’
17 of 26 people found the following review helpful:Read the book, March 25, 2005
|Reviewer:||Jonathan W. Williams (usa) - See all my reviews|
It was around 1971/72 that I first discovered an alternative to how to determine if your motorcycle had spark or not. I credit my brother Charles Chadwick with this revelation and I will soon explain. This was in the days of Nixon's Watergate, Hunter S Thompsons prime, Dark Side of the Moon's debut and me learning once again that my brother cared so much about me as to teach me to trust no one.
I had been riding bikes for awhile and being a child of nine/ten I cant blame myself for being ignorant of the workings of a two stroke internal combustion engine. I knew how the method of testing for spark if your bike would not start, just take the plug out lay it on the head and kick her over, you see spark you have spark.
Good ole Chuckles ever mindful of my education taught me a shocking method of discovery.
This was along time ago so patience please, my bike would not start, I did everything I knew mechanically to diagnose the problem. The bike had gas, the fuel petcock was turned to the on position. I checked for spark...nothing. Chuck came to my rescue and started to work on my bike kick it over and over as if it could be flooded, mumbled a number of ridiculous hypothesis why my bike would not start, then I should have recognized that dreadful glint of discovery in his eyes, he had a solution. "Josh hold onto the plug while I kick it over I need to check something"...Although my last Doctors visit did not indicate I am in imminent peril of going into cardiac arrest , I learned from my beloved brother at the tender age of nineish what it must feel like when you hear from the cold distance a paramedic yell CLEAR! A shocking revelation, and a lesson well learned.
Travel through time abit to 1976 and I am riding in North Carolina with me Da and my brother, we always visited in the summers and Christmas since this was where my grandparents lived. Always a good time and always a good story , if I could only remember them all. This year it was Christmas and me da had the state of the art Yamaha 1976 360 mono-shock motocross bike. Set him back a pretty penny, I agreed not to go to college so he could indulge himself. The bike was awesome! I being a prime example of neoteny could only ride the bike if someone would start it for me and then I would run along side it and jump on when I felt I could balance the beast. The thing was a brute but my god what a blast, I can still can feel the power and glee piled upon glee and...Where was I?...Yea North Carolina, me da, Chuckles (Charlie does not like this nickname, nor do I like being shocked by a live spark plug, paybacks) were out riding on public land, a big sand field really, I dunno, this was 1976 for crying out loud and lawyers/environmentalists had not gained a foothold on the proper methods to bleed us of our freedom to ride around and have fun. Me da took a break, gassed up his new 360 and then promptly could not start the thing. So being the father of my gene pool he naturally pulled the plug on the bike and laid it on the head to check for spark, which it did indeed have and the bike suddenly fired up, not in the traditional way but in the way when kicked over a bike reeking of gas and set a live spark to it will fire up... I missed all the excitement , the futile efforts of throwing sand on the burning pyre of sport , the profanity and the facial expressions, National Geographic cover worthy facial expressions one can imagine. I road back only to find that the nitrogen shock had exploded and it was pretty cool but not worth the price of admission me da assured me. We drug our bikes home that Christmas the blackened carcass of the 360 among them and listened to the truckers and the hip crowd with CB's make comments
on the two bikes with the charred remains of something...My mom was a good sport , my da did not cry (at least in front of me) and for awhile ole Chuckles and myself had to share our bikes with Da. ">