Journal of Pirate Lingo*

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06.28.02 - 12:00 p.m.

Before I forget: last weekend was very artsy. On Saturday, we went to Graham's art bash. It took place in a warehouse located deep in a desolate industrial sector of Oakland. I love going to parties in warehouses; they make me feel "edgy". The bash was fun-- painterly paintings and bands galore, cute girls and many shades of low-brow beer. It was nice to see so many creative people wandering to & fro. The only bad part (and this wasn't really bad so much as funny) came towards the end of the night, when a band came on whose name I forget. Their description on the party flyer read: "Enjoy the afro-dub-house-trance stylings of ___". Yes. There were four of them, and they sounded like what would happen if some deranged evil DJ picked four mediocre records (from the afro-beat, dub, house and trance genres respectively) and then played them ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Did just what it said on the tin.

Then on Sunday, Josh & Nate had a big art opening at our house. They'd been working for weeks on getting their stuff together. Josh's exhibition was a series of charcoal paintings based on pictures he took of Nate & Hannah playing pranks on each other in the nude. (um, yes.) Joy buzzers, cream pies, etc. Nate exhibited some interesting sculptures (including an amazing fountain he put together in his welding class-- he welded a chain together link by link over the course of 8 hours, and then attached it to a multi-tiered fountain with strange blue discs; pictures below) and also a documentary about Paul Freedman, this guy who Nate accompanied to a bicycle cop convention in Utah. Paul went to the convention to demonstrate an invention called Lifebike.

A lot of people showed up. In addition to telling all our friends to come, we posted the announcement to craigslist, which ensured a healthy mix of random strangers as well. There were these Polish artists who apparently Josh had to kick out around 4 (I was deep in drunken dreams by then), and a guy named Jefferson Douglas with a refined Southern accent, and all these others who I met and promptly forgot. 3026 was at full capacity. Wodka. Coconut cake. More wodka.

I think people reacted pretty well to the artwork. Nate's documentary was my favorite. It had some great moments, including an interview with a bike cop who went to Rwanda and a virtuoso rap from Paul that comes out of nowhere.

"on the microphone I wreak ha-voc / utter disregards for the laws of traf-fic"

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