Communion

Communion, originally uploaded by conradh.

Bread and wine by the phone.

Every Man a King

When the inevitable economic collapse occurs, will we get a pleasantly technocratic National Uncle like FDR, or a nativist religious populist, an American Franco/Peron?

What a nasty set of dice we'll have to roll. I wish I was an optimist about politics.

"While My Guitar Gently Beeps"

Fed up posing in front of the mirror strumming a tennis racket? Still searching in vain for the lost chord? Help is on hand for all aspiring rock gods thanks to Fender® and Intel, who’ve teamed up to create a concept guitar that explores the possibilities and redefines the term ‘music on the move’ – an internet-enabled super guitar**.”

Beginning with the iconic FENDER Telecaster ® - made famous by legends from Bruce Springsteen to Franz Ferdinand – the ‘surf guitar’ is the world’s first to allow you to download and playback your favourite riffs from the internet without touching the strings, so you can sound like Bo Diddley while doing diddly-squat.

Incorporating the latest Intel® Centrino® Mobile technology, the supercharged TELE® also means players can:

• Send a quick email in-between songs on stage
  
• Scour the web for inspiration… or chords they’ve forgotten
  
• Practice their guitar solo grimaces via a built in webcam
  
• Check their royalties online

[...]
Simon Shipley, UK and Ireland Brand Manager said: “Forty years after the first surf guitar sounds came out of California, a new generation of ‘surfing guitars’ have been born.”

“With this guitar, it doesn’t matter if you’re Joe Walsh or Joe Bloggs, you’ll sound just as good once you get this guitar online, download a few of your favourite tracks, and strike a pose in front of the mirror. And if you’re already halfway to becoming a rock legend, this guitar will help you to record, playback and email your music to your agent, your band, or just your mates with the minimum hassle.

http://www.intel.com/cd/corporate/pressroom/emea/eng/248418.htm

L'apres midi d'un dorque

Idling at Kéan with Mike (used to have a big black beard Mike) today, I saw a stream of Newport Beach stereotypes including:

• 85-year-old man with perfectly trimmed white beard parking a brand new $200,000 200mph Porsche Turbo sports car, which I then observed to have an automatic transmission
  
  
• A young woman of classic magazine cover head-turning beauty accompanied by two rich and tough-looking beefy older guys. The three of them were having a business meeting, no doubt about her career. They toasted one another with Bubble-Up. The two guys looked serious the way Mafia guys look serious. She looked depressed, which in someone with her looks comes out as a pouty, puppyish yearning look. She smiled once, revealing 47 very bright white teeth.
  
  
• This woman's Ghost of Newport Past showed up, too: a 14-year-old future model, all dressed up in fluffy sweater and tight jeans and slightly-too-grownup heels. Same perfect model face. Her mother was identical and 35, with a very hard and focused look to her.
  
  
• An assortment of very large expensive cars with grilles on the front that looked like BIG MONSTER FANG TEETH MOUTHS. Each of these cars was larger than the others. Several very large diesel trucks driven by small, finely-built men in pressed jeans are included in this category.
  
  
• One 80something gentleman all covered in liver spots and combover who was trying to guide in his friend Mike to the place. He kept getting the names of things wrong, and telling Mike that he wanted to meet him at Plums but they had an hour wait "even after I told them who you ARE". There were at least five of these calls. Two other people showed up to sit with Liver Spots but Mike never showed. His dog, an ancient cocker spaniel named Annie, was doing about as well as he was and kept walking into things like brick walls and trees and then harrumphing.
  
  
• An outrrrrrageously Italian employee of Kéan. This guy was maybe 30 and looked a lot like Antonio Banderas. He was wearing the kind of lacy, frilly shirt that only guys from the Mediterranean can wear. He was slightly sweaty and had a huge 500,000 watt grin and whooshy airy hair that he held back with a headband. I don't know how he carried it off, but he was every housewife's dream European waiter/lover. Jean-Luc!