Whether or not you cared for the Watchmen film, you’ve got to respect this: for the most part, people aren’t defacing Watchmen posters on the subway. It’s amazing. Every other poster, there’s teeth blacked out, toilet-stool poetry scrawled in Sharpie, or, most notably, 3-D genitalia sculpted out of chewing gum. But for some reason, the Watchmen posters get left alone.

Except for this one — which has been dramatically improved by replacing Billy-Crudup-as-Dr.-Manhattan’s CG head with Barack Obama’s wise and otherworldy dome-piece. Complete with hydrogen atom symbol on the forehead, too! You can see this for yourself at the A/C/E/B/D/F/V stop at West 4th street, NYC.

Here’s the total poster:

Here’s a closeup:

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In the audiobook version of his autobiography Dreams From My Father, now-President Barack Obama reads some choice phrases originally spoken by one of his high school friends.  But taken out of that context, we get these sound clips of a swaggering, hard-cussin’ new Commander-in-Chief.  Listen UP, y’all.  Don’t MAKE him say this shit twice.

Well, okay… do make him say this shit at least twice, ’cause it’s pretty awesome:

“Now, you know that guy ain’t shit. Sorry-ass motherfucker got nothing on me. Right? Nothing.”

“You ain’t my bitch, nigga!  Buy your own damn fries!”

“There are white folks, and then there are ignorant motherfuckers like you.”

and, for all the ladies in the house:

“Sure you can have my number, baby!”

(via The Boston Phoenix)

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Look, all the balloons and bunting are gone and the country’s getting down to business. The inauguration is over, right. But can I help it if I’m still excited? This post as been clotting the hose for me all week — I haven’t been able to think about anything else until I got this thing out. So forgive me if it seems like old news, it’s just too amazing to let it all go …

We spent the night before the inauguration in a federal judge’s chambers *right* next to the White House. The chambers were in the Court of Federal Claims, which is attached to Dolly Madison’s house, right next to Lafayette Square. Here’s a map.

This is the (blurry, crappy, yet panoramic) view from our window:
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The Obama administration’s really well known for their use of amateur video, citizen journalism and Internet social media. And they’re also really well known for doing their homework ahead of time, too.

I was at my friends Damon and Katie’s last night, as were producers from several major TV networks. Apparently they are being mandated to generate “cutaway footage” of pro-Obama inaugural parties on Tuesday night — just folks in their homes whooping and hollering and celebrating.

So when Brian Williams or whoever says “and here’s what’s going on in Washington tonight,” they can show handmade footage on home cameras. This footage will also be shown on Jumbotron screens at Inaugural balls around the city — showing the suckers who paid $500 bucks for a ticket that there’s a good time to be had for free.

So the producer set up a little camera and said “I’m taping some ‘live footage’ right now. Grab that Obama cutout and get some music going and let’s look lively.”

Somebody put Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” on the karaoke machine and a party full of folks sang loud and tumbled around, dancing with a life-size cardboard replica of Obama. I was one of those people.So if you happen to be watching sometime Tuesday night, keep your grapes peeled. I’ll be the guy with the Obama sign bumping his head on the rafters.

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Baroque Obama, originally uploaded by givepeasachance.

I know, I know.
I swear, there will be a decline in Obama-themed posts really soon. But this is such a solid pun, I couldn’t resist.

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Look, there’s a million clever Obama t-shirts out there, I know. But I saw this one in Georgetown this weekend and HAD to chase the dude down just to get a picture. Nobody loves a sci-fi reference more than I do, and mashing the President-elect with the Terminator gets my vote every time:

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It’s been a couple days now, and it keeps happening — and at the oddest times, too. Sometimes I can control it and sometimes I just let it happen, let the people on the subway stare. My breath hitches kinda funny, hiccups, and my throat and voicebox shake like a bus on a bumpy road. My eyes tear up every time and I’ve just sort of stopped wiping it away.

I can’t tell if I’m happy or sad when it happens, mostly I’m just swallowed up by the enormity of the feeling. It’s like being a particle of plankton and getting swallowed up by a gigantic, benevolent whale.

America elected Barack Obama to be the President of the United States on Tuesday night, and the emotional aftershocks just keep coming.

So along with the spontaneous, random sobs of joy and relief, I’m having this recurring hallucination. Or maybe it’s a daydream. But whatever.

Every time I see, hear, or imagine somebody doing something incredibly well, that person has Barack Obama’s head.

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A couple of days late, but…

(Via Voice In Headphones.)

(UPDATE: Apparently created by Michael Buchino, and available as a t-shirt!)

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Today is national fix-the-country day, and it’s gonna be a long one. No matter what side you’re on, you’re probably sick of the campaigning by now. As a little distraction from all the election-related news you’re sure to be drowning in, I thought I’d post a video of me telling the story of Royal Quiet Deluxe, (chicken band) at The Moth.

By way of comparison, you can read a written version of the story here.

The story links to one of our recordings, made with a primitive drum machine, delay/loop pedal, and my tireless prattling.

The following track, though, is a different sort of sound collage. We recorded it on the front porch of Tim’s parent’s place out in Botetourt County, VA, one hot summer evening. You can hear crickets and locusts in the background, something I think is pretty cool. I am playing the typewriter as percussion here, Tim is playing guitar, and the chickens are pecking and vocalizing. Tim mixed in a recording about Exotic Newcastle Disease in Southern California that was recorded over the telephone many years later, and presto — you have:

Exotic Newcastle Disease, by Royal Quiet Deluxe

There’s one more story in this saga. I’ve told it onstage at a Moth event recently, and I’m waiting to get ahold of the video so I can crunch it and post it here — and I’m working on the text version for those of you that want the full-on boxed-set experience. Suffice it to say that while the Internet has helped me find a whole new audience for this band that I never thought existed, I am 100 percent positive that the Reverend Al Sharpton still thinks the whole concept of Royal Quiet Deluxe is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

You can see a story by The Moth’s Jim O’Grady here:

Jim O’Grady on “Respect”

And a story by The Moth’s Juliet here:

Juliet Tells the Tale of ‘Mannequin Dan’

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Barack Obama just scored a majority of Texas delegates. Good. I want the guy to lock up all the delegates, superdelegates, and swing voters he can. I thought young folks were excited about Obama, but I didn’t know it went this deep … have a look at this toddler joyfully endorsing Barack Obama:

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