Some links on the candidates and 'smaller' issues (like the arts, animal rigts, and Native American rights):

Every time I think I like Barack Obama, I like him More,

And then a little more

And then, more than I really though possible.

McCain has spent almost no time dealing with the "smaller" (ie not media-friendly) issues in this campaign. In fact, his record on animal rights is downright good for a Republican (75% on his Human Society scorecard)- but he can't be bothered to release a statement.

His record on native rights, on the other hand, is even more abysmal than you would expect, and Palin has actively opposed native rights in Alaska.

Most of us make our decision based on the 'big' issues. Which is whay I'm so impressed by a candidate who takes the time to actually focus on the ones that will never garner the front of MSNBC.

I know everyone is ranting their own flavor of political rant as we run screaming willy-nilly into election time, but I've a couple of things to add:

-First, thanks to everyone who donated to the Planned Parenthood Sarah Palin protest. They raised over a million dollars from at least 32,000 donors in all 50 states. For a really grassroots protest, that's a solid message and a lot of money. If you didn't donate before, of course, there's still plenty of time left.

-Secondly, I want to give a little bit of space for a couple of friends of mine to express their views. Sorry, thoswe of you not here in California.

Edgar and Allan Toad hope you vote No on 8.





Do not deny their union. Do not deny Allan's need for love, commitment and three month's salary worth of bling. Or Edgar's need for that fine, fine frog ass.

Yes, I am serious about the mask.




Saturday night. Echoplex in Los Angeles. Get in free with costume.

I promise to do something disturbing with a pumpkin.

Don't have a costume? Do have a costume but still love me enough to carry one extra thing? Print out your own
Aphex Twin mask. Anyone at the stage wearing an Aphex Twin mask when I go on gets free candy.

I spent the day sitting in the cafeteria from the new 90210 (holds less than 50 people. What high school cafeteria is this small????). Best discovery- the sushi in the case? Not some clever Hollywood super special fakey fake sushi. Nope. The wind-up kind with little wheels. All of it. And, after six hours on set, I'll be shocked if you even notice my shadow passing outside a door in the episode. Le sigh. Such is the life of an extra, eh?

Meanwhile, I feel nasty head cold coming on.

VISA GOTH: When Two Men Share an Umbrella

If you are the sort who has any interest in a long involved fashion column about umbrellas, Please visit my regular blog at The Devil is in the Details. Because it is one in the morning, and I don't feel like reposting all of those pictures.

Oh, Lighting Effects filter....

(originally posted at The Devil is in the Details)

This week I picked up paint and brushes again for the first time in a very long time. I've tried a few times in the last year or two, but nothing would come out. I would sit for an hour or two staring at the canvas or paper, globbing paint into forms that seemed alien and painfully askew, and then I would get frustrated and everything would go back into the closet again.

Part of this was the overpowering depression that I was under, part the lack of space and light and time. But a few months ago, I found myself doodling at work again. Doodling had long since dropped from the list of things I did to waste time, and it's recurrence was rather surprising. In part, I have Eliza Gauger to thank, as she doodled back at me and caused an escalation of creepy doodles left as notes in odd places.

Then, I had a conversation the other night with the boy, and in the frank and honest way he has he drew my attention to the fact that I had been churning out a whole lot of nothing lately. It was like I had nothing to say, but I couldn't stop talking. Or, I was just lazy. Or maybe I fell into bad habits when I was too depressed to do anything but keep breathing.


He's right. It's time to quit coasting. Not just with painting- with pretty much everything.

It's that time of year again- Horrorfest. I wasn't really planning on competing again this year. Really, I wasn't. But then I got a call about the live auditions. And I started thinking about it. And the simple fact is, if there is one thing I hate, it's losing. I've got a nasty competetive streak that just can't stand to come out second-best. So I went to the live auditions. I am, as you probably guessed, also turning in a YouTube video. I didn't really prepare way ahead of thime this year, so the production value is pretty low. But then again, it's a sequel. You expect that.

You will notice that this year I'm using my own name- Nixon Sixx, vs. Nixon Suicide. I know people will ask- it's no slight to SG (in fact, I'm sitting in the office stealing the wifi right now). But this past year I've launched my own website and blog and moved to Los Angeles to work on my career, and I'm doing lots of stuff that isn't directly SG related. So, I'll still be using the Suicide name when the project is SG, and using my own leetle beety brand when it's not.

So, Go watch my silly video. Leave me a comment. And get ready for a string of silly videos to come your way!

For those of you that asked, the music is Zombina and the Skeletones.

This is the beginning of a zombie horror movie

This is what happens when a boatload of cracked out ravers and two goth kids (taht's us curled up at the front of the boat, bein' all cute and shit) who have been out partying on houseboats for three days leaves the boats to go home as sunset falls across the lake, casting beautiful shadows off of the HUGE FUCKING TREES protruding from the water. Shortly hereafter, we were lost in the dark, guiding the boat (which had, oddly, NO HEADLIGHT) into an ABANDONED FUCKING HARBOR where empty boats creaked and swayed, then creeping back across the lake by flashlight, iPhone, and TheRightBastard's laptop. Thank Gawd for GPS.

All in all, a charming weekend at the lake.

Remember that tonight I'm in SF go-go-going for Suicide: The Party at Ruby Sky.

Yesterday, I was on a flight up here with Sawa and Zoli, when we discovered that Virgin America now has an in-flight chat feature. So, of course, we did what we always do. Sat next to each other typing each other massages. Thanfully, the other people on our flight seemed disinterested in this feature, allowing up to play a long round of the Alphabet Game with dirty words.

Asshole
Butthole
Cockhole?

Obviously, the uproarious laughter and crude exclamations did not delight our fellow early-morning commuters.