Win On Diagonals

I will

play

a show

No! I will be singing ‘The Greatest American Hero’ Captain Tom version: WED AUG 1st! at 8:30……with the Captain at a place called MATCHLESS BAR in Brooklyn:

Rules of Mölkky

© www.molkky.cjb.net, mika [piste] ahlqvist [at] tut [piste] fi

MÖLKKY: Wooden stick, used for throwing the numbered pins. Diameter 55…60 mm, lenght 220…230 mm. (see PICTURE 1)

PINS: Wooden pins (12 pcs). Numbered 1…12. Diameter 55…60 mm, length 90…100 / 150…160 mm. (see PICTURE 2)

PLAYERS: Two at minimum, no maximum limit.

MÖLKKAARI: Frame used for marking the throwing place. Not necessarily needed, since throwing place can be drawn to the ground as well. Front ~60 cm and sides ~30 cm. (see PICTURE 3)

PEN AND PAPER: Used for keeping track on points.

CLERK: Typically one player in one game acts as a clerk, changed when new game starts. If one of the players drops out of the game, he becomes the clerk.

POSITION OF PINS AT STARTUP: Pins are placed as in PICTURE 4 from about 3…4 meters from mölkkaari (the throwing place).

THROWING ORDER: In the first game the throwing order casted. In the further games, the player being the last in previous game will start and the winner will be the last one to throw.

START OF THE GAME: First player (according to throwing order) will make the starting throw.

ONCE PINS ARE FALLEN: Pins are lifted in that position where they are fallen (at the point where the base of the pin is). Pins is not fallen, if it rests against some other pin or mölkky.

POINTS FOR ONE THROW: If there is only one pin fallen, player will get as many points as that particular pin shows. If there are more than one pin fallen (2…12), player gets as many points as there are fallen pins (the maximum points are then 12).

MISS/LINE FAULT: If player does not get any pins fallen, or makes a line fault, he won’t get any points. Three such events in a row will cause player to drop out of the game (and become clerk).

END OF THE GAME: Game ends immediately, when some of the players reach 50 points exactly. If players gets over 50, his points will drop back to 25 as a penalty (no matter how much the player gets over 50).

EXAMPLE 1: Jim hits 6 pins, but one of these is resting against another pin (this pin is thus not counted). Therefore, Jim gets 5 points.

EXAMPLE 2: Heather throws and gets pin number 11 fallen. Therefore, she gets 11 points.

EXAMPLE 3: David has 45 points. So, he needs 5 points to win the game. He can achieve this by getting number 5 pin fallen or getting exactly 5 separate pins fallen. He decides to try getting 5 pins fallen, but unfortunately gets one more, and so getting 6 points to raise his total points to 51. This will cause his points to drop to 25.

EXAMPLE 4: Jennifer has 40 points. At this point, she gets number 10 pin fallen, and to total points will then be exactly 50. Therefore, Jennifer wins the game and the game is ended immediately.

PICTURE 1: Mölkky (throwing stick)

Chimpy high-brown pens try to lick the fun and merrit of the ‘Bonobo Way’

 DR. BLOCK…..DEFEND!

http://counterpunch.com/block07252007.html

                                       She was excited to use the word raiment in a sentence.  Her lips were blue as she canvassed a Cocaine Anonymous party for someone to excite with a transubstantiating short tale featuring this word exactly in the middle of the tale.  One leg in one state, the other not touching down.  Her t shirt read ‘I love rules.’ She did not find or mean the expression to be funny or weakly confront eyes that would find the trite saying irritating as they shuffled off to see their investor advisor. 

•    I was the only man or woman of Italian descent watching a fixed boxing match where an Italian would surely be thrashed by some top notch Irish Boxer in a Dublin arena under the purple protection and endless cheer-smoke of a homecoming fix.  I was drinking a Belgian beer, disgusted with the Italian’s tattoo of some fictional bird on his upperback, bothered in that paper cut zipper broken way he allowed the superior reach of the other boxer to render his jabs and curling punches as irrelevant as an international treaty in the face of the usual naked power fuck-youing when it all comes down to you know… 

A.  Was I too reliant on the memory of the Doctor’s intense migraine headache condition as material for some miscellaneous writing?  I was always trying to incorporate in some two unpainted flung pieces of prose-druff, her predilection to use very thick pens.  She stuck them in her beautifully aged dense blonde-gray curls.  These pens were rubbery stout batons with an ink-life perhaps nearly exactly the span of the total hours spent in a short month bracing herself against the unabated dolor and unmitigated gnashing of pain receptors that ensued when the pills wore off, before they

El Alto

El Alto

Typical view of El Alto – scrubland with rubbish drifting across, basic housing that stretches out across the altiplano and the Cordillera mountains in the distance. The city is one of the fastest growing in Latin America, and is a tough place to live with high unemployment and poverty, and freezing winds that bite through the skin

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ben Taussig wrote one of the only pieces i have seen on the changes made to the early 1970′s NYC noise code.  He does not site particulars, but instead writes a thought provoking meditation on what makes a city a city worth it’s death sucking starlight, and not some extention of a weatlhy suburb where prohbitions and quality of life $$$Reasoning trumps all….or as Taussig writes and i paraphrase…’happiness is a means towards improving commerce…’   Anyway…here is a linky dong

http://www.dustedmagazine.com/features/630

http://www.dustedmagazine.com/features/630

            I don’t blame the cake spinning in the window, or the movie before the show with Sean Connery dressed up as a future green robed caveman sucking on a right boob with the stalactites singing angelically over him.  Mike and I (as El Alto) were supposed to play the Cake Shop in NYC (Ludlow Street) last night at 9:30 or something close to that.  There were only 3 bands on the line up, one of them a so called ‘headliner’ from Portland. Each band was a two man/woman group.  The bartender was a vegan from Baltimore, and friendly to chat with…. (consolation…+drink tix)  Anyway, we end up getting somehow bounced to midnight.  Basically, for anyone as bored or as needful as I am just to get this out of my still slightly perturbed morning after system….the band that was to go on first, but was clearly listed second in all the flyers in the venue itself, just put their shit on stage, and decided that was the way it way, putting Mike and I in a position of having to debate/argue/plead, or something equally as embarrassing, enervating, distasteful as that.  I wanted no truck with that, and i did not feel like arriving home very late to sit around watching these bands play on a quiet music night in NYC. It just rubs one the wrong way to mysteriously go from opening, to playing last on a dead night when one has a day job the next day.  The ‘manager’ of the place was not rude, and the headliner act is traditionally granted the right to play in the middle of local acts, but trying to get to the bottom of why things turned out the way they did, this manager guy just kind was doing his thing, pretending to be in three different world’s simultaneously, only being able to jolt himself from their gravitations to talk to a mere normal guy like me with Herculean effort….  He just kind of said sorry, and asked if we wanted a better slot in September…
Oh well.
Highlight: Mike, Deb and I saw some pretty snappy fireworks on the roof garden of the joint…  They also had a yummy baguette with some brie, which I devoured.
Adding to my woes… (woes?) this morning, waking myself up at about 3am with nightmare.  I’m in a hotel room with two disgusting drug addict fat asses.  They are on the bed eating white powder.  The woman starts offering the man some of her turds…she then tells me she could make me a little one too.  The powder blue of the walls and doors are still clear to me.  The slob eating a bag of coke with what looked like a diaper on eyeing me mischievously.  I run out of this door, and within steps of being in the dream outside world; I start flying with unbelievable, palpitating lift and velocity.  I have never flown so furiously in any dream.  It cost me a decent nights rest.