Chinese Bloggy Style

Today I spend some time helping a good citizen and a new friend, setup his baby blog.. not even one month old. He wants it primarily to write while he is off living in China. Obviously this is one of those cases where blogs are ideal, you want to let your loved ones know what’s up, you want to write your thoughts and observations of a far away place, and you’re up for sharing it with strangers who might bring their own experiences to the table. So I’ve got my champagne bottle in hand, ready to break it over the monitor, and two months before his journey begins, I baptize thee Marc&China blog. May she sail fast and far, weather the comment storms, and not be censored by the internet police.

Being a blogger of the people, it is part of my programming to spread the word, and help all beings get their own blog and go forth happily on their life’s journey. I also like to meet the chicks. I mean.. the wondrous ladies of the blogosphere.. even if they are really middle-aged men pretending.

That being said, there are no bloggers – female or male – who I worship, contrary to what it may seem. I admire everyone for different reasons. For instance, this week I’m laughing my ass off reading the Winter of Discontent’s interview series with the employee who doesn’t stop talking at the library, or the old navy ad. Brilliant abstract journalism right there.

So when I make my own award nominations, or I read about Raymi winning an Anna award, i think it’s nice. BUT THATS IT.. NICE. I don’t subscribe to the madness about who is the best blogger ever or any of that bullshit. It’s a matter of taste, different people appeal to you for different reasons. And everyone’s opinion matters and does not matter, just the same. What I would compliment Raymi on is how she seemed to condemn the idea of her winning the award… now that is cool. Someday I’ll condemn myself for winning something… cause I like modesty.

I thought I was going to end the blog, but Marty McFly is online, live from Sweden, and he’s a wordsmith and a half. Plus he’s shown me these great complaint letters from American companies to Swedish hackers, and the hilarious responses they write.

Mart says:It is the opinion of us and our lawyers 

that you are fucking morons, and that you should please 

go sodomize yourself with retractable batons.



bicyclemark says:

thats high tech



Mart says:

i don't even know what a baton is

a fluffy lill animal???



bicyclemark says:

no no

its like what the police hit you with

bicyclemark says:

on friday nights

*And Happy Birthday to J and his Brain. Who has been with the blog since way back. And has been discussing things on the net with me since.. shit.. probably since ’00.

Today’s Sounds: Off the Hook on 2600.com

My blog broke

Man… this bad boy’s been down all day long thanks to some bigtime changes with my server people on the left coast of the continental US. Matter of fact.. let me publish this and make sure the microphone is on…. I feel like christian slater in Pump up the Volume.. all I need is a Jeep Wrangler, and I’ll do the rest with Wi-Fi… just keep driving around University buildings.

Hot dam.. we’re back on the air, and just before the clock strikes midnight and my laptop turns into a pumpkin, and I leave behind a glass bicycle-tire with which the princess will run about Amsterdam looking for the bicycle-boy missing a glass tire.

Who’s blog wasn’t working much of the day. Who’s site traffic is setting records, even on days where it isn’t working properly. Who today pumped up his hosting plan from 1 American Buck a month to 4, getting him a whole lot more space and plenty of room for all them new readers that keep popping up! Welcome you new person reading this… fear not.. this is one of them “good hearted” blogs.

Lately on the communiqu? I’ve been doings lots of sentimental goodbyes. Maybe because lots of things are changing during this moment in world history. Often times the changes I’m seeing, I can’t even tell if they’re good or bad.. but change is change right?

Amsterdam’s Number One Jazz CLub…. my next door neighbor.. held its final show last night. Normally on Tuesday nights, I’ll pop in to the jamsession with my horn and I’ll sit in with the extremely judgmental and cold Conservatory Students. They know their shit, no doubt… but man.. they sure ain’t teachin social skills at that school. Is it an admission requirement that one be extremely removed and self-centered in order to study jazz? Is smiling and a warm handshake simply not allowed?… Nothing like E and my boys at Willy P, those were/are great men, though we had some real brilliant assholes as well.

How did I get here? Or yeah.. the Bimhuis has moved.. forever… to the shiny glass state-of-the-art no-personality water front. Hooray for the arts… hooray for jazz.. hooray for the yupification of the ‘Dam. I doubt I’ll ever really play open mics there. (never say never)

Speaking of changing and assholes, seems like a whole lot of them are leaving the Bush admin eh? Let me check my shitlist:

  • Powell

  • Ashcroft

  • Rummy

  • Ridgey

  • Condi

  • Wolfi

So far so good. Remind me to show you my international shit list.. it’s great!

Happy Birthday to Blueberry Girl… who left me in Amsterdam to go handle the world’s banking in Paris. City hasn’t been the same since.

Nine days to my own date of birth

Today’s Sounds: Broken Social Scene – Feel Good Lost

Time Capsulate

Years from now, when my bike tires are a bit more run down, my beard is grey, and personal hairline security loses the battle, my nephew will ask lots of questions. So travel with me now, into the future, to the year 2020, and a conversation between teenaged A-Ren and I.

“Did you really put my photo all over your blog uncle bm? Why did you do that?”

Yes I did A-Ren, I had so many of your amazing photos that grandma sent me, and I was so far away in the Amsterdam, that I felt the need to put you all over my blog. I also figured when you got older, blogs would be this ancient idea, like NEW COKE, and you’d look back and laugh, like I do when I see my own “babybook” that grandma keeps in a closet.

“Why did you live so far away uncle bm? I mean… if you really liked me…”

A-Ren my boy, before the ocean levels rose and swallowed it up, Amsterdam was a wonderful place to live. With a quality of life that was so high… I mean.. good. The children there seemed so happy riding their bikes to school. And even the adults seemed content with their tiny lives that they could pack into a tiny apartment when they weren’t in their modest offices. I started living there before you were born, and I loved it, you see my heart needed to be there. And so I stayed, even though I missed you alot, and of course, I came to visit you in NJ all the time!

“Didn’t you miss your mommy and daddy? And my daddy?”

Oh yes, you can be sure I did. I wished very much that they could visit me all the time, the same way you would come to grandma and grandpa’s house on sundays. I missed grandpa and grandma alot and I hoped they didn’t mind too much that I wanted to live in such a far away country. I especially missed your daddy. We used to go bowling together, and we’d play those old time playstation 2 games, remember those from the museum?

At the same time, thanks to Al Gore and George W. Bush, we had the internets, so even though I was accross the ocean, we spoke everyday and shared lots of photos, especially yours. I remember asking your dad about every little detail about you, how you eat, what sounds you make, etc. So even though we were far, we were still close.

“Uncle BM, what ever happened to your blog?”

My blog? Well, after using it to secure world peace, I really wanted a vacation. But then suddenly your dad asked if I wanted to move here, to mars, with you guys. And I thought, “hmm.. a far away planet.. with my nephew A-Ren.. this is gonna be fun!” So I came here and we were so busy growing organic martian food, that I stopped blogging for a while. But now that we’ve got terrestrial internet going, I’m definitely restarting the blog. I can’t wait to read what the Midnight Mailman is delivering. Or to hear about how Bitch PHD is holding up in her old age. I really want to see who wins the 16th annual Anna’s this year!

Oh look at me going on and on about the golden age of weblogs. Pay no attention, you run along now and play with the martian prairie dogs, I’m going to see if our new neighbor Brian needs a hand with his solar panels.

Today’s Sounds: Whole Wheat Radio live from Alaska

Buy Sell Kill

We interrupt the usual monday morning bla-bla-bla for a special announcement. Please welcome, in stained jeans and a Dole-Kemp 96′ T-Shirt, direct from unemployment, former White House Press jerk – Ari Fleischer!

Ladies and Gentleman. Global Citizens. Unfertilized eggs. Organisms from other planets. After almost three years of proud service to you the readers, and in continuing with the very narcissistic spirit of the blog, the Bicyclemark’s Communiqu? Souvenir Shop is now open for business y’all! (I loved when Ari used to say y’all in his press briefings.)

Thank you very much Ari, you can go back to your daytime soap watching buddy. Now I hear you thinking it…. you’re wondering.. what the f? A shop? But it was inevitable my friends, I’m a regular cottage industry. Sans cottage. And without any real industry either. Of course I don’t actually intend to make a profit, but just for the sake of transparency, I make .50 American Cents on each item. Too greedy perhaps? It’s all part of my plan {insert evil laugh}.

So if the Chilean government finally sends you some compensation cash for your family’s suffering under Pinochet, maybe this is where you want to spend your newly acquired loot.

Or perhaps you want to toast the Ukrainian Supreme Court’s soon-to-be decision to have a do-over election in 2 weeks, using a mug with my mug on it. (blog-psychic prediction)

Or maybe, just maybe, you don’t dig on global news, or the word from Amsterdam, but you support the BLOGGING cause baby. Because, as we say on the blogosphere: “You’re either with us, or… umm… maybe you’ve got other hobbies.”

Today’s Sounds: Coldplay – Parachutes (I still don’t know if I like it)

Sounds of Wisconsin

Last week, following my announcement that sunday’s would be dedicated to the wonders of podcasting, a blogreader (who will remain nameless) came up to me and said, something like:

Oh yeah, I read your post with all the nerd talk in it.

Nerd Talk? PEOPLE!

Do not fear podcasting, and do not fear sundays on the communiqu?. Rather, EMBRACE this fantastic new world of broadcasting via the net!

Maybe it’s the word itself, PODCASTING… Pod… that’s not so scarey. Like peas in a pod. And casting, like casting for a school play, isn’t that cute? Put them together, it’s not that nerdy.

All day long today I’ve been having a Dawn and Drew podcasting marathon. At first, I just wanted to give it a listen since it was listed on Loft 405’s site. But – to my surprise – I’ve become addicted to this hilarious couple broadcasting shows almost daily from their barn in Wisconsin. My favorite so far was their guest Turkey, sex for ratings, and weird phonecalls to family members about childhood embarrassment. Their personalities work so well together, it actually reminds me of the mini-shows my friends Davey Darko and Catdog used to record on my taperecorder whenever I”d lend it to them. Even here in Amsterdam I have those tapes with me and I pop them in and listen to the fun as they drive around New Jersey’s infamous Route 22.

Dawn and Drew asked the question the other day, “Why is podcasting such a guy thing?” To which Dawn replied – “is it?” So ladies… make it not be so, check out the show, search for other podcasts, show the world that it’s not a “guy thing” to be into new technology. (cause of course it isn’t!)

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT TOMORROW, right here on the Communiqu?, I’ve been working hard on a new thing.

Today’s Sounds: Dawn and Drew Show marathon (podcast)

Leftovers 4 Evah

Last nights day-late thanksgiving dinner was just what my soul needed. The excessive eats, multiple courses, exotic desserts, and Dutch-German-American-Portuguese cross cultural communication reminded me of what I love about this city and my underworld. It seemed to bring similar warmth to the other guests, some of which had never had a thanksgiving meal before. Curious K., my good buddy, seemed to especially enjoy hearing the thanksgiving stories and eating the associated food that Ms. Thingk and I provided. Shit, she even imported Stove-Top stuffing, fancy eh?

But the bigger priority on the communiqu? today is to pay tribute to those all important people who share our homes with us — roommates! Yes! Last night’s feast was Vibfun’s last meal as a roommate at the bicyclemark ranch, a sad-sad goodbye, as she moves in with her man across town.

I remember it well… our first encounter-

The class was Communicating European Goat Herders’ Political Agendas, or something to that effect, and it was a packed house, a mix of Dutch and Internationals. I’ll never forget one of the first times she spoke up in class in a fervent statement in response to some fool’s argument, as she spoke her face began turning bright red. As she kept speaking, her face only got red-er, and then as she’s speaking she says:

 ...And I bet my face is turning bright red right now,

cause that always happens, so I'll stop talking."

I remember thinking to myself. THAT’S A COOL CHICK.

I was right. And two years later, not only are we good friends, we are the best of roommates. We use the kitchen as our stage, where we act out scenes from the Muppet Show. Or we rehearse accents, our favorite being the bad-Dutch accent which I just can’t fake. But I usually provide her with an excellent French or Portuguese accent. Later she’ll read the labels off jars of tomato sauce or cereal, taking care to read each translation for each EU language. My personal favorite is when she gets to the German or Italian.

But this is how it goes with roommates, for many of us, I think. When we finally get the ones we like, we have great times, make great memories, and then one of us has to go. Later we’ll say it’s just better to live alone, and we’ll of course enjoy that when the time comes. But the truth is, there’s something irreplaceable, and unique about those university-years roommates. Later on we don’t throw things around, we don’t run around the apartment talking like characters from Star Wars or LOTR. Hell we may not even talk to our future roommates. Something about how adults are “supposed” to behave at home.

So here’s to Vibfun, and all the great times at the ranch. And here’s to the jogging king in Norway, Marty McFly in Sweden, A in Norway, and my former jersey roommates E, Keef, D-Rock, and Pasta; for all the good times in cramped spaces. I’d be lucky as hell to get roommates even 1/10th as fun and interesting as all of you. And shit… I miss those days already.

Today’s Sounds: Bonnie Somerville – Off the Garden State Sdtk.