12.14.05 the toothsome headless poopsmith

NP: The “Going To…” Series – The Mountain Goats. John Darnielle has 44 songs whose titles contain the words “Going To” and end with a city or town or state or country. Like “Going To Georgia” or “Going To Santiago”. 23 of those 44 songs have been officially released in some digital format. A few more are on cassette-only releases that still haven’t been re-issued, and most of the other ones have never been recorded, except in live bootlegs. This playlist (in .m3u format) contains all 23 that have been released, in alphabetical order. Aren’t you glad I didn’t put the entire 267-song MG playlist (yes, I do have one) up?
NP: "The Gallis Pole" – Leadbelly
NR: Dec. 19th issue of The New Yorker:
"Wouldn't you love to see Beaver Street that empty?"
"And that wide!"



To be really good at poker you’re supposed to be able to think to the fourth level. As in:

Level 1 – What do I think he has?
Level 2 – What does he think I have?
Level 3 – What does he think I think he has?
Level 4 – What does he think I think he thinks I have?

Confused? You should be. Getting to #3 is relatively easy, at least if you play enough. Making the leap to #4 is the equivalent of the difference between being good at table tennis to being AMAZING at table tennis. It’s a whole different physics, mentality, chessmatch, whatever. It’s an entirely different plane of meaning.

I bring that up because it’s something that’s been haunting me lately, but also because I just read Count d’Orgel’s Ball by Raymond Radiquet, and that’s what it’s all about.

Two people fall in love, and the way one of them acts makes the other one think that they haven’t read the letter the woman sent, but really the man is just acting that way because he knows he must act as if he hasn’t read the letter, but instead of having the desired effect, it makes the woman feel like he is cold and unfeeling, which in turn causes him to behave in a (yet-again) different manner. For example (kinda).

At first I didn’t think I liked the book, but eventually it spiraled outwards quite nicely, and came to a satisfying end.

Maybe it helped my poker playing, too. I went to RRRR and took $810 off the table in a short short session. But probably not really. I flopped three sets in an hour (all of them held up), and I induced two bluffs in all of that and made nice calls. I also flopped trip 7s and took down KK (had I known he had KK [he didn't raise pre-flop] I could have taken all his chips, but instead I did get $175 from the guy), and then next hand I had KK and won a small pot of like $20 profit. I also limped with K8clubs in the big blind, the flop came two clubs, everybody checked around, the turn came an A, everybody checked around, and the river came a third club, I checked (there’s $12 in the pot), some guy bets $30, I raise to $65 (if somebody in late position had the Ace high flush draw AND a pair of aces, I think they would have bet on the turn), it folds to me, I raise to $65, and the guy goes all-in for $120. I call immediately and call out “second nuts”, and take him for his entire short stack in an un-raised pot. Free money! He had two pair (Aces and 5s), but... what a dumb all-in.

So, I don’t know if I really played that well, per se. I was just getting good cards and people handed me their money. Can’t complain about that.

-------

Back to that whole "levels of thinking" thing, above. It's been what's been haunting me since the trip to Atlantic City that Mitch and I took two weeks ago. I've not been able to write about that trip yet, because it's just so painful and awful. So many bad decisions, so much money lost. But there's still one hand that has haunted me, and it's haunted me because I was thinking on three or four levels, but I made a critical mistake: I was playing against a woman (and i feel bad, in a way, that it was a woman, because I feel that this will sound sexist), who wasn't even thinking on the first level. And therefore, trying to apply higher levels of thinking just doesn't work. This woman was only playing her own cards, and making a move on her was a bad idea. Well, it was a good idea, but I got an unlucky card on the river that made her make an unbelievably bad call, which just so happened to be correct.

Anyway, if you were holding A8, would you call a $320 all-in bet on the river into a $380 pot when the board is showing:

???

I don't think any poker players I know would, but she did. And she sent me to my room at 6 AM because she did. Here's how the hand played out:

I limped with 56diamonds, one of the blinds raises to $12, a couple of callers, I call. 4 players to the flop, $50 in the pot. On the flop the original raiser in first position bets $30, the woman to my right calls, and I call. My preliminary guess is the first guy has AK or AQ and missed, and the woman to my right also has a flush draw (which means my flush draw is dead, but I still have a gutshot and a straight flush draw. So I look forward to seeing what happens on the turn. 3 players, $140 in the pot.

The turn pairs the 2, and I think it's no help for either of them. Sure enough, the first guy checks, and the woman bets $30. I'm positive my read on both of them is correct, so I decide that I'm going to try to bluff and either take the pot down right here, or on the river. I raise to $120. First guy folds quickly, woman calls pretty immediately. Her call makes me think I'm correct (i probably should have raised more on the turn, but... I also made a raise that looks like I have a great hand and i WANT her to call. Too many levels of thought. I pray for a 3 or a blank on the river. Two players, $380 in the pot.

The river comes a black 8. A total blank. Sure enough, she checks. I figure I'm going to take the pot down right here. I go all-in for $320. She starts pulling chips out from her stack and placing them in front of her cards, while asking how much it is. Her chips are all scattered in different piles of denominations. The dealer says "if you want to call, you can just say call". She says "call", and I throw my cards away as she turns over A8diamonds. My read was perfect. Just somehow she hit that 8 on the river, and thought it was good. At least two players on the table make eye contact with me and roll their eyes in shock. Both in shock that I didn't have a boat or trip 2s, and also that she called with a pair of 8s. More that she called with a pair of 8s. I started that hand with $500. I should have ended it with $700. Instead, I go home down $1500 for the night. I played everything perfectly. So so SO well. Except for the fact that I was playing an idiot, and then nothing else matters. It's one of the two basic rules of poker:

1. If you look around the table and can't spot the chump, you're the chump.
2. Never bluff an idiot.

I think I finally learned the latter.



12.08.05 stubbornness

NP: "Far Away" – Clearlake
NP: "On Parade" – Electrelane
NP: "To Live Is To Fly" – Townes Van Zandt
NP: "Blessed" – Simon & Garfunkel
NP: "An Island" – Devendra Banhart
NP: "Disappear" – Crooked Fingers
NP: "The Leaves Grow Old And Fall And Die" – Hood
NP: "On The Other Side" – The Strokes
NP: "The Fallen (Justice Edit)" – Franz Ferdinand
NP: "Random" – Lady Sovereign
NR: The New Yorker. That’s going to be a common answer.



Wow. Crazy night of poker. I mean, literally crazy. Or at least manic. Went about as high and as low as is possible at the stakes I’m playing. Went to RRRR to play the Wednesday night tournament. Got there at 6:30, and there was a cash game seat available, so I sat down with $400. Limped a couple of times for $2, folded to a raise. Called raises to $17 or $18 twice with suited connectors and threw the cards away on the flop. Mostly just folded for 15 minutes.

Pick up AA under the gun. Decide to try the limp-re-raise. It’s been a fairly loose and fairly aggressive game. Sure enough, Murphy's Law (or some version of it) kicks in, and the entire table folds around to the button, who raises to $15, and both the little and big blind fold. I see that the button has only about $140 in front of him, so I decide to slowplay a bit. The flop comes K 7 3, two clubs. I bet out $20. He raises me to $45. I decide to push all-in right here, in case he might be on the flush draw, or, because he might think I’m on the flush draw. He thinks about it for a while. I think he’s going to fold (I’ll still make $60 profit if he folds… I’ll be back to even from the limping and folding I did earlier. I’ll be happy with that, for a heads up pot.). Then, amazingly, he calls. Turns over KQ, and my AA holds up. So I make about $160 profit.

Play a few more hands, and then I hit the kind of hand poker players just dream about.

Somebody early raises to $10. I have Q 10 diamonds. Somebody calls, I call, three people call behind me.

6 players to the flop, $60 in the pot.

The flop comes:

I have a gutshot and the second nut flush draw. Original raiser makes it $45, guy to my right calls, I call. Other three people fold.

3 players to the turn, $195 in the pot.

The turn:

The best card in the deck for me, really. I’d rather hit the gutshot than the second nut flush. I could always lose with the second nut flush, but right now I’ve got the nuts, and a killer redraw. But I’m worried about the first guy having a set, and I don’t know what the hell the guy on my right has.

First guy bets out $45. That’s either a scared bet, or he has a monster. Next guy calls the $45. Now I think one of them has a set, but I’m not really sure which one. I think the bet or the call is a desire to see the next card cheap, but not a slowplay. Either way, I feel like I need to raise, and hopefully take the pot down right here.

I raise to $275, which is basically a little less than the pot. If anybody’s gonna call, they are going to get 2 to 1 odds, but I’m not going to give them any better than that. I really think I just want to take the pot down right there. It’ll be a $225 profit right there if they both folds. First guy thinks about it for a little while, shakes his head, folds. I think I’m right with my original estimate – I think I just made him lay down a set. Next guy looks like he’s going to fold, and then decides to call. Now I’m loving his call. The only hand I’m really worried about from him is the Ace high flush draw, and since I have two diamonds, I know he only has 7 outs, not 9.

2 players to the river, $790 in the pot.

I still have the nuts.

Guy asks me how much I have left. I answer $190. He says he’s all in. I don’t even bother putting my chips in. I say “I call. I have the nuts”, turn over the Q 10, and he mucks.

And I have $1175 in front of me after 35 minutes of poker, up $775.

Sweet.

-------

So I then cash out and play the tournament. I’m playing really well. Chip leader on my table, probably #3 in the tournament. Then it goes down to 2 tables, I get moved, and I lose all my chips in like 3 hands over the next 20 minutes. But, to be honest, I don’t think I care. I think I’m just happy to be up $700 for the trip to RRRR, and I get out of there.

-------

I go, I eat, I watch TV, I talk with Kendel. And I want to go out and play some more at LLLL. So I go. I sit down at 12:30 with $250. Lose $150 of it quickly, and I top up. I lose it quickly, as well. Buy another $250. And it goes away. I get priced into a cheap shot at a nut gutshot draw, which doesn’t hit, and a nut flush draw which also doesn’t hit. I top off for another $100, then I top off for another $150. Then I get KK with $200 in front of me, and somebody calls me with middle pair, hits trips on the turn, and I lose all my money to him.

I stand up, put on my sweatshirt, put on my sweater, put on my headphones, and get ready to walk out the door. It’s been 2 hours, I haven’t won a single hand, and I’m down $900. And I’m going to get the hell out of there.

Or I’m not. I say “I’m going to win one fucking hand before I leave”, I take off the stuff I just put on, and sit back down with $200.

Two hands later I pick up KK again. Raise to $15 in early position, guy reraises me to $35, folds to me, I make it $80, he goes all-in for about $200, I call immediately – I saw him make the same move with AJoffsuit earlier – and sure enough he has AcQs (which is “my hand”… I once won a $2400 pot with that hand), and, luckily, my KK holds up. I play about another hour, get my $200 up to about $600. I hit one other big hand in there, but I don’t remember what it was. My table breaks, and I move over to the other table at around 3 AM.

I play for a bit, get up to around $800, then go back down to $600. Then I hit the breakthrough hand of the night.

I limp with 10 4 clubs. There’s a small raise behind me, I call $15 pre-flop with 5 other players. I’m second to act. The flop comes:

I bet out $50 with my top pair shitty kicker, hoping everybody has overcards or small pairs. Guy immediately to my left raises to $100, everybody else folds, so for $50 I’ll see another card. And what a beautiful card it is:

I have top pair, I’m open-ended, and I have a flush draw. Whatever this guy is holding, I have a shitload of outs on him. I check. He bets $100. I know I’m way behind, but $100 to see if I hit something on the river is worth it. There’s $375 in the pot, and I quickly put in my $100 to make it $475. The river is even better than the turn:

I know I’m winning. If he has an overpair, he doesn’t have a flush. There’s no way in hell he has a straight. If he has a set, my flush beats him. And there’s no way this guy would have raised me on the flop and the turn with a hand like AQclubs. I know I’ve beat him. Now how much will he pay on the river?

I bet $150. He fucking flips out. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What the fuck!” Gets up from his chair. Walks around for a couple of seconds. Keeps looking at his cards and is all exasperated. Finally says “I like you, I’m going to pay you off. Puts in the $150. I call “flush” and turn over 10 4. He immediately puts on his jacket, picks up his chips, and goes to cash out. He tells the people he had a set. I wonder if he had a set of 10s, something lower, or if he made a set of kings on the river. I secretly hope it’s the latter, but I don’t really know.

All I know is I have $1000 in front of me, I’m only down $100, I’m the big chip stack on the table, and I’m feeling good.

It’s 4:30. LLLL closes at 6:00. I decide to ride it out to the end. Around 5:30 I flop a set of 4’s, on the turn a third club comes on board, I bet it out $45 into the $120 pot, and the guy on my left goes all in for $340. Everybody else folds, I think about it for a second, not very long at all, really, and I put the guy on a move. I call. He says “fuck”, and turns over just the Aclubs. No club on the river (and my set doesn’t turn into a boat, but it doesn’t need to), and now I have $1600 in front of me.

I’m tempted to cash out right there, but I figure it’s kinda in bad form, so I just decide to fold every hand for a half hour.

I don’t really achieve that goal, but I only get into one more real hand, and I limp a couple of times, and I make it 6:00 AM with $1504 in front of me. I tip the floor person the $4, and I cash out up $400 for the session, up $1100 for the day.

And I am fucking relieved. So damn glad I didn’t leave when I started to. A $1300 turnaround in 3.5 hours.



12.06.05 For The Sake Of The Song

NP: "For The Sake Of The Song" – Townes Van Zandt
NP: "Be Here To Love Me" – Townes Van Zandt
NR: The New Yorker. I’m, once again, three and a half issues behind.



Ah, online poker. Low limit games. I tell myself I won’t play anything crazy. Put $50 onto Paradise Poker. Play $1/$2 limit. Win $20. Win $20 again the next day. Win $30 the next day. Then I decide to play $2/$4 limit. Break even first session. Win $80 the next session. Up $10 the next. So… $50 turns into $200.

So, you know… let’s play $3/$6. Of course, I log on, play like 5 hands, and am already down $80. Damn. Then my router goes crazy and I keep getting disconnected and I lose like $12 getting disconnected and posting and getting timed out. Annoying.

Then I play tight. And I wait, and I wait, and I wait. Get AA. Finally. Flop comes K 9 4. Check to me, I bet, next guy calls, first guy raises, I make it three bets, next guy calls, first guy caps it, I call, next guy calls. Next card is the A hearts. I feel very good. First guy bets, I raise, next guy hesitates. He calls the two bets. First guy calls. I put first guy on a set of 9s or 4s. I’m worried about last guy having a heart draw. Last card, a heart. Doesn’t pair the board. First guy checks, I bet, last guy raises, first guy calls (now I’m positive he has a set, so I have to overcall), and sure enough the last guy turns over KQ hearts. A heartbreaker. And like $118 in the pot.

Five hands later, I limp with Q5clubs on the button. One of the blinds raises, then somebody else raises in early position. I say fuck it, and call for three bets. The flop comes 3 Q 5. Two diamonds. First guy checks, next guy bets, one fold, I raise, first guy calls, other guy calls. The turn comes J diamonds. I’m not too worried about the diamonds, as I put the other guy on an overpair. He bets out, I raise him again, other guy folds, he calls. River comes… another diamond. I don’t even remember which one. He checks, I of course check, and he turns over AA, with the Adiamonds, for the four-flush. Another $80 pot.

And now I’m down $160 for my $3/$6 session, and have $37 in my account. $13 less than what I started with a week ago, after seven hours getting it to $200, knocking it all out in just 2.5 hours. I thought for sure I was getting even with either of those hands. Would have been up if both had held up.

Oh, well.

-------

Saw “Be Here To Love Me” over the weekend. Lovely documentary of Townes Van Zandt by Margaret Brown, longtime friend. She’s been working on this movie for a good four years, and in that time I’ve developed quite a bit of a fascination with her subject-matter. I finally decided to pick up some of the Townes albums in Austin last year on my drive from LA to NYC. I remember listening to “Flying Shoes” on the overnight drive from Austin to New Orleans, looking forward to breakfast at 9 AM in the French Quarter. Listened to “For The Sake Of The Song” between New Orleans and Memphis.

I could never really comprehend how somebody like Tim Buckley could have such a cult surrounding them (and rightly so, don’t get me wrong), and Townes could be almost completely unknown, especially in the indie rock world. I guess it makes sense, in a way. When Willie Nelson is less known for his masterpiece “Phases and Stages” than almost anything else in his oeuvre and isn’t really recognized as the guitar-god that he is, nothing else should be surprising.

But I really hope this film can help bring some people around to the stark sad beauty of Townes.

-------

So, I walk into the market on St. Marks the other day. I look at the beer selection, just out of habit. I walk away. I actually say to myself, "Why do I even look at the fancy beer selection?" And then I realize, oh, right - Tusker. I'm looking for Tusker Beer from Kenya. I go back to the fancy beers. And there it is, on the shelf. I can't really believe my eyes. I've been looking for this damn beer in the USA ever since coming back from Kenya five years ago. Was not-too-long-ago completely dismayed to a) realize I was in Louisville near a Kenyan restaurant that stocks Tusker but didn't get to go because it was already closed and b) that one of the only other menus I could find it on was at the Kenyan restaurant at Epcot Center at Disney World. And here it is, right in front of my face. I buy three bottles. Pictured at left is my first bottle of Tusker. Pictured here is my first bottle of Tusker, at Nairobi airport at 9:30 AM a lifetime ago.

I'm still in shock. I can't believe it was on the shelf. I can't believe Union Beer outta Brooklyn carries Tusker. I can't wait to buy a case. Oh, yeah: I did pop a bottle open the other night. It was good.

-------

So, here's the other creepy amazing thing. So... some song that came on reminded me, somewhat, of "Dolphins". It's a song I know from Billy Bragg, it's on the "Don't Try This At Home" album. I think of it, because I'm reminded of the version I heard of it by Eddi Reader at Fuji Rock Fest. It was early in the morning, and I was confused when I heard it. It took me a while to realize that the woman singing was the former lead singer of Fairground Attraction. So, I'm reminded of all of this just over the weekend, and I decide to look it up. Turns out Billy Bragg didn't write it, nor did Tim Buckley (amazing how this is all tying together, isn't it?), but was written by a Fred Neill in the late 1960's. I wasn't familiar with any of the other versions, but did grab the Tim Buckley version and realized that I think I had heard it before.

When standing in line at the St. Mark's Market with the Tusker in hand, guess what was playing in the in-store PA speakers. Yep. A version of "Dolphins".

-------

And then yesterday, a visit to Stereogum yields a post about Beth Orton. And one of the mp3's it includes is, yes, her cover of "Dolphins". Too fucking weird.



12.05.05 Eridanos Press

NP: new Strokes album.
NR: nothing at the moment.



The only place you can find it on the web (that I know of), the complete list of all titles published by Eridanos Press:

1 Robert Musil Posthumous Papers of a Living Author
2 Ryunosuke Akutagawa Hell Screen, Cogwheels, A Fool's Life
3 Alberto Savinio Childhood of Nivasio Dolcemare
4 Luigi Pirnadello The Late Mattia Pascal
5 Michel Leiris Nights as Day, Days as Night
6 Heimito von Doderer The Waterfalls of Slunj
7 Gesualdo Bufalino The Plague-Sower
8 Virgilio Pinera Cold Tales
9 Pierre Klossowski The Baphomet
10 Giuseppe Pontiggia The Invisible Player
11 Alexander Lernet-Holenia Baron Bagge, Count Luna
12 Alexander Lernet-Holenia The Resurrection of Maltravers
13 Juan Garcia Ponce Encounters
14 Tommaso Landolfi An Autumn Story
15 Raymond Radiguet Count d'Orgel's Ball
16 Virgilio Pinera Rene's Flesh
17 Cesare Pavese Dialogs With Leuco
18 Luigi Pirandello One, No One, and One Hundred Thousand
19 Pierre Klossowski Diana at Her Bath, The Women of Rome
20 Yury Tynyanov Lieutenant Kije, Young Vitushishnikov

There are approximately eight titles in "The Eridanos Library" that are not published by Eridanos Press, but by Marsilio Publishers (who also seem to have picked up most of the early titles from Eridanos Press), and perhaps one more book (originally labelled #17, and later identified as #21) published by Eridanos Press, but I don't think it actually exists.



12.02.05 Atlantic City

NP: "Bonne Chance (Good Luck)" – Monsieur Mo Rio. I don't know why nobody seems to know Monsieur Mo Rio. Maybe twee and lo-fi are dead, or something, but this new record is charming and fun. This is the title track.
NR: "Baudalino" - Umberto Eco. Still trying to finish this one off. I don't think I like it very much, and with nine new Eridanos Library titles and 2 New Yorkers still unread, I'm kinda having to make myself try to get through this.



Wanna buy Ace Bar? Crazy.





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