13 August

28 Things you may not know about me….

1. I used to have a stuffed Snoopy when I was 11 – I called him ‘Mate’ and he talked with a cockney accent.
2. I believed in Santa Claus ‘til I was 14.
3. The first album I ever got was ‘The Stranger’ by Billy Joel.
4. I’ve never been to England, but I kinda like the Beatles.
5. The first time I’d ever been to Williamsburg was 4 years ago.
6. I actually really love the Beatles.
7. I lived briefly in a rented house with my band at the time – Spire Cranes – directly across the street from Rockland Psychiatric Center, in the summer we left the door open, and the day pass crazies would just wander into our living room.
8. I have an impressive collection of bellbottoms and saddle shoes.
9. When I was 8 years old I puked up New England Clam chowder I ate at Dunkin’ Donuts and to this day I still hate both New England Clam chowder and Dunkin’ Donuts.
10. I went to the YMCA every night with my father when he got home from work, from 1980-1982, then we stopped going because of the AIDS.
11. I think the best hot dog in NYC is the 72nd Street Gray’s Papaya.
12. I’m a registered democrat.
13. This might be the first year I don’t vote in a presidential election.
14. I hate people that list Pabst Blue Ribbon as their favorite beer.
15. I hate people that like things ‘ironically’.
16. I hate people.
17. At the beginning of the summer of my 16th year, I was 4 foot 11 inches tall and 196 pounds, by the winter I was 5 foot 7 and 118 pounds.
18. I didn’t stop growing until I was 22 years old where I topped out at 6 foot tall.
19. I had no real facial hair until I was 22.
20. In the 4th grade I had a huge crush on Jill Bloom, one time on the line for the bus she spoke to me!! – to ask me if Luke Freeley still liked her. I can still feel that pain.
21. Jill Bloom is a cunt.
22. Secretly I still think I’m gonna make my mark.
23. For one year in college every day I’d steal a pack of tic-tacs off the lunch line.
24. I hate tic tacs – always have.
25. Women with big tits and hairy arm pits are really angels from heaven sent down here to steal all my cheese.
26. I believe porn, the lottery, and religion are all the same thing.
27. I’ve read all the Hardy Boy books.
28. That doesn’t make me a queer.

 

11 August

A few moments of peace...

This past weekend was uncharacteristically filled with activity.

Friday the mudflapper and I went downtown to see my friend's Pink Floyd cover band 'Us and Not Them' at Ace of Clubs on Great Jones Street. This place used to be called 'Under Acme' -as it's beneath Acme restaurant – and it's a place I myself have played many a time back in the 90s. I'll always associate it with this gig I played there back in 1994 when in the middle of the proceedings, the whole O.J., white bronco on the freeway broke out on the TV. The singer from the band that was on at the time kept yelling – 'RUN, OJ RUN!'.

Jeezus… might as well be a million years ago.

Before Us and Not Them took the stage, there was this other Zeppelin cover band called 'Led Blimpies'. I have to say, both bands were pretty decent. I've seen a few different Zep and Floyd cover bands in my time, and I'd rank these two amongst the best I've seen. That's not to say they were 'dead on', but both were exceedingly competent, and put on a good show. Cover bands in general leave me pretty cold, but for Zeppelin and Floyd, they seem to work sometimes. For instance, I fucking HATE Beatles cover bands, even if they're technically good. I just don't see any point whatsoever in a Beatles cover band. Their music to me just doesn't seem to conducive to that whole cover band gestalt.

Saturday was just one of those unique days where the clouds lift, and you're struck with an unexpected lucidity. One of those days that you remember, and moreover, you understand that you will remember it as it's happening. Unfortunately, all this clarity is heartbreakingly temporary, and soon the anxiety, self-doubt, and meaninglessness of it all starts to seep back into you consciousness, polluting your soul with it's toxic sludge. Still, it was beautiful while it lasted.

For a few precious moments I felt at peace.

 

 

8 August

The Last Police Concert Ever.

I went to see the Police last night at Madison Square Garden. It was their supposed FINAL concert ever. Normally I could never be induced to seeing any sort of live music – even an event of this 'historic' nature – but my brother got tickets, so I said, 'what the fuck' and came along.

The opening act was the B-52s who were pretty lame. I didn't recognize any of their songs other than their 3 hits – 'Roam', 'Love shack' and 'Rock Lobster'. The crowd response to them was pretty muted, and I found them tiresome. What's the deal with Fred Schneider anyway? He serves no purpose other than to be annoying. In fact, I feel his greatest accomplishment in life has been to become a 'qualifier' when one needs to describe an irritating asshole who serves no purpose, as is…'Oh yeah, that guy is the FRED SCHNEIDER of…so and so..'.

The Police took the stage and opened with 'Sunshine of your love' by Creem, and then proceeded to plow through about 15 of their mega hits. Sting's voice sounded great, and Andy and Stewart were definitely 'on' as well. It was amazing to think how difficult it is to have even ONE hit, and Sting's had like 2 million, especially if you include all his solo stuff. What's even more fascinating about all of that is, although I really LIKE the Police – especially when I was a kid – I don't think I ever LOVED them. It's strange, because they definitely deserve adoration. I mean, jesus it's all there – cool vibe, TERRIFIC songs, incredible musicianship.. why then have I always considered them semi-lightweight?

At the end of the show, Sting went backstage and had his beard shaved by a couple of blonde bimbos which was pretty entertaining. They showed it all going on some big jumbo screen. I don't know if it's just my weary state of mind, a general sense of 'over-ness' when it comes to the totality of everything, but I felt it was all a bit tired. I could swear that the crowd was a bit tired as well, as although their response was generally enthusiastic, it wasn't THAT enthusiastic. I mean, this was their LAST show – supposedly – and everyone just seemed…limp. Could this perception be my own shit colored glasses speaking, or is it something more significant?

Anyway, after the shave Sting and the guys came back on and played a few more songs and said their goodbyes. The final end note was this bizarre opera troop that came on and sang a few bars of Mozart – I think it was – and then the last notes of Warner Brothers 'Silly Symphonies' blared through the speakers punctuated by Porky's  'Th-th-th-that's all folks!'. I found it a bit of a disturbing, and somewhat callous final note, but whatever.

It took us about a half hour to exit the place due to the crowd, and as we hit the streets I felt a bit peckish. Ans suggested White Castle, which I readily agreed with. We ordered some burgs and chicken rings, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. Of course as no moment can ever be completely stress-free, some weirdo homeless dude came in and bothered my brother, asking him to give him some food. That ruined my brother's appetite, but not mine. It was all fresh and hot, and delicious, and I wasn't about to let anyone rain on that parade.

On the drive home I felt down. I remember being a kid when the Police were the biggest band in the world. They were the biggest amongst HUGE artists of redonkulous talents. I mean, I didn't really appreciate them back then, but Prince, U2, Springsteen, etc.. these were powerhouses. As our cab passed Bryant Park I noticed it was literally JAM packed with young girls – completely filled to capacity. I rolled down the window and yelled out, 'What's this for?' about a dozen coltish voices whinnied back – 'THE JONAS BROTHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!'

I'm officially old, and the world just keeps crashing down around my ears. Everything's just become one prolonged hi pitched signal, the kind that used to come on TV late at night, after the last few notes of the national anthem buzzed about your drowsy brain.

 

 

24 July

I'm SO there!

I've been on vacation these past weeks, spending most of my time upstate with my parents. It's been great to re-connect with them, and drive around looking for adventures.

You get to a certain age, and you truly understand the meaning of family. To spend time with people that are the most like you, that understand you and accept you for who you are, that's something you need to cherish. Make the memories, as that's all you take away with you in the end.

While I was up there, I saw 'I'm Not There' that Todd Haynes movie about Dylan.

Now, both Hermit and Brant Miles hated it, but I have to say – I dug it!

I mean, it was definitely non-linear and parts of it were a bit oblique, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact it was the non-linear format that I enjoyed the most. I thought the acting was generally top notch, in particular Cate Blanchett who was brilliant. She really got the '66 Dylan to a T. The fact that the movie was filled with Dylan's music added to the experience, and parts of it were genuinely moving. I'm a pretty harsh critic, but this movie won me over.

I recommend it highly.

 

18 July

There are many things I used to like.

Fish and chips, anal sex, gray's papaya, vodka tonics, rohmer movies, doc martens, Hal Hartley, diesel jeans, welch's grape soda, clark bars, corn fritters, the Atari 2600, woody allen, the beatles, road trips, playing music, central park, the apple 2e, prank phone calls, girls with short hair, paddle boats, high top Reeboks, women on top, reading books, staying up all night…

I don't partake in any of these things anymore.

This leads to the question, 'What do I like now?'

......Frozen margaritas.

Maryanne's downtown on 5th street makes a good one. I usually can finish a large one, followed by a small. Like an old whore at a gang bang.

A tequila drunk numbs your whole body from head to toe, like a shot of novacaine in your soul. Wine goes straight to your head, makes you spinny and more prone to puking. Scotch is lights out, but sometimes you wake up too early in dire need of a hurl. Beer is for fat girls and hipster douchebags. Tequila's the best drunk there is.

Sometimes I like to lie down on the floor.

I enjoy the hard unforgiving nature of it, pressing into my back angrily. I stare up at the ceiling a mile up and don't think about anything in particular. They say in case of fire, you should crawl on the floor to the nearest exit. I'd probably just lie there. I always liked the sound of the words 'mop and glo' and 'murphy's oil soap'.

I wish I was a floor, then I wouldn't mind so much if people walked all over me - it would be my job.

If we're supposed to let sleeping dogs lie, what are we supposed to do with sleeping cats? Are we supposed to wake them up? Rouse them harshly from their delicious slumber? That doesn't seem quite fair. Especially since cats seem to really enjoy their rest - all curled up, paws in front of their little faces. They're so cute they make me wanna vomit. Fuck it, wake em' up. If I'm up, why should they get off living this life too?

I'm thirsty and want a frozen margarita, but it's still too early. I have to wait 'til later to satisfy my thirst.

I'll have to wait 'til later to get numb.

 

14 July

Man without a plan..

Well, my first week off is in the books - just three more to go.

I spent most of it upstate with my parents, driving around, drinking coffee, and searching for interesting places to dine. So far, we've been to:

Rutt's Hut in Clifton, NJ - famous deep fried hot dogs, as seen on 'A Hot Dog Program' PBS
The Everready Diner in Hyde Park, NY - As seen on Diners, Drive - ins and Dives
White Mana in Hackensack, NJ - As seen on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives
Five Guys - famous for their french fries, twice fried in peanut oil

The best of the bunch was definitely Rutt's Hut. Maybe it's because I'm a big hot dog guy, or perhaps it might have been the exquisitely low-brow ambiance, but I'd give that an a solid 8.5. The worst was White Mana by far. After one bite of their cremated burger, I knew I was in trouble. Instant heartburn. Mine was a cheeseburger, and it was so overcooked, that the cheese liquified. I felt sick for the rest of the time I was up at my parents.

I'm not usually a big eater at all, but my parents are pros. I have to fight to keep up with their herculean appetites. After White Mana, I felt handicapped. It just would not settle down in to the deep recesses of my lower intestine. This made it impossible for me to fully enjoy our continued search for sustenance. The drives we took were fun, even if I felt like I had an Edward G. Robinson sized hunk of concrete in my stomach - that's a 'Double Indemnity' reference by the way.

One big disappointment for me came on our excursion to Hyde Park to the Everready diner. The eating wasn't half bad actually, nice fluffy pancakes, decent coffee, etc.. The thing was, while we were up there, I realized that not very far away was this OTHER diner I'd been to about 10 years prior that was the best I'd ever been to. After we finished at the Eveready, I suggested we continue driving on, to see if this was just a figment of my imagination. Lo and behold, about 20 minutes or so up the road we found it!! The Historic Diner in Annendale, NY. Unfortunately, we were so stuffed we couldn't eat another bite. Still, it was nice to see that it actually did exist, and I hadn't made it up.

Aside from all the gastronomics, I also sat in with my friend's band in Nyack, at some small local bar. While I was there, I realized that I had played this club about 18 years ago, which made me feel a bit ancient. It felt good though, to play. It's funny, all those years of playing and practicing, it all comes back so quickly. Pure muscle memory. It made me want to play again. I would too, if I could find some kind of 'blues night' or something where I could just plug in my bass and play.

Three more weeks left, and I have nothing planned whatsoever. That's ok, I'm a man without a plan. Very existential.

 

 

8 July

Beginning of the beginning of the end of the beginning..

I have white pubic hair. Is this the official beginning of the end?

I started off with one abhorrent stray, and now I can see a few more undesirables popping up in the neighborhood. Now I'm wondering how long it will take before my stuff looks like Santa Claus. Still, a lot of women happen to like a touch of distinguished gray in the hair… I'm not sure, does that count for balls too?

I can remember clearly the time I noticed my first gray hair. It was after a particularly turbulent flight to Chicago while on tour. When we landed, I made a b-line to the airport restroom to take a tremendous dump. When I finished, I went to wash my hands, and splash some water on my face when I saw it clear as day. A lone, beautiful, silvery strand glistening elegantly amongst my raven locks. The panic of the flight must've turned it.

I wonder what startled my balls so much that they're turning gray.

Whatever the reason, it's pretty disconcerting. I mean, first my tooth breaks, now my balls are turning grey, what's next? I shudder to think the list of imminent decrepitude that awaits me. I'm shifting into a state of entropy that is progressing geometrically.

My rod still works thank god.

I think that's because I never used it that much. For a guy my age, my number of sexual conquests is pretty low. I think that's served me in good staid. I think when you've fucked too much in your life, it tends to age you prematurely. You get that leathery look, as if your skins been marinated in pussy juice in an old wooden cask for years. My skin is fresh and pliable, smooth and silky like a nice piece of veal. Still… I do see the lines in my face deepening. It's funny how they call them 'laugh lines' I've done precious little laughing in my life – especially these past years. I've got the lines though.

Ahh fuck it, what are you gonna do? You can't fight city hall. Everyone gets old – even YOU you young whippersnappers reading along. Yes, even YOU will get old. The trick is to pretend you're not, so everyone else doesn't catch on.

I've got plans for my old age. I want to write a book, learn how to ride a motorcycle, find the world's greatest breakfast sausage… yes, I've got a plan or two. I'm not gonna let it get me down.

Besides.. I still look fucking good.

 

7 July

Baby Book

Over the weekend up at my parent's, I was going through a bunch of stuff in the garage, and I came across my 'Baby book'. It was just this kind of scrap book my mother kept for me and my brother. Anyway, I wrote a bunch of stuff in it from the ages of 9-13. It's pretty fascinating to read it - if not more than a bit on the derpressing side. You definitely can see the roots of all my present day insecurities being firmly planted. Johnny Rottenseed aka LIFE, really did his best. I was a pretty precocious if not completely depressed kid. Totally obsessed with doing well in school and MATH especially, which was totally idiotic as I had no ability at it whatsoever - still don't. Of course as my father had his doctorates in both Math and Nuclear Physics, I felt that I had to be good at it too, and only failed miserably time and time again. Kind of the main theme that would weave it's way in and out of my life...

Anyway, here are my entries… I've transcribed them.
-----------------------------------------

Nov. 9 1980 -

I take the bus now. I'm mature. I "play" piano and guitar. I know it's a stretcher, but c'est la vie. I've set my goals high, I swim and go to the Y. I do paper macher, and I enjoy Billy Joel records - I have all of them. I'm in chorus, probe, and special arts. I'm most interested in books, as I own many and enjoy all of them very much. I'm very interested in cartooning I've made up many different characters, it's interesting to come up with their different personalities. I enjoy seeing the environment every now and again. I take long walks. I enjoy playing games. I HATE school. I adore my family and grandparents.

February 7 1981 -

Hello again. Now I REALLY play the piano and guitar. I'm a really good swimmer. I stink at math, but am excellent at reading. I'm in chorus and have a new cartoon character I made up "SUPER KLUTZ". My brother's excellent at the guitar, we have a band called "The Frenchies". I adore my parents and brother and grandparents, and love my stuffed animals - signing off.

March 28 1981 -

Hello again. I'm getting better at math, but I have to be the best! I may be a perfectionist, but that's the way it goes. My average in reading is 94%, my brother plays the guitar but alas, good things don't last, no more Frenchies. I still draw, but I've devoted this part of my life to school. Valentines Day is coming up, but I don't expect any cards. My goal in life is to be the best in school. I've accomplished half of it, but math is everything. I don't swim anymore, because of a rash (which is no beauty to see). I've a lot to be proud of, I'm two tons overweight, everyone hates me at school, and I'm bad at all sports. My report card to put it bluntly wasn't exactly top notch. On the 1st day of school this year, I thought it would be roses, but it turned out to be weeds. When I play the piano, I think of someone who plays exceptionally well and I close the lid. Over the past two weeks, I've found out that my parents aren't going to always cover for me in school (sound familiar huh?) . Our school may close down, but I'm going to a different school next year anyway, so why do I care what happens to this one? It could burn down for all I care. My brother plays guitar exceptionally (and I mean good) well. Folk tunes are his specialty. As I look back on the past, I see that I've grown plump to thin to plump to FAT. We spent another stimulating day at Caldors today. Perhaps we'll top it off with a delicous dinner at the diner. Have to go now - signing off.

April 21 1981 -

Hello again. Easter came and went, but left it's residue of joy and happiness - BORN FREE!!!!. Ahem. My brother is simultaneously writing in his baby book right now, while he's singing "Pulling Mussels From a Shell'. Ah. Now he's picked up his guitar and playing his new song Mr. Magill. The song consists solely of the line "Mr. Magill loved to cause ill" and a lot of pepto bismal is being circulated whilst heairng it. We have a new group now called Take 3. I'm guitar, piano and background vocals. My brother is guitar, lead vocals and our friend Anthony Limadri plays drums. My FAVORITE group is the Beatles. Signing off.

September 27 1982 -

Hi again. I'm in Gifted and Talented this year again. I just got the White Album and am sitting around listening to it. I am just finished with a play called "The Night of the Psychopath". This year I've really devoted my life to school. This year in school, there are a lot of new and very different classes, rules and features. 1. You need a hall pass (the place is gigantic) 2. There are STEPS, more than one floor! 3. We have language class 4. Our gym is huge. I'm around 109 pounds 4 foot 6, 29 inch waist. A lot of people I know smoke pot or cigarettes, and I'm keeping my very distant distance from them. Well here's to you kid.

November 23 1982 -

Hello again. I just tried out for Finnians Rainbow, and they wound up giving the lead to a popular kid even though they all knew I was by far the best, Just because I'm fat. I'm going on Weight Watchers tomorrow, I'm 118 pounds, my goal is 94 pounds. I have no friends except for my brother.

1984 (final entry, month unknown) -

Hi again. 1/2 happily and 1/2 unhappily I have to tell you something… I am a teenager. SO far this term, I haven't received any negative progress reports, so that's good new right? All right, I'll admit I have been a big disappointment but I think I've matured enough to know the severity of not doing well in school. I've had many ups and downs, but I've finally reached that number 13. Here is a list of the things I really like to do -

1. Play guitar
2. Listen to Beatles records
3. Draw
4. receive praise from my parents
6. Write
7 Play piano.

Signing off.

 

 

1 July

Sweet Carnage..

Last night on a whim, I decided to rent Rambo - 2008 off of OnDemand. I've never been a particular fan of the initial installments of John Rambo and his adventures - although I did kind of like First Blood as a kid - still, for some reason I had a bug up my ass to watch it. Well, let me tell you something, not only is it the best film of the year hands down, it might be the best film of the decade. Never before have I seen a film with such supremely satisfying carnage. Imagine the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan, and extend to to an hour and a half - that's Rambo 2008. Stallone is incredible. To see him at over 60 years of age run around, and engage in such physicality, it's mind boggling. It really is a testament to the wonders of steroids! The plot - such as it is - is pretty basic, but the action... Jesus, SWEET! I have never been so fully sated as far as blood and guts are concerned. The film just whizzes by at an economical 1:45. It just proves the fact that films need not be 2 hours plus - ESPECIALLY ACTION FILMS!!! There's absolutely no point to it. Just get to the point, and lets see some bodies blown apart as quicly as possible! Seriously, go rent this film now, you won't be disappointed I assure you.

Another film I rented recentloy was 10,000 BC. It was decidedly not horrible, yet ultimately unrewarding. The thing was, I wish I was more knowledgable about the stone age, because I kept wondering if there was any accuracy at all going on as far as what actually WAS in 10,00 BC. For instance, did a giant dinosaur like man eating bird exist? 'Cause that would be fucikng cool. The plot was basic Joseph Campbell, Heroes Journey stuff. It was definitely watchable, but I can't give it a full throttle recommendation.

Today's my second day of vacation, and I don't really feel any of the usual malaise which accompanies my month off. I'm just hapy to have the time off. I was really limping towards the finish line these past few weeks. I'm going to relish the re-charging of my batteries, and not think about work at all.

July is a funny month for me. I'm not a fan really, that's why I take it off - I have no respect for it. July steals the summer away and brings fall around much too soon. Moreover, it harbors the 4th which has horrible memories associated with it for me. Memories of waling down to the village fair in my hometown of Piermont with the ridiculous hope of perhaps meeting a girl, and of course spending the night unnoticed as a ghost, only to walk home - uphill no less - with a belly full of zeppole, alone, dejected, rejected and hopelessly fat. Fuck the 4th of July.

Later this afternoon I'm having a secret meeting with longcipher, we have to figure out how wer'e gonna crack this thing wide open and get beneath the surface. Will let you know if we epiphanize.

 

 

30 June

 

Hand Jives

Last night, me and the mudskipper were watching 'America's Next Foodnetwork Star' - a show I usually catch simply due to the fact that it follows Iron Chef - when Lisa, one of the show's perky contestants appeared on the screen. I happen to think she's pretty cute, sporting a short banged bob, and a constant expression on her face which recalls Zoolander's 'Blue Steel' look - which if you're not familiar with the movie resembles a look one might get if they sucked lemon juice out of a tart snatch.

'Ewww.. What's with her face? She looks like a freak!'

'Really you think so??'

'You don't??'

To be funny, I started making a lascivious face, with my tongue lolling out of my head, drool dripping to and fro.

'EWWWW!! You think she's hot??!!'

I continued on with the expression, this time making some additional motions in the air mimicking the fondling of breasts, and licking of nipples.

'You're DISGUSTING!!'

Still, we both had a good laugh.

Later that night - still in bed and still watching the foodnetwork - 'Ace of Cakes' came on, and when Geof the skinny, bearded best friend of Duff - the show's main guy - came on, the mudskipper started making gestures in the air like she was stroking a large cock and fondling balls!!

'GETOUTTAHERE!!!'

'What?', she asked - continuing to stroke the imaginary rod.

Well I retaliated fondling the phantom breasts and caressing an invisible buttocks, even slipping a finger into a non-existent asshole!

'GROSS!!'

She then proceeded to suck and stroke in the air, giving some prostate stimulation for good measure. We were in tears of laughter as we continued to come up with more outlandish gesticulations.

I started to think how funny it was, that I could never joke around like this with some of the other people I've been with. I mean even the simple act of admitting you find another person attractive, even if that person is on TV, or someone you'd never meet, well, that can be tricky business in a relationship.

With the mudster, I really don't mind when she jokes around, as everyone she finds attractive usually falls within the same parameters of my own physical aesthetic. If she went on about people that looked nothing like me, well that would be a different story. Believe me, I've had that before...

Some ex-girlfriends described how attractive they've found people, that were the exact opposite in looks to mine. I mean, what the fuck does that mean?? Why the hell are you with ME then? What's worse is when they find people that DO look like you unattractive. Like one ex who after watching 'the pianist' together blathered on at length about how UGLY Adrien Brody was.

Passive aggressive enough?

In the end I think it's a healthy thing to joke around a bit - if you're both secure in your attraction for each other. Of course as I've said before, if there is no 'attraction parity' , there's really NO reason to stay together, it'll only lead to great unhappiness - and endless aggravation.

 

 

27 June

My Endorsement...

This is my last day before vacation, and believe you me it can't come soon enough. 

 

I am wiped out. I feel like I could sleep for a million years. I will say however, it's a bit disconcerting that I have no actual plans for what I'm going to be doing on my time off. I mean, what the hell am I going to do with myself? Usually my brother takes his vacation at the same time, but this year he can't. My girlfriend – the mudskipper- gets off a couple of weeks, so I won't be completely alone the entire time I suppose.

Time alone on vacation on paper sounds like good stuff, but I know all too well , it usually just means hanging around in a café for an hour, walking around like a ghost for a couple more and then going home to sleep for the rest of the day. Still, it beats working that's for sure. I suppose I can use the time wisely and get a lot of stuff done concerning Walrus – art, writing, etc… That would be the productive thing to be sure.

On other fronts, I'm slowly, slowly starting to fall in line with Obama. As the fallout settles down, and everyone's panties slowly start to untwist, I'm beginning to appreciate the guy more and more. I mean, first off, let's be honest, the guy looks like he was called down from central casting as far as what the 'dream president' would look like. Moreover, as far as policy is concerned, McCain is just a nightmare. I'm relieved to hear he finally got the 'bump' and is now 12 points ahead.  

After watching Bush this morning, sputter and dribble about the whole North Korea deal, I embrace Obama even more. America would finally after 8 dark years have someone we could be proud of in the oval office. So as master thespian Charlie Sheen once said…

'Alright Mr. Gekko.. You got me.' 

 

 

25 June

How perfectly goddamned delightful it all is to be sure

I've been particularly down in the dumps these past few days. I always knew I was a prime candidate for an early mid-life crisis. 'Mudpacker' - my girlfriend -  says I should keep this out of my blog, as it just sounds like whining, and bores her to tears.

Nice.

She says I should write about the wonderful adventure that is our relationship, and 'how perfectly goddamned delightful it all is to be sure '*.

Unfortunately I can't do that shit.

It's kind of like when I was in my band, and we were in the recording studio making our album for Arista, Ric Ocasek who was the producer, would pick out the really 'commercial' songs of ours to put on the record, and we'd balk.

'we don't want to wind up on Vh1'

Can you imagine? On the one hand, looking back on that younger self I want to take him by the throat and yell at him for being a clueless moron with absolutely no sense of self-preservation. On the other hand, I appreciate the integrity, I can't help it.

Among other major career gaffes, the Cartoon Network wanted us to write the theme song for their new cartoon at the time - Johnny Bravo. We didn't want to have that association, so we passed. Same thing with the movie 'a very Brady sequel', they wanted to use one of our songs in a major sequence of the film, which we passed on again for the same reason.

The mistakes I made were pretty astounding thinking back on it all. Once I told Guy Oseary – one of the most powerful people in the music business – that I thought Candlebox sucked moosecock. Of course they did, but it just so happened that they were good friends of his.

Then there was the time that me and my brother inadvertently almost got James Diener at Sony records fired. A long story, but it involved us 'speaking out of school' about him to our manager who was good friends with Donny Iner – the head honcho of Sony at the time. Anyway, a few years later, James Diener would go on to form Octone records and sign Maroon 5, and become one of the more powerful players in the business.

What does all of that mean? Well… On the one hand I've made bad decisions, but still… Maroon 5 totally does suck, so did Candlebox, and we were fighting against what we saw as the ruination of the state of music, trying to desperately maintain integrity as musicians and artists. It turns out we were totally dead on as far as that's concerned – the business is dead.

Still, if I had 'played ball', my life very well may have been completely different. Of course, instead of being a miserable wretch, I'd probably be a totally arrogant fuckface.

Which is worse?

What did I mean by all this? Oh yeah.. That I can't be 'commercial' I think is what I meant. I can't write the 'hit' just for the sake of currying favor with a wider audience. Maybe I'm the 'whiner' mudflapper says I am, it would stand to reason, I am after all Generation X – the whining generation.

Still, at least I had the balls to spit in the face of abject commercialism even if it did turn my life into complete shit in the process.

*that quote is from Robert Crumb's older brother Charles.. an even bigger genius than Robert who went crazy and eventually wound up killing himself while living with his mother and a house of cats at the age of 52.

 

 

24 June

100th Post!

Yesterday was my 100th post, but in lieu of the sad news I thought I'd save this post for today... My belated 100th post shuffle.

 

 

 

 

23 June

I'm sick with grief today, the master George Carlin has died.

Usually I'm not the type of person who gets all emotional over 'celebrity death', after all though it might be sad, it really has no effect on my life. With Carlin it's different. He was a shining beacon of truth, one of the few beautiful things I've experienced in my life. He was the funniest man that ever lived. I know it's clichéd as a fan to say 'he felt like part of the family', but he really did to me. I grew up with him, watching him on those HBO specials. His comedic genius was breathtaking. No one could have me on the floor gasping for breath like George Carlin. Still, he wasn't just silly, he was profound and thought provoking, insightful and incite-ful. He was an artist, a bastion of truth in a world filled with mendacity, and his death is inordinately painful to me.

I had another blog I was going to post, but I think I'll just leave it 'til tomorrow…

RIP George, you were a beautiful guy, a shining light, and a never ending source of inspiration….I'll miss you dearly..

 

20 June

Call it Macaroni..

I loved the 80s movie 'The Sure Thing' when I was a kid. I'm not too sure I'd like it now, as over the years I've grown to dislike Daphne Zuniga. I don't like her face, or the way she speaks. So consequently, I don't think I'd like 'The Sure Thing' anymore.

What if you were taking a vacation in some remote area of the world, like Bujumbura, and all of a sudden you saw someone you recognized from work, someone you've seen for years and never spoken to. You don't know them at all, and just from seeing them everyday in the elevator, your impression is that they're a complete asshole.

Would you say hello?

Would the fact that you both find yourselves in some place remote be enough of a reason to make an introduction?

I think the reason I liked 'The Sure Thing' initially is the fact that I've always loved road movies, especially road movies with a romantic bent. 'It Happened One Night' is one of my favorites of all time. Claudette Colbert was a lesbian, and hated Clark Gable, but that doesn't lessen my love for the film. If you think about it, 'The Sure Thing' is really similar to 'It Happened One Night', although I'm not sure whether or not Daphne Zuniga is a lesbian.

Daphne Zuniga.

What a dumb name… ZUNIGA. She was on that piece of shit show 'Melrose Place'. There was that other guy who played Billy – Andrew SHUE. That's a dumb name too. He's the brother of Elizabeth Shue, whom I always thought looked like a big walrus in Karate Kid. She looked like she was gonna eat Ralph Macchio.

'Be STRONG DANIEL.. BE STRONG!!!....or I'll eat you!!!!'

She was also in Woody Allen's 'Deconstructing Harry' playing one of Woody Allen's love interests. That was ridiculous. Woody and his ridiculously unrealistic movie love interests. I'd say the top 5 are:

Julia Roberts
Elizabeth Shue
Helen Hunt
Helena Bonham Carter
Mira Sorvino

'Mighty Aphrodite' totally sucked. I can't believe Mira Sorvino got the oscar for that piece of shit performance. All she did was put on some dumb accent that made her sound like a retarded Minnie Mouse with constipation. The mendacity of this world never ceases to astound me.

I once saw Paul Sorvino walking around NYC. I was around 11 or so, and I was with my mother driving around trying to find a parking spot to go eat at our favorite place 'Broadway Bay'.

I yelled out, 'LOOK PAUL SORVINO!!!'

He heard me and straightened up, and walked with a bit of spring to his step.

Broadway Bay was a lobster place on Broadway. We used to go there on special outings. Funny, at one time I guess I must've really enjoyed lobster. Nowadays, I definitely would not list that as my favorite crustacean. In fact, I'd go as far as to say, I dislike lobster. It thinks too highly of itself.

I'm meeting a friend at 1230 at the diner around the corner from my office. Normally I just have coffee at the local Blimpies, perhaps if I'm really hungry I'll partake in a 'Blimpies Best' on white, with lettuce, onion, sweet pepper, hot pepper, jalapeno pepper, black olive, pickles, salt and pepper. Sometimes I'll even have a small dish of macaroni or potato salad. Not lately though. The last time I had the macaroni salad at Blimpies, it had an odd odor, sort of an odd perfumed odor, like somebody's grandmother had stuck her flabby naked and perfumed ass in my macaroni salad.


Demented Yankee Doodle Grandma ..

'She stuck her anus in my plate and called it macaroni'

 

 

19 June

Joe Matt promo

Hey all.. check out our new YouTube promo on our interview with Joe Matt.

 

 

18 June

Friends

It's kind of funny, for someone as solitary as I am right now, I actually used to have a lot friends in my day. Even in High School, when I was a 'big, fat , Pariah' - not to be confused with Tom Waits' Big, Black, Mariah – I had a lot of friends. We used to call ourselves 'the Geek Squad' and cruise around town in my red corolla Tercel – 'The Geekmobile'. Out of the few friends I have remaining, 2 of them come out of that crowd – intrepid Walrus Comix staff members, Dave Kopperman, and Dave Zapanta. The rest of them kind of faded into the mist of time.

Faded into the mist of time…

I remember some commercial back in the 80s, where Paul McCartney was talking about how hundreds of Beatles songs had been written and never recorded, they'd just 'faded into the mist of time'. It was always such an evocative image. I think it was a commercial for Rolling Stone.

In college, I hung out with a bunch of different people, one of which I still know 'Bubba' whom me and my brother loved dearly. There was also this one kind of 'doppleganger' of me and my brother's called Levy -another cynical Jew who hated the world. We lost touch with him though, which I always regretted, as we probably had more in common with eachother than most people I've known.

We also hung out with a slew of I guess what you would call the hipsters of the day. I liked them well enough, especially a few guys out of that crowd named Damien, Matt, and Will.

Damien was this tall skinny kid with white blonde hair, who had this really dry sense of humor. Girls were always after him, which annoyed me to no end, but I also privately felt like I was part of the 'in crowd' around him. Matt was a good guitarist who had a great wit, and would crack me up to tears. I liked him so much in fact, that I didn't even mind when he started dating this girl Amy who I was completely obsessed with. Will, well he was the one out of the group most like me. A nerdy misfit. Thing was, he had this great big house that he lived in with just his mother, so we'd meet there a lot to hang out.

I like them all, but I always felt a bit the outsider. I think they kind of treated me and my brother a bit like we were these sort of misanthropic weirdos – which of course we were. On top of all that, I didn't take drugs, and they were always dropping acid and shit.

A couple of years later, I'd get signed, tour the country and take on more friends. Different kinds of friends, these of the 'kissing my ass' variety, which was something I certainly wasn't used to. Funny thing about those friends, they all disappeared as fast as they came once I had nothing to offer anymore.

Later on, I'd meet Longcipher, and he was really the last 'friend' friend I'd make – unless you count a trail of ex-girlfriends littered across the world, which I occasionally get an e-mail from once in a blue moon.

I remember my father once telling me when I was a kid, surrounded by comrades, he said, 'Yes, when you're young, you have a lot of friends… when you get older, they all disappear…'

.. faded into the mist of time.

You have to picture him saying that with a French accent.

 

 

17 June

Lost in the Supermarket

I find myself going to the supermarket late at night and wandering the aisles.

There's a distinct brand of melancholy a Supermarket takes on after hours. As I hobble around the aisles my bones creaking with ennui, I find myself looking wistfully at the shelves. Pop tarts, creamed herring, funyons, munchos… At certain periods in my life, I'd been a fan of all these things. Now I'm just an old man before his time, with a pain in his chest like a spear.

As I leave through the automatic door, I pass the wiffle bats, and the bouncy balls all multi colored and swirly and inwardly burst into tears over the official death of any vestige of youth I once had.

Last night I painfully sat through most/too much of Georgia Rule.

I know, I know, I shouldn'ta done it, but I couldn't help mahself. A few thoughts… This is the movie with that much publicized kerfuffle about how Lindsay Lohan was unprofessional, etc… Might I say that although she was undoubtedly putrid, and astoundingly haggard and debauched looking for a 20 year old girl, she was still the BEST thing in this piece of shit. Jane Fonda should be placed on an ice floe and set to sea like the Old Ones of the Inuit. She is horrifying. Dermot Mulroney, or how I like to call him 'Vomitatious ruiner of all celluloid' is typically stinky, and Felicity Huffman? How is she anything? She's got a nose that looks like punched around like an abused husband, she's overwrought, and just an uncomfortable presence overall.

Lindsay Lohan was the only SEMI watchable thing in it. Now THAT'S saying something.

Later that night, I had to watch 'The Conversation' to wash the taste out of my brain. I had a few thoughts watching that too… What was the deal with Cyndi Williams (of Laverne and Shirley fame)? Who did she fuck to have any sort of a career? That annoying voice, those rhumy looking eyes – and I'm just talking about Gene Hackman here…  Seriously, I hate Cyndi Williams. Gene Hackman is always watchable though as is the tremendous John Cazale!

 

 

16 June

Bumpers...

Spent all weekend working on promos for Walrus Comix with 'the mudster' or Mlle. Mud if you prefer. For some reason it wasn't loading up into Youtube, which was causing me more than a tad amount of annoyance and frustration. Eventually, it worked with Firefox – we had been using Safari.

Anyway, our first promo is for the Top 50 90s songs. As people are constantly searching on Youtube for all sorts of things, we figured it would be a good idea to advertise all our features and interviews on there, build our visibility, make us less invisible. The reason we chose the 90s songs first, is due to the apparently ravenous interest folks have for these 'top' lists, and in particular top lists of 90s music. We need to get in on some of that action.

The most fun part was coming up with the 'walrus bumper' that appears before each promo. I think we'll use that as a staple for all these little film ideas I have building in my head. Me and the mudster were mulling over the idea of making Walrus Comix short, short, short features. Basically making animated versions of those photo essays we've done in the past using stop motion photography.

I'm big into ideas, and construction, but I have little patience. I need everything done yesterday. Thing is, working with a Mac has proved to be slow going. All this rendering and shmendering, is so fucking eternal. It's fun to see it through to the end though.

Here's our first Walrus promo…

On other fronts, Tim Russert's passing was deeply saddening. As a news junkie, it's a true loss. Seeing the outpouring of love from all who knew this guy was actually very touching to watch.

I saw his kid on the Today show this morning… Unbelievably poised and mature. You know he's gonna be a big star someday.

 

 

12 June

No "New" Ain't Good News

 

Was thinking how the older you get, the fewer things in life feel new. Now of course, that seems like a pretty obvious thing, but it makes it no less depressing. I guess that's why old people travel – to find some NEW and interesting experience. So what happens if you're not interested in traveling? I suppose you live out the rest of your days in a zombified state, completely dead inside.

Sometimes if I'm lucky, I catch some movie on TCM I've never seen before, and I'm transported for a couple of hours. Still, those moments are few and far between. Feels like my whole life is flipping through channels. Even when I'm not flipping through channels, I'm flipping through channels. I suppose that's my main impetus to blog, to create, to reach out to an audience. In some way, these acts, meaningless as they may be are somehow providing me with the illusion of some sort of purpose. I try to avert my eyes away from the ultimate truth. Societal truths are one thing, and personal truths insomuch as revealing them and examining them, well I'm ok with that as well.. but the ultimate truth.. that's something else.

So I just wait for something good to come one…

Have I ever revealed that I love girls with large breasts with hair under their arms? I have?... just checking. Why aren't there more of those? I've had a few girlfriend's that have grown it out because I asked them to, but it's not the same thing. Women do nice things like that for their men. What would be the equivalent for a guy? Shaving their back? Or their balls?... I'm not taking a razor near my balls for anyone, but I would gladly let my hair grow out.

My vacation is fast approaching. I take all of July off. To me when July 4th rolls around, it already feels like the summer is ending. I hate July 4th. It reminds me of being this fat sweaty adolescent, rutting around the July 4th fair they held in my home town. I never got any action, and had to walk up my near vertical hill alone at the end of the night feeling nothing but fat and alone.

This year I'm going to ignore the 4th of July.

Although they do play that Twilight Zone marathon on the SCiFi channel… Shit, that shit's pretty good. Means I won't have to flip through the channels.

Something good'll be on.

 

10 June

Waaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Last night I rented 'Cloverfield' off OnDemand. Basically this was 'War of the Worlds' – Spielberg version – with C level acting and a cameraman with Parkinson's syndrome. I really can't believe I made it through the whole film without throwing up, as I'm usually pretty sensitive to motion sickness. The concept itself, which was that the film was supposed to have been a VCR tape 'found' in the area that 'once was Central Park' was pretty decent, so I'd give it a few points for trying. Aside from that, unless you enjoy that cheery nauseous feeling, I'd avoid it.

I must say, at the risk of sounding WAA WAA, the heat is wearing on me. It's a REEeeAAAaalLLLll quality of life remover. Add to that the fact that my air conditioner is broken, and I got troubles Bud.

WAA WAAAAA.

When I got home from work last night, I was flipping between CNN and MSNBC, and everyone was of course talking about Clinton and Obama and whether or not Obama could convince the Hillary vote to jump on board with him. They had the usual bunch of clueless analysts on, who so far have been wrong about everything. They were pontificating on such a simplistic level.

'Clinton could go for Senate majority leader'…

'She could be a Supreme court judge'…

Are these people really that stupid? Harry Reid is Senate majority leader, and he's not giving that up anytime soon.. and judge? Since when has she given any indication she was interested in that? These people make me sick they really do. Anyway, they began talking about McCain, and Obama, and I started to think about Bush. How much he's just thrown this country into ruin, and I started to get infuriated. No fucking WAY I would in a million years vote for McCain, and if any dumb asshole has shit for brains enough to vote for him they should be taken out back somewhere and shot in the fucking head.

Presently I don't like Obama, but I'm going to make an attempt to like him… REAL quick. The reason I resented the Obama media push so intensely was that I think he's the weaker candidate as far as his chances against McCain are concerned. The media was pushing the weaker candidate, all for the sake of THEIR interests, not the interests of the country, but THEIR interests… I still think Obama has less of a chance against McCain, and that makes me angry, but even still, if the democrats can't win this fall with America literally crashing down around our ears, then I really think a new party is necessary.

 

9 June

Hot enough for ya?

This weekend was oppressive.

Of course the 100 degree heat was probably a major factor, but lately I've felt weighed down. I rented a car on Saturday to try and escape the heat by maybe heading into the mountains. Me and my traveling companion 'the Mudster' (or 'Mlle. Mud' if you rather) set out north, but I was tired. Aside from this general fatigue, there was this persistent heaviness in my chest that went through to my back, like a geriatric hedgehog with a weight problem had collapsed and fallen backwards onto the downwards staircase of my soul. I tried to put on a smile though for the sake of the Mlle. I mean, I'm not some wet blanket. I play ball.

The traffic was steady, if not completely stop and go, but soon we found ourselves on the Pallisades park heading towards Rockland County. Even with the air conditioning on, I could sense the heat trying to get in through the cracks of the windows, and it made me uneasy. We stopped off in my home village of Piermont for a cup of coffee, as I was beginning to get a headache from the lack of caffeine.

My hometown has turned into this total Yuppie haven loaded with bikers dressed up in their spandex finery. To me they look absurd strutting around like candy colored dipshits, carrying their latte in one hand and their bicycle helmets in the other. We got our coffees and headed over to the river –Hudson- and sat down. Again, it just wasn't an enjoyable outdoor experience, the heat was just too much. There was a woman there swimming in the river with her rotweiller. I remember, I swam in it once, when I was a kid. I cut my foot on a broken beer bottle and that was the last time I swam in the Hudson.

After about 5 minutes, we were nearing sun stroke and went back to our car to continue the journey.

We traveled through Nyack, which the Mudster kept pronouncing N-yak instead of the proper pronounciation NIGH –ack.

That was irritating.

Before you get there, you have to travel down River Road in Grandview, which is pretty ritzy - lots of elaborate homes surrounded by hedges. Actually, this hedge thing is pretty recent, as I don't remember seeing so many. Apparently a traveling hedge salesman had gone knocking door to door, convincing everyone that the only way to keep away the prying eyes of the riff-raff driving through, was to surround the property with this verdant eye sore. They were too, not lustrous at all, just massive green blocky looking things.

Grand View's most famous inhabitant is Toni Morrison, and I pointed out her mansion as we passed by.

I noticed she had no hedges.

We passed quickly through Nyack, up through to Havestraw.

Havestraw, for those of you not in the know has always been, and will always be a total shit hole. Still, there's something comforting in that. All this gentrification, and 'progress', it's all a pain in my ass. Give me a little decay any day. As we passed I gave her the points of interest…

'Yeah Havestraw's where the DMV is…'

Which she replied, ' Is that supposed to mean anything to me?'

We continued on our way, embroigled in some conversation involving her nieces, and how one is the good egg and the other is the bad. All of this talk made me think of omelletes, and how it's very rare to find a quality omellette nowadays. Usually when I get an omellete, it's gonna be spinach. I'm invariably disappointed though.

Past Havestraw is Bear Mountain, and then passed that is Cold Spring, which is where we were headed.

The whole point of this trip was to get away from the city heat, unfortunately the city heat had followed us up into the mountains. It was stifling. I instinctively started to drive faster to try and outrun it. I was beginning to feel a bit panicky.

As we arrived at our destination, my head was throbbing and my chest-al area felt thrombotic. It was like an oven outside… It was more like a broiler actually. In fact I asked the Mlle. If she had ever used a broiler growing up? She didn't know what it was.

'It's that drawer underneath the oven.. you never used that? Your mother never broiled anything?'

'Like what? What would YOU broil?'
'Chicken legs mostly… We would line up the chicken legs all in a row, in the broiler.. the drawer underneath the oven'

I felt like a chicken leg.

We ate at this place called 'The depot'. Chicken wings, ribs and potato skins. If you're passing through the area, I'd recommend the chicken wings, but not much else. We were sitting outside, and I felt like total shit. This was a bust. Should have just stayed home and turned on the air conditioning.

The soda was flat.

After lunch, we went off to check some of the antique shops in the town. Cold Spring is known for their antiques, and bric a brac. As we browsed, I started to feel a little better. All this garbage everywhere, it comforted me. This is where all the clutter that makes up roughly 76% pf your memories goes to die. While I was there, I found this weird comic book called 'Plop'. It was put out by DC, and was obviously an attempt to compete with Mad Magazine. In fact a bunch of artists from Mad, like Wallace Wood and Sergio Aragones had contributed to it. There were a bunch of issues in the box, and I bought 4 for 5 bucks each.

We walked through a couple of other shops, but there wasn't much there. Mudster liked a couple of these 70s looking chairs with Lucite backing, but they were too expensive, so we headed back. I only had the car for 6 hours, and we'd already used up half that time. On the way home we stopped off in Havestraw at this place called 'Hoyers'. It's a soft-serve ice cream place, one that's been there for years. I'd never actually ever stopped there before, as it used to be really sketchy and run-down. I was always a chicken-shit when it came to stuff like that.

I don't care about much anymore, so I stopped.

The ice-cream was decent - custard-ly delicious.

Before we headed back to the city, I made sure to pass by my house and my highschool. I figured she should take a gander at all the notable venues of massive traumatization. After all that, we made it into the city about 25 minutes in advance of the deadline. I was exhausted and crashed for the next few hours in a poisonous sleep. When we awoke, I flipped around the TV and I discovered that 'My Dinner With Andre' was going to be on later that night.

'My Dinner With Andre' is my favorite movie of all time. For years I've tried to get every girl I've ever been with to watch this movie. Not ONE has ever made it through without falling asleep. This movie is like the glass slipper of movies. If I could ever find someone to sit through it without passing out, well maybe she'd be the one.

Mudster made it through to the end. I looked over a couple of times and caught her wearing a bit of a drowsy expression, but she hung in there. Of course, she knew the history behind it, so she could have been making a point to be the first one to sit through it. She said she liked it though.

Man, that's a great fucking movie… Everytime I see it I get chills. The whole last dialogue between Wally and Andre….

ANDRE: Of course there's a problem, because the closer you come, I think, to another human being, the more completely mysterious and unreachable that person becomes. I mean, you know, you have to reach out and you have to go back and forth with them, and you have to relate, and yet you're relating to a ghost or something. I don't know, because we're ghosts, we're phantoms. Who are we? And that's to face--to confront the fact that you're completely alone, and to accept that you're alone is to accept death.

WALLY: You mean, because somehow when you are alone, you're alone with death, I mean, nothing's obstructing your view of it, or something like that.

ANDRE: Right. [Street noise: siren.]

WALLY: You know, if I understood it correctly, I think Heidegger said that if you were to experience your own being to the full you'd be experiencing the decay of that being toward death as a part of your experience.

ANDRE: You know, in the sexual act there's that moment of complete forgetting, which is so incredible. Then in the next moment you start to think about things: work on the play, what you've got to do tomorrow. I don't know if this is true of you, but I think it must be quite common. The world comes in quite fast. Now that again may be because we're afraid to stay in that place of forgetting, because that again is close to death. Like people who are afraid to go to sleep. In other words: you interrelate and you don't know what the next moment will bring, and to not know what the next moment will bring brings you closer to a perception of death!

You see, that's why I think that people have affairs. Well, I mean, you know, in the theater, if you get good reviews, you feel for a moment that you've got your hands on something. You know what I mean? I mean it's a good feeling. But then that feeling goes quite quickly. And once again you don't know quite what you should do next. What'll happen? Well, have an affair and up to a certain point you can really feel that you're on firm ground. You know, there's a sexual conquest to be made, there are different questions: does she enjoy the ears being nibbled, how intensely can you talk about Schopenhauer in some elegant French restaurant. Whatever nonsense it is. It's all, I think, to give you the semblance that there's firm earth.

Well, have a real relationship with a person that goes on for years, that's completely unpredictable. Then you've cut off all your ties to the land and you're sailing into the unknown, into uncharted seas. I mean, you know, people hold on to these images: father, mother, husband, wife, again for the same reason: 'cause they seem to provide some firm ground. But there's no wife there. What does that mean, a wife? A husband? A son? A baby holds your hands and then suddenly there's this huge man lifting you off the ground, and then he's gone. Where's that son?"

Chills…

 

 

6 June

JANICE!!

 

 

A friend of mine sent this link to me, and it totally brought back a horrifying memory. When I was around this poor kid's age, the same exact thing happened to me. I was at Action Park with my parents, brother and a friend of mine called Kumud - this skinny little Indian kid. Anyway, we decided to go on the 'Alpine Sled'… To this day, if I ever hear the words Alpine, or Sled.. or Alpine Sled, I get the shakes.

Me and Kumud shared the double seat, and when the guy came around to put the harness on us, I was too fat for it to fully lock down. The thing was, I was too embarrassed to let anyone know, so I didn't say anything. What happened next was pretty much the same as what this pathetic kid went through. The only difference was, I wasn't yelling. I was just trying to hold on for dear life….

When the ride finally came to an end, I think I'd aged 10 years.

I never went on another roller coaster ever again.

 

 

3 June

GOBAMA '08

Well Barack has done it... The first black candidate ever to lead his party into the fall. I applaud him, as it is a great honor and he's shown himself to be a worthy adversary. Personally, the first WOMAN candidate would have been perhaps and even more symbolic and greater achievement, still there's got to be a loser and today it's Hillary.

I must admit these last couple of weeks have been feeble and anti - climactic. The culmination of which was Bill calling the guy who wrote the Vanity Fair piece on him a 'scumbag' on the Huffington post... a bit unseemly. I mean, I'm sure the guy IS a total scumbag, but Bill is a former PRESIDENT for godsakes. Was just kind of sad.

Anyway, congratulations to all you Obama supporters out there, he ran a great campaign, It was heartily bolstered by a press that slathered all over him since Iowa, nonetheless, it was still well run.

As for me, I'll take a few months off and not think about it. In the fall I'll vote for Obama, as McCain is just not even a possibility. It's not an enthusiastic vote, as I still don't like Obama at all, but I am a Democrat first and foremost - even if I find the party to be only marginally less distasteful than the Republicans.

All these congratulations aside - and don't get me wrong you Obamaphiles deserve a celebration, as it's been a long hard-fought campaign - I would like to add some thoughts that came to me recently about what exactly doesn't sit right with me as far as Obama is concerned, and what he might try and work on, when it will come time to target those out there that might be slightly more right of center than myself...

I was ruminating on it all, and I think I really started to turn off Obama on how he handled the initial Wright scandal. Instead of distancing himself, or resigning – as he eventually would do anyway – he decided to give a speech, to lecture us all on race relations in America. I read the speech, and although it is a decent summation/history lesson of what happened in America vis a vis slavery, and segregation, it really doesn't get to the heart of anything. It felt out of touch to me in some basic way. He claims the reason why white people resent black people is solely due to affirmative action. That's just wrong.There can never be just ONE reason for this tension, and to make it soley based on ECONOMICS, just sort of proves where his head is at. Obama is an intellectual, and an elitist, this is not anything I CAN'T get over. However, he's simply not connecting to half of America.

He threw up the race speech as a way of diverting attention from Reverend Wright, who is a total asshole and whom Obama should have immediately eviscerated. In the end he wound up leaving the church, which by the way sounds like a church full of douchebags.

As I've said, I think it would definitely help Obama's chances if he chose Hillary as VP. If he doesn't, it's going to be a major feat converting all of those disenfranchised women over 45, not to mention all the so called 'blue collar democrats' – which is liberal code for poor white trash.

Moreover, I think he needs to adjust his image a bit. It's worked well with his contingent which was about half of the democratic vote. The other half though… Well.. he looks to them how he looks to me, and that ain't too good...and if you think I'M harsh… wait til the general election begins in earnest!!

Obama's saving Grace is John McCain and the resentment everyone feels for Republicans in general, but he needs to firm up. These last losses to Hillary don't leave a particularly pleasant taste in anyone's mouth. Now's the time to really get to work. I don't know if I'll ever like him, but I'll give most anyone the benefit of the doubt, and I am quite intrigued to see how he fares this fall and even moreso how he'd do as President.
So whoopdeedoo for all of you… Go OBAMA 08'…

 

 

2 June

Types

 

Last Friday night, I went to go look for a new t-shirt at the Urban Outfitters in my neighborhood, and I happened to pass the world premier of Sex and the City, which was playing at a theater on the way. I haven't seen a line like that in a long time. Tons of women, all dressed up like Carrie Bradshaw patiently waiting in line, gabbing away, eyes brimming with expectancy.

I gazed upon them with ambivalence.

I've never gone out with one of these types of women. The Upper East side type, the fast talking career gal, the quirky, sharp as a razor cut-up. The girl who -  'looks just as good in that simple black dress as she does in jeans and a tank top'. I mean, perhaps there were a couple of exes in there who 'aspired' to be that, but they weren't… they were too flawed.
Sunday, on the way to Central Park, I got caught up in some Jewish Parade – I think it was Israel's 60th birthday. Again, I was bombarded by another 'type' of girl that I've never been with. The JAP, the observant Jew… the girl who Woody Allen likes to call 'Jewish with a vengeance'. I'm most certainly a Jew – on both sides – and let me tell you, none of those chicks have ever given me the time of day. They all want the guy in the button down shirt and Khakis that makes money. He doesn't even need to be a Jew, in fact I think they prefer the WASP. Just as long as he's completely generic, safe, and well off. Now, don't get me wrong, I've dated Jewish women before, but they weren't that…not by a long shot.

I woke up this morning and had an epiphany. I've never dated a woman that's been a
'type'.

Types..

Every day you see them walking down the street, the couples that fit together like two peas in a pod. You go to Williamsburg, and there they are, two little hipster dildoes, walking arm and arm, chuckling ironically together about something indubitably douchebaggy.

You go uptown, and you see the tan couples, the guys in their polo shirts tucked neatly into their pressed blue jeans. The women with the long hair, parted stylishly, or perhaps pulled back in a ponytail if they're feeling jaunty. They're drinking apple martinis and talking about their share in Bridgehampton.

Types….

Every woman I've ever been with has been completely unique, atypical, flawed, broken, damaged, alienated, apart, separate. Not one could be described as a 'type'.
Well ok, there was ONE girl I went out with that definitely typified the 'hipster douchebag'. She listened to bands like 'The Decemberists' and all her friends were endlessly working on their 25th Master's degree in some lame area like 'Political commitment in 20th century art'. I can tell you, we did not get on very well. In fact, I'd have to say it was by far the most contentious relationship I've ever been in. I swear, there were times I had really violent thoughts towards her. She felt the same way about me as well. Her famous quote to me was, 'I'd rather stab a sharp stick in my eye than to listen to you for one more second'

That's pretty violent.

Why do I attract the mismatched socks, the awkward, those lacking in social skills, the disaffected? Well obviously it's because that's exactly who the hell I am isn't it? Of course, the sad irony is that I hate myself, so why the hell do I wanna be with another ME? The thing is though, I can love a misfit. Misfits can be loveable, and for the most part they're smart and on occasion very sexy – if you're lucky.

I think the majority of people are brought up to be a specific 'type'. In some way, somewhere down the line, they either chose, or were pushed down a path that led them to their eventual style. In my case, it's easy to figure out why I'm such a square peg. Both my parents were complete characters that were unlike any other parents I've ever known. They gave no direction whatsoever, fought like cats and dogs, were clinically neurotic and on occasion psychotic. However, they also imparted a flood of cultural knowledge into my brain that I carry with me to this day.
Still, I'm no type…

I asked Mlle. Mud why she never became a 'type'. She said that when she was still in school, she could never decide which group she wanted to join. As if she found them all alien on some fundamental level. Her parents were very quiet, and painfully shy, so she never developed proper social skills. As she grew up, she was never able to make those connections most people make, and got lost…discarded from the deck of life.
I think this is why a lot of people find it so hard to commit to a relationship. They're searching for their perfect TYPE, and not the perfect PERSON. I'll admit for years I was the same way, which was simply ridiculous, as I'm not even sure the 'type' of girl I was looking for exists. In the end, every relationship I've been a part of has just been the random coupling of two complete characters fumbling about together aimlessly. Two lost souls, two drifters, two mismatched socks, most certainly not two peas in a pod.
I used to have this girl I knew that would always tell me I'd never find anyone worth having because I was a negative creep, a total slob and I hated myself. Until I changed my ways, I'd always be disappointed. Well, to an extent I suppose that's true. I think lately though, I've become to accept myself more, and even forgive myself for past failures.

When I interviewed Harvey Pekar, I asked him if he was ever embarrassed by anything he wrote about, he said, 'Why? It's not like I've done any great crime.. committed murder or anything like that'. That really struck home with me. I'm not a bad person, I mean, just 'cause I've got some strong opinions about some stuff doesn't make me some TOTAL oddball. Just 'cause I don't fit into some 'type'…

This has freed me up… I feel way more able to enjoy connections, and truly feel – dare I say – love? I'd rather be a couple of mismatched socks than a couple of douchebags that's for sure. I also love the friends I have in my life, the fellow misfires. It's funny that it's taken me this long to figure it all out, as it all seems so obvious. Makes me ponder, if I knew then what I know now, would it have made a difference? Could I have made a go of any of my failed relationships? I guess I'll never know, but it hardly matters. The only thing that matters is stringing together the days that don't completely suck.

One by one -  like candy hearts in a candy necklace...

 

 

30 May

Extraction part II

Well, after having my tooth pulled yesterday morning, I can report that although it was not the most pleasant of experiences, it was decidedly not as horrifying as one might imagine...

I was definitely on the nervous side going in, and when the nurse asked me with a grave face, 'Are you ready for this?' It didn't make me feel any better I can tell you.

The doc sat me down in the chair and shot me a couple of times and left the room. This actually was the most painful part of the whole process, as the first shot went directly into that band of muscle that connects the upper and lower jaws. That was a humdinger. He came back after a few minutes, and started to go about his business. I told him, I didn't feel very numb yet, and he said I would, and if I started to feel pain just to let him know.

The extraction starts by separating the tooth from the it's adjoining brother. This is accomplished by using a drill. I hate drills. I especially hate the thin little mean ones that whine in high pitched tones. I totally felt pain as he was working on the 'separation'. Luckily that didn't last too long tough, and it was on to the next phase.

Once the tooth is accessible it needs to be loosened. For this he used an instrument that looked like a blunt scalpel, with which he proceeded to push at the tooth pretty violently. I definitely felt THAT - a big jolt of pain accompanied by a large crack! This pushing phase lasted for a few minutes, then he picked up an instrument that looked like a socket wrench. I could hear more crunching and grunting – that was coming from the doc – and I could taste blood mixed with Novocain. At that point, he mumbled something I couldn't understand so I said, 'Pardon?' he responded..

'You're doing just fine.. just a couple of more seconds' and just as he said it, the tooth was set free.

Apparently he was surprised at the size of thing, as it didn't appear that big on the x-ray. I asked for the tooth and the nurse washed it off. I was annoyed by this, as I wanted all the blood left on, but I didn't want to make a point of it for fear of making myself out to be some sort of freak.

Anyway, that was it, I was sent on my way with nary an ASPIRIN! He said I'd be fine, and if I felt any discomfort to get some Tylenol. He was right actually, I felt a bit achy as the Novocain started to wear off, but the Tylenol fixed me right up. Right now, I sort of feel like Peggy Lee…

'Is that all there is to pulling teeth?'

All the sturm and drang associated with this procedure. Ok, it's not the most enjoyable experience I'll grant you that, but it was by no stretch the worst thing I've ever been through. In point of fact, in some way, I kind of enjoyed it. Maybe I'm so bored, any new experience to me is enjoyable on some level. Anyway, rest assured anyone out there that needs to have a tooth pulled…

'It's no big deal!!'

By the way, I will have pictures up soon of the tooth… It's really a remarkable looking thing…

On a completely unassociated subject, TWO of my favorite artists of all time have died within a span of a week. Sydney Pollack and Harvey Korman.

Sydney, with his tremendously soulful acting and fantastic films like '3 Days of the Condor' and 'Jeremiah Johnson' to me has a place in the cinematic firmament as one of the all-time greats. Personally, I think he was an even better actor then a director. His presence was so real, and powerful. You can see in Tootsie, he blew the great Dustin Hoffman away, he was by far the best part of that movie.

I actually met Sydney Pollack once. I was walking home from work, and I saw him on the street. I came up to him, gushing about how much I loved his work, and he was gracious and kind. He asked me if I was an actor, and I said no… I always regretted that.

Harvey Korman to me, was by far the funniest part of anything he was ever in. That holds true for the Carol Burnett Show, Blazing Saddle, History of the World.. ANYTHING he was in, he would make you laugh the hardest. His comic timing, and overall silliness was incomparable. I remember watching those Carol Burnett shows as a kid, and in some of the skits, you could see them all cracking up. It seemed so genuine – unlike the smarmy 'hey look at us we're so funny' bullshit on SNL with Horation Sanz and Jimmy Fallon.

They were great artists… Rest in peace my friends…

 

 

28 May

Batteries are running out...

The other day I was thinking about that movie 'My Giant' with Billy Crystal. It truly b

oggles the mind as to how that piece of excrescence got green-lit. In fact, I'd probably have to say that it's the WORST movie ever inflicted upon audiences in the whole history of the cinematic arts. Billy Crystal has made many a stinkburger come to think of it. 'Mr. Saturday Night' might actually be in the top ten worst films of all time. Crystal's got two in the top ten!! God, what a pretentious pile of self-indulgent shit 'Mr. Saturday Night' was. I actually remember going to see it in the movie theater. At the time, Crystal was a top-tier star. That movie knocked him from his perch. He actually never recovered from it – of course making 'My Giant' probably didn't help either.

I'm tired, and have been depressed lately. I usually get depressed around this time of year. I call it my early summer malaise. I go and go all year, and it's at around this point that I just start to collapse. The thing is I never get a chance to re-charge my batteries. Last year I had family responsibilities to attend to which prevented me from taking any time for myself. As per usual, I'll be taking July off for my vacation this year. I have no plans. My mother's birthday lands right in the middle of the month, so I'll be having to work around that. I hear a lot of people are taking 'stay-cations' this year due to the outrageous gas prices... yet another horribly cutesy phrase people have come up with.. We are truly in the era of the horribly cutesy phrases.. might as well call it a gay-cation...

I have some friends at work that are suggesting I fly to some Caribbean Island, and get a tan. I think they're seriously concerned about my aggressively pale appearance. Still, am I going to spend a grand to go the beach? If I wanted to do that, I'd just go to the Jersey shore for decidedly less money.

I'm not crazy about the beach…

There's something about the ocean which insists upon itself. All that force, and macho display… Ok, I get it you're powerful, but must you show off so? Tell the truth, I never really feel 'right' at the beach. First off, I always feel like I'm getting skin cancer – no matter how much SPF -300 I slather on. Actually, I don't burn as improbable as it seems. I tan. Still, it takes effort. I usually have to stay out in the sun for a few days to get a nice golden hue – hence the sensation that I'm cancer-izing my epidermis.

Aside from the skin thing, the people that are 'beachers' creep me out. They all talk in loud voices, and upset my delicate sensibilities. Plus, the half naked bodies of women strewn about fill me with the anger of never being able to fuck any of them. I think that's the greatest anger there is.

Eh… I'll probably wind up staying around the city this year. Laying out on the great lawn of Central Park in my jeans, watching the Yoga couple bend each other into oblivion...

 

 

27 May

Extraction

 

 

22 May

Porno Memories

The other day, I was going through my Video Cassettes, and came across some old porn of mine from the early 90s. It got me all reflective and shit, thinking about youthful days gone by, procuring pornography with my merry band of idiots. Back in those quaint days pre-internet, one would actually have to enter into some mighty dangerous terrain in order to satiate one's sexual perversions. I remember those 'porn runs' all too well. Five or six horny nerds stuffed into a parent's car, driving down the Henry Hudson Parkway with high expectations, evading the homeless windex washers, driving all teen jittery erratic and eventually stopping across from some sleazy sex shop in a pre-Disney Times square.
Once parked, one unlucky fellow was chosen to go make the purchase. This was a lot of pressure, not only because it was a really sketchy area filled with shifty looking men in overcoats, and intimidating thugs, but because the responsibility of choosing something good was placed on your shoulders. After all, these tapes were expensive, and none of us had any money, so a lousy selection would incur the wrath of the entire geek posse.
I had a friend that used to say,' The first rule of porn is that all porn sucks'. I think that's pretty true. I mean, it's just very unusual to watch something that would really rev your engines – especially back in the late 80s and early 90s. Still, we would make our journey, pool our resources, and buy us some porno.

Stepping into one of these sex shoppes was much like diving into an icy cold ocean head first. You held your breath, adrenaline leaking out of your ears, harsh fluorescent lighting exposing your every move and made your way through the aisles avoiding eye contact with all the perverts. Usually you had some suggestions from the troop…

'Christy Canyon!!'

'No… Amber Lynn'

All you knew was time was of the essence.

First off, the longer you stayed in the store, the higher the possibility was of you getting murdered. I could just hear the police explain it all to my parents… Well.. the incident happened at Al's Porno Emporium… We found him stabbed to death with a sharpened dildo.. He was still clutching a copy of Buttman's Big Tit Adventure'

Secondly, you didn't wanna leave your friends out there too long fending off the hoardes of homeless people. So, as quickly as possible you made your choices paid an exorbitant amount to the guy behind the counter - who was invariably Arabic or Russian – and sprinted out of there clinging to your sack of porn for dear life.

The drive back would be high spirited, laughing about the sheer seediness of it all. When we would get to a home conveniently free of parents, we would all crowd around the VCR to review or bounty. Invariably my friend's rule of porn was dead on…

'all porn sucks'

Some would be worse than others, and in those instances we would take pleasure in ranking on the sorry excuse who'd made the selection. The laughs we'd have over all this would ALMOST make it worthwhile.

As soon as we'd watched them all, the haggling would begin as to who'd get first dibs to jerk off to them…

'Well I went in and got it!!'

'Yeah.. but I put the most money in!!'

Eventually all of it would be worked out, and we'd say our goodbyes and finish the rest of the night in privacy to bop our baloneys. It's incredible to think what we put ourselves through just for a little sexual release. Of course it didn't help that we were all socially repressed misfits. I suppose risking our lives to buy a porno tape in Times Square was far less risky than actually asking a girl out…

Those days are gone forever, and nowadays I much prefer actual fucking…

but I still watch porn…

…and it still sucks.

 

 

21 May

V-Spot

Was watching Obama's speech last night, and had to laugh a bit. There was a part where he was lecturing parents about turning off the TV, and giving their kids a book. I thought to myself… 'He does realize this is fucking America right?'. Seriously, if it was any other year, against any other candidate, it would be open and shut – Obama would not have a snowball's chance in hell. Still, against McCain… I dunno. He might just eek it out.

McCain is a nightmare. If anyone buys into his crap, then they've got shit for brains. He'd better cool it with the 'appeasing' crap, and all this militaristic rhetoric. Earth to gimpy, 'No one wants to continue this bullshit war, and we certainly don't want to start another one!!'.. I read recently that insiders say that before he leaves office, Bush is gonna attack Iran. How could that even happen really? What if Obama wins? Then he'd be left to say, 'uh.. whoops? .. sorry that wasn't me'.. This country is a mess..

I love Hill, and she really battled back in the end, but she made a bunch of critical mistakes early on, and she's now lost. Do I believe she's the better candidate? Yes. Do I believe we are more vulnerable for a loss in November with Obama? Yes. Still, what can we do at this point? We're stuck with him. Again, again, again, we are LUCKY to have McCain as a foe. All we need to do is portray him as another Bob Dole, and I think we have him…

Another tip I'd give Obama – use your wife sparingly. She just gives off this totally condescending vibe, that coupled with his cool, bourgeois, elitist stance is really not a good combination as far as winning the swing states over. Personally, I think the pros outweigh the cons as far as making Clinton his running mate. I mean, HELLO, she's won HALF the votes… If you haven't picked it up yet, half the democrats want HER. I think the only way you can APPEASE – to use the republicans favorite word – her followers, is to put her on the bill…

Now's the time to unclench the rectums and start really fighting for the presidency, because it isn't gonna be a cake-walk…

Give her the Veep spot and lets move on.

 

 

20 May

Racin' in the streets

God.. What a bummer about Ted Kennedy. I really feel down about it. I was pissed about him coming out for Obama, and now I feel guilty about it. Without him, there's gonna be a big hole right in the heart of the Democratic party. Plus, the repbublicans are gonna be disenfranchised in a state of enemy. Hope he sticks around as long as possible…

Last night I watched 'Brief Encounter' on TCM.. I had attempted to watch it a few weeks ago, but could only get 20 minutes into it before becoming completely irritated. Well, this time I forced myself to sit through the whole thing, and found myself no less irritated.

The whole plot is about two married Britons that fall in love whilst on their commute, waiting for their train back home. The woman is married to a kind and warm man – if a bit caught up in the mundane. Still, she is instantly attracted to this doctor, and after a mere few weeks of clandestine meetings, they declare their eternal love for each other. This film hits a nerve with me, as it really hits on themes I've discussed in my blogs many times. Such as, can you ever really know your significant other? How do they really feel about you? Where do they go when you're not around? Who do they see? Moreover, on the politics of love, which is better – instant attraction? Or a slow growing fungus? I've always maintained that instant is forever, and fungus dies. This film doesn't really make a definite decision on these matters, as she and the doctor end their tryst and go back to their lives.

I think more than the irritating plot, I was especially aggravated by the actress Celia Johnson. Her grating demeanor, her annoying face.. everything about her. I guess I'm not a Noel Coward fan either, as I found the dialogue and delivery oppressive in it's insistence upon itself.

I've got a question about today's elections… What if Clinton wins both? I heard she's only down by a couple of points in Oregon. Is it of no consequence that she continues to win? I heard Michele Bernard state on Chris Matthews last night that if Clinton was given the nomination, there would be race riots in the streets… Is this the reason why Superdelegates are breaking towards Obama? If these are the types of considerations being made as far as choosing the nominee, then I have to say I'm really disappointed. I thought the main concern was to choose the best possible candidate, not kow-tow to the will of any specific group.

 

19 May

Shuno

I rented Juno off movies onDemand. It was absolutely no surprise whatsoever. I actually had to make it through in two attempts. The first try was last night, where I barely made it through 15 minutes before I felt an aneurysm coming on. The second attempt was this afternoon. I was able to make it through by a lot of fast forwarding.

First off, the main character was about as charming as a scrotum clamp. Ellen Page is quite possibly the most irritating cinematic presence since Chloe Webb's portrayal of Nancy Spungen in Sid and Nancy, the only difference being Nancy was supposed to be irritating.

Secondly the guy that plays her boyfriend, I guess he was in Superbad? Was he supposed to be a geek, cool, geek-cool? I mean what was he trying to portray?

The only character which I actually identified with on any level was of course the 'bad guy'...Jason Batemen. He was the representation of the GenEx slacker who never wanted to grow up, get a job and face reality. In this movie he's demonized for not wanting to have the kid, and developing a crush on Juno who is always at his house flirting with him.

Eh.. grating, irritating, typical, of no surprise.

It's hard not to conflate this movie and it's fans with the whole Obama campaign, but I'm going to try. For my own peace of mind, I'm blocking it all out. I will vote for Obama, and I will support his campaign with blinders on, fingers in ears and me yelling 'MAMAMmaamablaaablaablaaaaHHH' so I can't hear any new splashes in the zeitgeist, because I'm not interested anymore...

Think of me as the old man who won't give you your ball back.

On a more surprising note, I saw 'Sweeney Todd' and was impressed with Depp, Bonham Carter and the direction.. The only thing was, the story and the music were putrid. For years I'd heard of this Sweeney Todd, and was always turned off by it innately. I'd always thought that it was the Angela Lansbury connection, but no, it turns out that it totally blows. I can't remember one fucking single tune from the whole show.

As good as 'the music man' is, that's how AWFUL 'Sweeney Todd' is. It's too bad too, because it turns out that Johnny Depp has a pretty fucking kick ass voice, and Helena Bonham Carter was no slouch either. If they'd been given a better vehicle, like let's say…. Pirates of Penzance? Or maybe… My Fair Lady? It could have been really interesting. Well, one more reason to hate Johnny Depp, looks, coolness, AND he can sing.

So, Obama seems to be getting a bit touchy, proclaiming his wife is off limits! That people best be stepping off. I guess it was ok to lambaste Bill for backing up his wife, but Michelle's completely untouchable. Well alright, as long as the rules are defined. I read somewhere recently, that the more Obama's personality seems to be emerging, the more cringingly similar it is to George W's. The obstinacy, the creepy religious-ness… He's the thinking man's George Bush…

Fingers in ears…blinders…holding my nose…deep breath.

 

 

16 May

Cool Wand

A couple of weeks ago, I broke my lower left wisdom tooth. I went to the dentist, and he ground it down a bit, and filled it, and sent me on my way. Last night while eating some ice cream, I bit down and heard crunch. More of that tooth broke away. As the tooth has been filled, I'm not too worried about exposed nerves for the immediate future, but I suppose I need to go back in soon to get this dealt with. The thing is, I have a 'scaling' scheduled for this coming Wednesday, and I'm getting serious dental fatigue.

To tell the truth, I think this past Tuesday's initial cleaning may have weakened my already weakened tooth, causing it to splinter further into my ice cream. This is all depressing, and a major pain in my rectum. I think I'm going to ignore it all 'til Monday. I've had a long week.

Yesterday, I was reading this great article in Radar by Robert Lanham about the new generation called 'the millenials'. It was so dead on in the description of them as a general entity - their attitudes; ideals ;sense of entitlement etc.. It also illustrated the sharp contrast between their generation and Generation X (my generation). The author really nailed it perfectly and I think it's a MUST read for any GenXer. It really maps out the road to our current state of complete nowhere. I can't really do his article justice by merely talking about, you really need to read it…

I love this little bit at the end:

"Still, it's never been sexy to be a Gen Xer. And that's the problem. Maybe we're responsible for the Spin Doctors, but if you cut through the bullshit, you'll see that we're not merely sexy. We're fucking hot: We were the first bloggers. We created rap music. Silicon Valley. McSweeney's. Indie rock.

And we are the Internet generation. We founded Google. Wikipedia. DailyKos. Gawker. Meet-Up. MySpace. Ebay. YouTube.

We're not slackers. We are Tiger Woods, Snoop Dogg, Parker Posey, Tina Fey, Johnny Depp, Michael Jordan, Dr. Dre and Lance Armstrong, to name a few.

You've earned your retirement, boomers. So rest assured that your babies are in good hands as you go. As a member of the nowhere generation, now come of age, I'm proud to announce that our time has arrived. We may not be the next Greatest Generation, but we're pretty good at calling bullshit..."

Reading this article gave me a bit of a turbo boost in the sense that it's not only me that has been thinking these thoughts on how my Generation has been systematically 'aced out' by both the Baby Boomers and their vile spawn 'the millenials'. These kids are really too much… Self-serving, commercial, anti-cutural-istic whores. I'm glad someone finally has put it all into a coherent diatribe!

 

 

15 May

(Late Edition Catch-22)

When I saw Iron Man, I saw the trailer for the new Adam Sandler movie – 'You don't mess with the Zohan', and I immediately thought, this total douchebag fucking stole the character from 'The Big Lebowski'

I can't begin to express how much I loathe Adam Sandler. This fuck-twat has got to be the luckiest scrotum that ever lived. I remember back when he was on that MTV show 'Remote Control' he and Colin Quinn were these totally Frat boy, douchenozzle, completely unfunny muldoons. Yet unbelievably he's ridden this seemingly endless wave of mega-success. To me this is proof that most people fucking suck.

Adam Sandler is all the proof I need.

Jesus.. Has anyone seen that pile of shit 'Big Daddy'? I defy anyone with an IQ over 40 to watch that excrescence for more than 15 minutes before having an aneurysm… In fact, I would have to say that Adam Sandler goes down in history for having the worst cinematic body of work of all time. Hands down.

Anger Management? Mr. Deeds? Spanglish? I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry?...

I mean, seriously.. This guy should be put on trial for crimes against humanity. What can we do? Someone start up a petition, I'll sign it.

So Edwards endorsed Obama… That disappoints me, even if I'm not surprised. I was an Edwards guy from the start, but he got sidelined from the get-go. In the end, Hill's not gonna get the nomination, no matter what, so this Edwards endorsement doesn't really mean much. Still, it does sting a bit.  This whole campaign has been a major drag. Plays were fumbled, miscalculations ran amok, it's just been a mess. In the end, I don't think the strongest candidate will represent the democratic party, and that's the biggest shame. The only hope – as I've said many times – is McCain. However, I've seen in recent weeks he's been changing his image – distancing himself from Bush on major issues like climate change, and domestic policy. If he can present himself as someone different than Bush, as more of the old 'Maverick' he used to be, then I just don't know…

Obama needs to do one of 2 things. Either pick Hill as his VP, or pick someone like Jim Webb, who's a war hero… If he picks that bore Claire McCaskill because she's a woman, it would be a huge mistake. McCaskill is no fucking Hillary, that's for sure. In a sense, picking McCaskill would be like spitting in the face of all the women that voted for Hillary… 'Here, take her, she's a woman too…' as if gender was all there was to it.

Personally, I think Jim Webb would be the guy to pick.

 

 

14 May

Big ole fat titties...

The area where I take my noon-time repast outside has become overrun by construction workers. For years, I've heard the stories of these uncouth beasts and their salacious cat-calls, and crude remarks, yet I'd never actually seen it up close. Well, I can tell you, this is no myth – these guys DO exist! It's kind of funny to watch, as the area I work is very international, and a lot of diplomats with impeccable manners and reserve float about the streets. So in the midst if this atmosphere to hear little epigrams like..

'AIII MAMI MAMI, COME SIT ON MY CHIMI CHURRO!!'

Well, it is kind of entertaining in a horrible way I guess…

Still, it's a bit nauseating to watch that spectacle. These guys are such goofballs, you can't really take them seriously, yet what they're saying sometimes is pretty raunchy.

'HEY BABY YOU GOT THEM BIG OLD FAT TITTIES… COME HERE AND SIT ON MY FACE YOU CHUNKY MONKEY!!'

And this was a priest they were talking about..

I was watching 2001: a Space Oddyssey last night and it never fails to amaze me. It is a complete masterpiece. Still, the last bit always confuses me. Ok, the Aliens sent out the signal to get people to come, but what was with the whole light show, and what was the deal with the baby at the end?

I'm putting a call out to Kopperman, one of our stalwart reporters, and resident Arthur C Clarke expert… Please enlighten us all.. what the fuck does the end of 2001 mean??

In the end, it's such a beautiful movie, it could be about anything really, I could just sit and watch all the pretty colors…

So Hillary won W. Virginia by ridiculous margins. Well good for her. AT least she's gonna finish this race off with flair. It was funny to watch that foaming at the mouth Bulldog Chris Matthews and gas bag Obama shill Keith Olbermann get so indignant at her speech, where she talked about the pundits 'counting her out'. I love the fact that she never went on Matthews' 'college tour'… She's supposed to help him out with ratings after the guy's been sucking on Obama's dick from day one? I like my gal, she's spunky.

If Obama had any sense whatsoever, he'd offer her the VP slot. If he doesn't, he's just cutting off his schnoz to spite his punim.

 

 

 

13 May

Scaling..

I went in for a teeth cleaning this afternoon. I think the last one I had was pre-9/11. It felt like she rushed the job, just a few scrapes, and then she was done. She said I'd need to come back for a 'scaling' which is a deep cleaning, where they really get below the gums and shit. Personally I like the scraping. In fact, I have to suppress pleasure sounds while I'm in the chair. It's literally like that scene out of 'Little Shop of Horrors'…

'It's your professionalism I respect!!'

Anyway, I made the appointment for next week. Such a pain in the ass. Why can't things ever be done in one shot? On top of everything else, I find out I have to pay a deductible… unrewarding.

Last night I was watching Northern Exposure on DVD. I was struck by the horrible 90s fashions. There was lots of pleated trousers, and heavy thick denim, worn in high waisted styles. Maggie always looked like she had a 'gunt', which is odd because it looked like she had a pretty decent body. God, I don't think there was ever an era more devoid of style than the 90s. The 80s were horrible too, but at least it was a definable style, the 90s was just anti-style.

I can remember wearing just the smelliest, ill-est fitting drek. Everything was 5 sizes too big and accompanied by an old smelly pair of Doc Martens. God listen to me going on, I sound like Austin from Project Runway. The women were just as bad as the men, wearing these heavy shirts, layered in thick sweaters, and jean jackets.. Jesus, no wonder I never got laid, it was too hard to get to their vaginas.

Does NX hold up you may ask? Well…. It was my favorite show for so long, that it still retains a certain level of affection on my part. It is VERY Of it's time though, which I suppose in a sense is very interesting to watch as it's like a time capsule of my dead youth. Some of the characters tend to grate on me now unfortunately. Maggie namely. She totally represents that 90s woman that was this phony, politically correct, un-sexy, ball busting asshole… Women today are so different. Of course I've probably changed as well.

Definitely the Sopranos tops NX for me now. If they'd only lower the price on Season 6, I'd get the whole set!!

 

 

12 May

Zyrtec Coma

The bulk of the weekend was spent in a Zyrtec induced coma. I broke in and out of consciousness all day, tossing back and forth in my bed like a young man kicking morphine in the late 1800s. At some point I managed to gather enough energy to go see Iron Man which was playing right across the street from my apartment. I bought some raisinettes and propped my feet up and tried to remain awake through the entirety of the movie.

Overall it was a pretty decent flick. I enjoyed the SHIELD reference, and the suit was very well done. Robert Downey Jr. was a great Stark, very physical and he brought to the role something which has been mortally lacking in every other Marvel themed theatrical release – humor! I mean, jesus, they finally got that concept? Marvel comics were FUNNY. Especially Spiderman, he was constantly wise-cracking, and sarcastic. The way Tobey Maguire played him was positively funereal.

I thought Gwynneth Paltrow was lame, but still less lame than Krysten Drunkst, or Jessica 'don't call me latina' Alba, or that horrible Kate Bosworth. Watching those muldoons onscreen really shows the true misogyny of Hollywood. They are written with such afterthought it's ridiculous.

Woefully, I don't think there's ever been ONE truly great Superhero film adaptation. Probably the closest would be the original Superman, but even then Margot Kidder was horrible. Christopher Reeves was perfect though.

I saw the trailer for the 'new' Incredible Hulk movie. To me, it seemed to look exactly like the 'old' Incredible Hulk movie. In otherwords, totally lame. First off, why make TWO movies about the LEAST interesting Marvel character there is?? The Hulk was just some retarded green asshole that smashed things. Secondly, if you are going to make a Hulk origin story, use the REAL origin!!.. Bruce Banner got turned into the hulk by saving a kid from a nuclear t