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Monday, October 27, 2003
i read this article in slate about terri schiavo and i felt compelled to find out more about the case, etc. it seems that it sort of strikes right in the middle of so many issues that are close to all of us and invoke some feeling, perhaps of a lurking evil, or an overwhelming tide that is poised to wash over everything we hold sacred. i also feel, as most probably do, confused. on the one hand, people are fearful of the republicans and their propensity to flout the law at every turn in order to see their will made evident. in this case it is jeb bush and the florida legislature trying to block what a guardian claims is his legal right: to decide the fate of his wife who said she wanted to die unassisted if she ever fell into this sort of state. on the other hand, you've got people who are fearful of a legal system and a movement that seeks to end life when it becomes inconvenient. it certainly seems like her husband has a lot to gain by her death. he wants to marry his girlfriend and claim the $750,000 he won in a medical malpractice suit in her name. he's almost like the two live crew of euthenasia. disgusting and perhaps wrongfully intended, but legally unassailable. then i went to her site and watched the videos, which you have to admit are pretty gutwrenching. imagine refusing her food and watching her die for 10-14 days. that speaks a lot louder than legalism. just the same, where are we without the rights of a guardian? you can imagine future cases where people cry out on one side or the other and the legislature stepping in to condemn someone who perhaps isn't acting selfishly. what then? i heard a political commentator recently say that she really wanted to speak up for the party of the confused. more and more, that seems like the party for me.
via geekpress: drinking game for queer eye.
via kyle: lakers about to implode. i don't if implode is the right word. wouldn't shaq's fat have to spew outward?
Saturday, October 25, 2003
rob's brother john and rob and their friend and fellow bon vivant brian are participating in the 48 hour film project in the spring. they've asked me to write the screenplay. i've got two ideas that would probably be flexible enough to incorporate the requisite character, quote, prop. i need to write them up but have been stuck in the mire of revising a short story for class and for program submission in jan. anyways, any short film ideas are welcome. i was thinking bucho needed to do the nashville one.
inside the serra show at the gagosian.
Friday, October 24, 2003
it's my ten year college reunion. and i'm turning 33. they crucified jesus at 33. i'm skipping the reunion in favor of gullett's fall carnival, a halloween party, the andy warhol exhibit, and the wizard of oz musical. these are all things that seem better than going to SING! and trying to remember which frat daddy belongs to which zeta tau. they called me the other night, asking for more money. some sort of pledge drive. i wish i had told them i'd give 'em a hundred bucks if they'd let me go up to the top floor of reuter and accidentally rip the sink off the wall while surfing on it like i did my freshman year. the entire floor flooded and we had a slip and slide. later they told us we were the worst floor in the whole history of su. i had to cough up a hundred bucks to repair the floor. i hope none of those guys are there. i hope they're whizzing in doorways and going to the ballpark and watching the wizard of oz. who needs reunions.
i actually managed to come up with a graffitti shot for jenny. oh, and that's rob's lambretta.
here's my random, daily bread link for the day.
iceman grabs shark to save men
my mom used to read those. the daily bread i mean. i think wild bill did too. they're little pamphlets that had a quote from the bible and then some little lesson or example. it was just a page.
anyway i don't know what to believe anymore. strange myths seem possible or even likely. an iceman grabs a 660 lb. shark with his bare hands and drags it onto land to save his crew. it made me think of that line from punch drunk love. "i have a love in my life. it makes me stronger than anything you can imagine." i wonder who the iceman loves. we always live in two worlds. sometimes we need reminding.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
things i noticed on my trip to nyc
- dolph lundgren isn't that tall. i mean maybe he's got two inches on me. i saw him at la guardia. i was standing outside the restrooms waiting for lonanne. he was wearing purple pants and snake skin boots. i wanted to walk up to him and say "i must break you" but i held back. he looked pretty worn down. like a heroin junkie almost.
- nobody in new york knows what dayquil is. i went to five different bodegas asking for it. DAYQUIL. LIKE NYQUIL. they all looked at me like i was crazy. finally i found an eckard's. god bless eckard's.
- kings county riders rule. that's the name of rob's scooter club. i used to give rob shit about scooters. they're gay, etc. that was before tooling around brooklyn on one. it was really fun, even though death did seem imminant at times. i mean, playing chicken with brooklyn garbage trucks on a scooter? i even got to meet tony, who will let you know he's not from leeds. he's been to leeds though. that's some sort of joke i think. i guess i'm gay now.
- rob's apartment tilts to the left. like the leaning tower. when you wake up, you get so dizzy, you think you're hung over. oh yeah, you are.
- the most popular tagger in manhatten is a guy named neckface. he just puts "neckface" over signs and shit. the funniest one we saw was "neckface loves your mother's bar" with "mother's bar" being the name of the joint. that crazy neckface.
- they don't take credit cards anywhere. everything is cash. or maybe that's just the hookers and drug dealers.
- hipsters can cook. we went to enid's in greenpoint. this is possibly ground zero for hipsters. late breakfast at enid's in greenpoint. greenpoint is like the new williamsburg. or the old wiliamsburg. at any rate, the food was excellent. i had juevos rancheros with bacon. lonanne had a bloody mary.
- people are nicer than you think in new york. they constantly surprise you. we went to the outdoor markets and rob asked nearly everyone if they had a transistor radio. i did too. nobody told us to fuck off. see?
- rob's girlfriend used to be a knife-thrower's assistant. she had a crazy story to tell about it. i was thinking it would make a good story. then she told us a friend of hers wrote a play about it. that asshole.
- art can kill you. we saw richard serra's show at the gagosian. his sculptures usually weigh in the tons. once, during an installation, one of his pieces fell and crushed somebody.
- life's too short. you try to keep your eyes wide open, but it still moves too fast. everything blurs together inside you.
Thursday, October 16, 2003
6-5 baby. hooo hooo hooo hooo. hahahahahahaha. looks like boston lived up to its curse. beautiful.
ok, they stuck his skull in his abdomen???
here we come east coast. i got the ruby's sauce and apparently rob has the bbskew. some sort of bbq at his scooter mechanic shop. scooters! new york! bbq! the foundry! i am making a promise right now. we will get thrown out of jackson pollack's favorite bar.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
easterbrook dissects tarantino
this one's for jenny. or maybe kyle. or maybe prefuse since he's playing tonight and i'm still too sick to go.
from ishkur's guide to electronic music:
IDM:
This is the oddest named genre in the entire world, since it's not easily danceable, it's not certifiably intelligent, and it's arguable as to whether it constitutes as actual music. This is the realm of the uber-pretentious electronic music afficionados, with razor-thin eclectic tastes, who spend most of their waking energy arguing about what IDM is and what IDM isn't. But I guess that depends on what your definition of 'is' is. That's why it's the one genre that doesn't have any kind of cohesive sound. That's also why some of them despise the term "Intelligent Dance Music". So just ignore them. It is fun to listen to, after all.
nicely done site. check out all the classifications. i like the fact that gabber(?) is broken up into sub-categories. happy gabber. gabber house. and my favorite, nu style gabber. oh, and wesley willis is properly defined as casiocore.
we just got thomas a strunal classical guitar. pretty nice. he can now play brother john, are you sleeping? i can sort of play it.
Monday, October 13, 2003
jeez i'm sick. i always catch the gak on the rebound. i guess i'd last a little longer come the plague. anyways, we're rolling nyc style come friday baby. rob picked up a best of village voice and we're gonna hit that shit proper yo.
i don't smile much
'cause ain't nothin' pretty
i got a purple heart
and i never left the city
Sunday, October 12, 2003
this one's for brent:
string cheese incident followers spreading hep A
from the article:
"The illness, which is contagious, can be prevented through good hygiene and sanitation. "
i finally got around to listening to pedro the lion on musicmatch. blu, i'm sorry, but pedro the lion sucks. big time. i listened to seven songs and had to finally turn it off. it doesn't even serve as good background music, which was what i was hoping i could say about it.
conversation with harrison eppright, employee of the austin visitor's bureau, while purchasing tickets for austin duck adventures yesterday:
harrison: i really like your sandals. what are those? adidas?
me: yep. 20 bucks at academy.
harrison: nice, nice. i really like those.
me: cool, thanks.
harrison: i can't wear sandals. my feet aren't what you call presentable.
me: oh yeah?
harrison: (in a whisper) athletes foot.
me: man, i got a fucked up toe. look at that. (pointing to my fucked up toenail...still half-grown and pitiful)
harrison: ouch.
me: yeah.
i always have a lot of shit to blog on sun. mornings. early. our kids get up at 6:30 and i'm usually on my third cup of coffee by now. my brain suddenly kick starts and i remember everything that happened during the week. if jenny hadn't stolen my "things that i noticed this week" concept and turned it into the "rundown" i'd probably give a...summary. (quick side note: i don't like the term rundown. i'm not sure what it is jenny, but i think it's just the trite sort of glib phrasing...i'll have to think more about this, but in the meantime, is there anything else you can come up with? i like your posts, but when i see the word "rundown" i literally wince.)
anyways, last night we watched a flick, all the real girls. it's by the guy who did george washington. it's amateurish and indie and full of long-winded dialogue and the plot goes nowhere. several of the actors aren't even really actors and you can tell. it's basically a fucked-up love story set in a dying southern mill town. there's also a retarded kid in it. my dad would never watch any movie or tv show with a retarded kid in it. he wouldn't even want to talk about it. "awww, now see..." he'd say and shut the tv off. sometimes he wouldn't even let me change the channel. we'd sit there in the dark and stare at the screen for a few seconds. all this to say that i absolutely loved the movie. it's a great big honest mess and it had more heart than any movie i've seen this year. even for it's failings i loved it. there's an odd rhythm to it, almost documentary-like, and the dialogue is so off-kilter, so hit you between the eyes, that most of the time it has this effect of bypassing your brain and going straight to your heart muscle. go rent it. you'll be disappointed, but in a good way.
everything on hold
after much hair pulling, i've decided to push back my application for the mfa program to jan. 15 (for fall 2004). i talked to scott about it. i told him i felt like i was rushing the stories and that they needed more revising. i have to have three. well, two to three. but i want three solid ones. he asked me what's the rush? i have to agree. you don't want to serve up anything less than your best. and yet, and yet...it is also like a twist on that billy crystal line from when harry met sally: when you realize what you want to do for the rest of your life, you want your life to start right now. still i know i can do better and i am living that life. it's lonely and crappy and you don't make any money at it. the art of revising a story is possibly the hardest thing i've ever had to learn. it's hard to explain, but it's almost an act of pure subconscious creative impulse and plodding analytical surgery at the same time. or one and then the other. or something like that. shit i don't know. re-entry back into the world is also difficult. hence the writer as wandering drug abuser. i know, i know. a bazillion books have been written about it. maybe if i get famous, i'll have one too. running with idiots: a ten step approach to living with a writer.
oh, and i'm also looking for another job. i guess i shouldn't say that in case my boss is reading this. actually, he knows. it's his boss's boss that i'm worried about. if you're my boss's boss's boss, then i'm not looking for work. otherwise, i am. web. application programming. java. .net. serving coffee at little city.
Saturday, October 11, 2003
jesus, neil postman died. i was first introduced to him when we had to read amusing ourselves to death in a freshman course at southwestern. i've since read all his books. i don't know what to say. he made me want to learn just from reading him.
we went out with the regulars last night to see mr. sinus theatre perform their inspired riffs on the lost boys, that late eighties treasure. funny stuff. unfortunately, the three vodka sodas prior to the entertainment, left me a littly dizzy and nauseous, as did shumacher's camerawork. or maybe it's the other way around. i have to admit, i liked the lost boys back in high school and thought to myself, now how could these guys come up with enough material on that movie? that's what happens when a) you don't watch tbs movie marathon weekends and b) you don't look at high school photographs of yourself. my mom has this book that she made of my high school years. it's pretty bad. i tried to throw it in the trash once during a move and i think my father-in-law (wild bill) took it out. he told me "son, you don't want to go throwin' that away." i told him i really did, but he had this look on his face that sort of sticks with me even now. don't throw all that shit out. it's who you were. i still can't bear to look at it though. maybe that's what was really happening at the show. i couldn't bear to look. it doesn't matter now. i'll probably throw up if i were to ever watch it again.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
him: i assure you, you're in the top 10% of workers here.
me: top what?
him: 10%
me: how did you come by this information?
him: well, everybody i've talked to says the same things about you.
me: which are?
him: that you're a stellar employee
me: (growing increasingly concerned that he's going to ask me to be a manager) well, hmmm.
him: so, how are you with all this?
me: do i get a raise?
him: well (clearing throat), he he, i'm sure that you will be getting some sort of bonus. the ceo wants to recognize people.
me: a bonus?
him: well, maybe not a monetary bonus, but at the very least, a renewed level of respect.
me: like maybe the top 5%?
Sunday, October 05, 2003
there are so many things wrong about this, but i guess namely the thing that grabs me right off is this: here's another point where parents are abdicating responsibility in favor of someone or something else. why try to build trust when you can monitor your kid 24 hours? why try to read to your kid when the school will take care of that? why not vote in curfews for your town in place of knowing where your kid is. we've given up. all around. you don't think this is going to end up bad? i understand about fear of abduction, but again, they're coming at us with fear. always fear.
get in/get out
they had layoffs up at work. things have gone pretty shithouse. my friend mitch got laid off. they expect us to work 72 hour weeks and are giving everyone shit about it if they don't. so, essentially, they're asking me to give up my family for six 12-hour days out of the week. oh and did i mention without pay? thanks guys. i realized i've been at four different companies that had layoffs. are our kids going to look back at this time and ask us, how did you make it? i honestly don't know sometimes. how do we make it? i guess i just try to take the world as it is, not as i would have it. old neibuhr's prayer seems more apt with every coming day.
Friday, October 03, 2003
rush limbaugh was right.
Rush Limbaugh didn't say Donovan McNabb was a bad quarterback because he is black. He said that the media have overrated McNabb because he is black, and Limbaugh is right. He didn't say anything that he shouldn't have said, and in fact he said things that other commentators should have been saying for some time now. I should have said them myself. I mean, if they didn't hire Rush Limbaugh to say things like this, what they did they hire him for? To talk about the prevent defense?
obviously i'm not a football fanatic and i don't know a damn thing about stats, but i've got mcnabb this season in my fantasy football league and he stinks so far. i just don't get why rush saying this was such a bad thing. well, no, actually, i do get it. but it's wrong.
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