Wednesday, February 28, 2001
Alright, I'm unbelievably busy at the moment, but I can't not share Apocamon. Play Pokemon with the characters from The Book Of Revelations. You have been warned.
(via linkmachinego)
3:39 PM | e-mail |
(via linkmachinego)
3:39 PM | e-mail |
Monday, February 26, 2001
I'd marry her, but she'd probably burn all my CDs, and that would suck. Still.
Now, I would be the last one to underestimate a listener's stupidity, but Byrne went a bit far even for me: half of Talking Heads' songs seem to assume that their audience are Martians. You can try it at home - here's how to write one:
1) Pick a subject. This should be something very mundane. The television, perhaps, or animals. Hey! We'll pick computers.
2) Write about your topic in a simple style. Say nothing that is not obvious. How about - "You can type on computers. Your words appear on screen."
3) HERE IS THE IMPORTANT PART. You now have to turn your kindergarten words into a penetrating reflection of the strangeness of modern life. You do this by singing them in a bug-eyed neurotic voice.
3A) If you don't make the delivery sufficiently nutty you'll have written a Kraftwerk song instead. And that would never do.
3:03 PM | e-mail |
Now, I would be the last one to underestimate a listener's stupidity, but Byrne went a bit far even for me: half of Talking Heads' songs seem to assume that their audience are Martians. You can try it at home - here's how to write one:
1) Pick a subject. This should be something very mundane. The television, perhaps, or animals. Hey! We'll pick computers.
2) Write about your topic in a simple style. Say nothing that is not obvious. How about - "You can type on computers. Your words appear on screen."
3) HERE IS THE IMPORTANT PART. You now have to turn your kindergarten words into a penetrating reflection of the strangeness of modern life. You do this by singing them in a bug-eyed neurotic voice.
3A) If you don't make the delivery sufficiently nutty you'll have written a Kraftwerk song instead. And that would never do.
3:03 PM | e-mail |
Sigh. Britney Spears' menstrual cycle is online. I want to die.
(Happy birthday, Luke! I'd hit up your wishlist but my credit card is a steaming wasteland... love ya anyway.)
2:25 PM | e-mail |
(Happy birthday, Luke! I'd hit up your wishlist but my credit card is a steaming wasteland... love ya anyway.)
2:25 PM | e-mail |
Sunday, February 25, 2001
Sorry about the delay; Blogger went haywire. Sigh.
Former Soul Coughing frontman M. Doughty on music criticism. I have fundamental problems with music crit myself, but I still enjoy writing and reading it, so I'll just shut up now...
(found via -- please kill me now -- Plastic. But it was just the little sidebar at Spin, I swear...)
6:49 PM | e-mail |
Former Soul Coughing frontman M. Doughty on music criticism. I have fundamental problems with music crit myself, but I still enjoy writing and reading it, so I'll just shut up now...
(found via -- please kill me now -- Plastic. But it was just the little sidebar at Spin, I swear...)
6:49 PM | e-mail |
Saturday, February 24, 2001
:::shits self laughing:::
Camp Councilor Jimmy Pippin (Bono) thought the idea of bringing the kids to the ruins of the ancient Indian Burial Grounds for a night would be fun and exciting. Fellow councilor, and certifiable babe, Bunny Heggle (Beyoncee Knowles of Destiny's Child) agreed and so they picked up the camping equipment and brought their charges, two dozen ten and eleven year olds. But before they arrived, they ran into a strange old man (Jesus Christ) who warned them against their trip. They ignored him, and continued their journey. The ancient ruins were exciting, and the kids had a blast, but when night fell, they discovered, all too late, that the strange old man had been correct. For this burial ground was the territory of the legendary monster, The Apoho, which was soon feeding off the brains of the children! Will Jimmy and Bunny be able to save any of their kids, or will the Apoho feast through the entire camp? Find out in the hot new screamer, The Gods Must Be... HUNGRY!!!
9:47 PM | e-mail |
Camp Councilor Jimmy Pippin (Bono) thought the idea of bringing the kids to the ruins of the ancient Indian Burial Grounds for a night would be fun and exciting. Fellow councilor, and certifiable babe, Bunny Heggle (Beyoncee Knowles of Destiny's Child) agreed and so they picked up the camping equipment and brought their charges, two dozen ten and eleven year olds. But before they arrived, they ran into a strange old man (Jesus Christ) who warned them against their trip. They ignored him, and continued their journey. The ancient ruins were exciting, and the kids had a blast, but when night fell, they discovered, all too late, that the strange old man had been correct. For this burial ground was the territory of the legendary monster, The Apoho, which was soon feeding off the brains of the children! Will Jimmy and Bunny be able to save any of their kids, or will the Apoho feast through the entire camp? Find out in the hot new screamer, The Gods Must Be... HUNGRY!!!
9:47 PM | e-mail |
I've finally gotten around to downloading all of the Smashing Pumpkins' guerilla-released last album, MACHINA II / friends and enemies of modern music (You can, too -- follow that link in the sidebar). It's extremely interesting. The first half is all demo material, from the sound of it, and it's mildly intriguing in its roughness, giving you a look into their songwriting process. But I'm midway through the second half now, and it appears to all be finished songs, and most of 'em are damn good. R.I.P., Pumpkins.
And if there is a god
I know she's watching me
She says she likes what she sees
But there's trouble on the breeze...*
8:58 PM | e-mail |
And if there is a god
I know she's watching me
She says she likes what she sees
But there's trouble on the breeze...*
8:58 PM | e-mail |
I'm completely addicted to "Control Freak" on MTV2. I just spent a heated four minutes in pitched battle trying to get Jane's Addiction's "Stop" to win out over the God-awful "Butterfly" by Crazytown... and we won, too. Rawk and roll.
8:02 PM | e-mail |
8:02 PM | e-mail |
Thanks for completing the survey.
Your Femininity Score is 4.
Your Masculinity Score is 4.4.
You are sex-typed in neither direction. You are androgynous.
God dammit...
(via Prolific and Plasticbag)
7:43 PM | e-mail |
Your Femininity Score is 4.
Your Masculinity Score is 4.4.
You are sex-typed in neither direction. You are androgynous.
God dammit...
(via Prolific and Plasticbag)
7:43 PM | e-mail |
I'm sitting here wrapped in a sheet. Just because. I'm too damn lazy to put on warmer clothes, and besides, this feels all homey-like. I'd go get hot chocolate, but that involves going outside, where it is VERY cold, and then we're right back up to the previous point.
And on a lighter note, clowns.
6:45 PM | e-mail |
And on a lighter note, clowns.
6:45 PM | e-mail |
Why, thank you very much. Nice to know the design I just scrapped was nice. ;-) Seriously, thanks for the link, though. Did wonders for my hit-count, which is always reassuring.
If any of you people are coming from there and are wondering what this fabled design of which he spoke looked like, you can see it sans link sidebar on one of my pre-Blogger archive pages.
12:31 AM | e-mail |
If any of you people are coming from there and are wondering what this fabled design of which he spoke looked like, you can see it sans link sidebar on one of my pre-Blogger archive pages.
12:31 AM | e-mail |
Perks Of Living In New York City, #19,765: Finding celebrities' addresses in the files of your menial day job.
I can say no more, but boy, we're having a laugh.
12:18 AM | e-mail |
I can say no more, but boy, we're having a laugh.
12:18 AM | e-mail |
Friday, February 23, 2001
I name Spin.com today's official Bearer Of Good Tidings. Not only do they give us info on the new R.E.M. and Depeche Mode videos, but they *also* have a frontpage feature on PJ Harvey. Rock the hell out.
Speaking of watching cool bands on your "tele-vision," the new U2 DVDs promise to be goooood. I smell birthday money being put to use...
7:02 PM | e-mail |
Speaking of watching cool bands on your "tele-vision," the new U2 DVDs promise to be goooood. I smell birthday money being put to use...
7:02 PM | e-mail |
My new clothes. Love them.
And the announcement, too: I've been obliquely hinting at it for quite some time now, but my newest webpage has finally launched: GLITTERDAMMERUNG! Comics Weblog. It's a new blog, written alongside my friend Ross, which will be spotlighting the best comics links on the Web. Meaning that for those of you who couldn't give a crap about comics, the number of blog entries about 'em in these parts will probably decline. Be thankful, I guess. Of course, I'm sure I'll still be pushing some great stuff down your throat anyway.
Alright, I'd love to stay and blog longer, but I've got a promotional push to embark upon for GLIT! Enjoy the new design, or alternately, tell me how much you hate it. I won't mind.
6:07 PM | e-mail |
And the announcement, too: I've been obliquely hinting at it for quite some time now, but my newest webpage has finally launched: GLITTERDAMMERUNG! Comics Weblog. It's a new blog, written alongside my friend Ross, which will be spotlighting the best comics links on the Web. Meaning that for those of you who couldn't give a crap about comics, the number of blog entries about 'em in these parts will probably decline. Be thankful, I guess. Of course, I'm sure I'll still be pushing some great stuff down your throat anyway.
Alright, I'd love to stay and blog longer, but I've got a promotional push to embark upon for GLIT! Enjoy the new design, or alternately, tell me how much you hate it. I won't mind.
6:07 PM | e-mail |
Told myself I wouldn't blog till the redesign hits, but reading this inspired me.
Ono, the fun gnome.
He-Men? No fog out.
Gun home, not foe.
Gum, foo! Note hen.
The gnu! Eno, mofo!
12:42 AM | e-mail |
Ono, the fun gnome.
He-Men? No fog out.
Gun home, not foe.
Gum, foo! Note hen.
The gnu! Eno, mofo!
12:42 AM | e-mail |
Perhaps you'll want to spend some quality time with my giant hand here, because this afternoon, the new design will go live. I put the finishing touches on it tonight; I'm just waiting to upload it in order to synch it up with the announcement I've got tomorrow...
12:26 AM | e-mail |
12:26 AM | e-mail |
Thursday, February 22, 2001
There are very few things more beautiful than snow at night in the city, before the plows come through. Sky all orange with ambient lights and snow-haze, pavement covered in white... if it wasn't so cold out, I could sit in the park and just look at this for hours.
8:20 PM | e-mail |
8:20 PM | e-mail |
Wednesday, February 21, 2001
Time to 'fess up. The real reason I read so many British weblogs: If I'm having a late night (as I most certainly am tonight -- I don't anticipate sleeping again until 5:00 PM at the earliest), I can pop over to their blogs and watch 'em wake up and make the first posts of the day. Timezone lag is fun. Of course, they have to spend the first half of the day without any pearls of wisdom from their American counterparts, so they're clearly getting the shaft here. But it's not like Americans screwing other countries over is anything new, is it?
5:06 AM | e-mail |
5:06 AM | e-mail |
Whenever I build a webpage, I have this compulsion to just run my fingers over it. I grab the mouse and run along the entire thing, moving over every link to watch it do whatever I told it to do style-wise, scrolling up and down over and over again to take in the whole package. I can't help it; before I even notice what I'm doing, I've been "stroking" the thing for several minutes. It's bizarre.
Why would I mention something like this, you wonder? Has Chris been building webpages? The answer is yes, of course, and you shall see them soon, oh, so soon. Perhaps not tomorrow -- for as you can see, Chris is still up and he has classes and a paper due in less than five hours -- but soon. One sooner than the other. And now all of these little categorical comments are taking away from the mystery and "zing!" of the whole affair, so I'll shut up. Just be patient and New Things will be revealed to you.
4:50 AM | e-mail |
Why would I mention something like this, you wonder? Has Chris been building webpages? The answer is yes, of course, and you shall see them soon, oh, so soon. Perhaps not tomorrow -- for as you can see, Chris is still up and he has classes and a paper due in less than five hours -- but soon. One sooner than the other. And now all of these little categorical comments are taking away from the mystery and "zing!" of the whole affair, so I'll shut up. Just be patient and New Things will be revealed to you.
4:50 AM | e-mail |
I can't stop watching the video for Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds' "As I Sat Sadly By Her Side." I just can't. I need the new album NOW, please. Go hear excerpts from it, and see that full video, at www.nickcave.net.
I've linked this before, but it was just kind of tossed-off, and this obsession has flowered since that original linking. So.
And hey, wanna make my day? Vote for "As I Sat Sadly By Her Side" to be added to the MTV2 playlist.
12:16 AM | e-mail |
I've linked this before, but it was just kind of tossed-off, and this obsession has flowered since that original linking. So.
And hey, wanna make my day? Vote for "As I Sat Sadly By Her Side" to be added to the MTV2 playlist.
12:16 AM | e-mail |
Tuesday, February 20, 2001
Well, if you missed the 60 MINUTES piece (and if you cared), don't cry -- it was pretty weak, practically just a "Bono 101" seminar that painted a really weak picture of him. Only high point was a look inside the studio during the recording of the last album, including some brief snippets of rejected approachs to "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of," and a shot of some unused lyrics...
9:45 PM | e-mail |
9:45 PM | e-mail |
My roommate took a set of excellent pictures of me last night for one of his classes; unfortunately, they're printed as slides at the moment, but I'm gonna try to get them transferred as photos and find a way to scan them in somehow. I really, really like them.
OK, narcissism hour over. Go watch Bono on 60 MINUTES tonight! It's on at 9 PM EST (on CBS), so if you're reading this in the next half hour, you can catch it! Quickly! To your televisions!
8:28 PM | e-mail |
OK, narcissism hour over. Go watch Bono on 60 MINUTES tonight! It's on at 9 PM EST (on CBS), so if you're reading this in the next half hour, you can catch it! Quickly! To your televisions!
8:28 PM | e-mail |
I keep forgetting to link to this: Marie's World Tour. Marie Javins is one of the greats of the comic book world -- as an editor, she's responsible for some really great books, and as a colorist, she's a genius and an inspiration to everyone who's come after her. And now, she's travelling around the world. Without the use of an airplane. Sign up for her exceptionally well-written e-mail updates, and if you send her money to finance her trip, she'll buy you a souvenir. So, so amazing.
Note: She did recently have to take an airplane, one of the three airplane "lifelines" she'd allotted herself. But she did it in order to get out of East Timor without being hacked to death with machetes. So I'd say it's allowable.
6:56 PM | e-mail |
Note: She did recently have to take an airplane, one of the three airplane "lifelines" she'd allotted herself. But she did it in order to get out of East Timor without being hacked to death with machetes. So I'd say it's allowable.
6:56 PM | e-mail |
WinMX, my new MP3-findin' program. NYU firewalls Napster in order to protect themselves from unimaginable bandwith, so I was using Scour until it went bye-bye. WinMX has so far proved less than perfectly reliable, but it's basically still bringing me the goods, and that's dandy.
Found it via Prolific; seems I follow her lead in all things musical. Thanks muchly for the Gavin Friday b-sides, by the way.
6:49 PM | e-mail |
Found it via Prolific; seems I follow her lead in all things musical. Thanks muchly for the Gavin Friday b-sides, by the way.
6:49 PM | e-mail |
This is probably one of the best articles about pop music I have ever read.
Compare and contrast:
I hung out one evening with James McNamara, who is 18 and a senior at Wilde Lake High School and happened to write a college application essay about the sad commercialization of music. He knows there is the pop music that will define his high school days, and then there is what everyone else would call real music. Driving to school, he listens to opera (Puccini) or classical music (Ravel). He plays jazz on the piano, writes his own songs. I sit and listen.
"What's the saddest song?" I ask him. "What would you put on the CD player if you were feeling sad?"
"Hmm," he says. "There's some really evil Mozart. There's opera, they all die." Then he decides on "Kind of Blue" by Miles Davis. "If you're elated, it can sustain the elation, but if you're depressed, it's in there, too. There's so much in every note."
James's mother brings out cookies, hot tea, trophies he's won for music, his portfolio of drawings. There was always music in the house, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, Aaron Copland. One day James began playing jazz riffs on the piano. "My dad says, 'Hey, write a pop song and make a million dollars,' " James says. "Like this?"
Here his hands change; the song he was playing on the piano goes perky. "It hurts me to play it."
That said, he fully expects to hear "Thong Song" at his high school reunion. He would want them to play it.
And:
"Like with the Beatles?" another boy says. "Um, okay, I like the Beatles? Because you can hear what they were trying to do? But they didn't have the technology, sort of, to do it the way they could have done it now? Like the beat is there? But something is kind of missing? I don't know, like it doesn't flow the same?"
This is just a very, very good article.
(found at New York London Paris Munich)
5:04 PM | e-mail |
Compare and contrast:
I hung out one evening with James McNamara, who is 18 and a senior at Wilde Lake High School and happened to write a college application essay about the sad commercialization of music. He knows there is the pop music that will define his high school days, and then there is what everyone else would call real music. Driving to school, he listens to opera (Puccini) or classical music (Ravel). He plays jazz on the piano, writes his own songs. I sit and listen.
"What's the saddest song?" I ask him. "What would you put on the CD player if you were feeling sad?"
"Hmm," he says. "There's some really evil Mozart. There's opera, they all die." Then he decides on "Kind of Blue" by Miles Davis. "If you're elated, it can sustain the elation, but if you're depressed, it's in there, too. There's so much in every note."
James's mother brings out cookies, hot tea, trophies he's won for music, his portfolio of drawings. There was always music in the house, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, Aaron Copland. One day James began playing jazz riffs on the piano. "My dad says, 'Hey, write a pop song and make a million dollars,' " James says. "Like this?"
Here his hands change; the song he was playing on the piano goes perky. "It hurts me to play it."
That said, he fully expects to hear "Thong Song" at his high school reunion. He would want them to play it.
And:
"Like with the Beatles?" another boy says. "Um, okay, I like the Beatles? Because you can hear what they were trying to do? But they didn't have the technology, sort of, to do it the way they could have done it now? Like the beat is there? But something is kind of missing? I don't know, like it doesn't flow the same?"
This is just a very, very good article.
(found at New York London Paris Munich)
5:04 PM | e-mail |
Monday, February 19, 2001
See if you can spot the difference between these two statements: (a) "Those trousers make your backside look fat." (b) "You're a repellently obese old hag upon whom I am compelled to heap insults and derision - depressingly far removed from the 'stupid, squeaky, pocket-sized English women' who make up my vast catalogue of former lovers and to whom I might as well return right now as I hate everything about you." Maybe the acoustics were really bad in the dining room, or something.
A comprehensive list of the things one couple have argued over. Madness.
(via the WEF, which I'm beginning to believe is the greatest weblog on Earth, although it's not a weblog at all)
5:19 PM | e-mail |
A comprehensive list of the things one couple have argued over. Madness.
(via the WEF, which I'm beginning to believe is the greatest weblog on Earth, although it's not a weblog at all)
5:19 PM | e-mail |
Wow. Was just treated to an impromptu whirlwind visit from Kim and two of her friends. Twelve hours of fun, triggered spontaneously. How excellent.
4:40 PM | e-mail |
4:40 PM | e-mail |
Sunday, February 18, 2001
Oh my GOD. The CLERKS Animated Series. Jeremy just got a job at Kim's Video and he rented the collection before it comes out on Tuesday... you MUST. SEE. IT. Highlights: The ending of episode 4. I will say no more. When I saw it, I almost vomited from laughing so hard...
12:20 AM | e-mail |
12:20 AM | e-mail |
Saturday, February 17, 2001
It's oh so funny, and oh so true: The Top Social Trends Of The Next Ten Years. Read it and weep at the genius of these predictions.
(Thank you, Ross)
1:08 AM | e-mail |
(Thank you, Ross)
1:08 AM | e-mail |
It's been a damn good month for poorly made music videos from foreign lands.
(via Metafilter)
And y'know, not to be childish or anything (though I am), but I swear I was the first weblogger with the infamous "Hatt Baby"... 'course, I found it on a message board, so that hardly makes me a grand explorer seeking out life's hidden joys. But it's the principle of the thing.
1:04 AM | e-mail |
(via Metafilter)
And y'know, not to be childish or anything (though I am), but I swear I was the first weblogger with the infamous "Hatt Baby"... 'course, I found it on a message board, so that hardly makes me a grand explorer seeking out life's hidden joys. But it's the principle of the thing.
1:04 AM | e-mail |
Friday, February 16, 2001
Reminder: If you're at home tonight, watch my uncle, Arthur O'Leary, on WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE? at 9 PM EST. He'll be at the end of the episode, and the big stuff goes down on Sunday night (at the same time).
5:56 PM | e-mail |
5:56 PM | e-mail |
Popimage interviews Grant Morrison. Very well. Very, very well. In fact, if you only ever read one Grant Morrison interview, it should probably be this one. I want to be this man so much... you'll be able to tell as soon as you see a picture of him. "... there are a lot more overtly sexual comics and images to look at out there so I don't think people come to me for wank fodder but many of the things I've written reek either of oceanic supersex or at least creeping perversion. Some of the upcoming stuff will leave readers feeling date-raped and soiled forever, I think. Write what you know."
:::suffers love attack:::
(link found on linkmachinego, though I'm sure I'd've found it soon anyway)
1:35 PM | e-mail |
:::suffers love attack:::
(link found on linkmachinego, though I'm sure I'd've found it soon anyway)
1:35 PM | e-mail |
Tuesday, February 13, 2001
...Where to begin.
The last few days have been amongst the most hectic of my life. And the most satisfying.
Friday night, I had dinner with my Writing Workshop class at Eastanah, an awesome little Indonesian/Malaysian place in Soho. The outing was part of the new unit; the theme of our class is "Writing the City" (huzzah for po-mo academic wank! Yippee!), and this unit is about using food to denote culture and place. Interesting enough. Anyway, academia was the last thing on our minds; it was early enough in the semester that we didn't know each other terribly well yet, but still felt totally comfortable chatting amongst ourselves; we'd seen each other in action, as it were, in class, so we were all on comfortable terms. We had a really great time, and the food was terrific. It's hardly an original sentiment, but then, what is: There are very few things better than good food and good company.
Saturday was a sleep-till-the-sun-is-setting kind of day. I hauled myself out of bed at 3 PM and scooped up tickets to HANNIBAL (oh yes, they were going fast in good ol' NYC -- the 1 AM shows were sold out by 4), then killed a couple hours (mainly at Virgin) until the show. I liked it, my roommate didn't. Mainly, he was just too grossed out to enjoy himself; can't blame him for it, but I, "thankfully," am completely desensitized to everything ever, I guess. I just ate it all up, no pun intended. I'll spare you a lengthier review, except to say that it was wonderful Grand Guignol, that Tom's epinion pretty much concurs with my thoughts, and that it'll probably all fall apart for me if I see it again.
On Sunday afternoon, I realized that I'd lost my NYU ID card. Apparently, it had gotten left in a container of food (don't ask) and was thrown away (unwittingly) by my roommate. Without that card I can't access my meal plan -- no free food -- and I can't get to one of my classes, which requires me to swipe the card through a reader to cross a security gate. Whee. It being Sunday, the card office is closed; can't replace it until tomorrow. I go shell out my absolute last $5 for dinner Sunday night, hoping to God I can put the card on credit.
Monday morning: Shuffle off to my first class, leave early to get new card. No credit accepted. SHITE. I am officially flat broke, broker than I have ever been before. Go to second class, skip third as a result of being incapable of getting to it. Buy a muffin for lunch with my only remaining quarters and dimes.
Ah, but then... but then. I shuffle off to the Upper West Side (putting my subway fare on credit) to the ABC studios on 67th Street. You see, my uncle -- Arthur O'Leary, for the record -- has been selected to compete on WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE?, and I'm on the list to sit in the studio audience and see him. I rendezvous with my aunt and my cousin (and her boyfriend), and we settle down to watch everyone's favorite capitalist orgy take place.
Having just been to a DAILY SHOW taping less than a month before, the contrasts between the cable and network realms were marked. Security on MILLIONAIRE was tight; the instructions far more stringent (hold your Ask The Audience clicker-thingy chest-high so the cameras can see it; wear dark clothing; clap quickly; never talk; etc. etc.) then the lackadaisical "Hey, be cool" attitude of DAILY. One thing you will notice about seeing a TV show filmed: The set is much smaller than you ever would have expected. It is also far chintzier. Let me tell you people right now: the set for MILLIONAIRE looks like a pile of crap up close. The chairs are uncomfortable, the audience is small, Regis is *covered* in makeup and the whole affair looks very cobbled-together. There's duct tape on the back of the audience partition, for God's sake.
What happened on the show? Well. All I'm theoretically allowed to say (I didn't sign a non-disclosure agreement or anything, but out of courtesy to the request of the staff -- who, surprisingly, are all super-nice, awesome, uber-professional, and entirely helpful human beings) is that yes, he did get into the "hot seat" (what a lame term), on the last chance he had, and was held over into the next episode. What did he win? That's what I shouldn't say -- but I will tell you that I was treated to a VERY nice dinner that night at an Italian place across the street from Lincoln Center...
Tuesday. No classes. Uncle Chip (family nickname) still on MILLIONAIRE. I shake myself out of bed and inspect my checking account balance -- my mother, God bless her soul, has given me more money. I buy my new NYU ID card, and hop on the subway and ride up to Lincoln Center. I don't have to be at the studio for another hour and a half, so I inspect the excellent Tower Records down the block, then start hoofing it up to 86th Street -- my sister will be moving in up there for a few months, starting in March. This is a very excellent thing. I'm curious to see what her neighborhood will be like, so off I go.
If any of you live in NYC, you know that it was a spectacularly beautiful day today; the twenty blocks flew by. I felt myself more elated than I have been since (what I consider) the last day of autumn, when I saw the color of the leaves in Washington Square Park for the first time -- the change was sudden, and short-lived -- and simply felt very much at peace with the world. Today was one of those days. I had a blue sky and a song in my head (corny but true), and good things were happening to my family. Grabbing a slice of pizza on my way back at 69th and Columbus Ave., I'm off to the studio.
Again, you ask: what did he win? Be away from me, varlet. You can watch him on Friday and Sunday night (yes, that's this Friday and Sunday) and find out. You'll probably even see me -- or at least my shoulder -- when they talk to my aunt. But I will say that I got ANOTHER excellent dinner that night, and that there was much excited communication amongst my various far-flung relatives beforehand. Over that dinner, we consider the absurdity of the situation -- because he entertained 30 million Americans for under an hour, he gets paid (X amount of money). How hilarious is it going to be, we also muse, to see the episode on the Game Show Network twenty years from now? "Look at the haircuts!"
The whole experience is, simply, madness. But damn if it isn't a grand madness.
After the greatest dessert of my life (flourless chocolate cake with caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream), I part ways with my family. I pop back into Tower Records and treat my giddy, newly-remonied self to the new U2 singles (gotta catch 'em all!), and then I'm off back home. Now I'm sitting here sampling the VERY promising new Nick Cave album and simply enjoying the rush of five great days. It's a good time to be alive.
I'll probably get hit by a car tomorrow, now that I've said that, but I don't care at all. It needed to be said.
11:03 PM | e-mail |
The last few days have been amongst the most hectic of my life. And the most satisfying.
Friday night, I had dinner with my Writing Workshop class at Eastanah, an awesome little Indonesian/Malaysian place in Soho. The outing was part of the new unit; the theme of our class is "Writing the City" (huzzah for po-mo academic wank! Yippee!), and this unit is about using food to denote culture and place. Interesting enough. Anyway, academia was the last thing on our minds; it was early enough in the semester that we didn't know each other terribly well yet, but still felt totally comfortable chatting amongst ourselves; we'd seen each other in action, as it were, in class, so we were all on comfortable terms. We had a really great time, and the food was terrific. It's hardly an original sentiment, but then, what is: There are very few things better than good food and good company.
Saturday was a sleep-till-the-sun-is-setting kind of day. I hauled myself out of bed at 3 PM and scooped up tickets to HANNIBAL (oh yes, they were going fast in good ol' NYC -- the 1 AM shows were sold out by 4), then killed a couple hours (mainly at Virgin) until the show. I liked it, my roommate didn't. Mainly, he was just too grossed out to enjoy himself; can't blame him for it, but I, "thankfully," am completely desensitized to everything ever, I guess. I just ate it all up, no pun intended. I'll spare you a lengthier review, except to say that it was wonderful Grand Guignol, that Tom's epinion pretty much concurs with my thoughts, and that it'll probably all fall apart for me if I see it again.
On Sunday afternoon, I realized that I'd lost my NYU ID card. Apparently, it had gotten left in a container of food (don't ask) and was thrown away (unwittingly) by my roommate. Without that card I can't access my meal plan -- no free food -- and I can't get to one of my classes, which requires me to swipe the card through a reader to cross a security gate. Whee. It being Sunday, the card office is closed; can't replace it until tomorrow. I go shell out my absolute last $5 for dinner Sunday night, hoping to God I can put the card on credit.
Monday morning: Shuffle off to my first class, leave early to get new card. No credit accepted. SHITE. I am officially flat broke, broker than I have ever been before. Go to second class, skip third as a result of being incapable of getting to it. Buy a muffin for lunch with my only remaining quarters and dimes.
Ah, but then... but then. I shuffle off to the Upper West Side (putting my subway fare on credit) to the ABC studios on 67th Street. You see, my uncle -- Arthur O'Leary, for the record -- has been selected to compete on WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE?, and I'm on the list to sit in the studio audience and see him. I rendezvous with my aunt and my cousin (and her boyfriend), and we settle down to watch everyone's favorite capitalist orgy take place.
Having just been to a DAILY SHOW taping less than a month before, the contrasts between the cable and network realms were marked. Security on MILLIONAIRE was tight; the instructions far more stringent (hold your Ask The Audience clicker-thingy chest-high so the cameras can see it; wear dark clothing; clap quickly; never talk; etc. etc.) then the lackadaisical "Hey, be cool" attitude of DAILY. One thing you will notice about seeing a TV show filmed: The set is much smaller than you ever would have expected. It is also far chintzier. Let me tell you people right now: the set for MILLIONAIRE looks like a pile of crap up close. The chairs are uncomfortable, the audience is small, Regis is *covered* in makeup and the whole affair looks very cobbled-together. There's duct tape on the back of the audience partition, for God's sake.
What happened on the show? Well. All I'm theoretically allowed to say (I didn't sign a non-disclosure agreement or anything, but out of courtesy to the request of the staff -- who, surprisingly, are all super-nice, awesome, uber-professional, and entirely helpful human beings) is that yes, he did get into the "hot seat" (what a lame term), on the last chance he had, and was held over into the next episode. What did he win? That's what I shouldn't say -- but I will tell you that I was treated to a VERY nice dinner that night at an Italian place across the street from Lincoln Center...
Tuesday. No classes. Uncle Chip (family nickname) still on MILLIONAIRE. I shake myself out of bed and inspect my checking account balance -- my mother, God bless her soul, has given me more money. I buy my new NYU ID card, and hop on the subway and ride up to Lincoln Center. I don't have to be at the studio for another hour and a half, so I inspect the excellent Tower Records down the block, then start hoofing it up to 86th Street -- my sister will be moving in up there for a few months, starting in March. This is a very excellent thing. I'm curious to see what her neighborhood will be like, so off I go.
If any of you live in NYC, you know that it was a spectacularly beautiful day today; the twenty blocks flew by. I felt myself more elated than I have been since (what I consider) the last day of autumn, when I saw the color of the leaves in Washington Square Park for the first time -- the change was sudden, and short-lived -- and simply felt very much at peace with the world. Today was one of those days. I had a blue sky and a song in my head (corny but true), and good things were happening to my family. Grabbing a slice of pizza on my way back at 69th and Columbus Ave., I'm off to the studio.
Again, you ask: what did he win? Be away from me, varlet. You can watch him on Friday and Sunday night (yes, that's this Friday and Sunday) and find out. You'll probably even see me -- or at least my shoulder -- when they talk to my aunt. But I will say that I got ANOTHER excellent dinner that night, and that there was much excited communication amongst my various far-flung relatives beforehand. Over that dinner, we consider the absurdity of the situation -- because he entertained 30 million Americans for under an hour, he gets paid (X amount of money). How hilarious is it going to be, we also muse, to see the episode on the Game Show Network twenty years from now? "Look at the haircuts!"
The whole experience is, simply, madness. But damn if it isn't a grand madness.
After the greatest dessert of my life (flourless chocolate cake with caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream), I part ways with my family. I pop back into Tower Records and treat my giddy, newly-remonied self to the new U2 singles (gotta catch 'em all!), and then I'm off back home. Now I'm sitting here sampling the VERY promising new Nick Cave album and simply enjoying the rush of five great days. It's a good time to be alive.
I'll probably get hit by a car tomorrow, now that I've said that, but I don't care at all. It needed to be said.
11:03 PM | e-mail |
Saturday, February 10, 2001
Elton John To Duet With Eminem At The Grammys.
Unlike every other human being on the planet, I don't have a stance on Eminem, other than the fact that I don't find him entertaining. But you must admit, that is interesting.
11:30 PM | e-mail |
Unlike every other human being on the planet, I don't have a stance on Eminem, other than the fact that I don't find him entertaining. But you must admit, that is interesting.
11:30 PM | e-mail |
This is the best game ever.
Saw HANNIBAL tonight; will talk about it in-depth later. At the moment, though, I'm too caught up in this game...
10:23 PM | e-mail |
Saw HANNIBAL tonight; will talk about it in-depth later. At the moment, though, I'm too caught up in this game...
10:23 PM | e-mail |
Thursday, February 08, 2001
OK, so my page hits today have been extraordinarily poor. But this minor sadness is instantly erased by the fact that one of them is a search for "bacchanalian orgy." But if you're here for that, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. This is the best I can do for you.
8:35 PM | e-mail |
8:35 PM | e-mail |
Setlist from the U2 show in London yesterday at YouTwo.net. The return of "Discotheque," "Staring At The Sun," and "40" to the lineup. Who's happy? I'm happy... only 44 more days...
7:26 PM | e-mail |
7:26 PM | e-mail |
Get me these, please.
Is it really too much to ask that they post the damn ticket price? I have very limited credit at the moment, need to strategize in advance...
6:24 PM | e-mail |
Is it really too much to ask that they post the damn ticket price? I have very limited credit at the moment, need to strategize in advance...
6:24 PM | e-mail |
An excellent review at Salon of FAST FOOD NATION, an analysis of fast-food chains and America's love affair with them. Hit on a lot of my personal problems with fast food in general. I can't lie, I love the stuff; but as someone who wishes for A Better World I feel immense guilt pangs every time I fork my money over to one of the uberchains, and in the process endorse them. However, I'm not an anti-capitalist, nor am I a vegan or something (although God knows I'm sure I'd feel a lot better as a person if I was), so I'm in a hard place on it all -- how can I get my cake (the food) and eat it, too (better corporate responsibility)?
I feel so despicably "counter-cultural for counter-culture's sake" every time I discuss this sort of thing; I guess it's my finely-tuned Wank Detector. Too bad I ignore its signals so often.
6:02 PM | e-mail |
I feel so despicably "counter-cultural for counter-culture's sake" every time I discuss this sort of thing; I guess it's my finely-tuned Wank Detector. Too bad I ignore its signals so often.
6:02 PM | e-mail |
Wednesday, February 07, 2001
Broadband stream of Not Enough Music is live, and it sounds sweet. Hit it up (It's the one that says "broadband," obviously).
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a paper I've been putting off. A lot.
3:14 AM | e-mail |
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a paper I've been putting off. A lot.
3:14 AM | e-mail |
Tuesday, February 06, 2001
SHIT! The Afghan Whigs break up. A great band I'd only "discovered" in the last six months, and now they're gone just as they were hitting their musical stride, IMHO. Sucks pretty damn hard.
Working on a broadband version of Not Enough Music at the moment; sound quality should be more than bodacious, at least in comparison. Worry not; the 56k version will stay very much alive, and it'll share in all the updates the broadband one gets... and can I remind you all that the aforementioned Whigs' covers of TLC's "Creep" and The Clash's "Lost In The Supermarket" are both a part of the program on the station at the moment? Listen, learn, love.
8:28 PM | e-mail |
Working on a broadband version of Not Enough Music at the moment; sound quality should be more than bodacious, at least in comparison. Worry not; the 56k version will stay very much alive, and it'll share in all the updates the broadband one gets... and can I remind you all that the aforementioned Whigs' covers of TLC's "Creep" and The Clash's "Lost In The Supermarket" are both a part of the program on the station at the moment? Listen, learn, love.
8:28 PM | e-mail |
Computer-Mad Generation Suffers A Memory Crash. Ordinarily, I'd say this is BS. But I've spent a disordinate amount of time on the computer in my life, and the last year has forced me to confront the fact that my memory is absolute shite -- it took me two weeks to learn the names of fifteen people in one class, and I *still* couldn't tell you two-thirds of the people living on my dorm floor. I never remember books after I've read them, either... read the article, see if I'm being paranoid. Which is very possible.
(Found on Disinfo)
3:23 PM | e-mail |
(Found on Disinfo)
3:23 PM | e-mail |
Monday, February 05, 2001
Taking a cue from Prol, whose excellent Prolific Radio I spent four and a half hours listening to last night:
I've debuted my own radio station, Not Enough Music, at Live365.com. Go sign up and listen -- almost 100 songs, more than six and a half hours of music, still being updated, expanded, etc. It's worth your time. I hope. Scratch that, it is. Let's get that confidence problem licked, Chris. Anyway, it's packed to the gills with some of my favorite songs, as well as some novelty bits that I'm sure will entertain you. Of course, the line between honest, genuine favorite and entertaining trifle tends to blur in my world, but you'll get a kick out of it nonetheless.
So go listen, dammit!
4:51 PM | e-mail |
I've debuted my own radio station, Not Enough Music, at Live365.com. Go sign up and listen -- almost 100 songs, more than six and a half hours of music, still being updated, expanded, etc. It's worth your time. I hope. Scratch that, it is. Let's get that confidence problem licked, Chris. Anyway, it's packed to the gills with some of my favorite songs, as well as some novelty bits that I'm sure will entertain you. Of course, the line between honest, genuine favorite and entertaining trifle tends to blur in my world, but you'll get a kick out of it nonetheless.
So go listen, dammit!
4:51 PM | e-mail |
Sunday, February 04, 2001
Most of you probably don't care, but: apparently, they just killed off Colossus in the X-MEN books. Wow. I'd say I'm shocked, but I haven't read the damn things in years, so I've grown a bit cold; plus, I'm certain they'll bring him back relatively soon, when they're desperate for any vaguely interesting idea. Happens with more than a fair bit of regularity.
I've yet to deliver on that blog I'd promised a long time ago about the X-Men. Probably a good thing. We'll see what happens in May when Morrison gets his delightfully filthy hands all over them...
2:04 AM | e-mail |
I've yet to deliver on that blog I'd promised a long time ago about the X-Men. Probably a good thing. We'll see what happens in May when Morrison gets his delightfully filthy hands all over them...
2:04 AM | e-mail |
Saturday, February 03, 2001
Just watched SILENCE OF THE LAMBS -- which I'd never seen before -- in preparation for HANNIBAL. That is, and I know I'm striking such an original vein here, a damn good movie. Pretty much as good as a psychological thriller can get. I'm very surprised, however, that it won the Academy Award for Best Picture, not because of its quality but because of the competition -- JFK, BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, BUGSY, and THE PRINCE OF TIDES. JFK especially surprised me; would've thought that would have put up much more of a fight, but SILENCE swept all five major categories. No matter how much people claim they can do it, you can't predict the Oscars.
11:37 PM | e-mail |
11:37 PM | e-mail |
GOOD GOD! WATCH THIS RIGHT NOW!!!!
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!
(via the Warren Ellis Forum)
5:20 PM | e-mail |
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!
(via the Warren Ellis Forum)
5:20 PM | e-mail |
Who can resist the headline Michael Stipe Compares New R.E.M. Album To The Planet Neptune? Certainly not I.
4:26 PM | e-mail |
4:26 PM | e-mail |
*sigh* So much for observing a period of dignity. This excited me so much, and I knew that I'd forget it, so I had to post it now. I'm officially a real blogger -- I just got my first Disturbing Search Request! "jasmine guy naked." I should never have underestimated the lust for pornography involving 80s sitcom stars...
This becomes a lot less entertaining when you can trace it directly (more or less) back to my post about CHICAGO on Broadway, but I'm holding onto the joy of being listed with porn sites in Googleland.
1:58 AM | e-mail |
This becomes a lot less entertaining when you can trace it directly (more or less) back to my post about CHICAGO on Broadway, but I'm holding onto the joy of being listed with porn sites in Googleland.
1:58 AM | e-mail |
Ladies and gentlemen, we have Blogger.
At the worst possible time, apparently... as everyone in the blogging world already knows (but some of you, I know, aren't a part of it), Blogger's business team and staff recently collapsed. Blogger as a product still exists, but the people behind it are gone, and that's just a very sad thing -- I'd never corresponded with any of them, and unlike many others I never even read their blogs regularly, but between everything I have read of theirs, and the things said by other people about them, they struck me as really great human beings who didn't deserve what they got. Blame the slowing economy, blame the bursting of the "Internet bubble," blame whatever you want, but do please remember that cool people had bad things happen to them because of it, and that should give you a moment's pause.
For the record, you can read the whole story at evhead.com, the CEO's personal blog.
I'd love to say something fun after that, but, well, it's really pretty hard. The last two days have been disillusioning for the blogging community and even though I'm not at all a part of the prominent scene, it's rubbed off on me. I just don't want to do anything undignifying after broaching a subject like that. So expect cheerier times and sunnier skies soon (including that big announcement I hinted at a while back), but for now, an evening's silence.
12:02 AM | e-mail |
At the worst possible time, apparently... as everyone in the blogging world already knows (but some of you, I know, aren't a part of it), Blogger's business team and staff recently collapsed. Blogger as a product still exists, but the people behind it are gone, and that's just a very sad thing -- I'd never corresponded with any of them, and unlike many others I never even read their blogs regularly, but between everything I have read of theirs, and the things said by other people about them, they struck me as really great human beings who didn't deserve what they got. Blame the slowing economy, blame the bursting of the "Internet bubble," blame whatever you want, but do please remember that cool people had bad things happen to them because of it, and that should give you a moment's pause.
For the record, you can read the whole story at evhead.com, the CEO's personal blog.
I'd love to say something fun after that, but, well, it's really pretty hard. The last two days have been disillusioning for the blogging community and even though I'm not at all a part of the prominent scene, it's rubbed off on me. I just don't want to do anything undignifying after broaching a subject like that. So expect cheerier times and sunnier skies soon (including that big announcement I hinted at a while back), but for now, an evening's silence.
12:02 AM | e-mail |