The Finer Things Blog

Man of the Year

2009-12-31T19:41:00.000-08:00

With all this end of the decade talk, a lot of lists get written about the best of this and the worst of that. It's all a bit much to take, so I decided to make a one person list of who to watch in the new year/decade. The most obvious and lazy answer would be President Obama. Yes, he has many a national crisis on his hands, but they pale in comparison to the burdens of my nominee. Who is this champion of the people, this savior of the nation? None other than your boy from the 'hood, T-Pain.

T-Pain: Man of the Year 2009

For those unfamiliar with T-Pain, he is a a hip-hop and R&B artist who came on the scene as a solo artist in 2005 with his debut album, Rappa Ternt Singa (or Rapper Turned Singer for those white folks who can't sound out semi-ebonic titles). He also has a thing for top hots. Why, out of all the people in the world, would I choose T-Pain? It all started a few months ago when my friend and I were looking for a good taco place and discussing the status of the music industry. Somehow T-Pain was brought up and my friend said he was a joke, at best a self-parody who always hides behind his top hat, sunglasses and massive grill. Plus, he always uses Auto-Tune, which corrects and/or distorts his voice. The more I thought about the guy, the more of a joke he seemed to me. But, I wasn't offended by the hokey aspect of his image. I'd much rather watch a rapper in a top hat than the tiresome posturing of someone like Ja-Rule or DMX (dated references, I know). T-Pain seemed to be willing to play the part of rap's jester and was making a fine living doing it.

He's only 24 and has a record that has sold at least a million copies. To me, that's impressive. But more than just a seller of music, he seems very brand conscious and uses it to his advantage. By brand conscious, I mean he is self-aware of the image he is projecting and how that can be perceived and/or marketed to the general public. Look at 50-Cent with the Vitamin Water deal or Snoop with his T-Mobile commercials or Roca Wear and Baby Phat. The "rap/urban" brand is extremely marketable. Rappers were once the dangerous outcasts that lived and worked on the fringes of society and music. They were drug dealers and vandals who came off the streets and made music with lyrics like, "...motha fuck the po-lice..." and song titles like "Cop Killer." Now Snoop is on TV telling us we should buy a Sidekick. He's gone from straight up thug to a lifestyle icon. He's like the hip-hop version of Kramer, an eccentric, but lovable neighbor who, no matter what trouble he gets in, can always be forgiven with a knowing nod of an audience member's head.

T-Pain, being relatively young, grew up with cartoony Snoop, rather than thug Snoop. Tupac was killed when T-Pain was in the 5th grade. The rap wars and the urgency of gangster rap in the early 90's is all but forgotten now. Rap is now longer a purveyor of social reform and a voice from the streets, but a supplier of image and lifestyle. Music videos are filled with rappers smoking cigars, driving pimped out Bentleys, and being surrounded by strippers. And through it all, the rappers keep a straight face. Their videos aren't fantasies, but earnest aspirations, signs that the kid from the streets has made it in a big way.

What I feel T-Pain brings to the scene is a sly wink. He is at least partially aware of how seriously rap takes itself and how ridiculous it can seem to an average fan. Some people buy into the image straight up. (If spotting Cadillac Escaldes with rims and LCD screens were a drinking game, you'd be drunk in less than a mile). There are other fans, however, who have grown tired of the cliche and want something new, they want actual talent like Jay-Z or Outkast. While T-Pain might not bring the innovation of these other rappers, he brings a certain levity and playfulness. One needs to only look at his album name (Rappa Ternt Singa) to understand his tone.

My entire argument for T-Pain's greatness rests solely on two videos. One is for his song, "I Can't Believe It" and the other is for his guest appearance on SNL's digital short, "I'm on a Boat."
"I Can't Believe It" is largely circus themed and opens with an image of T-Pain opening his palm to reveal a smaller T-Pain who begins rapping/Auto-Tuning his way into our hearts. Then, there's a close up of T-Pain and his top hat pops open to reveal three more T-Pains and a obviously CG cabin complete with a deer's head wearing a top hat and shades. Later, a teddy bear with shades and a top hat shows up, along with contortionists, a Ferris wheel, and a largely unintelligible verse from Lil' Wayne. All of this done in a very trippy, Yellow Submarine like way where things just appear out of nowhere and explode out from top hats. For the full effect, you can watch the movie below. While the song does get tiresome, the video's ridiculous, WTF visuals make the whole experience worth it.

The second video is "I'm on a Boat" which was done for Saturday Night Live and, as such, is meant to be funny and satirical. T-Pain, again decked out in shades and a top hot, hangs out with SNL's Andy Samberg and raps about how cool it is to be on a boat. I wouldn't even call what he does rapping. He's really just the featured artists who repeats the words "I'm on a boat" about 200 times. But, he's doing it while wearing a tuxedo and a nautical themed top hat. The lyrics and most of the humor is derived from the lyrics and T-Pain is just the lucky dude who gets to be featured in the video, but his willingness to partake proves his self-awareness both as a rapper and his place within rap's past.

There have been many a music video that includes rappers on boats (i.e. Jay-Z's "Big Pimpin'"). In true Hype Williams fashion (the director of "Big Pimpin'" and by the way, what happened to that guy?) the video features fish eye lens work, girls in bikinis, and girls in bikinis walking in slow motion for dramatic effect. Not to degrade Hype's work, which was groundbreaking in the 90's, but by 2000 it was, as they say, played out. We get it Jay-Z, you're a bad ass, you're on a huge boat with women in bikinis. Mad props to you and yours...By 2009 the whole rap music video aesthetic had become a parody of itself and one much imitated and made fun of. Andy Samberg along with his Lonely Island cohorts, Jorma Taccone and Akiva Schaffer, capitalized on that tired image and brought T-Pain along for the ride. Who else, but a man whose entire career is based on self-parody, could have been in that video?

Some might argue that that's all T-Pain is; a self parody. That's certainly what my friend said when we were looking for tacos. And maybe all T-Pain is is a carefully marketed hype machine with no real skills. But, the man sells records. And not just to people who enjoy him in an ironic, he's so goofy kind of way. There are people who enjoy him a legitimate artist. And I think it takes something beyond being well marketed to parody an entire industry and simultaneously be loved and supported by it. At the end of the day, whether T-Pain is talented or not, he's still making money. Looks like the joke is on us.

Another Tantalizing Tuesday

2009-10-27T12:47:00.000-07:00

Lots of good stuff to report, some from the tech world, some from music, and some from art. How typical of me, wouldn't you say?

Wired Magazine's list of top 8 online mix tape distribution sites.

Article detailing St. Louis and their Complete Street Project. Finally, urban planning that de-emphasizes auto-centric streets.

New York Times article examining the state of conceptual art and the welcoming of former rebels like Jeffery Koons into the establishment.

Google Android is making a grab at the Ipod Touch market with their Archos 5. It looks incredible.

French illustrator over at Nesk.

Ever get tired of pie charts and PowerPoint presentations? Let David McCandless' new book, The Visual Miscellaneum show you information in a colorful new way.

As per the A.V. Club, Tegan and Sara's new album is awesome to the max. Also, Midlake and Los Campesinos! are coming out with new albums in 2010. Oh Huzzah!

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

2009-10-23T10:47:00.000-07:00

Tatsuro Kiuchi

For those who don't remember, "P.J." stands for Philip Johnson. I picked him as my imaginary blogging buddy mostly because I've always enjoyed his trademark glasses and have respect for him as an architect. How can you not like a guy who hung out with Andy Warhol? As it so happens, I've been getting to know P.J. a little better thanks in part to my recent acquisition of The Philip Johnson Tapes. The book is a transcription of interviews with Johnson done in 1985 by Robert A.M. Stern. I have just started the book, but so far it's a very enlightening read. He really doesn't pull any punches when it comes to his opinions about anything. I anticipate a lively interview all the way through.

In other reading news, I just finished Nicholson Baker's, The Mezzanine. Though only 130 pages, it takes a while to go through in part because of Nicholson's extensive use of footnotes. I admit it got a little tiresome after a while, but his sustained concentration on minutiae is amazing. Most of the book revolved around the main character trying to figure out why both his shoelaces broke within a day of each other. He thinks about the different places of stress; at the knot, at the shoes' eye holes, along the toe, etc. in excruciating detail, but rarely do his thoughts become boring. He forces the reader to examine the everyday in a new light, often reexamining the mundane and finding something wondrous about it. How often do you read an author who cares deeply about paper towels vs. air dry hand dryers in public bathrooms? I enjoyed the book, but it is not for everyone. It takes a certain patience, one I admittedly didn't always have.

During breaks in my reading of Baker, I read a short story collection by Jim Shepard called, Like You'd Understand, Anyway. It is one of the most consistent short story collections I've read recently. Normally, a collection has a few gems, a lot of decent, but not great stories, and a couple that are just bad. Shepard held a tight grip on his material and never let it falter, even as he skipped around through history tackling such time periods as Chernobyl era Ukraine, Hadrian's Wall era Roman Empire, and the French Revolution. Shepard's stories, which largely revolve around father/son/brother relationships, always stay emotionally grounded. He never lets the historical period take control of the story. It doesn't matter what year the story takes place, relationships between men are always they same and, in Shepard's worlds, always failing. Definitely a book worth checking out, even if you aren't a big lit reader. It's very straightforward and lacks any kind of tricky post-modern elements. It's just a solid read. Period.

Last weekend Treasure Island, in the San Francisco Bay, held its second annual music festival. The island was originally built in 1939 for a World's Fair and fell into disuse shortly after World War II. There was been a lot of argument over the years about what to do with the man made island. Current plans call for a small sustainable city to be built. San Francisco always seems to be the most progressive West Coast city when it comes to social policy. Some message board posters have criticized the city for concentrating too much on environmental issue while ignoring larger concerns such as crime and safety. While I certainly don't want crime, I think that's something I'd rather put up with than cancer induced by chemical/pollutant exposure.

Forgot how I found the site, but The Projectivist is a great blog about art and graphic design.

Tatsuro Kiuchi is a Japanese illustrator of immense talent. In addition to his portfolio site, he also has a blog. Check it out, yo!

The Metro Library and Archive has an online database of Los Angeles maps, each detailing proposed public transit routes over the years. It gets depressing when you realize L.A. could have had its "Subway to the Sea" way back in the 1970's.

Syllabus for the Net Generation via McSweeney's.

San Francisco's plastic bag ban has worked and might be extended to include banning paper bags, some residents pissed.

Barnes & Noble is taking dead aim at Amazon's Kindle with their new e-reader device, Nook.

When was the last time you talked to your cousin, Frodo?

"Good Magazine" Associate Editor and all around swell guy Patrick James has a Twitter. Read it before it reads you.

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks: Monday Edition

2009-10-05T12:39:00.000-07:00

I finished Michael Chabon's Maps and Legends: Reading and Writing Along the Borderlands over the weekend. Not the most interesting book in the world. The first essay,"Trickster in a Suit of Light , starts the book on a high note as it explains Chabon's stance on so-called "genre fiction" and "literature." The premise of the essay was that entertainment has gotten a bad rap over the years because we have limited its definition. Entertainment has come to mean mindless action movies and formulaic sitcoms. That isn't all entertainment is and can be, that's just what we've let it become. Writing, Chabon contents, is also entertainment and that giving writing such a label isn't derogatory, but merely a description of its basic function. He says, "I'd like to believe that, because I read for entertainment, and I write to entertain. Period."

He goes on to define entertainment in its broader sense and finds it quite apropos when applied to writing.

"The original sense of the word "entertainment" is a lovely one of mutual support through intertwining, like a pair of trees grown together, interwoven, each sustaining and bearing up the other. It suggests a kind of mid-air transfer of strenght, contact across a void...I can't think of a better approximation between reader and writer."

The above quote is more or less the thesis for the entire collection of essays, though I felt it wasn't always supported all that well. A couple of the essays were only five or six pages long including, "Landsman of the Lost" which was about American comic strip writer Ben Katchor. The essay gives a brief account of how and why Chabon is interested in the man and then talks about what he did for the essay's remaining four or five pages. This essay, like many in the collection, felt cursory, more recollections than analysis. Chabon often talks of his childhood and liking comics and having various religious and identity crises, but none of it felt all that personal. I never felt that I was getting to know him better as a writer. The essays felt like facts, I was getting a list of things Chabon likes without really understanding their relationship to him or his writing.

The most compelling essay, "Imaginary Homelands," deals with Chabon's Jewish identity as awriter, how that informs his writing, and how an essay he wrote about a Yiddish dictionary angered a lot of scholarly Jews. It was the first time I felt Chabon was intimately discussing something that was important to him and how personal aspects of his life affected his public output as a writer. Plus, it dealt with etymology and language, which is always a point of interest to me. I wouldn't say this essay alone is worth the cost of the book, but it does finally reveal something about the author, which I had been waiting 157 pages for. I have not given up on Chabon as a fiction author. I've read his short story collection A Model World and hope to pick up Wonder Boys sometime soon. In the meantime, I'll stick to other more convincing essayist fare.

LINKS:

Good Magazine has several good articles, one of which claiming that 2009 is one of the best years for the novel we've seen in a while. Pynchon's new novel, Inherent Vice, is proof enough. For a list of must-read novels from 2009, none of which I've read (for shame!), click here.

The lucky bastards in Belgium have not only a kick ass train system, but a new central terminal decigned by Santiago Calatrava.

A new study has found that Mother Earth has tapped out and it's all because we put her in a choke hold. Now we're all going to die. Good going, citizens of Earth.

826 National, in addition to offering outstanding free tutoring services to children around the country, also has an unbeatable line of products including antimatter, robot emotions, and existentialist wine. To celebrate the organization's amazing products and its design/development team, 826 has put out a book entitled, Essentially Odd. It can be purchased at the 826 National website.

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

2009-09-25T16:54:00.000-07:00

My reading streak continues at a rapid clip. This week's schedule includes Denis Johnson's Jesus' Son, Nicholson Baker's The Mezzanine and Michael Chabon's, Maps and Legends. I've found that reading three books simultaneously isn't nearly as distracting or disorienting as I had previously found it to be. I think it helps that one book is a short story collection and the other essays, making it easier to keep track of the information. I find switching between books at a whim makes their respective writing styles richer and more distinct. Each book's style helps set off the next. Plus, it allows me a break if the reading gets too intense. While entertaining and thoroughly enjoyable, sometimes the minutiae obsessed Baker can get a little taxing, so I switch over to the more direct prose of Johnson. Anyway I slice it, I feel my reading is worthwhile both in entertainment value and as templates for my own writing.

In Nor Cal news, the new Bay Bridge is rushing toward completion which means the old Bay Bridge is nearing its end. Fear not concerned citizens, the entire bridge is not being torn down, just the eastern span that stretches from Oakland to Yerba Buena Island. The stretch from Yerba Buena to San Francisco is staying intact save for some seismic retrofitting. The new eastern span is being dubbed a Skyway because it lacks the caged support system of the current bridge and affords uninterrupted views of the Bay.

The official Bay Bridge construction website has all the details, including the eventual dismantling of the eastern span. However, as Newton's Third Law of Motion states, "for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction." What is the reaction you ask? Well, many forward thinking city planners are proposing to keep the old eastern span of the bridge and turn it into a hanging city of sorts, similar to that of New York's High Line. There is also some historical precedence to the idea which is outlined quite extensively in both Streetsblog San Francisco and BldgBlog.

I'm unsure of how practical it would be to build a city on a structure deemed unsafe to drive across, let alone live on. There are lots of kinks to work out, obviously, but it's a forward thinking plan that promotes reuse rather than outright destruction which works on both an economic and historic preservation level. I highly doubt that plan will ever happen, but it can only help in the ongoing fight against waste.

Last year I went to D.C. and spent a lot of time looking through the various Smithsonian museums as well as all the usual touristy places. A museum i failed to go to only because I didn't know existed until late last week was the National Building Museum. How cool is that? I feel all giddy and geeky just thinking about it. le sigh. le swoon. Perhaps if I had explored ArchiAtlas earlier I might have known.

Bonus Link:
Grain Edit is a graphic design fetish site that focuses on work from the 1950's through the 1970's. Most excellent.

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks: Monday Edition

2009-09-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

Los Angeles has been called a city without a center, a sprawling metropolis with no real core. There is nothing within downtown L.A. that draws people in. Other major cities around the country like New York, San Francisco, or Chicago have urban cores that are more than just high rises, but a vibrant part of the cities' social and cultural scene. There is a mix of business and residential districts that keep larger swaths of the city vibrant and open beyond the 9-5 business hours. Los Angeles' downtown largely lacks such dynamism. Bunker Hill, the new downtown, is all office buildings and offers little in the way of social activities. MOCA, located in the heart of Bunker Hill, offers evening programs and the Grand Avenue Redevelopment Project offers some hope, but those plans are a long way off especially during our economic crisis.
The latest project to bring some vitality to downtown is the L.A. Live complex just across from the Staples Center. The entertainment behemoth includes L.A. Live Nokia Theater, Club Nokia, Lucky Strike Lanes, Nokia Plaza, the Conga Room, and a move theater. And opening sometime in 2010 is the L.A. Live Ritz Carlton.

OPENING PARAGRAPH of L.A. LIVE MAIN PAGE

Imagine being "in the moment" - when nothing else matters but what is going on around you right then and right there. It is when you experience something so fully you do not think about it or analyze it, you just enjoy it. The moment is that magical place where you scream the loudest, laugh the hardest and live the fullest. This is the L.A. LIVE experience. As a one-of-a-kind entertainment campus, L.A. LIVE is a genuine world-class sports and entertainment destination where one can experience moments like this all the time.

Nokia Plaza. Photo courtesy L.A. Live gallery

The disturbing thing about this promotion is...well pretty much everything about it is disturbing. The whole selling point of the facility is its ability to overwhelm and dumbfound the visitor with so much spectacle that they don't have the time or energy to criticize it. L.A. Live is all spectacle. But what of substance? They have a bowling alley, a theater, two concert venues. It is, as their material says, "a world-class sports and entertainment destination..." Is that what Los Angeles needs? Is that what any city needs? A destination? A destination implies that one travels there, experiences the destination, then leaves. It is an insular experience because everything is located within the campus. While L.A. Live may be booming, what about neighboring businesses, what of the neighborhood around this entertainment campus?

Anyone who has taken a walk down Figueroa St. knows that the area around L.A. Live, Staples Center, and the L.A. Convention Centers isn't pedestrian friendly. It's filled with chain linked parking lots, granite lined office buildings, and buckled sidewalks. Everything is fine within these insular entertainment destinations, but the surrounding streets are left to fend for themselves. These new civic centers that are popping up all around Los Angeles only serve themselves rather than the community at large. They are too busy being destinations rather than integral parts of both the business and cultural structure. Just look at Universal City Walk, The Grove, Americana, The Block at Orange, and the Irvine Spectrum. All of these locations, two of which were designed my maverick developer Rick Caruso (The Grove and Americana), are mini cities unto themselves; a recreation of urban life within the confines of a highly monitored and regulated environment. It is inauthentic and separates it itself from surrounding businesses by way of massive parking lots and high walls. Even with the inclusion of apartments within these facilities, they are still destinations. They are still only places to visit and then leave.

One only has to look at areas like Old Town Pasadena or The Orange Circle, or Santa Monica's Third Street Promenade or any number of small town business districts to find prime examples of retail and restaurant expansion within a pre-existing infrastructure. The benefits of such a system allow for greater integration around the new businesses. The community itself is being upgraded, not just one development. Shops open up, people are out on the streets, crime goes down. The business district expands and more parts of the city get redeveloped and fixed up and become profitable for the region.

The current development trend in Los Angeles gives people few reasons to stay in the area beyond that initial "destination." There is no chance of roaming to other nearby attractions because there are none. There is nothing immediately outside of L.A. Live worth seeing save for a late night meal at The Pantry. City Walk is on a hill, The Grove and Americana all have restaurants within them and are protected from the city by parking lots and apartment buildings. Why recreate a downtowns when there is one already that already exists? One that can be made vibrant and exciting. Perhaps only a novelty plan, but there are talks of bringing a trolley system to run through sections of downtown. This system would allow the burgeoning downtown scene to be traveled more easily and frequented by more people. With Tom Gilmore's big push for lofts in downtown, the older bank and financial districts are becoming filled with residents. Bars are opening up, blogs are being made, and supermarkets are being opened; all signs that downtown, as it stands, is a viable option for future development without sinking millions into flashy and clandestine entertainment centers.

Sadly, most development strategies are based on the bottom line and not much else. It's understandable that investors would want their businesses to succeed, but at what cost is that success coming? What is the long term viability of such a plan if the neighborhood it is built in is going to seed? Westwood Village saw a sharp decline in business after a shooting in 1988. It has bounced back since then, but there is still a stigma attached to the area. How long before something happens to an L.A. Live concert goer walking to their car? What then will happen to these entertainment meccas? In a development plan that includes pre-existing businesses and buildings, everyone will have a vested interest in the area's success and safety. Everyone looks out for each other. City business councils will be created and the business owners will have a say in their future rather than being pushed around by multi-million dollar corporations.

Old Town Pasadena has gone through a remarkable transformation in just under ten years and is continuing to fight for causes it feels important, namely the preservation of small businesses rather than introduction of large chains. Pasadena has realized the stakes involved and has risen to the occasion. It seems L.A. has not yet realized what is at stake and has taken short term financial success of long term viability. It is more than just a question of finance, it is a question of quality and substance. Los Angeles has long battled with critics who claim the Hollywood aesthetic has tainted the culture and turned it into something flashy and cheap. Navel-gazing projects like L.A. Live only lend credence to that claim and proves the city has yet to really care about its heart and core, it has yet to really become anything more than just overwhelming spectacle.

P.J.'s PICKS

I have yet to find the article comparing Chicago to L.A., but basically it says both cities have very similar problems and Chicago is dealing with them in a much more productive manner. Millennium Park and the new Renzo Piano addition to the Institute of Art are proof enough. How did Chicago get so far ahead? One needs to look no further than the past for answers. Specifically, Daniel Burnham's 1909 Plan of Chicago. In honor of its 100th anniversary, Chicago hired Prtizker Award winning architect Zaha Hadid to design a temporary installation in Millenium Park.

Los Angeles was never graced with a master plan, nor was it limited by space like New York or San Francisco. Perhaps that's why it lacks a core. Be that as it may, there were several attempts at urban planning during the city's early days, none of which did much. Information on L.A.'s central plaza and Olvera Street can be found here.

To keep track of urban news in Los Angeles look no further than Every Block Los Angeles, which gives real time news updates based on zip code.

For eco-living tips and L.A. street news, check out Green Girl L.A. and L.A. Streets Blog.

Ever wonder why Wells Fargo has such high interest rates on their credit cards? How else do you expect their execs to party in Malibu?

A quick rundown of Disneyland's ticket prices. Who says money can't buy happiness? Certainly not Disney.

Do you ever listen to folk duos who were popular in the 1960's and wonder what the less popular member of the group likes to read? I know I do. For a full list of books Art Garfunkel has read between 1968 and 2007, please click here. For a list of his all time favorites, click here. For a blistering new track by Macho Man Randy Savage, click here.

Friday Night Links: Saturday Edition

2009-09-05T14:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks to a recent revisit to Hipster Runoff I came across some rather distressing news. No, Animal Collective hasn't broken up, but Ikea has changed their catalog font from time honored Futura to Veranda. Idsgn has the scoop. There's a tremendous backlash within the fontography community but as Ikea spokeswoman Camilla Meiby said in an interview with AP, "We're surprised, but I think it's mainly experts who have expressed their views, people who are interested in fonts. I don't think the broad public is that interested." Well that may be true, but it doesn't make it any less outrageous. OUTRAGEOUS, I say! For those of you who aren't hip to the differences between Futura and Veranda, the link posted above has a handy side by side comparison.

Overall, I think Futura is a cleaner Sans Serif font when compared to Veranda. And, as one commenter noted, using Veranda make the ads looks like they could have been printed by anyone with a computer, while Futura held a distinctiveness that was associated with Ikea. Idsgn also has a primer on Futura for those looking for a little something extra. Need even more typographical knowledge? Head on over to Typophile that, among other things, has a story about a woman getting fired for sending emails in CAPITAL LETTERS. Outrageous, I say. OUTRAGEOUS!

In other less exciting and more disgusting news, I came across a couple videos on YouTube that have made me question what it is to be human. The first is a video for something called the Neti Pot. Perhaps you've heard of it. If not, here is the video:

If that weren't enough I also found a hilarious video of a zit getting squeezed. Is it wrong that I am entertained by this late into the night?

For the music lovers out there, and you know who you are, the cover for the Monsters of Folk album has been been released and can be seen here. A band with M. Ward and Conor Oberst? Could it be true? Yes, yes it is. Try not to wet yourself. The records hits stores Sept. 22.

Lastly, a random endorsement for an author I've never read. Tao Lin.

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

2009-09-04T16:51:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of talk among music critics about scenes. There was the grunge scene in Seattle, the hardcore scene in D.C., the punk scene in London, the new Pac Northwest scene that includes Death Cab for Cutie and the Decemberists. Every city seems to have had a "scene" at some point within music history. Omaha, of all places, has a scene thanks to Conor Oberst and Saddle Creek Records. Los Angeles never seems to make any of these scene lists, at least to my knowledge. The closest thing I can think of is the East Coast/West Coast rap battles of the 90's, which cooled down considerably after the murders of Biggie and Tupac as well as the incarceration of Suge Knight.

It's surprising to me that L.A. is void of a scene especially since it's described as being such a small town, socially speaking. This has a lot to do with Hollywood and the massive networking that goes within the entertainment industry. With all these people working together, how can some sort of scene or movement not exist in L.A? I think one does exist and has been around for a while. It's difficult for me to know whether this scene is currently emerging or I just think it is because I'm becoming cognizant of it.

Take, for example, Largo. (I think you will find that after a while, this article will be nothing more than a Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon like scenario which, incidentally, can be played here.) Largo is a sit down theater that is host to many actors, musicians and comedians. A quick look through their schedule shows performances by comedian Patton Oswalt and musician Jon Brion. Both work with director Paul Thomas Anderson whose movie "Magnolia" featured songs written by Aimee Mann who also performs at Largo along with Fiona Apple, who dated Paul Thomas Anderson.

If we expand the circle out a little wider, Zack Galafinakis also performs at Largo. He is friends with Patton Oswalt, who has done stand up for 826LA. 826LA is part of 826, a non-profit organization started by author Dave Eggers who wrote a movie, Away We Go, starring John Krazinski and Maya Rudolph. Maya Rudolph is going out with Paul Thomas Anderson. And this list could go on forever, circling outward into a vast orgy of Hollywood incest. All this is done to prove, however, that L.A. does a very credible arts scene that, at least according to my knowledge, has been developing since the 90's.

Much of the artistic movement of today has a lot to do with the so-called hipsters, particularly around the Echo Park and Silver Lake areas of Los Angeles. There has been a backlash against hipsterdom for a while now, primarily because of their alleged love of anything obscure, cerebral or pretentious. They're the new wave of art school prepsters pretending to barely get by on their boho chic lifestyle. Say what you will about their fashion, attitude, or gentrification of various cities, but at least they have a vested interest in the city's cultural life. I asked a friend how she liked living in Austin. She said there was a lot of plaid, so it was a pretty cool place. Plaid is shorthand for hipster fashion along with skinny jeans and funky colored sunglasses and there's plenty of that around L.A. I can only imagine what the crowd will look like at the FYF this weekend.

And what are the hipstesr listening to, what art are they promoting? They listen to, among other things, No Age, a stripped down indie outfit that often play at Family Bookstore on Fairfax. Family Bookstore, along with Stories in Echo Park and Origami Vinyl are all in the business of promoting local musicians, artists, and writers. Both Family and Stories are collaborating with 826LA on various events. For a mini documentary on Family Bookstore, check out the We Love You Blog all about Spike Jonze's new movie, Where the Wild Things Are. Oh, did I neglect to mention Spike is also a friend of 826LA? Small word, huh? No Age, in addition to playing Family Bookstore also play at a venue called The Smell. Need more like-minded, L.A. based non-profit organizations? Look no further than Machine Project, Ooga Booga, and the Silver Lake Conservatory of Music.

What makes all these people an organizations more than just businesses? The difference is that they are integrally related to the neighborhoods in which they stand. They don't just sell things to the community, but welcome the people in to be participants in conversation. Not just literal conversation, but to be a dynamic force both in the L.A. art world and the immediate neighborhood. There is a reciprocal relationship between the establishments and residents. And not only do the businesses provide workshops, classes, music, art, books, meeting spaces to their customers, but to other business as well. They work together for the betterment of everyone. As mentioned above, 826LA has worked with both Stories and Family Bookstores. It has worked with Maya Rudolph and Spike Jonze and Patton Oswalt and Largo. There are artists, musicians, and actors in Los Angeles who, without trying to, are part of a burgeoning group of people keeping the interest and promotion of art alive in Los Angeles. And that's more than can be said for LACMA who just recently had to cancel its weekend film series. And UCLA narrowly escaped having to close down its arts library. With major artistic institutions falling by the economic wayside, it's comforting to find people willing to make a scene. An L.A. scene at that.

Random Links:

L.A. FreeBee

Sartorialist

Look Book

NPR Story about the comedy scene in L.A. during the 1970's.

Two Martin Short interviews on Letterman that, although about 15 years apart, are eerily similar and equally hilarious.

Interview I
Interview II

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

2009-08-28T16:22:00.000-07:00

Friday Night Links/ P.J.'s Picks:

I'm one essay away from finishing Consider the Lobster and I just picked up George Saunders' CivilWarLand in Bad Decline and Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation. Reading wise, things are going pretty well. And for those who don't read, well, you're probably not reading this either so nevermind...I've been pretty hungry this past week and have been relying heavily on cold cereal for sustenance. Never underestimate the power of shredded wheat. When not eating nine bowls a day I look to a couple L.A. food blogs for restaurant tips:

Eater L.A.

Eating L.A.

The sites are pretty similar in their content; restaurant reviews, events, and gossip, but I always find myself looking at both. They help fill in the gaps of the other. They both have a slight crackberry.com feel in that they both giddily slip out rumors and discuss the possibilities of soon to open restaurants. Gossip includes the hiring of new chefs, changes in menus, the addition/removal of valet service, and new desserts rumored to be in the works. Both sites also keep track of restaurants that have a BYOB policy, which is always an enjoyable find.

L.A. Weekly's Jonathan Gold recently released his 99 Essential L.A. Restaurants. Did your favorite hot spots make the list? There's only one way to find out.

If you're a lover of local newscasts like I am you'll be thrilled to know that long time Fox 11 news anchor John Beard, who has been off the air due to Fox's decision not to renew his contract, is alive and well and (like everyone else in the world) has a Twitter. If you're tired of getting news feeds from The Man and would prefer getting your news from a man, follow his Twitter. For those of you who don't know who John Beard is, I really shouldn't be talking to your because your ignorance saddens me. However, I will tell you he is semi-famous outside of the L.A. region due to several cameos on Arrested Development.

Pitchfork is known for giving practically every album a rating of four or lower. It's like they're not even aware that there are numbers higher than five. Sometimes they come off elitist and unabashed lovers of all things obscure/indie. Haven't heard of Florence and the Machine, Mungolian Jet Set, or Nisennenmondai? Too bad. Pitchfork has and they love them more than a new pair of skinny jeans.

Those who bash Pitchfork never seem to mention that it's more than just a site for album reviews. It's full name is Pitchfork Media. As such, they have lots of exclusive video footage, interviews and cultural essays. A few of the more enlightening articles include:
The Social History of the Mp3
The Decade in Pop
Twee as Fuck: The History of Indie Pop

For the burgeoning writers of L.A., I present to you UCLA's annual Writer's Faire. It takes place on August 30 from 11-3. The full schedule can be found here and a UCLA campus map here.

And, if you enjoy vintage diners but not the high cholesterol meals they serve, come on out to DRKRM Gallery, which is hosting a photo exhibit of lost L.A. diners. It's a Googie lovers dream come true with half the fat and none of the guilt!

Inception

2009-08-24T12:03:00.000-07:00

As reported by A.V. Club, the trailer for Christopher Nolan's new movie "Inception" made its debut at many of the Inglorious Basterd screenings around the country. The teaser trailer can also be seen here. It stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Ken Watanabe, Jospeh-Gordon Levitt, Marion Cotillard, Ellen Page, Cillian Murphy and Michael Caine. The cast alone gives me very high hopes, especially with Joseph Godon-Levitt on board. The guy can do no wrong. And I'm curious to see if Ellen Page can move beyond her ironic detachment phase and do some legit acting.

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

2009-08-21T14:24:00.000-07:00

I picked up yet another David Foster Wallace book. This time it's Consider the Lobster, his second collection of essays. I'm not done with it and am right in the middle of an essay on lexicography and English usage in America. The essays are crammed with facts and wit and make for easy and enjoyable reading. I find the book especially refreshing after trudging through the highly neurotic and cerebral stories of Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. The essays in Consider the Lobster lack the excessive introspection and self-doubt and as a result are more accessible and easier to read.

It's not entirely fair to compare his short stories and essays because they each strive to do something entirely different. It's like the old cliche of comparing apples to oranges; you just can't do it. Be that as it may, I have compared the two and decided essays win out at the end. I'll be back with a more in depth look at the essays when I'm done with the book. In the mean time, here are my links:

A whole article dedicated to the history of Webster's Third Dictionary often touted as, "The Most Controversial Dictionary in the English Language."

My old buddy Logan Esdale has a brief but insightful primer on the work of Gertrude Stein.

The blog of New York based writer Molly Young. It's not often that I come across a writer's blog that actually has meaningful content.

In an effort to be topical, here are several links relating to our bum economic times.

"Atlantic" essay on health care

Having trouble finding cheap eats in L.A.? LAist's ongoing blog, Recession Obsession will help you find the goods (but not the droids) you're looking for.

Two part article on organic produce. It really helps demystify and clarify what all the labels mean and brings some balance to the whole organic vs. corporate farming debate.

Part I

Part II

Do you enjoy low cost Swedish furniture of dubious quality? Then check out Ikea Hacker, a blog dedicated to the tweaking and improving of the hard to pronounce, yet easy to love furniture of Ikea.

Carver's Beginnings

2009-08-05T13:32:00.000-07:00

Later this month a new Raymond Carver collection will be published and will include unedited versions of the stories from What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. The compilation has been in the works for several years with much of the spearheading done by Carver's widow, Tess Gallagher. Her belief, which is shared by others, is that Carver's editor, Gordon Lish, trimmed the stories down almost to the point of suffocating them and changed their meaning entirely.

Carver: Collected Stories is intended to show Carver without the restraints of his editor and how his earlier work was just as detailed and nuanced as his late period stories such as the ones found in Cathedral. Lish, in Gallagher's eyes, did not sculpt her late husband's work so much as distort it into something entirely different. These new unedited stories are titled Beginners and are the original drafts of what became Carver's breakthrough collection, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. As a London Times article notes, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love consists of 103 pages, while Carver's original manuscript was 204. Nearly half of the stories' contents were cut; on average it was about 70% per story.

Such judicious editing and reshaping of work begs the question of who was really behind the genius of Carver's writing. Which set of stories is the "real" Carver? Knopf, Carver's original publishers and part of the group who initially resisted the publication of the new stories, argues that,

What We Talk About requires no explanation. It is what it is – it is not standing in for some other “pure” text unsullied by messy editorial fingerprints. Every notable book...is the product of a collaboration between author and publisher, and while What We Talk About may exist at the extreme edge of editing, it is not unique.

This posthumous publishing of an author's work is nothing new. Also released this year, Hemingway's unfinished novel, A Moveable Feast, Nabakov's incomplete novella The Original of Laura, and Graham Greene's series of stories, The Empty Chair. Other unpublished works or personal documents made public include the journals and letters of Sylvia Plath, the letters of John Keats, the letters of Truman Capote etc. etc. The list goes on and on. What ends up happening, though, is these fabled pieces of work get published and then, inevitably, get reviewed as being mediocre at best and not nearly as revelatory as they had been hyped to be. Such is the nature of unpublished work. It wasn't published for a reason; because it wasn't very good.

Are Carver's unedited stories, "lesser works"? Some of that depends on one's aesthetic taste. Some prefer the stripped down style of Carver's debut collection, Will You Please Be Quiet, Please? while others prefer the more robust stories of Cathedral. Is one style more "real" than the other? Not in my mind. I agree with Carver's publishers. A published book is a collaborative effort between author and editor, between author and friends, between the author and the world in which he lives. Authors are a product of their environment and circumstance and so is their writing. Take away any single element from any author's life and their writing will change. Writers also frequently change their style. Just look at Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey and compare it to Sense and Sensibility. The self-consciousness concerning the novel as artifice present in Northanger Abbey is completely absent from her other work. Carver, like Austen, and many other authors, changed his style as time progressed and no longer desired the minimalist writing championed by Lish.

To publish a collection of stories for the purpose of vindicating an author's talent is harmful to both the author's original work and his legacy. In the case of Carver, I think Gallagher is trying too hard to portray her husband as a victim and a gifted writer stunted by his editor. That's not to say the stories shouldn't be published, I just don't think they should be published under the pretense of revisionism. Gallegher's goal seems to be to redefine people's opinion of Carver.

Instead of reshaping opinion, the collection should be used to broaden our understanding of the author and his collaborative writing process. Story drafts are much like artist's sketches in that they provide insight into the creative process that leads to the final product. Carver's story drafts are not the master key that will allow the reader to unlock his genuis, but rather one more piece of the puzzle. Carver's legacy, like Kafka and Dickinson before him, is being controlled without his consent. Thankfully, also like Kafka and Dickinson, his work is strong enough to withstand the meddling of outsider's hands and outlast even those who outlasted him.

2+2=5

2009-08-03T16:36:00.000-07:00

Sometimes this country's education system really boggles my mind. I know there's no easy fix and that, presumably, people are doing the best they can to make it work, but a lot of the policies seem counter-intuitive. Take my job for example. The students I tutor receive the help for free thanks to No Child Left Behind (NCLB) and increased Title I funding to the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD). In other words, the government is paying for the tutoring the children receive.
Under NCLB, each state sets their own academic standards and determines the level at which each child should perform. There is no national standard set. So far, so good. All this testing and goal setting is, of course, put in place to make the states and their districts more accountable for the help the kids get. The government wants to make sure their money gets put to good use and the students are improving at a rate that is satisfactory. Fine. That makes sense.

Where things start to break down is in the lack of leeway educators are given in choosing and creating curriculum for their students. Like everything else about the program, it is strictly regulated by LAUSD, the state government, and the federal government. It is my job, as a tutor, to assess the students' abilities against state standards, to do all I can to make sure they reach those standards and give the student a post-assessment to see if they reached their goal. The big problem here is that test assessment covers a wider range of subjects than the government sanctioned curriculum covers. It's like the government asking students to be proficient in 10 categories, but only giving them help is three and forbidding any outside assistance.

At one point my company had an account to an online service that allowed educators to access supplemental worksheets; extra lessons to be used in addition to the main curriculum. That account is no longer available because it does not fall under the category of acceptable education material set by the state. Now I have to look elsewhere and find material on my own that may or may not pertain to the sanctioned curriculum. It's not that I mind looking for the material, it's that the state is asking for higher scores in subjects they are unwilling to provide material for.

I have a student who needs help in spelling. The lesson plans in the district approved workbook I am supposed to use do not cover spelling. It is meant as a reader. I asked my boss if they had any spelling material and she said no. I can only use what's in the workbooks and maybe adapt some of the reading lessons into something for spelling. Well, my student does not need the type of help given in the workbook. He needs something far more specific.

I understand the need for quality control and assurance, but limiting the resources of the educator creates two problems: The student will receive limited help in their given subject of need and/or the educator will go out on their own and find their own material to teach, standards be damned. Either way, the students are the ones losing out. They are not getting the help they need and the post-assessment test will show that. The government will either throw more money at the problem and hope it helps or stop funding because they think the status quo is ineffective. If the government approved curriculum matched the subjects being tested a lot of the program's deficiencies would disappear. I know that's easy for me to say, I'm not the one writing and passing the legislation. But still, honestly people, it's a simple game of matching things up. Test four subjects. Give help in four subjects. It's so easy a first grader could do it.

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

2009-07-31T17:05:00.000-07:00

After coming across a link in the blog of photographer Aaron Farley I've begun to renew my interest in photography. I've been taking photos since I was about three or four thanks to my dad, who bought me my first camera. I don't remember what kind it was, but I'm pretty sure it involved winding the film and choosing an aperture. My mom like to watch me eat Jell-O with my hands, my dad thought it was fun for a toddler to figure out how f-stops worked. Off I went, camera in hand. My photos were invariably aimed up and more than a little crooked, but sure enough, I was a four year old photographer. Over the years I continued to take photos, mostly on family vacations. Early subject matter included Coke machines and chewed gum.

At some point I was given an SLR camera and started taking photos with it. I think I was about 9 or 10. I didn't know I had an SLR or what an SLR even was, but I kept on taking photos, often imitating and trying to one better the shots my dad took, which were often of buildings. My dad, being the consummate site seer and tourist, lugged around a two ton camera with a zoom lens that doubled as a telescope. My mom always opted to wait for us in a gift shop somewhere and browse with great earnestness for a pair of earrings she thought my aunt might like.

My interest in photography began to wane when I was in high school, probably due to my intense desire to distance myself from anything remotely related to my parents. My photographs up that that point were of mostly buildings and cities, flora and fauna. People were largely absent except for the occasional tourist who wondered into my shot; fanny pack and floppy hat. The camera sat in my closet until college.

Leave it to laziness to reawaken my love of photography. The deal was, according to my school's requirements, that I either take a P.E. elective or photography. Sports is unbecoming to those of us in the geek community, so I opted for photography. It was the usual stuff; weekly photo assignments based on technique learned in lecture and the eventual printing of said assignments. My photos were middling at best. Part of the problem was my inability to load the negatives onto the reel for developing. Instead of opting for the dark room, I always chose to unload the film from my camera in one of those lightproof bags. My hands turned into sprinkler heads and I completely soaked the negative in flop sweat. Not that it hurt the negative, but it was kind of embarrassing to still be loading my film to be developed and watch classmates show off their third print of the day. Needless to say, making prints was not my thing.

Photography faded into the background again until the digital age came about and taking photos didn't involve the cost of film and making prints. I've gone the way of the maniac when it comes to digital photos; shooting indiscriminately and editing later. I've gained a lot of practice time that I wouldn't have had under the cost limitations of film. I've learned to be patient with the execution of taking photos. Tripods are now acceptable as is taking the time to frame and figure out the correct aperture. I have come to terms with photography being a process of trial and error.

Part of my initial reticence toward taking photos was the fear of making a mistake. I'd never know if I had taken a bad photo until I printed it, but the fear was still there as was the proof; that print with the blurred finger in the corner or a building out of focus. Now I can make as many mistakes as I want because it doesn't cost me anything. My photos are better now. Not great, but better. I even have a few that I think would be acceptable as a large print, 8x10 even. It's nice to know I can do decent work.

Why do I take photos, why have an interest in photography at all? A lot of photographers say they want to document their world; capture and remember events that might otherwise fade from memory if not for the photo to remind them. And while this is true, photos do capture moments, they also capture moments in other people's lives. And so the photographer is not just a documentarian, but co-opter. He is taking moments from others and using them to create/remember his own life experience.

Not all subjects want to be photographed and not all photographs are taken with permission. It requires bravery on the photographer's part to essentially steal moments away from people and make them his own. What right does a photographer have to document another person's life? What will be done with those photos? How will the people's lives be judged based on the use of the photos? A photographer has to have a certain brazenness to work against the resistance of his subjects and capture the moments he wants to; to co-opt their lives into his own.

It is a brazenness I lack and probably the reason so few of my photos include people. It seems impossible to me to make such claims, to demand such intimacy from my subjects. It is an invasion I don't feel right making. So I stand along the periphery and gaze at the world.

I look at photos by Diane Arbus and wonder how she got so many people to let her photograph them, how such relationships came into place, and how fortunate it was for both of them that such a relationship existed. Not just for the sake of the photo, but for each other, for the tremendous freedom and relaxation that I fantasize must exist between the subject and the photographer. It all comes down to intimacy and closeness and people letting their lives mingle together for just a moment and to share something together. They are creating a memento and a secret shared by only themselves.

As a spectator, I enjoy imagining that closeness, that feeling that each person (both photographer and subject) is a part of. As a photographer, it is a challenge for me, on a personal level, to break through my shyness and forge those relationships and catch something between me and my subject. The photo that results is largely, in my mind, a happy by-product of the relationship; it is secondary and merely a reminder of something far greater than what the photograph can show. Maybe such relationships don't exist, maybe I have romanticized delusions about how photography works, but I think I am allowed such delusions, as every photographer is. If nothing else, what is photography, but the framing of the world through one person's eyes. And through their photographs we are allowed to see their reality, however unreal it may seem.

FRIDAY NIGHT LINKS:

American Suburbs X: A collection of photos, movies, and essays by and about some of America's greatest contemporary photographers.

I Heart Photography: A photography blog that gets updated daily with photographs from around the world.

Gary Leonard: L.A. based photographer who has a gallery open downtown. The current exhibit shows photos of billboards around Los Angeles in the 1960's.

Robert Adams: A photographer whose career was largely focused on the American West particularly California, Colorado, and Oregon. One of his more famous photo collections, "The New West," came out in 1970.

William Eggleston: Another photographer greatly interested in the American suburban landscape who rose to prominence in the mid 1970's.

Bill Owens: Yet another chronicler of suburban lifestyle.

I'm greatly attracted to suburbia for a couple reasons. First of all, it's a fairly recent development that really came about during the Post-War boom years. The 50's were a time of economic prosperity for a lot of Americans, or at least it was important to project an image of prosperity. We were beginning the Cold War and domestic perfection had to be maintained at any cost. Although the above photographers took their photos in the late 1960's and 1970's, there's still a pervasive image of optimism mixed with the mundane( i.e. watering the lawn or feeding a baby). It's kind of like watching residents of OZ doing their laundry. It's the breakdown of the American ideal into its very real and often uninteresting parts. Life is no better in the 'burbs than it is anywhere else. It just happens to be shiny and new.

Also, I think suburban life is largely overlooked because it has been documented by every family and their point and shoot camera. It is a pedestrian photography subject that is of little interest to the art community. What these photographer have done is explore the dynamics of suburban life and bring to light the complexities and yes, trivialities, of that lifestyle. Suburbanites are people too and are fraught with the same dilemmas as everyone else.

The interest in suburban life has seen a resurgence as of late thanks to movies like "American Beauty" and "Revolutionary Road." Of course, not all of suburbia is as dysfunctional as those films portray. The above photographers, I feel, strike a delicate balance between showing the dysfunction and the everyday.

Jonathan Harris has a couple cool sites that track what is talked about on the Internet.

One is called, We Feel Fine. It searches through websites and blogs throughout the world and picks out sentences with the phrase, "I feel..." It then saves those sentences and records it based on emotion listed (i.e. love, lame, scared, grumpy, busy...) The sentence is then cross-referenced on the site according to emotion expressed, location, age, gender, and weather forecast at time of posting. It then turns all these emotions into colored dots floating across the screen for you to click on. It's actually a lot more fun an interactive than I am describing. Check it out.

The other site is called Universe and it tracks any subject and the articles/bits of information that mention or pertain to that subject. It is similar in scope to We Feel Fine. Again, it is something better experienced than described.

Some miscellaneous links:

Interactive map of farmers markets in L.A. and OC

Good Magazine's three-part series on conserving water.

A highly unauthenticated Wikipedia article about the California Water Wars. Think "Chinatown," but without the incest sub-plot and oddly amusing cameo by Polanski.

Friday Night Links

2009-07-10T17:23:00.000-07:00

Friday Night Lights/P.J.'s Picks:

I swear to you I'm going to put up actual blog posts, but for now you'll have to suffer through another round of links. This week's theme is loosely based around architecture, as seems to be the case quite often around here. These links are slightly more focused in that they deal with architecture and urban design within the scope of environmentalism.

Detractors of environmentally friendly urban planning projects often say that all this environmentalism talk is all attempt to stop global warming which, in their minds, doesn't exist. That, and the government is regulating business and manufacturing in ways it has no right to do. The way I see it, environmentalism is not an ethos or way of life dependent upon a belief in global warming. To me, it's just about common sense. In essence, environmentalists want to keep the world as clean as possible. We have seen that dumping trash into the ocean is not a good idea. Toxins get spread through ocean tides and fish ingest mercury and we ingest the fish and then we ingest mercury. We've seen that if air pollution is not relegated to one place and that wind patterns can carry smog across countries and continents. Dirty one part of the world and, chances are, that dirt will spread elsewhere. What environmentalism tries to do is avoid the spills and messes of the world. It is trying to keep humanity from pissing in the well from which we drink. It's a simple concept and one that promotes a hearty sense of self-preservation. We want to keep the Earth as habitable for as long as possible. As kids, our parents always told us to clean our rooms, doesn't it makes sense that we also clean our planet?

In an effort to jump on this environmental bandwagon and increase long-term sustainability, the city of Los Angeles is embarking on a series of public transportation projects, many of which have been rumored and argued about for years. Plans include more light-rail train routes or extensions of pre-existing routes, trolley service in downtown, bike rentals, and the legendary subway to the sea. All these projects are in their planning stages and require lots of money from a city going broke. While these projects might not even get started into 2011 or 2012, at least there are city planners and leaders who are trying to do something about the traffic problems in L.A. The infrastructure definitely needs some work and I'm glad freeways are being pushed aside for more environmentally feasible options.

"The New York Times" has a two part article about what to do with the inflexible infrastructure of the suburbs and how some economically downtrodden communities are dealing with the closure of "big box" stories. There is also a look at sustainable design for the future including a new phase of pre-fab homes that are vaguely reminiscent of the Case Study Project.

Slightly related and a little more hip is the promotion of chalk and white board paint. What are these marvelous products you ask? Glad you did. They are wall paints that, once dried, double as either a chalk or white board surface. For once it's permissible and encouraged to write on the walls.

And just to keep my literary peeps happy, a link to a pretty comprehensive and fairly well-known site on literature that includes interviews and book reviews.

Lastly, an in-depth article about language and how, more than just a communication tool, it also dictates your perception of the world and overall cognitive processes.

Mid-Centrury Madness

2009-06-29T17:13:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that I am a lover of Mid-Century design. In honor of such a noble period in international design I've assembled a few links and articles of interest about and showcasing the style. You're Welcome.

Mid-Century children's book illustrations

A look at Brutalism, the one part of Mid-Century design of which I am not particularly fond.

A short article about the cyclical nature of design and how 60's kitsch is now the source of inspiration for current "serious architecture."

Architecture Timeline recounted in broad, yet effective terms.

***Bonus Link for the Modern Reader: 879 free songs available for download via Amazon.

Art 101: Prof. Obama------Building: White House------Time: 2008-2012

2009-06-29T11:45:00.000-07:00

I had never really thought about the logistics of moving into the White House until I read a "Wall Street Journal" article about the Obama's art collection choices. While most of us have to settle for posters and prints of famous painters, presidents get to hang the real deal. The Obamas, like presidential families before them, send out notices to museums nationwide, saying they would like to borrow pieces by certain artists for the length of the president's term. These pieces will be hung throughout the White House, some in public space, some in private. As per the article, "The president can hang whatever he wants in the residence and offices, including the Oval Office, but art placed in public rooms, such as the Green Room, must first be approved by the White House curator and the Committee for the Preservation of the White House, an advisory board on which the first lady serves as honorary chair."

The Obamas--like it's any surprise--have a more progressive and modern sensibility when it comes to art. Artists requested include Jasper Johns, Robert Raushcenberg, and Edward Ruscha. In an effort to make the White House art collection more inclusive and representative of the American artistic landscape, the Obamas have also requested art by female and African American artists such as Alma Thomas.

Currently, the roughly 450-piece permanent collection includes five works by black artists: the Clinton portraits by Mr. Knox; “The Builders” by Lawrence ; “Sand Dunes at Sunset, Atlantic City” by Henry Ossawa Tanner, which hangs in the Green Room and was purchased at Hillary Clinton’s urging in 1995; and “The Farm Landing,” a tranquil landscape painted in 1892 by Rhode Island artist Edward Bannister, purchased with donations in 2006.

The Obamas consistently seem to embody an effortless cool and hipness. They are aware of modern culture and openly embrace it. Their goals of inclusion and unity are not a part of a PR policy, but of genuine concern. The national media have taken some heat for promoting and covering this image of cool, while neglecting coverage of the president's political work. Stories on Michelle Obama's dresses or the President Obama's NCAA Tournament picks are seen as inconsequential and letting the president avoid political criticism because his public image is that of a very hip, forward thinking man. (Anyone who gets made fun of by John Hodgman automatically gets some pop culture street cred.) Are the aforementioned stories merely fluff? I think interest in the Obamas art collection, the First Lady's Dresses, and the President's basketball favorites, all indicate a general interest in government. It shows that there is a man leading the country that people are watching and want to know more about. I think any interest at all in political figures is a good sign. It shows investment in the political process and the future of the country. If said investment involves learning about the First Family's love of Jasper Johns, then so be it.

"Wall Street Journal" article in its entirety.

A little background on President Obama's favorite artist, C.M. Coolidge. (just kidding)

Friday Night Links

2009-06-26T16:05:00.000-07:00

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks

I've been trying to read more lately and that has lead me to finishing The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao in about three weeks. My pace is pathetic, but it is faster and more consistent than it used to be. Thank goodness for small favors.

I didn't like the book at first, finding the narrator's voice to be excessively flashy and verbose. Later, I came to see its purpose and found the style to be quite affecting. I ended up liking the novel a lot, but wouldn't rate it among my favorites. It won a Pulitzer, which I guess it deserved. I don't know which other books were contenders, so I can't really say.

Also on my reading stack is David Foster Wallace's, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. Before this book the only other work of his I'd read was his short story collection, Girl with Curious Hair. I still rate the collection's final story, "Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way" as among my favorites. Brief Interviews is a less straightforward read, interspersing "interviews" with more traditional short stories. The interviews slow me down a lot because the fictional subjects tend to be men who are deeply neurotic, self-deprecating, and obsessive. Who knew a story about how annoying a baby could be would last for 25 pages? I find most of the stories rewarding and am continually amazed at how Wallace can transform seemingly pointless and neurotic obsession into something profound and illuminating. His writing takes patience, but I find the struggle worthwhile. His mix of heavy intellectualism, emotional self-flagellation, and humor, make for a very unique and awe-inspiring read. I hope to continue my DFW reading trend with Consider the Lobster and A Supposedly Funny Thing I'll Never Do Again.

I just started Italo Calvino's Cosmicomics and am enjoying it immensely. The man can do no wrong. I'm not sure what I want to read next, though I am leaning toward something by Lydia Davis.

P.J. has been trying to get me to join Twitter, but I have held strong against him. I am willing to concede that there are some cool people to follow including, Aziz Ansari, John Hodgman, Eugene Mirman, Jim Gaffigan, and Michael Ian Black. I chose these guys specifically because they are funny comedians and they retain that humor on Twitter. As you may have noticed, Michael Ian Black is up there, but his Stella brethren, Michael Showalter and David Wain are not. As much as I love the other two guys, I found their Tweets to be more pedestrian (i.e. "I have to confess that even though it's in Los Angeles, Langers Delicatessen has by far the best pastrami in the world. I had it today!" ) Thank, David Wain! Although, in his defense he also said, "Redoing my bathroom as one huge urinal, so you can just open the door and pee anywhere. Cost me a fortune but how awesome is that?" I found it funny. Maybe it's 'cause I'm a guy with the mind of a 12 year old.

In other, slightly more important news, I stumbled upon a few cool sites dealing with print design and art.

Velhetica

PSFK

Design Observer

If you feel hungry after all that interwebs browsing, try a recipe from Sam the Cooking Guy.

Least, but certainly not last, the official homepage of professional Canadian and all around cool guy, Mr. Logan Esdale.

Sketches of Neutra: A Review

2009-06-24T13:08:00.000-07:00

About a month ago I made a post about a Neutra exhibit at the Los Angeles Public Library. I finally got a chance to go and it was worth it. The only downside to the experience was having to pay for parking. Yeah, I know, it's downtown, I should expect to pay for parking. But still, you'd think of all places, the main branch of the public library would have a free parking lot. Turns out they don't even own or rent a parking lot. Visitors have to park in a public lot on the street or in an underground lot off Flower St. I'm not sure what good it does to offer free books if it costs money just to get to them. I probably should have taken public transportation, but I didn't have the luxury of time to do so. Anyway, on to the actual exhibit...kind of.

Before I talk about the exhibit proper, I would like to give some major, nerdy ups to the library itself as a building and as a warehouse of information. It's just a fabulous place to get lost in and explore and just marvel at. Some people go to the mall, I go to libraries. Okay, enough with the prefaces...

The exhibit is arranged in chronological order and starts out with a lot of early landscape drawings that include sketches of his travels to South America. Some of his figure sketches were influenced by Gustav Klimt, while his basic drawing ability was largely taught to him by his sister, Josephine. I'm a sucker for sketches of any kind because of their roughness. They show mistakes and process and, as an onlooker, I can trace the stages of the drawing from simple form to finished product.

The sketches give way to more formal architectural drawings that really showcase Neutra's meticulous nature. As a curatorial note mentions, "Unlike most famous architects who developed large offices and eventually left drawing function to younger colleagues, Neutra was never willing to relinquish completely this aspect of his practice." The amount of detail and precision required of the drawings is immense. Everything is measured perfectly, the lines are of even thickness and darkness. It looks like the work of a machine rather than a man. To think that Neutra sat down and actually took the time to hand draw all his buildings is mind boggling.

Both the early sketches and later architectural drawings show a man who was constantly engaged with his surroundings and wanted to create buildings that were both aesthetically pleasing and functional. He, like Wright, Le Corbusier, and many other architects, designed whole dream cities, reimagining lifestyle through architecture. He used this city titled, Rush City Reformed, as a reservoir of ideas, constantly coming back to themes of harmony and utility.

Beyond the biographical knowledge presented, the exhibit also expresses and presents Neutra's philosophies concerning architecture, most notably that the buildings around us affect the way we live, that social betterment is possible through architectural planning. Today, it feels like cities aren't planned very well or are planned based on traffic patterns and population density. There is a sense that civic planning is down to its barest bones; just enough planning to make sure chaos doesn't break out. Neutra's vision was opposite of that and cared very much about details and making creative solutions for modern life. Architecture as solution.

The exhibit displays drawings that were amazingly detailed along with curatorial notes that help place them in their historical context, tracing Neutra's influences and his stylistic breakthroughs. Like the sketches, the exhibit allowed me to trace Neutra's life, his shifts in style, his growth as a designer. I was able to see a portrait of Neutra that was fully detailed and by no means sketchy.

Carl's Jr.: How Loathsome Can You Go?

2009-06-23T20:00:00.000-07:00

There has been a lot of buzz on the interwebs lately over the new Carl's Jr. commercial featuring "Hills" cast member, Audrina Patridge. In the commercial Audrina is lounging on the beach in a bikini while eating a burger. Its pretty standard stuff for Carl's Jr. whose previous commercials have included Padma Lakshmi and Paris Hilton. This new commercial, though, this one really puts my fries in a twist.

The commercial is intolerable for two reasons, the first of which is Audrina's voice work. Her voice is sleepier than her eyes. At no time does she sound the least bit sexy or at all enthused about the burger. Stephen Hawking whispering into my ear is more arousing than listening to Audrina.

The most infuriating thing about the commercial, though, is the use of Rilo Kiley's song, "Moneymaker." This isn't Carl's Jr.'s fault, it's Rilo Kiley's. I'm of the school of thought that believes bands shouldn't license out their music to corporations. Beyond that, I never thought Rilo Kiley was the kind of band to do such a thing. They are indie darlings who have four albums worth of solid song craft. Added to that, many of their songs are about, in some way or another, female struggle and empowerment. They take an honest look at life as a female. Their artistic integrity and message are completely at odds with the imagery and message of the commercial. Not least of all, Jenny and many if not all of the other band members are vegetarian/vegan. Why would a band of vegetarians agree to release their song to a fast food corporation? Are they really that desperate for money? Are there really that many bills to pay? My only explanation is that Rilo Kiley doesn't hold rights to the song and it was sold to Carl's Jr. by their record label. And that, my friends, is shitty.

Although, it's a whole other discussion, a record label's job is to represent and promote a band in the best way possible. Not everything is about the bottom line. Part of representation means ensuring the integrity of the band's image and message. Selling songs to a fast food corporation is not how I would define the preservation of artistic integrity.

The abomination can be seen here:

Friday Night Links

2009-06-12T18:13:00.000-07:00

P.J. was jonesing for some good Mexican food, so he Yelped a few places in the area and decided on a little joint down by the railroad tracks that sells tacos for 99 cents. I was suspicious of such an amazing deal, but figured it was worthy a try. The tacos were small, but still generous considering their 99 cent price tag. I ordered a two taco/rice and bean combo for 4.99. The carne asada was all right. Tender, but heavily salted. P.J. ordered the taquitos and pretended while eating them that he was smoking a cigar. It got kinda messy when he tried to make plumes of smoke using guacamole. Sometimes I feel I can't go out in public with P.J. At least not to any place respectable. Overall, the food okay and would make do if need be, but definitely not a place I would rave about. P.J. responded more favorably to the joint because of the free jalapeno peppers. He's a sucker for the free giveaway.

Friday Night Links/ P.J.'s Picks:

Interview with author Lydia Davis

Architect(ure) themed roach coach in Venice

Trailer for documentary about architectural photographer Julius Shulman

Some of Pasadena's restaurants are starting a Bring Your Own Wine program on Wednesday nights. No corkage fee!

Charlie Rose interviews Frank Gehry

Los Angeles reading series Book Party's blog

Friday Night Links

2009-06-05T22:38:00.001-07:00

P.J. and I had a week full of suck and it's all because DirecTV pulled the bonus channels we were receiving like VH1 Classic and Ovation. It was to be expected and something we should have seen coming. As every kid in high school econ learns, "There ain't no such thing as a free lunch." DirecTV surely wasn't going to let us enjoy premium channels for free. No sir. Instead they just titillated us with their artsy channel peep show and then pulled the plug just when we were getting comfortable. We will no longer be watching documentaries on bands like Pink Floyd or the Sex Pistols, nor will we get to decide whether a painting is art or not. So, thanks a lot DirecTV. Now P.J. and I have to make due with A Baby Story mini-marathons, True Life: I'm a College Baller, and the wacky antics of Bam Margera. It's like a pop culture smoothie where the only ingredients are lard, apathy, and a fat scoop of shame.

After being burned so badly by technology, P.J. and I decided to go the old school route and devote this week's links to something decidedly non-digital: BOOKS. And don't get me started on the Kindle (shakes fist).

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks:

I've always had a fascination with bookplates. I'm not sure why. Probably because it's a really bad ass personalized sticker and who doesn't like stickers?

I'm not sure how legit and official the organization is, but this site claims to be the home of the American Society of Bookplate Collectors and Designers.

Confessions of a Bookplate Junkie has hundreds of fine examples of the art, some of which are quite elaborate and enviable.

Found Beloved is a site dedicated to children's books found at garage sales and second hand stores. At least I think that's what the site is about. Also somehow affiliated with Marzipan Press.

And for those interested in the design and making of books I give you:

Biblio Odyssey which focuses on antiquarian book art

Amassblog which covers book design through the ages

and for the font enthusiast...

Typographica

Friday Night Links

2009-05-29T18:45:00.000-07:00

Friday Night Links/P.J.'s Picks:

P.J. and I have had a pretty slow week and spent most of our time watching TV. We're not sure how or why, but we started getting channels that we never had before like VH1 Classic and The Biography Channel. We watched Joe Cocker belt out "With a Little Help from My Friends" at Woodstock on VH1 Classic. P.J. was pretty into it. I thought the performance lacked subtlety. Whatever.
The real highlight of our week came during the discovery of Ovation TV and one of its shows, "Art or Not?"

Each episode highlights a series of "artists" and their work as well as critics who argue about whether the "artist" creates real "art" or not. It's not nearly as pretentious as it sounds, though P.J. and I both thought some of the artists tried too hard when defending their work. Two artists I recognized were Obey Giant founder Shepard Fairey and Ed Hardy clothing creator, Don Ed Hardy.

I had no idea Ed Hardy was an actual artist who sells his designs to a clothing manufacturer. I thought it was just another clothing brand with obnoxious images. The strangest part is that the guy looks like an average suburban dad with curly hair and a plaid shirt. His laid back surfer/tattoo parlor aesthetic is entirely at odds with the muscular bros I see wearing his clothes.

Although not on TV, Fora.tv is a TED-like website that promotes the review and discussion of national issues including gay marriage in California, the success/failure of No Child Left Behind, and the influence of bloggers.

For those in a Los Angeles state of mind, we bring you Art Blogging L.A. The site is dedicated to tracking and promoting all manner of art exhibitions throughout the Los Angeles area, as well as show reviews.

The last links of the night are from P.J., who insists I promote his architecture-minded agenda. This time he is focusing on World's Fairs which, I must admit, is something of a secret obsession of mine (I guess that's why we get along so well).

Paris Exposition of 1925 and the Creation of Art Deco

San Francisco's Pan-Pacific International Exhibition of 1915.

Chicago's World's Columbian Exhibition of 1893

Expo Museum: Online archive of almost all the World's Fairs since their inception in 1851. It even keeps up with the latest World's Fair news like possible host cities for future fairs (Yes, World's Fairs still take place and or coordinated by the BIE).

University of Maryland also has a pretty extensive library archive.

Two Rabbis Walk Into a Bar...

2009-05-27T10:56:00.000-07:00

Though there is a video on Youtube chronicling the Evolution of Dance, no such video exists for the Evolution of Comedy(a video involving The Three Stooges and two Richard Pryor clips doesn't count, especially when the opening song is by Bachman Turner Overdrive), which is a shame. And no, I'm not going to make an Evolution of Comedy video, if that's what you're thinking. What I am going to do I highlight a particular brand of humor that, according to a "New York Magazine" article, is fading fast.

Article writer, Mark Harris, contends that Jewish humor in American stems from the Jews' position as an outsider; an immigrant people who were forced to assimilate and oftentimes had trouble doing so. The comedy, he says, "emerged from a combination of pain and pride that now seems more historical than contemporary. Jewish humor has always struggled between extremes: The excluded outsider is also the smarty-pants; self-mockery tussles with self-aggrandizement; the prideful intellectual is also a slave to his basest appetites and most uncontrollable bodily functions." This fear and worry over assimilation and identity has been passed down through the generations, leading to the creation of comedy legends like the Marx Brothers, Sid Caesar, Milton Berle, etc. Each of these performers were born into and part of a society in which they were perceived, in some way, as an outsider.

Due to cultural changes that started in the 1970's, the Jew as outsider has slowly disappeared and the classic Jewish comedic archetypes are no longer featured as prominently in TV and movies. Contemporary funnymen like Jon Stewart are cited as being able to slip into an old school Jewish persona and then proceed to shrug it off. It is no longer essential to their comedy, nor is the feeling of being an outsider central to their life experience.

Amid this seeming loss of Jewish comedy, there are two men keeping the dream alive: Woody Allen and Larry David. Allen is famous for his nebbish New York Jew; an angst ridden individual who sees very little to be hopeful for and finds the human condition to be discouraging. Larry David, rather than being the self-reflective introvert like Allen, opts for the more out sized persona. David, both through "Seinfeld" and "Curb Your Enthusiasm" creates characters that are visibly uncomfortable with the world they inhabit and makes sure everyone knows it. His misery becomes everyone else's.

These two titans of Jewish humor recently teamed up to make a movie titled, "Whatever Works." According to Harris, watching the movie allows the viewer to,"...witness the Jewish man as funny–sad–barely functional Gloomy Gus come to life again and also to wonder if that guy still has any relevance in an age when American Jews don’t feel so bad about things, except on Yom Kippur."

For those hoping for an Allen revival, this movie might bring some hope. The screenplay is vintage, going back all the way to the early 1970's. It never got made for a variety of reasons and was brought back into the light because of the recent writer's strike. Whether the movie is a true return to form for Allen isn't here nor there. I think the important thing is that the comedic tradition is being kept alive and with any luck, being picked up by a new generation. This new generation includes Adam Sandler, Judd Apatow's ensemble, and the guys from Stella/The State (a.k.a Michael Showalter, Michael Ian Black, David Wain) among others. Woody Allen once said, "tradition is the illusion of permanence." I hope the illusion will last just a little while longer.

EXTRAS:

"New York Magazine" has a handy timeline of Jewish comedians (It's a .pdf, though).

For those of you needing succinct and immediate examples of Jewish humor I submit to you, Old Jews Telling Jokes.

Tim Whatley: Uber-Jew

Also, although I can't attest to the fact that all the people are Jewish, I think Art Garfunkel's misguided attempt at artistry via "Bookends'" fifth track, "Voices of Old People" is a classic example of old school kvetching. "I still haven't gone to the doctor. I've been coughing up blood for the past 48 hours and I can't get up the mucus for the past two or three months..." The way the guy says mucus is priceless.

Indexed

2009-05-26T11:30:00.000-07:00

Indexed understands me in a way none of you ever will.

"Come on Come on and Dance All Night, Despite the Heat It'll be Alright..."

2009-05-24T16:31:00.000-07:00

Pitchfork has posted a list of all the major and not so major music festivals going on this summer. Some of them look pretty tempting. Anyone down for a trip to Chicago, Montreal, or Quebec? I need to get out of town for a while.

Friday Night Links

2009-05-22T17:14:00.000-07:00

In honor of Fridays and esteemed American architect Philip Johnson (pictured above), I've decided to start a weekly post dedicated purely to cool websites I've come across during the week. I'm going to make a vague effort to group the links thematically, but I'm not making any promises.

This Week's Links/ P.J.'s Picks:

Philip Johnson's Glass House
Good Magazine's Blog
Self-proclaimed "Directory of Wonderful Things:" Boing Boing
Style and design magazine/website: Daily Icon

Neutra

2009-05-22T13:06:00.000-07:00

The main branch of the Los Angeles Public Library will showcase 140 sketches and drawings by famed Modern architect, Richard Neutra. Many of the sketches were part of a donation Neutra gave to UCLA nearly 50 years ago and have never been displayed. The exhibit entitled, "Richard Neutra, Architect: Sketches and Drawings" runs through Sept. 6.

Full details can be found on the L.A. Times site.

The Breakup: Starring Me, You, and Everyone We Know

2009-05-20T14:12:00.000-07:00

A recent New York Times article talks about how couples who share their Netflix queues often have to make difficult decisions and be willing to compromise, both in their movie selections and in their relationships. Maybe Netflix is the reason the divorce rate is so high. Damn you, moooooooviiieeesss!!!!

FYI: I came across the article by reading the blog of Youngna Park, a talented photographer and co-founder of the what seems to be defunct, Modern Letter Project. :(

"This Modern Thought Can Get the Best of You..."

2009-05-19T14:06:00.000-07:00

As much as I love Modernism I must admit it has its share of radical supporters whose ideas don't always make a lot of sense (I'm looking at you, Robbe-Grillet). The goals of Modern literature, simplistically speaking, were to completely disregard the previous literary traditions and begin everything anew. The old modes of writing were considered insufficient in their ability to describe the new, highly fractured world view that came into prominence following World War I.

One major proponent of Modernist ideologies was author and critic (although he denounced the title) Alain Robbe-Grillet who, in 1963, published a compilation of essays about fiction writing titled, For A New Novel. In it Robbe-Grillet compares the literary traditions of yore to tree branches and that, "...the branch in question is actually dead of natural causes, by the simple action of time...and if all those who cling to it so desperately would glance up just once toward the top of the tree, they would discover that new, green, vigorous, hearty branches have grown out long since" ( p. 26).

He goes on later in the book to say that he is not proposing Modernism as the new, permanent style. It too will pass and something will take its place. Literature should always be alive and vital and change along with the needs of the writer. In Robbe-Grillet's mind, the writers of the period no longer needed many of the literary conventions such as linear narratives, omniscient narrators, and metaphor. And this is where I feel Robbe-Grillet went a little too far with his proposal. He confused popularity of convention with usefulness. Just because a mode of writing has fallen out of fashion it doesn't mean it's not useful.

Every writing technique is there to serve a purpose. Metaphor, for example, compares two objects in order to cast one of those objects in a new light. In Dave Eggers' short story, "On Wanting to Have Three Walls Up Before She Gets Home" he says, "...the air is gray and dense and the snow falls like ash." Eggers' description of snow forces the reader to question their preconceived notions about each object and how, according to his suggestion, they might actually be more similar than originally thought. Robbe-Grillet, on the other hand, wants to get rid of metaphor completely, arguing that its use devalues the intent of the initial word. In the case of Eggers' story, he is not allowing snow to be described as it is, but instead, relies on another image (ash) to get his point across. As I stated earlier, in creating a metaphor, the author forces the reader to reassess their notions of both objects and come to a conclusion about them. If anything, the comparison invites further thought on the meaning of each word and doesn't devalue them at all.

Along with metaphor, story structure, or at least linear story structure, was also brought into question during the reign of Modernsim. Linear story structure plots a straight line from one point in time to another. A story takes place at noon and ends at five in the afternoon. Non-linear storylines jump around in time and lack structure. The plot meanders wherever it may and lacks cohesion; the events of the story may seem unrelated and arbitrary. The point of this technique is to reflect the often random nature of life and the banality of human existence. While I don't have a problem with this form of writing, I think it's unwise to completely dismiss traditional story structure as archaic. Many of the best works of literature are well-plotted and completely dependant upon that plot to work.

Playwright, Theresa Rebeck, knows all to well how much structure has fallen out of favor with the literary community. In an L.A. Times interview she says,

Last year I attended a cocktail party for a theater that was doing one of my plays. The artistic director was making a little presentation, introducing me to his staff and his board, and he said -- in front of everybody -- "Theresa's plays are always really well-structured, but don't hold that against her."

The next day I wrote him an e-mail. "Hey, is it somehow considered uncool to structure a play these days?" I asked.

"Actually," he wrote back, "my literary department kind of does think that."

She defends the rotten branches of literature Robbe-Grillet was so eager to trim by saying, "Structure is not our enemy, it is the form that makes content possible; it is the meaning that holds the image and imbues it with specificity; specificity is not our enemy; intellect without heart is not more, it is less and in the theater sometimes less is just less. Contemporary playwrights don't need to toss away all that has come before us, nor could we if we even tried."

The last line of her quote echoes an oft-repeated line in Paul Thomas Anderson's movie Magnolia which says, "We may be through with the past, but the past is not through with us." Literature is not written in a vacuum. It is a product of a person's imagination, a person who, whether they like it or not, is influenced by the world around them. The changes Modernists so desperately wanted to make were in response to what had come before; the Victorian and Romantic Periods. In order for new branches to grow, there have to be roots somewhere. Nothing is created out of thin air. Structure, like metaphor, and omniscient narrators, may be part of an older tradition, but they are no less important than the new, Modernist tradition, incidentally, is pushing 100 years old. Looks like some one's outlived their usefulness ( I'm looking at you, Modernism).

Criss Angel Freaks My Mind

2009-05-19T03:03:00.000-07:00

Criss Angel became well known and universally mocked shortly after his now cancelled television show "Mindfreak" began airing back in 2005.* The show features Criss Angel performing various tricks and illusions while sporting eyeliner, a freshly waxed chest, and a diamond studded necklace in the shape of handcuffs (because nothing says "I'M A MINDFREAK!!!!!" like jewelry so gaudy even Liberace wouldn't have worn it). My problem isn't with the fact that he's a magician, it's that he looks so ridiculous yet takes himself seriously.

The man dresses in a style that can only be described as Hot Topic meets The Village People: all black clothes, large rings in the shape of skulls, and dyed black hair cut in an asymmetrical pattern that covers his eyes. Oh yeah, the all black clothes include an unbuttoned leather vest that accentuates his freshly waxed chest. How this man is completely oblivious to the homoerotic nature of his look is completely lost on me. I guess that's why he's the Mindfreak and I'm not.

Normally people in the entertainment industry have some amount of self awareness. They know the image they are projecting and how that image is perceived. Criss Angel either completely lacks that self awareness or doesn't care. How else can you explain why he voluntarily goes out in public looking like this?

People who actively sport the Criss Angel look usually do it ironically and for comedic purposes, such as Hope is Emo. Angel wears his skulls and chains non-ironically and with an earnestness that verges on pathetic. In perhaps his greatest trick ever, Criss Angel has managed to meld Criss Angel the man with Criss Angel the persona so thoroughly even he can't tell the difference. The results of the trick are painful because it involves watching a 40 year old man wear eyeliner and sing the theme song from his TV show live in Las Vegas.

Even if his fashion sense is forgivable(which it isn't), there is still the small matter of his website which proudly asks visitors to, "Give the gift of Criss Angel. Criss Angel Fan Club Memberships Available Now." Not only is he assuming that people want to be part of his fan club, but that being a part of that club is somehow gift worthy. Wondering what to get that special person in your life who seems to have everything? Why not bless them with the epic fail that is Criss Angel's magic career?

More pictures of Criss Angel can be found here and here, although I think he'd be better represented if his photos were posted here.

For those of you who have no idea what I'm taking about, here is a commercial for Criss Angel's show "Mindfreak."

* Editor's Note: Holy crap, "Mindfreak" is still on the air and about to begin a new season on A&E. I could have sworn A&E stood for Arts and Entertainment. Criss Angel is neither of those. They must be desperate for content.

Renzo Piano, Stop Playing with My Emotions

2009-05-18T23:23:00.000-07:00

The New York Times posted a few articles regarding architecture, the first of which is a review and announcement of an exhibit titled, “Frank Lloyd Wright: From Within Outward," currently on display at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York. The museum is celebrating its 50th anniversary and is commemorating the architect who designed it, Frank Lloyd Wright. The article says that, "Taken as a whole, the exhibition conveys not only the remarkable scope of his interests, which ranged from affordable housing to reimagining the American city, but also the astonishing cohesiveness of that vision..."

(Guggeneheim Museum by Frank Lloyd Wright)

As a former Frank Lloyd Wright fanatic, it sounds like an enviable exhibit, but perhaps not as exciting as the opening of the Renzo Piano designed Modern Wing of the Chicago Institute of Art. The article gives the building a favorable review citing that the museum, like other successful projects by Mr. Piano, has a wonderful interplay with light and a strong sense of interior space. Within the context of the city, the building also fits in with neighboring Millennium Park designed by Frank Gehry as well as the museum's original 1893 Beaux Arts structure.

(Chicago Art Institute by Renzo Piano)

The one negative point the article makes is in regards to Mr. Piano's style as a whole. "Many of his peers gripe that this is because of the subdued nature of his designs — sophisticated but not too threatening or unfamiliar — which seem tailored to ease the insecurities of museum boards." Mr. Piano, an Italian architect, is having a personal American renaissance designing civic structures all over the country, most notably, "...the renovation of the Morgan Library in Manhattan, a science center in San Francisco and museum additions in Los Angeles, Boston, Chicago and Fort Worth. (He even designed The New York Times Building.)" In an L.A. Times article, which I can't seem to find, an argument is made against Mr. Piano's middle of the road design principles and contends that the ubiquity of said principles in American civic design might lead to a very bland, homogenized architecture, especially in museums.

This fear is further echoed by a nearly unanimous panning of Mr. Piano's recent addition to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). The history of the museum's remodel is long and somewhat infamous (if one is so inclined to follow museum remodel scandals). As the article mentions, LACMA has had a troubled history, architecturally speaking, since it first opened in 1965 when tar started oozing into its fountains. A remodel was commissioned sometime in the 1980's that only further muddled the layout and architectural continuity of the site. In the early 2000's then LACMA president and director, Dr. Andrea Rich, set forth a giant fundraising campaign for yet another LACMA remodel. In 2002, after an international design competition was held, Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas was selected. His plan was to completely raze the current buildings and house the museum's entire collection under one massive glass roof. It was a bold move that most critics agreed was the right choice. However, due to logistical and financial problems the Koolhaas reconstruction was scrapped in favor of a tamer, less expensive remodel by Renzo Piano. In the middle of all this construction buzz, Dr. Andrea Rich stepped down as president and Michael Govan, president and director of the Dia Art Foundation in New York was chosen to be her replacement.

(Proposed LACMA remodel by Rem Koolhaas)

(Broad Contemporary Art Museum by Renzo Piano)

The first phase of the Renzo Piano designed project, the Broad Contemporary Art Museum, financed by home construction mogul and Los Angeles philanthropist Eli Broad, was opened in February 2008 to lukewarm critical reception. As with much of Mr. Piano's work, its interior space was complimented as feeling very open and filled with light and an area in which the art truly was the focus. The outside, however, remains as monolithic as the rest of the museum buildings, especially along Wilshire Blvd. A new entrance pavilion was created, in an attempt to reorient and strengthen the axis of the campus. This proved successful, but the building itself doesn't feel particularly inviting. As noted in a review of the the new building, "Mr. Piano’s design is remarkably uninspired. There is little of the formal freedom that is at the heart of the city’s architectural legacy; nor is there much evidence of the structural refinement that we have come to expect in Mr. Piano’s best work. The museum’s monumental travertine form and lipstick-red exterior stairways are a curious mix of pomposity and pop-culture references. It’s an architecture without conviction."

However, the new building is phase one of the development process. Part two is under construction and includes an amphitheater, a temporary exhibition space, and a plaza filled with palm trees. Sometime in the distant future there are also plans to do something about the existing buildings. What those plans might be and their effectiveness remains to be seen. All eyes are on phase two. Let's home Mr. Piano can dig a little deeper into his imagination and build something fitting for the ever experimental architectural landscape of Los Angeles.

More information and photos of the LACMA addition can be found at dvisible magazine.

For a closer look at Rem Koolhaas's design, check out Arcspace.

An interview with Renzo Piano conducted by Charlie "let-me-interrupt-you-for-the-thousandth-time" Rose can be seen here.

McDonald's: The Idiots Have Landed

2009-05-15T15:24:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder why the French always seem to dislike Americans so much?

Here's your answer, conveniently edited into a 30 second dose of idiocy.

Playwrights on Writing

2009-05-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

After snooping around the L.A. Times website for a bit, I ran across, "Playwrights on Writing." It is, as described by the L.A. Times, "An occasional series appearing in Sunday Arts & Music." In each article a different playwright says a little something about their writing process and/or the the function of plays in contemporary culture.

As of the writing of this post, there are 31 different articles. I've read about a third of them and found only a few of them interesting. It's not that I disagree with what the playwright is saying, I just don't find what they write to be particularly illuminating of thought provoking. More often than not the articles, which start out on a personal note, unravel into vague abstraction wherein the playwright discusses writing theory. There were a few pieces that, while tedious as a whole, made a few good points.

The first article I read, which discusses writing comedy, was written by Amy Freed. The second half of the piece focuses a lot on how written comedy may or may not come off well when performed. I will rate that section as, "meh." The real gold nugget I came across and am glad to see is promoted by writers is,

When you write comedy, you must surrender your grandiosity and your aspiration to be thought important and beautiful, even though every person on the face of the Earth wants to be exactly that.

It's refreshing to see that someone understands the inherent silliness and sometimes "unimportant" nature of comedy. Comedy's objective is laughter. Let's not try to infuse everything with messages and grand statements about humanity.

Personal idol Kurt Vonnegut had the chance to write an article and it was solid, through and through. He confesses that he is not terribly concerned about topical plays that address the issues of the day or fight for change among the masses. He simply writes something what interests him without worrying about infusing his plays/novels/stories with a moral. I will leave my love of his article/message at that and in a future post, explain why I am so against stories that try to teach lessons.

The last article that I felt was solid all the way through was written by "Doubt" playwright, John Patrick Shanley. It isn't so much his perspective on writing that I enjoyed, but his ability to create and extend a metaphor. His metaphor is relevant, easy to understand, and illucidates his point without making it feel like he was trying too hard. I don't want to ruin the whole thing for you, nor do it a disserservice by summarizing it, so I will just say that the article is well written and gives unique insight into Shanley's thoughts on human nature.

While, as stated earlier, I found many of the articles to be dry, there are some thoughtful points made, not just about playwrighting, but writing in general. The full list of articles can be found here.

Too Hip to be Square

2009-05-13T12:18:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how I stumbled across thisisnotikea.com, but I did and found it to be wonderful. The site, which sells retro and vintage furniture, is the brainchild of Angelenos, Alexis Hadjopulos and Tom Whitman. The two men roam around Los Angeles looking for unique pieces of retro and vintage furniture, buy them, and then resell the stuff on their site. Every piece of furniture is categorized and linked by type, color, and room. It's a simple, yet effective organization process that allows for easy perusal of hundreds of items. Hadjopulos and Whitman are constantly on the prowl for new items and update their site regularly.

The site seems to be attracting a lot of attention. Enough attention, in fact, that it is the subject of an article on the L.A. Times website. While this is great for the site, it's bad for me because I felt as if I had stumbled upon something special. Now, everyone and their vintage loving cousin will be looking at the site. I've never actually purchased anything from the TINI.com, but it felt like a secret find. It's like discovering a cool local restaurant just before everyone else does; before the foods becomes tasteless and the service turns slow. The good news, I guess, is that the Modernist aesthetic is being spread throughout the Southland and rare pieces are presumably going to deserving and saavy buyers. There's that, at least. Also, no one reads the paper anymore, so maybe the site will remain my little secret. I probably shouldn't have blogged about it, though. Oh well.

Where the Wild Things Are

2009-05-11T14:05:00.000-07:00

Everyone and their mother is dying to see Spike Jones' latest movie, Where the Wild Things Are, slated to be released on October 16th. For those who can't wait that long and must get as much info on the movie as possible, Spike and Co. have started a blog that chronicles the movie's influences as well as the lives of the people who worked on it. The site also features a list of links that includes long-time personal favorites 826, Miranda July, and Rubin Recommends. Check it out, yo.

Twitter Dee, Twitter Dumb

2009-05-01T12:00:00.000-07:00

Twitter is the big, new Internet craze and everyone is jumping on board. Celebrities, especially, seem drawn to this new communication platform as are their fans. Shaq has a Twitter, Ashton Kutcher has a Twitter, Erykah Badu famously Twittered when she was in labor. News organizations such as the New York Times are also sending out updates via Tweets (message posts). It seems that there is no individual or organization that isn't somehow helped by using Twitter. Or at least that's the theory.

News shows across the country are trying to figure out why Twitter is so popular, whether it's useful in any way, and whether or not its popularity signals the end of civilized communication as we know it. All this hullabaloo started because of the restrictions Twitter puts on its Tweets, which limits each entry to 140 characters, including spaces. There have been debates both for and against the service, none of which really made any decisive points. Even Stephen Colbert, master interrogator, failed to come to a consensus after interviewing Twitter co-founder, Biz Stone. New York Times columnist, Maureen Dowd, went to interview the folks at Twitter and was convinced she would take them down a peg. Turns out, she thinks they're pretty cool.

I, personally, do not use Twitter. I might some day, but as of right now, I don't find it particularly advantageous to do so. I think it has some merits. Like all things, I think it depends on how it's used. As the old saying goes, each tool has its own purpose. What's is Twitter's purpose? What is the best use for it? Twitter is still relatively new and has yet to find its place among other communication services. It is certainly being used heavily, but whether those uses (such as NYT's news Tweets) are viable in the long term remains to be seen. Twitter might just be another fad waiting to die out. No one knows for sure.

Amongst all this confusion, however, is an in-depth analysis of Twitter provided by the good people at Pitchfork Media. Popularly known as the organization that rarely gives music albums scores higher than "6," Pitchfork Media, as the name implies, discusses and writes about things other than music, including Twitter. Their article closely looks at how the number of followers one has on Twitter affects the content of the Tweets as well as the responses from other Twitterers. They posit that the greater the number of followers, the more each post becomes a broadcast, rather than a personal communication. Conversely though, higher follower numbers also increases the likelihood of receiving responses to Tweets. This, in turn, creates a dialogue that might not have existed on a Twitter account with a low number of followers.

It's the first article I have read that doesn't focus on Twitter's 140 character post limit and how it's hastening our descent into complete linguistic anarachy. Reporters often point to instant messaging and texting as evidence of a society losing its command of written language. There are even online reference guides to help one make sense of all the abbreviations made in texts. Is Twitter exacerbating this linguistic snafu? Pitchfork doesn't care about that. What it does care about is the strengths and weaknesses of Twitter's ability to foster conversation beyond its 140 character limit. The article defends Twitter's function as a conversation starter and likens its Tweets to, ."..the grease on the discourse axle...By itself Twitter often works best as a dip into a mood pool, an ambient swash of thoughts on a given topic." The article made the important distinction of saying that Twitter performs best when used as a conversation starter rather than a substitute for conversation itself. Whether it actually gets used in that way remains another matter. At least now, though, there's a sign pointing in the right direction, 140 characters at a time.

McMansions: The Solution

2009-04-20T22:09:00.000-07:00

As covered before in this blog, McMansions have become problematic in Los Angeles and other cities around the country for various reasons. My primary argument against McMansions is an aesthetic one because that's what I care and know the most about. There are various socio-economic arguments against the McMansion that I can't begin to explain, so I have provided links to people who can explain it. This last post in the series, while subtitled "The Solution" isn't meant to be a definitive answer, but one possibility. My primary concern/wish, as stated earlier, is stopping the construction of large and unattractive homes.

In Los Angeles, steps have been taken to make my wish come true. Thank you, Design Fairy! You really do exist!

As reported by Curbed LA back in May of 2008, homeowners got City Hall to pass an ordinance restricting the square footage of houses based on their lot size. Some residents feel the ordinance is too restrictive, claiming that the city is enacting a "one size fits all" policy that favors a minority while ignoring the needs of the majority. My argument would be that people feel entitled to more space than they actually need and the government is not banning large homes altogether, but ones that are disproportionately large compared to their lot size.

As early as 2005, the New York Times heralded the end of the McMansion craze for several reasons. One of which is that the cost of furnishing/maintaining such huge houses is enormous and beyond people's means. A second reason is attributed to the rise in interest rates, which makes home buying a large home less feasible. Lastly, and most telling, is that the large homes have become associated with greed, especially after the recent economic corporate scandals.

The consumerist tendency of the American people seems to being tempered a bit by economic woes and (gasp) maybe even environmental ones too. One of the last reasons the New York Times cites as a reason for the return to smaller homes was the perception that building large homes is wasteful and damaging to the environment. Incidentally, these are some of the very arguments being brought against U2 guitarist, the Edge, who wants to build a large cliff side house in Malibu, California.

The downsizing trend can be seen in KB Home, one of the largest home builders in the country. As a Fortune article highlights, the construction boom of the early 90's has died down and people no longer desire or can afford the larger houses they once did. Responding to the home buyers' new needs and desires, KB Home is shrinking the size of their homes and lowering the cost.

Regardless of my aesthetic opinions, I think the slow phasing out of McMansions is a positive sign. One of my primary beefs with the McMansions is that, while ugly in their own right, their presence also mars the surrounding neighborhood and shows a certain selfishness on the home owner's part. They are are thinking only of what they want and not how such changes will affect the rest of the community, both aesthetically and economically.

I am a big believer in moderation and harmony. Home owners' desires to have smaller homes, to me, represents a greater social consciousness. People are not only considering their own needs, but problems like the environment, or neighbors' property values, or how much space a family really needs to live comfortably. Sure, some floor plans are shrinking because people simply can't afford anything bigger, but there are still many others who are able to go big and choose not to. Sometimes looking at the big picture allows one to see that it's the small things that are most important.

Lexicography

2009-04-10T13:29:00.001-07:00

Before I get into a whole spiel about lexicography, I'd like to promote the site that taught me about it; TED. TED is not a person, but an organization whose name is an acronym for Technology, Entertainment, and Design. "It was started in 1984 as a conference bringing together people from those three worlds. Since then its scope has become ever broader. The annual conference now brings together the world's most fascinating thinkers and doers, who are challenged to give the talk of their lives (in 18 minutes)."

The TED site currently hosts over 200 presentations given at their conferences with speakers including, Dave Eggers, Jane Goodall, Mike Rowe and John Hodgeman. All of the talks are available for free viewing and download, both as video and audio. As their motto states, the purpose of their organization is not to make money, but to continually support, "Ideas worth spreading."

The inspiration for this particular post comes from a talk give by Erin McKean at TED 2007. Her talk can be viewed here. I had no idea who she was before watching the video. As it turns out, Erin McKean is the editor in chief of the American Oxford Dictionary. What a bad ass.

The whole premise of her talk is that dictionaries in their current paper form are completely outmoded and limited in their ability to describe and define the English language. She stated that the dictionary's structure and content hasn't really changed since the reign of Queen Victoria. By content, I don't mean the words themselves haven't been updated, but the information given about them hasn't changed (i.e. pronunciation, etymology, classification). Paper dictionaries, because they are necessarily limited by their number of pages, are also limited in the number of words they have. This, of course, means words get left out. And because dictionaries are considered the ultimate source for "official words," if a word isn't in a dictionary, it is assumed it isn't a "real" word. Well, this just isn't true. It just means there isn't enough room for all the words.

McKean argues that lexicographers, or people who compile dictionaries, have been relegated to the role of traffic cop. They are the deciders of what goes in the dictionary and what stays out. The problems with that is that, "If you have artificial restraints, it leads to arbitrary distinctions and a skewed world view." A word being in a dictionary gives it the distinction of being more "real" or "official" than a word not in the dictionary.

The solution to all this is to get dictionaries of off paper and online. Her brainchild, which was not covered in her talk, is an online dictionary she created called Wordnik. It's still in beta stage, but the idea of the dictionary is to scan through all manner of written material like books, magazines, comics, blogs, etc. and find new words and enter them into Wordnik. The sentence the word was used in, as well as its definition and frequency of use is also included. Not only that, but there will be an audio clip that pronounces the word properly. Words can also be submitted and defined by the average person a la Wikipedia. It is slightly different in that before a new word gets posted, it has to go through review by the Wordnik people.

While a courageous project and one I giddily anticipate using, I still think it is flawed and I'm not sure there will ever be any solution to it. As stated before, dictionaries are looked at as authoritative texts that allow people to check a word's meaning and usage. While certainly not inclusive, it gives people a guide and shows them what is generally accepted in everyday speech. Language and speech is fluid and adaptive to the environment in which its used. One wouldn't go into a job interview and say, "Yo, how's it hangin', bro?" Generally, a person would say, "Hello, nice to meet you. How are you?" The normative, everyday speech in the second example is the type found in current paper dictionaries. If a word like "yo" were looked up in Wordnik, thirty different definitions and uses might be posted there. How would a person know in what context to use the word? Too many choices can lead to ambiguity and confusion. The great thing about paper dictionaries is that they limit the options and create a guide for standard speech. People know they are safe if they use a word found in Webster's. Can they have that same assurance with something like Wordnik where "slang" words are defined right next to "proper" ones.

The point of Wordnik is to respond to the immense fluidity of language. Word spelling, pronunciation, and definition change over time. Shakespeare is always the go-to guy for examples in the evolution of language. In the course of 400 years the English language has changed immensely. Pronouns like thee, thou, and thine are not in common use anymore, therefore, they are not in dictionaries. If old words are saved and kept in dictionaries, as is suggested in this Times article, are we embracing the fluidity of language or stagnating it? Here comes the tree analogy. Language can be thought of as a tree. The tree keeps growing and new branches and leaves sprout. Where do the old ones go? Many of them fall off or need to be cut down. Language changes and sometimes words disappear and sometimes for good reason. If we stop and keep every word alive, the many grammatical and syntactical systems now in place would become useless. It would be a kind of language anarchy, with no word or rule any more important than the other.

Located in the FAQ section of Wordnik is a question that asks,

"I looked up a word in Wordnik that I know isn't right, and you have tons of sentences for it. What gives?"

The answer:

Here at Wordnik, we show you what people actually do with language, not what we'd like them to do. We think it's important to show real information about every word—even the ones that aren't considered standard. However, just because a word is in Wordnik doesn't mean you have to use it!

The problem with the anything goes approach to defining words, as the answer readily agrees with, is that it does not conform to any standard. Without any standard, how will people know what to use? What if they use one of the more obscure definitions of a word? The person they are writing or speaking to will not understand what they are saying. There will be confusion.

I am always questioned by people about being such a stickler for grammar. My grammar is far from perfect; comma usage is the bane of my existence, but I am more particular than the average person. "Why?" people ask me. "What difference does it make if I end a sentence with a preposition or say who instead of whom?" Well, it does make a difference. Rules of language and grammar are created so that there is a standard form of communication everyone can understand. What if everyone followed their own set of traffic laws? Car accidents would be a lot more frequent. If everyone followed their own rules of grammar or defined words however they wanted, people would not understand each other. No one would agree on what a word means and it would probably fall out of use simply for being so confusing. Even though it's limiting, some set of standards for word definitions has to be created, otherwise people couldn't communicate. The shift in definition of a word for one person doesn't mean everyone else in the world is caught up and knows that new definition. Change takes time.

Putting definitions on the Internet may speed up a word's evolution, but that still means someone has to input and decide the definitions on the site. There is still a governing body, there are still lexicographers deciding what a word's primary definition and the primacy is based on usage. I don't think popularity necessarily equates correctness. Just because more people say "Who did you go with?" instead of "With whom did you go?" it doesn't make the first one correct. It just means more people use it. Will the rules for the objective case eventually change, rendering whom obsolete? Maybe. But currently we have a system in place that states in certain situations whom is the proper word. If Wordnik reports that "who" is the more common usage, is it going to ignore the grammatical rule that states whom should be used when it is the object of a preposition? Is it going to promote the popularly used choice over the standardized correct one?

It's a very tricky thing to decide how best to document a language because it cannot be easily contained or distilled. It is a constantly shifting entity that is open to and thrives on change. Many words in use today are the result of breaks with "standardized rules." People get lazy and combine two words or drop the syllables at the end of a long word, or a decree is made that says the sound of the vowels should change. Many times popular usage is the reason behind a change in definition. The vastness and mercurial nature of language makes it difficult to document and presents a unique set of challenges to whomever attempts such a task. My criticisms of Wordnik are not meant to discourage or rally against the idea, (I'm actually very excited about it) but to continue the discussion on words and language and definition, and figure out who to get along with each other when there are 200 words to say hello.

For more information on Erin McKean and other kick-ass word related websites, please explore the links below:

TED Profile
Erin McKean's Blog: The Dictionary Evangelist
Verbatim: The Language Quarterly Language and linguistics for the layperson since 1974
Wordnik: Erin McKean's online dictionary

Crank 2: High Voltage

2009-04-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

Jason Statham has become an action star ever since his breakout role in Guy Ritchie's, Snatch. If one looks over his IMDB page there is a long list of action flicks, most of which are negligible. He's been in three Transporter movies and is now starring in a second Crank movie, reprising his role as Chev Chelios. I must admit, I haven't seen a Transporter movie in it's entirety, nor have I seen the first Crank. I did, however, see the last half hour of the second Transporter on cable once. I don't feel too bad for not seeing them because the movies' trailers all look the same.

Here's the trailer for Crank 2: High Voltage:

The new movie picks up right where the old one left off. Chev Chelios gets his organs harvested by some Asian crime syndicate. The doctors only manage to swap out Chelios's heart with a temporary one before he wakes up and kills them. The charge on Chelio's temporary heart battery will only last for an hour. Tension and high speed chases ensue.

The premise is a bit silly, but this isn't a movie intent on delivering realism. I can accept that. The trailer promises a lot of action and a few laughs, which is the standard model for most action movies. The problem I have with the laughs portion of the movie is that it seems to stem from a silly, camp kind of comedy rather than dark or dry humor. I have nothing against camp, but when its coming from a grizzled man who has to electrocute himself to stay alive, I'm not sure the comedy will play off that well.

The one scene in the trailer that had me most worried about the comedy aspect of the movie is when Chelios asks the gangster guys to juice him up with their car battery. It looks like another one of those, "Man, that white boy be crazy, ese!" type moments where the hard ass thugs who were about to beat up the protagonist find a new sense of respect for him because he attached jumper cables to his nipples. Its been done before and is a standard comedy trope that wore out its welcome a long time ago.

The action sequences have a lot of quick cuts, which also worries me. While action scenes need a lot of camera movement to keep the momentum going, they can also be used to make boring shots look more exciting than they are. (i.e. MTV's Cribs. How do you make a shot of a refrigerator filled with Crystal Light more interesting? Lots of jump cuts.)

If I may take a minute to be artsy, I think that the movie would be a lot more interesting if it actually took place in real time. Chelios only has an hour to live. Why not make an hour long movie? Or, give him two hours to live, and make the movie two hours. It could have a "24" like format, playing out in real time. The story would then be driven be a very real sense of tension and not have to be so reliant on explosions and car chases. I have nothing against chases, but ninety minutes of explosions does not make a movie. Putting my high brow tendencies aside, I think this will be a pleasing enough popcorn flick, albeit one that relies too heavily on formula and easy laughs.

B-

McMansions: The Threat

2009-03-25T22:29:00.000-07:00

As my previous posts clearly states, McMansions are hideous and a complete affront to people with even a moderate sense of aesthetics. In this post, I will elaborate on why, aesthetically, McMansions are so horrid and discuss their effect on the social behavior of their residents.

To again reference my previous post, it's obvious that McMansions are pretty similar. The floor plans may change from house to house and the color of the kitchen tile may be different, but they're all, essentially, variations on a theme, and a bland theme at that. As far as I can tell, what the below photo shows is a lot of white houses with fake Spanish tile roofs. Even if you like the style of the house, which can be alluring, does the house still retain that allure when there are thousands like it just down the street?

While McMansions are being built all around the country, I feel that Los Angeles is the most tragic/ironic victim of the trend. Los Angeles has long been considered one of the most architecturally inventive cities in the country. The trend can be traced back to at least the early 1900's with the Arts and Crafts style homes built by Greene & Greene. In the 1920's Austrian architect, Rudolph Schindler, expiremented with poured concrete and tilt wall construction while building his King's Road House. Los Angeles is also home to Frank Lloyd Wright's textile block experiments including the Freeman House, the Ennis-Brown House, and the Alice Millard House. Famed architect, Richard Neutra, also built many homes in the Silver Lake and Griffith Park area, including the Lovell House. The building trend continued into the 50's and 60's with the advent of Googie architecture and the Case Study Program, not to mention John Lautner and his beloved Chemosphere and the Sheats-Goldstein House(perhaps you've seen them in movies...Charlie's Angels, The Big Lebowski, Fiona Apple's music video for the song, "Criminal."). Now, Frank Gehry calls Santa Monica home and builds giant binoculars along the beach. And this is only a partial list.

The point of all this is to say that Los Angeles is an architecturally diverse city that is losing its heritage and identity by succumbing to prefab housing. Fullerton, a city south of Los Angeles, in Orange County, has a great architectural heritage site, highlighting all the styles that have flourished in Fullerton, as well as Los Angeles. These homes are the very kind that are being replaced by the McMansion and their "boxy is better" aesthetic. Even if you don't like the styles showcased on the site, you have to admit they're different. Each one has its own set of characteristics and details. There is a uniqueness to each style that is lacking in McMansion designs. If nothing else, one can at least argue against the McMansion because of its uniformity.

The ironic part of the Los Angeles McMansion construction boom is that many of the homes are built by KB Home, who as of 2001, was the no. 2 home builder in the country. What's so ironic about this? The "B" in KB home stands for Broad, as in Eli Broad, the Los Angeles based philanthropist who, most recently, gave Los Angeles' Museum of Contemporary Art a $30-million bailout. He is also the namesake and chief financial contributor of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art's new, Broad Contemporary Art Museum. I find it odd that a man who makes his money building pre-fabricated homes would also collect Jeff Koons sculptures and Andy Warhol paintings. It's like being a cardiologist who smokes. He has given millions to fund the arts in Los Angeles, so I guess I shouldn't complain.

The building of tract homes is, of course, not just limited to L.A. and neither are the problems associated with them. As stated before, one of the major problems with McMansions is how aesthetically displeasing they are. A 2006 Slate article reviews some of the major design flaws associated with McMansions. Another article, this one in Newsweek, tells of how ill designed McMansions are and how home buyers are beginning to recognize this fact.

"I think there's a return to an interest in modernism," says New York architect Deborah Berke, "and I would call it warm modernism, not sleek minimalism." She argues that a younger generation, steeped in a love of cool design and loft living and ready for a first house, isn't going to buy a mini-McMansion.

And it's not on the style conscious that are against these big homes. "The eco-conscious hate big houses, too, with the energy cost of heating and cooling all those big empty rooms."

The last issue I have with McMansions, although it is a problem with suburban sprawl in general, is the high level of obesity in the suburbs. With miles and miles of homes, and no urban center in sight, people are more reliant on cars. More driving means less walking and less walking means bigger waistlines. Housing divisions rarely include any sort of civic center. The formerly ubiquitous Main Street U.S.A. is slowly disappearing and being replaced by malls. This trend began in the 1960's with the advent of the shopping center.

McMansion communities don't have a main street containing local stores. Instead, the local shopping center, located outside the subdivision, has everything a person could need. The problem with this model is that the shopping center is its own entity, distanced from the surrounding neighborhood by a giant parking lot and generally deserted when not open. If the stores were on a city's main street they would be integrated into the community and would have local foot traffic. People would recognize each other on the street, perhaps converse. Larger shopping centers, because they serve a larger area, lack the personal intimacy of a local main street. While all this may seem like nostalgia for some 1950's suburban ideal, there is truth to the idea that architecture and urban planning affect how people behave/socialize and how that behavior, in turn, affects the fate of the community.

A site hosted by Cornell has a list critical essays outlining the history of urban planning from 1794, all the way up to World War I.

A post on ZNet argues that there is a correlation between urban sprawl and the growing obesity epidemic in the United States.

An article in the Atlantic talks about the rise in popularity of urban living and what this means for the once popular suburbs.

Bad design, potential health problems, and social interaction all play a role in the rise and fall of the McMansion. Now that the initial wow-factor of cheaply built homes is beginning to wear off, people are fighting against the McMansion. As always, Los Angeles is leading the trend with a series of laws prohibiting the huge houses to be built. This, along with other anti-McMansion trends, will be covered in the third and final post in this series.

McMansions: Identification

2009-03-22T15:25:00.000-07:00

This is the first in a series of posts about McMansions, urban planning, and the slow backlash against the Mc Mansions. The series will focus primarily on the Mc Mansion craze in Los Angeles, since that's where I live, but I believe the information will be relevant to anyone who lives in or around a Mc Mansion neighborhood (which, sadly, is everyone at this point).

Mc Mansions are probably one of the worst plagues brought upon this country since the introduction of smallpox. And, just like smallpox, there is little chance of escaping McMansions. They pop up everywhere, without warning. Suddenly, whole blocks are infested with unsightly houses towering over the rest of the neighborhood. In L.A., McMansions are quickly becoming the norm. Modest, post-war tract homes are being replaced by bland, boxy behemoths with no backyards and a front lawn paved over with concrete.

In developing neighborhoods, especially east of L.A., out towards Rancho Cucamonga, whole McMansion developments are being built. Vast tracts of land along the foothills are being covered in beige colored homes with burnt orange tiles roofs, and fluorescent green lawns. The uniformity of design, when looked at from afar, is disgusting. If you are unfamiliar with the Mc Mansions, please refer to the photos below, which I personally took. None of them are more than 10 minutes away from me. Watch out, they may be closer to you than you think.

Exhibit A

Classic McMansion. Notice the scale of the house compared to the others on the street. There is also a ridiculously sized porch overhang and unadorned, cinder block wall, topped with excessive grill work. Another staple of the McMansion is its lack of grace and proportion. The second story is not well integrated into the structure, but rather plopped on top. The lack of variation in form, especially in the roof line, make for a boring and unsightly mess in an otherwise pleasant block of houses.

Exhibit B

This house also has an unnecessarily large entry covering, as well as a heavily decorated door, complete with beveled glass. The columns and glass wall on the balcony are incongruous with the home's other design elements. The house's flat front also make it look imposing. Notice how the house to the left has a gable, giving the front of the house and the roof line more dimension. The McMansion is also completely stuccoed and painted a pale peach color, which is typical of their type.

Exhibit C

This McMansion, while unacceptable, is better than the previous two. Its entryway is not as ostentatious and its front yard is neatly landscaped. Still, it suffers from a flat, box front, non-descript color, and pushes the limit of its lot size. Notice how much smaller the McMansion's lawn is compared to its neighbor's. This McMansion has included some stonework, which gives the front some texture, but it placement seems arbitrary. Plus, I would put money on the fact that those stones are fake.

Battle of the Bands: Train vs. Foo Fighters

2009-03-21T18:08:00.000-07:00

It's always a surprise to go to a concert and see a band play covers of other people's music. A few months ago I saw of Montreal and the last two songs they played were, Take Me Out, by Franz Ferdinand and Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana. Needless to say, everyone went nuts when they played Smells Like Teen Spirit and some sweaty, psychedelic moshing occurred. It was most righteous. The songs were unexpected, but in no way clashed with the concert that preceded it. Good times were had by all, even by a group of girls who didn't look a day over 12. What possessed them to go to an of Montreal show is beyond me. How did they even know about them? It boggles my mind.

In 2008, the Foo Fighters played Wembley Stadium and covered a couple Led Zeppelin songs with some assistance from Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones. It was one of those concerts I would have given my left nut to see. I didn't get to see it live, but I did get to watch it on YouTube with both nuts intact. They played Rock n' Roll and Ramble On. I thought Taylor's vocals on Rock n' Roll were closer to Plant's than Dave's scream-o version of Ramble On. All in all, not a bad little set.

While watching the Foo Fighters on YoutTube I saw, over to the left side of my screen, a link to Train covering Whole Lotta Love, Ramble On, and Going to California. This was a big WTF moment for me. Never in a million years did I ever think I'd see soft rock sensation, Train, do a cover of Zeppelin. Well, this was an offer I couldn't refuse. I just had to see how Train frontman, Pat Monahan, compared to Led Zeppelin's, Robert Plant.

The man has got some pipes. He held his own, as did the band, and made the songs sound fresh and vibrant. And, as much as I love the Foo Fighters, I think Train did a better cover of Ramble On, even without the aid of Page and Jones. To prove it to you, I'm posting the links to the vids. I'd embed them, but I'm worried it would slow down the loading speed of the blog.

Foo Fighters- Ramble On
Foo Fighters- Rock n' Roll

Train- Ramble On
Train- Whole Lotta Love
Train- Going to California

WOWZA, WOWZA, WOWZA!
BONUS VIDEO!!!!
Train covering Aerosmith's, Dream On

Clothing wise, I think Pat Monahan looked ridiculous in the black tank top and ultra tight jeans, but I guess that's what the kids are into these days. Also, I think on at least one of these videos, it's Pat Monahan and some backing band, not Train.

17 Again

2009-03-20T22:57:00.000-07:00

I've decided to make movie reviews a regular part of my blog. Due to the economic downturn and my general lack of funds, the reviews will be based solely on the trailer. It's kind of gimmicky, but it's also really cheap to do, so why not? Also, I'm curious to see how my trailer reviews compare to critics who actually see the whole movie. Once official reviews come out, I might post a link to them.

My inaugural review will be on the Zac Efron vehicle, 17 Again. The movie also stars Matthew Perry, Leslie Mann, Thomas Lennon, and Michelle Trachtenberg. Here's the trailer:

If the trailer has you saying, "Hey, this looks kind of familiar," that's because it's a grab bag of cliched moments from other movies such as, Big, 13 Going on 30, Mrs. Doubtfire, It's a Wonderful Life, and Freaky Friday. It looks to be another one of those movies where a work-driven dad is too focused on success and ignores his family. It is only when trouble starts brewing at home does he realize he should have done things differently.

The story arc, according to the trailer, goes a litle something like this:
While hitting his emotional rock bottom and crossing a bridge at night, while it's raining (gee, i've never seen that before), Perry tries to save the wily, old janitor's life when it looks like he is going to jump off and commit suicide. Lo and behold, Perry's character falls off the bridge and into a magical time warp. When he gets back home, he finds himself to be 17 years old again. This is just what he needs to reconnect with his kids and relive his life the way it should have been the first time (aka learn important life lessons and explain said lessons in awkward monologues to his family just in time for a heart-warming, completely unearned happy ending). Take this line for the movie, for example: "It's not about me. It's about helping Alex and Maggie."

Matthew Perry seems to be playing his Chandler Bing character from Friends, except this time around he has two teenage kids. Thomas Lennon, of Reno 911! and The State fame, plays Perry's best friend and goofy partner in crime. Leslie Mann, a Judd Apatow movie regular (it helps to be married to the guy) plays Perry's wife. The real star, of course, is High School Musical heartthrob Zac Efron. He, again, gets to play the role of a completely neutered, plastic- skinned sex symbol. This time around he gets to tackle a guy and say witty lines like, "What are you wearing? You look like Clay Aiken." I guess the Clay Aiken bit is supposed to be a stab at self-aware, oh, so ironic comedy. It's a small diversion from the obvious fact that the guy just can't seem to get out of his pretty boy rut. Maybe he doesn't want to stretch beyond that comfort zone. Maybe he can't. His next movie is Footloose, afterall.

The only thing more unnatural looking than Efron's face (he would have been great in A.I.), is the movie's screenplay. As said earlier, it looks to be a by the numbers storyline with all the familiar plot points and superficial insights about family life; surly teenagers, a long-suffering wife, a wacky best friend, and a magical janitor. It has all the makings of a typical, feel-good movie, complete with requisite, Efron taking off his shirt moment. I think YouTube commenter, AboutTheMusicxo, said it best when she posted, "TAP THAT ;D." While she was probably referring to Zac Efron, it also aptly describes a movie whose creativity and hope for credibility were tapped out from the beginning.

Grade: C

All-Time Most Annoying/Useless Thing about Rolling Stone Besides Its Mere Presence:

2009-03-19T15:52:00.000-07:00

1. Their Top 100 Lists

Rolling Stone, like VH1 before it, has taken the easy way out and published yet another top 100 list. What are the geniuses at Rolling Stone ranking this time? The Top 100 People Who Are Changing America. Tina Fey and Kanye West are in the top ten, while the music industry's money-making marionette, Taylor Swift, graces us with her presence at number 100.

Previous Rolling Stones lists include, The 50 Greatest Artists of All Time, The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, and the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. (Don't think R. Kelly's, "I Believe I Can Fly" should be 406? Tough shit. Rolling Stone does. ) It's not that I have a problem with the rankings, which I couldn't care less about, it's the fact that Rolling Stone wastes 16 pages on it. Does the world really need another blurb about Danny Boyle? Do we really need another reminder about how he defied convention and brought racial prejudice to the forefront of American cinema(which he didn't)? No. If anything, Rolling Stone should have given another shout out to the grandaddy of all racially sensitive directors (which he isn't), Paul Haggis.

Arcade Fire is not going to gain any leverage in the music industry by getting named number 27 on this list, nor is Taylor Swift going to lose any cred by being named 100. If Rolling Stone is trying to shock its readers, they should do it by publishing interesting and relevant articles, not meaningless filler. Also, Gossip Girl actresses licking an ice cream cone on the cover? Really?

Serious Comedy

2009-03-18T18:55:00.000-07:00

One day I caught an episode of "Inside the Actor's Studio" with Mike Meyers and watched him talk about his theory of comedy and that the division of comedy into highbrow and lowbrow shouldn't exist. Comedy shouldn't be measured by its intellect, but its ability to get laughs. If a joke makes someone laugh, it's funny. Not everyone laughs at the same things, of course, but the idea behind his claim was that if a poop joke and a Tolstoy reference both get laughs, why should one be considered a better joke than the other? The two jokes merely have different means to achieving the same ends.

Well, his whole theory blew my mind because I had always been a bit of a comedy snob, especially when it came to movies. I'd take Wes Anderson over Adam Sandler. I like both, but thought there was something more complex and subtle to the jokes in Wes Anderson movies than that of the rather broad comedy of Adam Sandler. And maybe there is more subtlety to Wes Anderson movies, maybe even a bit of snobbishness, but does that mean the jokes are better/funnier? If a joke can get a laugh, who cares how it's done?

Some will argue that the complexity does matter and that, in Sandler's case, it doesn't take much talent to consistently play an angry man-child that makes funny voices. People say that just because something is yelled, it doesn't make it funny (a complaint often lodged against Will Ferrell). Well, all this started swirling, and continues to swirl in my head, and I had to really sit down and figure it out. Does yelling sometimes make things funny? My answer is yes. I wanted to show a scene from Old School where Will Ferrell keeps yelling, "We've gotta keep our composure, we've come too far!" Unfortunately, that clip seems to have been taken down from YouTube. Instead, I will submit a scene from "Wedding Crashers" where Will Ferrell keeps yelling for some meatloaf. If you've seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about.

The key phrase in the scene is, Ma! The meatloaf!" which gets repeated several times. And so, the issue morphs from being just about high and low brow comedy, but about what makes jokes/things funny. And, as any comic will tell you, it isn't only the joke that matters, but the delivery of the joke. On paper, a man yelling, "Ma! Can we get some meatloaf?" might not be read as being all that funny. But, when delivered in the right way, which I think Will Ferrell did, the line brings laughs.

Bringing it back to Sandler...He is the guy who can make strange voices and get laughs from it. Is it sophomoric humor based on simple premises? I don't think such labels are necessary or even fair. Again, the way comedy should be judged is by the laughs it gets. It doesn't matter how they are achieved. Those who say that because Sandler's comedy is so simple and stupid, that it can't be funny are being too serious about comedy, and are censoring themselves. They do not want to admit that they like something society considers simplistic. Mike Meyers, on "Inside the Actors' Studio", explains his views about the lack of judgement one should have while attempting and enjoying comedy.

As was stated earlier, jokes often live or die by their delivery. So often we find ourselves listening to a story someone claims is hilarious. "Wait, wait...You gotta hear this. It's hilarious..." The person gets through the story, starts busting up, and we, the listeners, are left completely in the dark about what was so funny about the story. The storyteller inevitably says, "I guess you had to have been there." That is a prime example of how important delivery is to a joke. When the storyteller is unable to duplicate the tone, cadence, and/or rhythm of a conversation closely enough, his/her audience does not share the same enthusiasm for the event. Or, perhaps you've found yourself re-tlling a joke you've heard and people don't laugh and you say, "Well, the comedian did it better" or, "He was funnier." Why, with the exact same joke, did one telling of it induce laughter and the other not? Delivery.

One comedian who gets derided a lot for being all energetic delivery and no material is Dane Cook. In 2006, AP ran an articled titled, "Is Dane Cook Actually Funny?" The article criticizes Cook for being a man of sounds rather than jokes.

Cook does possess a superior talent for sound effects, which greatly enhance his observations and storytelling. He can deftly impersonate the machine guns in the film “Heat,” the creaking sound of a secret passageway opening or the tumble of laundry in the dryer. In one routine, he gives lyrics to a car alarm.

It's true, Dane Cook does add a lot of sound effects in his stand-up. It is also part of what makes him funny to people. To his detractors, it may be the only reason he's funny. He isn't a comedian, but a wacky inflatable arm flailing tube man who also does a lot of noises. What is wrong with funny noises? If the noises garner laughs, if his delivery and timing are sharp enough that he can illicit a positive response from the audience, there should not be a problem. But, there is. Comedians like Cook are being judged on their material alone and not their delivery, which is a big part of what makes jokes work. Lack of material does not necessarily equal lack of quality, even though that seems to be the de rigeur opinion of critics everywhere.

The Los Angeles Times also featured an article about Cook and how he represents a general dumbing down of stand-up. Columnist Paul Brownfield said of Cook,

He's Seacrest-psyched, boy voted most likely. Cutest. Funniest. Coolest. For Cook, this is no ironic pose a la Andy Kaufman; it's a whole insufferable ethos, integral to the rise of his career. He's become huge by asserting that the comic mind does not come from alienation and restlessness but from adoration and social connection -- the comic as your instant-messaging best pal.

The article goes on to say that Cook's BFF persona is in direct contrast to the comics who have come before him, the ones whose personal strife became the source for their comedy (Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, Mitch Hedberg, etc.). "Comedy has traditionally sprung up as a reaction against oppression, internal and external -- from the pogrom to the contemporary neurosis. Cook's view flies in the face of what we know, generally, about every significant stand-up voice from Milton Berle on forward." Brownstein argues against Cook and says that his vacuous and superficial personality does not make for intelligent comedy. The wit and insight that used to come from comics like George Carlin is gone and has been replaced by Cook and jokes that revolve shitting on coats.

It's hard to argue against Brownstein's claim, especially after watching clips of Cook. He talks about ordering at Burger King, shitting on coats, watching a man get hit by a car. The material does not lend itself well to intellectual discussion. If a comedian lacks material or their material doesn't,"... [spring] up as a reaction against oppression..." does that make it any less funny? My answer to that is no. It is true, comedy has traditionally been a reaction to oppression. But, that doesn't mean it's sole purpose is to comment on the nature of man. As Mike Meyers proposes, comedy can be, and should be, allowed to be silly. Comedy that starts to take itself too seriously is not comedy. Comedy, like any other art form, changes form and purpose over time. Meyers' comedic sense seems to be derived from Surrealist and Dadaist theory, whose emphases were on freeing the unconscious mind and reevaluating the traditional labels given to art.

While Dane Cook and Adam Sandler don't have to be hailed as geniuses of comedy, it's unfair to label them as poster boys for the destruction of smart comedy. Comedy doesn't necessarily have to be smart. Comedy is meant to make people laugh. It can perform a secondary function as social commentator, but its success or importance shouldn't be measured based solely by that criteria, which is what's happening currently. As Robert Plant once said, "Does anyone remember laughter?"

P.S.

A History of Stand-Up Comedy according to About.com

A "MadTV" sketch mocking Dane Cook

Welcome...Again!

2009-03-17T16:51:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Finer Things Blog!

Originally titled, Faulty Diction, the blog was created to be a repository for any kind of writing I did. The blog worked well in that capacity, but I never referenced it for ideas as much as I had intended. Instead of scrapping what I believe to be an ingeniously titled blog, I am repurposing it to focus specifically on art and culture. The content will mainly consist of my trademark witty rhetoric, along with thought provoking discussions on subjects as varied as comedy, literature, music, and movies.

The blog's new title is inspired by an episode of The Office in which Pam, Oscar, and Toby start an exclusive club that discusses art and literature during lunch break. The name of the club is called, The Finer Things Club. Unlike their club, however, there will be no discussion of Angela's Ashes, though I hold nothing against Frank McCourt. If you would like to watch the hilarity of The Office and, specifcally, the episode from which the blog name is inspired, please watch the sixth episode of the fourth season titled, "Branch Wars."

Also, please do not think that my promise to, "discuss and promote the finer things in life" means that this blog will in any way resemble the cutesy pretension of Gwyneth Paltrow's blog, GOOP.

one day, while bored

2009-01-20T00:05:00.000-08:00

a child waits outside a department store and plays with an ashcan. crushed cigarettes become volcanoes or meteors and the sand becomes a desert and/or some intergalactic soil. the sand still has the traces of the store's emblem that was stamped in at the beginning of the day. It's pattern captivates the boy and the pattern becomes something more to him; a sign and message that he must follow. He wishes there were more ashcans around, so the entire message could be read. the boy walks out from under the overhang of the department store roof. He looks left and right for another ashcan. There is none in site, the boy retreats back to the shade of the overhang. a man passes and is about to but out his cigarette, smoked down to the filter. he, instead, gives it to the boy to play with, perhaps even talks to the child and plays with him there before going into the store.

the boy's teeth are too big for his mouth, especially the upper incisors. the man guesses that those are the boy's adult teeth and that is why they look so out of scale with the rest of his mouth. The man notices this, but does not know what to make of his observation. He asks the boy about his teeth. a conversation between them begins. perhaps about beef jerky or candy bars. the man wants to know if the boy is out in front of the store selling either or both of those things. the boy pulls out some softened chocolate from his pockets. It is melted along the aluminum wrapper. The man declines and the boy, too, decides the chocolate is not for him and tosses it into the ashcan. to be continued (figured out)...

info-mercial

2009-01-07T12:31:00.001-08:00

story/character sketches based on well known info-mercial characters/scenarios.

frustrated woman can't open a jar
window blinds are too high to dust
bag won't fit all of person's belongings
knife dull- can't cut or accidentally cuts a person's finger
vacuum too heavy to lift upstairs.
old person lost in hallway- needs light fast.
someone who is "always tired of..."

teeth and nails

2009-01-07T12:27:00.000-08:00

where do fingernails and teeth come from? how strange it is to have these things come out of our bodies. they are attached, but how? how do eyes stay where they are?

blood flow

2009-01-07T12:26:00.000-08:00

when someone is sleeping, it appears that their ear is twitching/wiggling, but it is actually blood being pumped through the neck that makes the ear flutter.

In defense of used books

2008-11-25T22:02:00.000-08:00

An article about used bookstores and one man's love of antique, inscribed books. What a sensitive bad ass.

Read the article here.

a girl, a boy, and a car

2008-07-10T23:42:00.000-07:00

this is their story...

Undone

2008-07-02T22:12:00.000-07:00

A young woman waits on the corner for the signal to change. She is wearing a summer dress. It is white with thin straps and a blue ribbon that cinches the dress around her waist. On the left strap of the dress is a cloth pin in the shape of a small red bird. The young woman considers the bird to be what makes the dress.

Her pride in the dress shows as she waits on the corner. She stands straight, her right foot set a full stride ahead of her left; she is in a pose indicating strength and motion. Her right palm rests against the light post, her fingers arched slightly. Only the tips touch the pole.

A businessman walks up behind her. He is on a cell phone and speaking loudly. The man's voice is everywhere, invasive, like a brisk wind mussing her hair. She steps closer to the edge of the curb and away from the man, keeping the small bird on her dress as visible as possible. More people gather around her at the corner; a small boy and his mother and a group of middle aged women. They are all talking, all fighting for attention of a petty sort. The young woman edges even closer to the curb.
The signal changes. The traffic stops. The young woman looks over the stopped drivers and their cars. The gazes vary, but each seem boredom and disinterested. The young woman imagines herself crossing the street and the wonderment her presence will incite. Look at that lovely young woman, she imagines them saying. And that dress; it was made for her and she for it. She looks as delicate as that bird on her dress, that little one just below her shoulder. Yes, yes, she and that bird are really something.

The young woman steps out onto the street, making sure to walk well ahead of the crowd behind her. Her sandals slap hard against the asphalt with every step. She looks straight ahead to the light post on the other side of the street. That is her exit, her departure from the world of onlookers. She will be gone and they will scarcely remember what they saw. And in this way she will give them something special; in this way she will be adored. She will be the girl who, if nothing else, had a beautiful bird on her dress.

The young woman reaches the other corner and steps up onto the curb. She resists looking back at those she has passed. The young woman presses the dress against her body, flattening any fabric that may have become crumpled in the walk across the street. She does not feel her pin as she smooths out her skirt. She looks down and it is not there. It must have fallen off as she crossed the street. She looks back, but does not see it. The bird is gone. The young woman begins to cry and runs down the block. She will have to face the next corner looking plain; plain and alone.

preach it, brother

2008-06-03T20:08:00.000-07:00

david foster wallace tells it like it is in a 2005 commencement address.

bird is the word

2008-06-01T23:44:00.000-07:00

an article on words and how awesome they sound. you best believe...

taylor prefontaine

2008-05-30T20:45:00.000-07:00

is it just me or does taylor hawkins from the foo fighters look like steve prefontaine?

steve

taylor (to dave's left)

miranda july

2008-05-23T01:55:00.000-07:00

could she be any cuter?

thesis

2008-05-22T01:01:00.000-07:00

comedy

interlude (three lives...)

tragedy

i'm blinking off and on and off again

2008-05-21T22:55:00.000-07:00

Outside the motel window, he can hear the traffic rushing down the freeway. it is steady and persistent, like a wind through the trees. He steps out onto the small motel balcony. he can feel the dust beneath his feet. he lefts his left foot; blackened. he sets it back down on the ground. He is drinking tap water from a plastic cup given to him by the motel. There are three others, still unused sitting, on the counter of the bathroom sink. The water is warm. he takes one last drink and tosses the water over the balcony, holds onto the cup. The water splashes over a patch of tall grass directly below. A stream or drainage canal runs along side the motel. It is overgrown with grass, its banks obscured. The man is unsure if there is even water flowing. He cannot hear the familiar rush of running water. It is silent in the early morning hours, the sun not yet peering over the walls of the distant freeway.

On the other side of the stream is a parking lot; asphalt worn down to mere gravel. A large truck crunches over the aggregate. The man finds the noise comforting; assuring. He tries to mimic the noise with his teeth but cannot. The truck parks at the end of the lot closest to the stream. The boundary between parking lot and stream is unclear. The grass has filled in the gaps. The truck's driver may have tumbled into the ravine had he driven another foot forward. The steepness of the stream's banks is masked by the grass, tall and still in the morning air with not even a cricket sounding.

A man gets out of the truck and walks toward a diner at the far end of the lot. It is a 24 hour diner, as indicated by their neon sign, red and half aglow. The man standing on the motel balcony tries to follow the other man's movement through the diner; find his booth. The diner's windows, though large, do not allow the man to watch as he desires. The man looks into the empty cup of water and shakes it to gather any remaining drops together. He wishes he hadn't tossed the water out. He thinks about getting more, but he doesn't want to track in dirt. It's not right, he thinks.

(Notes: wants to eat at diner. order cooked cinnamon apples. something allures him. tie in stream creek- find significance. girlfriend is in bathroom. in tub. hears water splash occasionally. thinks about her. the weight of her head on his shoulders/ chest. the trust it takes to fall asleep on someone. unspoken connection. cannot fall asleep on her. are they more apart than together? is she rushing things by following asleep on him? kids play in stream. drains tub, water can be heard outside. sun comes up. wind like sound from traffic. what is he wearing? figure out diner.

the man is wearing plaid boxers and a v-neck undershirt. he can feel the cold air against the small patch of skin the shirt leaves exposed.

girlfriend is in the bathrom/tub. he hears her yell, godamnit. walks back into room. smells something burnt. asks, while still on balcony, have you been...walks into bathroom. have i been what? nothing, he replies. i was going to ask if you were smoking. he looks down to see a row of extinguished matches sitting on the edge of the tub along with a half filled cup of orange juice. i spilled juice in the tub. that's why i yelled. yes, i can see. you're floating in pulp. that's why i always get no pulp. (perhaps g/f's name is norma.)

she is sitting the the tub, legs spread as far as the tub will allow, knees, like peaks, cresting just out of the water. The water is murky with soap and dead skin, fallen off and floating. the man sits on the toilet next to the bathtub. sticks his right hand in, swirls the water, finds the sounding rippling water comforting. He splashes the water on his girlfriend's chest. they laugh.

a bucket of ice, the one left in the room by the motel, is sitting atop the toilet tank. a small bottle of orange juice is inside. it floats now that most of the ice has melted to water. a man picks out a piece of ice, rubs it along his g/f's thigh. stop it, she says. don't be a jerk. sorry, he says. lets the ice cube go. it plunks into the tub. she sighs, swishes the water with her feet, pushing the ice cube away from her. it swirls around the tub. she leans her head sideways toward the man, still sitting on the toilet. she puts her hand on the tub's ledge, then his thigh. she rubs his knee. it tickles the man. he squirms. again, they both laugh.

get in, she says.
i can't. my feet are dirty.
that's the point. you don't get into a tub if you're clean.
look at my feet. he lifts a foot onto his knee. shows the sole to his g/f.
you're right, that's gross.
she rests her hand on his, pulls it toward her. leans her head on it. feels wet hair. odd sensation (DESCRIBE).
should i get out?
it's up to you.
she looks at him.
let me see your hand, he says
her flesh is wrinkled from the water. he traces along the ridges with his fingers. wait a couple more hours. you're not fully pickled.
she smiles. he edges away from her, bored.
where are you going? she aks
i don't know. bed, i guess.
he leaves her wading in the tub, and listens to her splashing as he goes back to the balcony. he look down to the tall grass and a small patch of bushes. he hears a light rustling of branches. a boy if playing outside with a stick, making his way through the grass. it goes up half his chest. The boy picks up a few rocks and throws them in the direction of the parking lot and a tall light pole at its perimeter. Some of the rocks hit the pole with a loud clang. it is a sound of victory for the boy. he jumps every time he makes a hit....

hears major splashes of water from bathroom. girlfriend is getting out. (edna?) he heads inside, rubs his feet vigorously on carpet. would rater have dirt on floor than on sheets. climbs into bed, covered by only a sheet. he is on the far ide, farthest from bathroom. turns on small, bedside wall sconce. She comes out of the bathroom naked, a towel wrapped round her hair. she is still wet from he bath. dry me off, will ya? she says. She walks toward the bed carrying another towel. she crawls onto the bed and sits astride him. he can feel her weight on his stomach; the pressure he body inflicts ad the shallow breaths his lungs are now forced to take. She gives him the extra towel and begins to dry her off. he can feel the water's dampness soak through the sheets. he is becoming cold. he tries her off faster now, rubbing with speed and effort. once her front is dry she turns around, sits facing away. she indicates she wants her hair dried. he pulls the towel off her hair. she slumps, lowering her head closer to him. her hair is clumped in thick strands like rope. it is dark; black. He squeezes the strands as if wringing a mop. she mews. ow, not so hard. he lightens up. scrunches the hair at its roots, rubs the strands from side to side. he is sprayed, on occasion, by loose droplets. it feels like a mist, like a gentle rain. his fingers grow tired, but he enjoys the spray. She turns back around, facing him now. and lies down on top of him. her body subsides, hangs off to the right of his. her naked, right thigh is all the remains of top of him. She adjusts herself, nestles her head into his shoulder. Her hair is still wet. he can feel it on his chest; on the patch of skin exposed by the v-neck undershirt. he is cold, uncomfortable. he can not move. he looks to his right, to the balcony. he hears the last of the bathwater drain in a loud slurp. he imagines the small whirlpool forming at the bottom of the tub. there is a gurgling noise outside the room. it is the sound of rushing water. drained bathwater, now in the stream. The noise is carried inside by the winds from the freeway, the sound of cars whirring and cutting against the air; a tear and ripple through the silence. His girlfriend, now asleep on top of him is now asleep. her breathing is deep. she exhales at regular intervals. he, then, exhales; his labored breathe is out of sync with hers. the pale blue light of morning gives way to the piercing yellow of the afternoon. he squints at the coming sunlight and exhales yet again, unsure of when his next breath will come.) (fix time shifts/time table) tie in diner or cut it out. tie in stream
somehow).

make story trilogy: boy at stream, man at hotel overlooking stream, man in truck at diner. (man told to follow the river, it runs parallel to the freeway, get off at certain exit.) truck scares the boy. he runs away (use boy from "there is much to be made"). story takes place in small town or freeway exit, not even town, just a rest stop. plains, dry. flat space. long views into nothing.

WTF

2008-05-21T02:48:00.000-07:00

is jessica walter doing on the new "beverly hills: 90210"? she was lucille bluth for fuck's sake. she has no business being on some shitty cw teen melodrama. mitch hurwitz, if he were dead, would be turning in his grave.

why i'm single

2008-05-18T14:29:00.000-07:00

i love books more than boobs. (that's not entirely true. let's face it, boobs are pretty awesome). also, i might be too quirky.

There is Much to be Made

2008-05-16T19:25:00.000-07:00

story of a young boy playing outside, in the front yard/driveway. he lives on a hill. the street curves up and around; out of sight. coming up from around the bend is a stream of water; sudsy. someone is washing their car up the hill. the boy cannot see the source. be begins to collect leaves/small branches/dirt from beside the garage. he means to dam the water. make small pools out of it along the curb; a play land. he is moderately successful. the water's flow is constant. it braids and twists as it goes downhill. sometimes runs clear; sometimes runs sudsy. the day ends when the water stops flowing or when the water increases and washes the dam away. trickle can be heard as water falla into the storm drain/gutter. it echoes. the space is hollow. large enough for a small boy to play in. he peers down into the gutter. sees tennis balls/ frisbee/ coke cans. a car comes down the hill. its engine is loud. the boy jumps out of the street and up the driveway and past the gate into his backyard. He hides behind the house's air conditioning unit. the fan blows and spins in great, hot gusts; musses the boy's hair. he watches as the car passes; a large brown truck. it clanks and rumbles. The boy wants to return to his stream, but does not. he watches from a distance, not wanting to be seen. someone knows of his dam. his city has been found/tarnished. he picks up a rock and throws it in the direction of the dam. it flies over the low gate and into the street, missing the dam. it ricochets into the street and into a small patch of daisies in the neighbor's yard. the boy is satisfied. he has made his peace. he goes inside the house intent on reciting his afternoon.

boobs

2008-04-11T14:45:00.000-07:00

he said her breasts hung flat, like tears, perpetually suspended in sad defeat.

john, ted, ben, and the great taco wars

2008-04-04T19:10:00.000-07:00

embedded videos are tacky. be classy and click on the following links:

+ ted leo covering kelly clarkson and the yeah yeah yeahs. (don't ask)

+ john c. reilly being a bad ass.

+ ben gibbard's new side project, just jazzin. (it's totally legit)

+ say no to drugs. say yes to tacos.

a novel idea

2008-04-03T23:09:00.000-07:00

"It's raining tonight...how it floods the heart in the most appropriate seasons of our lives." -- r.b.

"groovatoid!" exclamation one might have used in the '70's.- j.b.

+ a story that revolves around long sleeve hawaiian shirts. a new formal dress attire. tired of canadian tuxedo- all denim, a new competitor in the fashion industry arrives. ties are soon to follow.

+ story that includes a man who is a retired lumberjack/carpenter. makes things out of wood. makes toilet out of wood. sells it to good friend who is a fisherman. uses it as an anchor for his boat. results are mixed. gets lost at sea for several days.

breathe out, so i can breathe you in

2008-03-25T00:03:00.001-07:00

the rattle of an air vent as the a/c or heater turns on. loose screws, the rattle and vibration of metal; the flow, the breath, the inhalation, if in a room with a dropped ceiling or closed door. the seams of the room
rattle and shift. expanded and rustled, resting back into place. the sound of ceiling panels lifting for a second; suspension followed by gravity's reclamation of what's rightfully his.

pretentious bullshit or sensory recollection? who the fuck knows.

Links of Note: Los Angeles History

2008-03-22T00:43:00.000-07:00

+ Wrigley Field in Los Angeles. True story.

+ CBS Studios: Baseball Capital of L.A.

bakersfield blues

2008-03-19T23:23:00.000-07:00

they are in the car, on the freeway. he rolls down her window. her hair, freshly combed, thrashes about-- onto her lips, into her mouth-- sticking to her lip gloss. she doesn't move, he doesn't ask, a bird craps on the windshield.

dewy faces

2008-03-18T17:22:00.000-07:00

"You haven't complimented my dewy face yet."

"Oh, um. Your face looks dewy."

"Thanks. I gave myself a facial this morning."

"Ah."

+

Ice cream cone in hand, she sits down, plunking the hand holding the ice cream over the chair next to her like a lumberjack throwing down a heavy axe. "So, how's life?" she says.

michael showalter

2008-01-28T23:54:00.000-08:00

ran across a funny interview with michael showalter of The State and Stella fame. Here's a sample:

MS: I'm writing a memoir. I'm four pages in. I start with my first memory, which is kicking my uncle in the balls. I was four.

AVC: How'd he take it?

MS: Not well. He committed suicide. It's all starting to make sense now, right? You see the layers being peeled off the onion. My first memory was of me kicking him in the balls, and it did not go well. It was the first of many awkward life moments. You see the layers of meaning there, right? He ended up killing himself, and maybe I've thought about that too at some point. Maybe I have something to say about that later in the story. I'm building a patchwork quilt, see?

+ full article here: http://www.avclub.com/content/interview/michael_showalter

vending machine story

2008-01-03T22:06:00.000-08:00

there's a trick to picking a snack from the vending machine when someone is behind you, waiting. one can't be too decisive while picking a snack. i always pause, consider my options, rub either the dollar bill or spare quarters between my fingers. i don't do it obsessively; as if trying to start a fire by the sheer friction of my rubbing. i rub the money together with a light touch. i find coin rubbing to be abrasive after a while so, if all i have are coins, i throw them back into my pocket and jingle them around, making sure they never leave my palm. the coins must stay in my palm. a loss of a coin means a loss of control. i'd have to dig into my pocket to find that coin again, maybe lean over to one side as so many people do while picking change out of their pocket. for some reason, there is the belief that by leaning, the change will separate itself from the keys, from the dirty tissue, from the pennies that are no use at a vending machine. Such movement is not suave, it is not the work of a man of confidence. it is the motion of a nervous man who is truly lost, instead of a confident man merely pretending in a coy and playful way to be indecisive about the task before him; picking a snack, espcecially while an attractive woman is waiting behind him.

meeting an attractive woman at a vending machine is about the best situation a man can find himself in, if he plays it properly. After making several sighs and money rubbing noises, i usually turn to the woman in back of me and ask if she has made her selection; if she would like to purchase her snack. She will smile for a moment, considering the offer. sometimes she doesn't sometimes she just says thanks, buys her mustard flavored pretzels and leaves. fine, that's fine, i don't mind at all. i don't want to flirt with mustard breath. gross. gag me with a spoon, get out of my face. don't waste my time. the girl that smiles and considers....she's the keeper. she stands next to me, looks at the options with me. we must look like idiots, standing in front of a glowing box, deciding which snack will occupy the next 10 minutes of our live, which one will carry us to lunch. the task appears to be simple. pick a snack and go, but such decisions are not easily made, especially when another person in present.

first there is the debate between salty and sweet. chips or cookies. candy or jerky. either way, i'll end up thirsty. i look at the prices and wonder why a four pack of oreos is pricier than a bag of doritos. i look at the ounces of each package and how filling each snack would be. doritios would give a satisfying crunch with every bite, while oreos, because of the fat content, might seem more filling. both have a high rate of crumbs, but chip crumbs are easier to wipe from the mouth. oreo crumbs line the lips and stain the teeth black. that is no good at the work place. now the debate between salt and sweet has turned into a decision of neatness. the neatness of a snack is important in a social situation. first dates rarely take place at rib joints. it's too messy; too much of a strain on an already unsteady relationship. first dates should involve easy to eat food, something like grilled chicken breast, or spaghetti if you are one of a commendable amount of dexterity in the finger joints. if one wants to impress, an asian restaurant; chop stick handling is always fun and playful. all this comes later, of course. the deal must be set first, and all this starts with the choice of snack at the vending machine.

ask what female wants. what she feels like. see if she too is indecisive. offer to buy one of her two choices so they can share. discuss the pros and cons of each of her choices. share your laments about the recent change out of twix for milky ways. find a way to relate vending machine grid choices to Battleship. offer her crisp dollar if hers isn't taken by machine. go over own choices in head. anticipate what she's thinking. proximity. what her snack choice says about her. is she truly indecisive, is he playing the game too? cheez it vs. better cheddar. skittles vs. starburst.

sees popcorn in vending machine. thinks about buying and popping it. will the popping be too distracting. too ostentatious a display...gratuitous preening. plus, the microwave does not work properly. how can he pop popcorn when the "3" doesn't work. the buttery scent could act as an aphrodisiac. there is still much to consider when it comes to the popcorn.

man wants to mention things he has noticed about his female coworker, but is unsure of how his compliments will be received since he has never actually spoken to her. will he be thought of as observant admirer or freaky stalker. it is a fine line. he must chose the right detail. must not make any mention of things he has found in her car/trashcan or that he watches her go to her car/digs through her trashcan. a balance must be formed. action should be kept to a minimum.

desert island list: favorite words/phrases

2008-01-03T15:50:00.000-08:00

here is a list of my favorite words/phrases in no particular order. i'll add to the list as new words float into my noggin. sorry it's a bit lacking at the moment.

umbrage

doppelganger

ostensibly

snickerdoodle

fiddlesticks

triumvirate

perfunctory

in the elevator

2008-01-01T14:18:00.000-08:00

story takes place in an elevator. perhaps with two people, maybe only interior monologue; thoughts. getting in on a floor, up and down. needs lobby. takes stairs. watches people get on and off. maybe it's a janitor. or a visitor. a visitor who thinks about the janitor. how does mop water get up to the 12th floor? how can we get water that high? is it dangerous? elevator operator in rasputin s.f. long haired asian guy with glasses, sitting on a stool; pink hello kitty cd player blasting something obscure. elevator buttons were smoothed and greasy. think about elevator attendants/bathroom attendants/parking lot attendants/ jobs whose general purpose is mainly to wait. getting paid to wait; to not get bored.

detail

2007-12-30T22:47:00.000-08:00

a character who reads in the bath. rips book a part, page by page, and places each one in a ziploc bag. has bags of books in house. often mixes books up. lets stories tumble as they may.

pinkberry

2007-12-27T12:12:00.000-08:00

allyson's word's of wisdom:

is there dairy in the green tea yogurt?

pinkberry attendant: it's yogurt. there's dairy in yogurt.

+++

kerry, your eyes look so drunk.

+++
mother o'keefe:
kerry, turn around, no one wants butt fuck......i mean, butt photos.

an assortment

2007-12-14T21:26:00.000-08:00

"that made me laugh so much i felt vulnerable inside." a.v. club user comment.

an old woman with no neck, her cheeks sag, leaving her head/neck as one flappy skinned ball. she is bent over, round backed. when she gets up she looks as if she is going to fall over; go into a gentle tuck and roll, armadillo style. a somersault. she crumbles into a ball, slowly; over the years. back into a fetus shape until cracking, falling apart; softening until there is no shape left at all.

on the other side of the one way mirror- title/quote

the car and the fly

2007-12-11T01:37:00.000-08:00

guy invites woman over for dinner. he even offers to pick her up and take her to his place. he makes a large turkey dinner and gives her lots of wine. his plan is to feed/booze her up so much that when he drives her home she falls asleep in his car and he can feel like a confident/protective man like in the buick commercials. he wants to imagine his 89' corolla being an '89 buick le sabre and he drives down winding roads and smiles assuredly over the woman knowing that both he and she will be safe as they cruise along in his luxury sedan. he then remembers the rest of the commercial involves childen in the backseat also sleeping and soon the car turns into a stained cloth seats sticky with grape juice, cracker, crumbs, and three gallons of bubble fluid that turned the whole back seat into a slip and slide for a week. the fantasy fades, but the man is still intent on asking the woman out. he needs to project the confidence of a man who drives a stylish yet safe automobile. this is what women look for; a cautious cat with a flair for the dramatic. he walks toward the woman with long strides until her realizes his fly is down. doesn't know how to act. where to go. she has made eye contact with him. what to do in such a situation. fake sack scratch? say something like, it's drafty in here, try to be discreet, walk away, ask her to zip it for him, ask her to reach in for a special surprise, ask her if it's noticeable, ask her if it turns her on, ask her if she would like to do the same to her own pants, ask her if she ever wished her vagina had a zipper or perhaps a zip loc seal to ensure freshness. all his ideas sound dynamite, it is now only a matter of choosing which one.

Wha' Happened?

2007-12-10T13:02:00.000-08:00

somehow write a story that incorporates a character who insists on becoming famous by coming up with catchphrases. catchphrases include: traditional slice, new school slice, sorries, and suckers. maybe along the lines of mike lafontaine in A Mighty Wind. also likes to ask, hey guys, what's up with factories?

quotes and concepts

2007-12-09T22:43:00.000-08:00

"why would someone choke on pork unless they didn't know how to chew?"

"let's not turn this rape into a murder."

+handi-snaks- always biting one's nails

would you stop it with the handi-snaks?

what are you talking about?

stop biting your nails. jesus, christ, it's not a sandwich

man is in library at one of those study desks, looking at maps/history of spoons in the ohio river valley
a woman sits on a study deskk facing him, but is out of sight due to partition. man can only see top of woman's head/hair. shades on her head. listens for drinking, writing, highlighting, page turning, sighs. drops pen on floor in order to look down, see if partition runs length of desk. wants look at feet/shoes. sandals or shoes. nail polish or not. imagines/fantasizes about woman on other side/what she is reading. looks for hands scratching head. ink on hands, nail polish watch, ring, bracelets, wrist size, arm hair, nail length, shape of nail, possible scent wafting over. a male visitor stops at her desk. a laugh. whispering. man gets jealous. hears cloth rubbing. a sign of embrace. imagines whispering into woman's ear, but can not do so w/o the lisp. ruins fantasy. sees part of purse peeking over edge of desk. imagines what is in purse. what secrets of her life are hidden within its depths and whether or not the items that may or not be held within are as important to her as the man is making them out to be to him. interior monologue.

the 27

2007-11-11T15:12:00.000-08:00

"I have to put a catheter in a 450 pound woman and it's a five man job. one guy for each leg, one to hold a flashlight, and then i have to dive in there and figure out where the catheter goes."

"i see a lot of vaginas and it's horrible."

"i have to inspect 80 year old breasts."

"do you listen to your own music?"

"i don't make music."

"i got to see old german balls."

"my hairdresser is a lesbian and she tells me to spread my legs when she cuts my bangs."

"This guy is huge and always holds my head and puts it on his chest when he talks to me."

"The cookies look they were made by a retard."

"I'm always late...I hope I'm not pregnant."

lines to remember

2007-11-07T14:17:00.000-08:00

"What could frost my cake more?" Entry 35 from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

"...the thought of children has always inspired me with a kind of remorse." pg. 113 from If on a winter's night a traveler

"What a pompous freak show." - Jen and Tiffany regarding overconfident/self centered males

the devil is in the details

2007-10-29T00:22:00.000-07:00

a man ironed his dress shirt. it is crisp, it has perfect creases, it also shows the grid pattern of the ironing board in ghostly white. the grid is visible in patches. the shirt is marred by wearer's obsession with clean lines; unwrinkled cloth. he pressed too hard; ironed too much. he perfected his way to imperfection.

a woman walks in heels. it echoes. the clack sound is constant except for the occasional scuff; the slight drag of the heel; a misstep; a slackened pace. the rhythm is broken, the enchantment of her walk disturbed. she must begin again.

titles: the legend continues

2007-10-17T02:11:00.000-07:00

russ, the butcher: a study in ham and cheese

senor garsueno: una vida de jamon y queso

the butcher's dilemma: a study in ham and cheese

exercises in self indulgence: a collection of short stories written in the third person

a short short

2007-10-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

a short writing exercise about a local diner that sucks ass:

Watson’s: Where People Go to Die

I pulled up the restaurant about two in the afternoon and found ample parking right out front, which I should have taken as a bad sign. I was supposed to meet my friend there, which I am always queasy about. Meeting people at restaurant is always a chore because I never know if they are there or not when I arrive. Do I tell the hostess I’m waiting, do I walk around the restaurant like an idiot looking for people? Having to walk through a pharmacy/restaurant like Watson’s is even stranger.

“Sir, are you going to buy that Preparation H?”

“Uh, no. I’m just waiting for a friend.”

I was fortunate enough that the aforementioned scenario did not befall me. Jen was sitting at one of Watson’s patio tables just outside the door. She was engrossed in Star Magazine and had already set herself up with a glass of water.

“Hey,” she said. “Do you want to sit inside?”

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t care,” I said.

“Is it nice inside?”

“It can be. You want to take a look before making your decision?”

Jen walked into the restaurant, took off her shades and inspected the shabby chic interior. She deemed the place suitable and wound her way over to a booth by the kitchen. Meanwhile, I carried her glass of water into the restaurant. An elderly woman with popcorn hair looked at me strangely. I guess she supposed I was a disheveled young man with enough nerve to bring in my own glass of water.

The original booth Jen had picked out was large enough to seat a small circus, so she chose a smaller one by the front window. I put the water down on the table, slid into the booth and came face to face with a reflection of myself against the mirrored wall. Rather disgusted by the image I turned away and focused my attention to the table, which was missing a menu for me to peruse. I looked around the restaurant, assessing the diversity of the patrons. What I found were three tables scattered around the restaurant, filled with the senior citizen set. It was too late for breakfast and too early for the early bird special that started at four. I wasn’t sure why they were there or where they found the energy to stay out of the house so long, but there they were. One man wore a fisherman’s cap and came in with a woman wearing shorts with a Hawaiian floral pattern. Outside, a man looking like Robert Duvall’s grandfather was sipping coffee. Other than those few and most likely loyal patrons, the place was empty. I can’t blame the place. It was two in the afternoon on a Monday. How much business could there be?

A waitress came by and gave me a menu and asked if we wanted anything to drink. I said no. Jen said that the water more than quenched her thirst and needed no further beverage at that time. The waitress left the table and busied herself somewhere off in the distance.

“Oh, I got a breakfast menu,” Jen said.

“Yeah, I did too,” I replied. It’s ‘cause they serve breakfast all day. They cater to our needs like that.”

“ I see.”

There was a brief pause in conversation at which point Jen decided to stretch her arms. It was an action that also included stretching and rubbing the skin over her eyes. In fact, most of the stretching had to do with her face skin more than her arms. After her hands left her face, they dropped to her sides; her elbows not getting the full work out they so richly deserved.

I told her, “I’ve never seen a stretch whose main goal was just to rub the eyes. It’s like your arms just gave out.”

She laughed, then stopped, then asked if I wanted to take it outside and made a fist with her right hand. No, she didn’t do that. But, she said she was a big fan of stretching and then demonstrated what a full back stretch entailed. It was pretty stretchy and impressive. Just then the waitress came by and asked us for our orders.

“Ladies first,” I said

“I’ll have a hamburger, please,” Jen told the waitress.

I told Jen that I thought ladies first meant I was going to order first. She laughed, the waitress laughed, and I felt warm inside knowing they appreciated my humor or were at least kind enough to give false, but generous laughs. I asked the waitress what shake flavors they had.

She rattled of the typical vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, before launching off into a virtual cornucopia of fruits ranging from pineapple to blueberry, to Oreo (yes, Oreo is now a fruit), to raspberry, to banana, and then back to Oreo because she ran out of flavors. She gave a long hard squint in the direction of the kitchen, Clint Eastwood style, just to show she was trying extra hard to remember everything. After all that, I would’ve felt like a jackass if I’d have just ordered vanilla, so I went with the strawberry to go along with my cheeseburger.

Jen and I continued the stretch talk, believing it was the best course of action, given the circumstances. She told me of a friend who twists her wrists when she gets excited. I said that was okay, but nothing compared to my friend’s habit of waddling in place and shaking his hands whenever he gets nervous, especially while playing games designed for 10 year olds at Dave and Buster’s. Eventually the food came. Jen ripped open her burger bun and looked at the secret sauce.

“Oh, this stuff has to go.”

“Is it like, Thousand Island?”

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s coming off.”

I followed suit and almost drenched my curly fries in Watson’s nasty secret sauce. The conversation between Jen and me continued as we covered a wide array of subjects including children who wear turtlenecks and my dad’s propensity to yell. My milkshake arrived shortly thereafter. It had real strawberry pieces. It was a monster of a shake and looked as thick as yogurt, custard style yogurt even. After a relentless amount of good humored and relaxing conversation it started getting stale, mostly due to my lack of witty rhetoric. Jen pulled out her celebrity magazine and started to make fun of Britney Spears’s flabby abs. Jen was being brutal. I wanted to defend the poor lass, but Jen wasn’t having any of it. When the check arrived Jen said she was going to the gym to work off the 10 pound bun of bread she just ingested. I said I was going back to my apartment to sit on my ass.

After all our celebrity gossip exhausted itself, I walked up to the pharmacy half of the establishment to pay the bill. The woman behind the register had seen better days. She wasn’t what one would call haggard, but she wasn’t far away. She was a woman who looked to be in her early 40’s with fake, silver nails and a spray tan so thick it could have been Minwax varnish. As I paid the bill I noticed a small display of Epsom Salts, which I didn’t even know were still being manufactured. Maybe, I thought, this place is an old time diner, after all. The woman handed me my change, wished me a nice day, and continued about her business.

I left the diner and took one last look back. The glow of fluorescent light tubes filled my eyes and drew me to the false, dropped ceiling so prevalent in office buildings. I wanted to think of something profound and witty to say as I exited, but nothing came to mind. I bid Jen farewell and wished her luck at the gym, a place I had only heard about. I walked to my car and drove away. It wasn’t until about 10, ass burning minutes later that I realized I really needed some Preparation H.

fun ways to sign a letter

2007-09-05T22:04:00.000-07:00

over this past summer i became moderately obsessed with differing ways of signing a letter other than "sincerely." my list isn't that great, but it's all i've got so far. if anyone has suggestions, please submit them.

racially
with a little shade of red
consistently
characteristically
fundamentally
overwhelmingly
suggestively
biographically
evidently
technically
with masterful aplomb
how am i not myself
in a sentimental mood
jars and jars of stars

jeff makes me giggle

2007-08-29T23:39:00.000-07:00

jeff garlin, on doing comedy at the comedy store: What living experience do I have to share with a room full of drunk Korean kids with fake IDs?

with thanks to stephan jenkins

2007-08-28T21:01:00.000-07:00

possible story title: the rise and fall of my sloppy love

bundle of nerves

2007-08-28T02:36:00.000-07:00

angsty melodrama or, the reason an angry stand-up comedian once called me emo:

Bundle of Nerves~
raw, sparking against the fading light; burnt out, but still alive, unbinding with every move until there's nothing left but loose wires looking for a connection; a balance; a positive for her negative; anything to complete the circuit and return the flow so she can warm herself by the amber glow of love, however fleeting that light might be, however frayed her hope has become, listlessly sprawled across her bedroom floor.

two lives moving toward a dissapearing center

2007-08-15T22:37:00.000-07:00

clyde (or herb from "the rise and fall of a most unpleasant man") lives in an apartment with his girlfriend it is a one bedroom. after an office party and many drinks later, clyde comes home convinced that his life needs order. this realization occurs after a lengthy discussion with one of the office secretaries who had a mad crush on clyde, but was always afraid to tell him so. during a particularly innuendo laden conversation about filing systems, clyde felt a sudden need to organize his life (add conversation b/w clyde and secretary). clyde took it upon himself to reassess his life and thought long and hard while watching grizzly adams, that he needed to be alone to find himself and not let the rush of emotions that had come on as a result of his alcoholism control him. in order to keep track of and visually convey to his g/f his emotional state, clyde developed a system to show how he felt. he moved out of the room he shared with his g/f and moved into their apt.'s living room. he bought a small tent and camped out there. he needed to maintain privacy, but wanted to remain connected to his "emotional monitoring officer": or EMO aka, his g/f. the water, but not light proof tent would allow the couple to see each other in silhouettes, or their physical essence, without being distracted by clothes/physical attractiveness. as time wore on, clyde found that he need another tend, mainly for space. he kept needing more room until, eventually the whole living room was a nesting doll of various tents, culminating in all their sheets being hung from the ceiling a mere 3 inches away from the actual wall. after a particularly insightful/moving bit of psycho babble from life coach extraordinate, dr. phil, clyde came to discover that what he needed to do was compartmentalize his emotional states into separate categories and understand where each emotion stems from, thus conquering the uncertainty it can produce in life. dr. phil's stirring expose on peruvian pregnant preteens and their petulant prenatal offspring opened clyde's eyes. a rather colorful add for closet world also affected clyde in ways that formerly, only cheap porn and hot pockets could do. unfortunately, because clyde watched both programs while in the third circle of his tents, both the sound and picture quality of the tv was poor, since it was placed on the outter most circle. clyde's nesting egg of tents came to represent his emotional state of the day, the further toward the center he was, the darker the emotions and the less amount of contact he would want with the outside world. the tents were loosely based on dante's circles of hell, maslow's pyramid of needs, his drunken conversation with the office secretary, and his childhood dream of living in some sort of homemade fort, preferably subsisting on a diet of smores and hi-c.

conclusion of the story ends with tents collapsing somehow/ for some reason. clyde is trapped in the center circle. his g/f, stuck only a circle away from him, desperately tries to reach him, thinking they are in the same circle. the two find each other and mirror each other's silhouettes and momentarily stand together, letting their shadows merge into a dark, amorphous shape, neither person distinguishable from the other. they both sit down. clyde asks her to think of an object and he'll try to guess it. they put their foreheads together and watch as the nylon gently billows with each other's breath. (a series of thoughts and guesses). their list becomes more random, desperate, until there is only disconnection. things fall apart. there is nothing between them. not thoughts, not words, not love, only the vague but ominous feeling that they each don't belong, and both were, inextricably drawn to each other, to the present, to that very moment in their lives. the reason for that moment is unclear. they only know that it is happening, now,before them; they realize that they are alone, together, and the center they tried so hard to find has utterly escaped they know they are here, but can never be Here. a place. a distinguishable point of reference, autonomous from the rest of their lives, from the stream of moments, the current of emotion. and so they lie there, motionless, moving (floating) through time as aimless as they began; their limp silhouettes consumed by the whole of night's languor. (look up last lines from interterm story, or whichever story was titled, Alone, Together)

notes on the story:
alternate beginnings...instead of merging unpleasant man with this, have characters begin by lying in bed in the morning. spooning. the sun shines through the curtains, but rather than flood the apt. in an amber glow, it is a cool, winter light, muted, glacial light, a light that brings with it not warmth, but the crisp chill of early morning, a sky veiled in a thin veneer of gray, and the distinct gratefulness that there is another body in the bed; a warm spot to crowd around and take refuge in. pleasant conversation turns into argument over clyde's lack of cleaning skills and the ease in which he becomes offended/hurt. he in turn sulks/broods, moves out into the tent.

alternate phrasings of last line:
their limp silhouettes washed over by the whole of night's languor.
their limp silhouettes engulfed by the whole of night's languor.
their limp silhouettes swallowed by the whole of night's languor.

description of g/f trying to find clyde:
fumbled toward him. they fumbled toward each other.

a day in the life

2007-08-09T23:27:00.001-07:00

sandra, explaining why she needed to get a waxing: look how rowdy my eyebrows are.

efeminite chef on tv playing in albertson's produce section: this is cantaloupe, but it's not called cantaloupe this time of year; it's called candy-loupe, because it's so sweet. i love it.

"your mother is a woman of many affairs."

bartenders have it handled

2007-08-08T23:01:00.000-07:00

bartender, encouraging douche bag customer to drink his beer: HANDLE IT!
the bartender's expression was that of excitement and anticipation, as if he just met his long lost bro-mate (1) and hoped that his outcry, along with their chest bump and one handed hug/handshake combo would make a good impression and solidify their newly rekindled bro-hood.

(1) bro-mate: similar to that of a soul mate, but restricted to a male-male relationship. it transcends formal definition, but usually manifests itself as a simultaneous realization or celebration of trivial matters. when either or both of the males makes said realization, an oral response is created. most common outcry: aaahh, yeah, braahhh! outbursts are stimulated by but limited to : seeing each other after an extended period of time a.k.a getting a jeep waxed; wearing similarly styled, ripped and pre-stressed jeans, generic striped dress shirt, a gallon of hair product and a seashell necklace to keep things loose; asking if a girl across the bar is as bangable if not more bangable than his slut of an ex who, after breaking up, started dating her long time bff, skyler. popping collars is also a major stimulant for oral outbursts.

tell-tale signs a society is fucked

2007-08-04T22:38:00.000-07:00

sign #314: bags of chips now feature a remote control

it used to be that junk food manufacturers had to apologize or disguise the fact that their products were unhealthy (i.e. now with half the fat, reduced sodium, new, low calorie recipe, rich in vitamins, won't clog your colon, etc.) frito lay, being the purveyors of gluttony that they are, have decided to enter what bill o'reilly likes to call, "the no spin zone." (for further clarification, please watch this video) in the no spin zone, frito-lay has dropped their spin doctoring ways and have conceded to the fact that, in all likelihood, the people that buy their chips aren't the most active/health conscious group in world. , . now, in addition to displaying a well lit and thoroughly delicious looking bowl of chips, frito lay has also included the image of a tv remote control. they're not even trying to hide the fact that the people most likely to eat the chips leave their recliners only for a.) more chips b.) beer c.) taking a piss d.) a healthy scratch of the ass or e.) all of the above (but only during commercials). it's like they're saying, "yeah, we know you're probably a lazy, fat ass. oh well, what are you gonna do, huh? want some more chips, fat ass? don't bother getting up, fat ass, you just change they channels while we provide the calories." it's sad to see that gluttony and laziness are the prime motivators for selling food products. would putting a nice picnic scene on the bag be too difficult? something outdoors, maybe. something involving physical movement other than spontaneous arm raising at the sight of a touchdown?

music/random quote

2007-07-29T21:23:00.000-07:00

ed, on contemporary country music, " it's like someone singing a vietnamese pop song, but you add fiddles and a country rhythm section."

blog caption: my days and nights have traded places and things are getting weird.

Quotes from the Evening of 27th

2007-07-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

geeky guy beginning a story at the table next to us, "that was the night i thought i murdered some one."

waitress, checking to see if we wanted dessert, "how's it lookin', chickens?"

Quotes from England

2007-07-28T17:30:00.000-07:00

old woman crossing the street against the signal, "naughty."

charming british roommate named lauren,

"I've never been in this room, but it's shitty."

"Hello, darling. i love you. no, i love you more. i love you. when are we going to buy the materials for our raft?"

tiffany, upon seeing a mossy stone house, "that buildings all lichened out."

rebekah, after seeing dark clouds in the distance, "tut-tut."

rebekah's dream: "i had a dream my two front teeth turned into my pinky toes and were called 'feeth.'"

rebekah on her dad's winning a limerick writing contest, "the competition was not stiff."

secret communication system i devised to talk to tiffany late at night, "we need some sort of squeaky, pulley system made out of of old shoestring that we can attach notes to and send across the room."

rebekah mishearing me say, "my heart was palpitating." "i thought you said, 'my heart was beating like a hot potato.'"

my reply to a british couple who looked confused by our obsession with a toad, "i'm sorry. we're new to nature."

after throwing tea into a british river on the 4th of july, "can you see my defiance floating in the river?" or "can you see my floating defiance?"

young child at the national gallery asking his teacher about van gogh cutting of part of his ear, "is it like britney spears shaving her head?"

teacher's reply, "It is a bit like britney spears, i guess, but he wasn't famous at the time. no one knew who he was."

"I don't trust a man who doesn't swing his arms when he walks."

tiffany, i think, describing a former roommate, "she had hearing problems, but she was also STU-PID."

exchange with waiter at greek restaurant near covent garden: (to be transcribed later)

Story Titles

2007-06-23T13:31:00.000-07:00

top 10 desert island mix: love songs and the misery they inspire, especially when sung by lionel richie

abridged excerpts from reginald haygood's thesis defense presentation: a random sampling of consumer shopping lists and the horrifying implications they present

The Rise and Fall of a Most Unpleasant Man: the Herb Brendle Saga

2007-06-22T20:56:00.000-07:00

here's a flash fiction i wrote for The Synchronocity of Indeterminacy. the idea behind the site is that people look at a random photo and write a story about it in one minute. so far, i haven't read any mind blowing one minute stories. i didn't read the part about having to write the story in a minute until after i wrote for an hour. so, i cheated, but the work is far superior. i didn't formally submit the to the site because i didn't want to get a flurry of comments telling me i did the assignment wrong. anyway, here is the story based on the photo they posted on may, 25th. the photo, by itself, can be viewed here.

The Rise and Fall of a Most Unpleasant Man: the Herb Brendle Saga

A Two Act Comedy of Tragic Proportions

Herb: An Introduction

Herb had been sober two years. Coworkers noticed the difference. His shirts were correctly buttoned and free of that booze smell that used to permeate all he wore. The random stains from whereabouts unknown also faded away and were replaced by crisp and iron dress shirts, some even with monograms. At the two year anniversary of Herb’s sobriety, the office threw a party. Cake was served; chocolate, topped with fresh strawberries. Herb came late to his own party. People talked. Carol, one of the secretaries said he was probably barfing all over himself in the office bathroom, drunk and disheveled, eyes more red than the light he was going to run on the way home. Herb did, in fact, stumble out of the bathroom with red eyes and an intoxicated grin, the one that was usually hidden behind an unshaven face and the bloated cheeks of a four day booze binge. Everyone stopped their revelry. Carlisle, the floor supervisor, slammed the copy machine shut he was so disappointed at Herb’s apparent lack of self control. To break the silence, Herb said, “I’m drunk…..drunk on life.” Office workers looked around. Was he alcohol drunk or silly, stupid Herb drunk.

After a heated exchange between office janitor, Julio, and Herb, not to mention a plunger induced black eye, all was well. Herb explained that he had become so overcome by the support his coworkers gave him that day he went into the bathroom and cried. He was too ashamed to admit as much earlier and he apologized to everyone for the confusion concerning his condition.

Herb: The Fall

A year and a half later, Constance, the assistant floor manager, had received a promotion and was climbing the corporate ladder and even moved to an office three floors higher. Her old office, eager to support their coworker decided to throw a party. In order to accommodate the whole floor, it was decided that the party had to be moved outside the office and to another locale. Craig, the Human Resources guy, was supposed to make the arrangements. Due to an extreme allergic reaction to a paper clip he swallowed earlier in the week, Craig didn’t make the reservations until the night of the party. The only space available was a banquet room at an older roller skating rink on the far side of town, over by the Tupperware plant, where the streets have more weeds than asphalt.

Everyone called Craig an asshole for making the reservations so last minute. He shrugged and put on his black sweater, the one with the red and gray stripes, the one that was mysteriously found in the women’s restroom along with one of Carol’s earrings. Regardless of his sexually promiscuous past and poor planning skills, people grudgingly showed up to the Craig’s reserved banquet room at the Fiesta Roller Rink. Craig, being the master planner that he was, only managed to put up some streamers and a few balloons. He didn’t even spring for helium balloons. He made Tricia, the Supply Rep. blow all the balloons up herself. Everyone called Craig an asshole yet again and he was getting fed up with it. Carol wanted to comfort him in more ways than one, but she kept her distance. Craig noticed this and wished they could run away together and live off the land like Grizzly Adams. He wanted to be a manly man and support his lady love. However, he was just a modest man of modest means and could not support the likes of someone like Carol, so full of youth, vigor, and a fashion sense that dictated red print t-shirts and pink scarves were acceptable and even considered trendy in certain circles.

Herb brought chips and dip to the party, but refused to share. He stood in the corner of the room, cradling the chips like a kitten and stuffing his face with onion dip. It was gross. He later loosened up and let people use his dip as long as the chips didn’t have ruffles, ridges, or any other unnatural chip shape alteration. Pringles were strictly prohibited.

As the night progressed, a piñata was hung from the ceiling. Amelia, being one of the employees with a little extra weight on her was invited to take the first swing; maybe break off the poor elephant’s leg; get some goods early in the game. She took a swing blindfolded. She missed and everyone laughed. The men circled around and watched her breasts swing just a half second ahead of her body, testing the limits of her green, silk top. At swing 17 she finally cracked that sucker open. Candy flew everywhere. Herb, still angered by the fact that he had to share his dip, dove for the candy. He looked like a cross between an eagle swooping in for its prey and a beached manatee. He garbled the things up right quick. It wasn’t until candy 389 did he realize they were booze candies. Each little chocolate was wrapped in a liquor bottle style aluminum foil. The chocolates not only tasted like alcohol, but had alcohol in them. Herb tried to stand up and had to hang onto the piñata for balance. Dean, the mail boy, could barely keep the piñata in the air with Herb’s flab pulling down so hard on it. Herb walked over to the strawberry margarita mix and downed the whole pitcher like it was Kool-Aid. His lips turned red and matched his bloodshot eyes.

Everyone started to stare at Herb in disbelief. Craig, pained by the throbbing in his loins after secretly staring at Carol for most of the night, stared longingly at the bathroom door. Carol, missed Craig’s pained expression and was instead looking at the humiliating spectacle that was drunken Herb. Julio, sensing his long time crush Veronica was drunk, asked her to dance. He knew she was gone because only a drunk girl would go out in a sweater as funky as the one she was wearing; a furry, fuzzy thing that looked as if a blind lady knitted it with her arthritis addled feet. Veronica accepted Julio’s advances, which were quick and smooth. He wanted to spin her to look at her ass, but she refused such maneuvers. Ashamed at being a pervert, Julio stared at his feet and tried to play the coy, embarrassed love interest. Veronica took the bait and intertwined her hand with Julio’s. His palm was sweaty, but he didn’t care. He was too focused on Veronica’s ass to care about his sweaty palm.

Meanwhile, Carol, along with some of the interns, continued to watch Herb writhe on the floor. The interns twisted their necks to figure out how exactly Herb became so entangled with a cardboard elephant. They debated whether he was trying to stand up or hump the thing. The consensus was a little of each. The upper echelon of the office; the managers and more reserved suits of the company, stayed toward the back of the room. They watched in awe of Herb and the seeming lack of concern his coworkers had for his well being. What was once a group of empathetic individuals had turned into drunken revelers eager to watch a known alcoholic pour guacamole on his chest and do the Electric Slide with no musical accompaniment or pants. The suits took notes on tiny clipboards and PDA’s. This would all go in their employees’ files; this would all be considered when it came time for employee reviews. As for Herb…well, his antics were humorous enough that the execs were willing to let him slide, let him slip by for old time’s sake. As long he proved to be entertaining, there was no sense in firing him, not unless he affected production. Then, of course, he had to go. Alcoholics of that nature were not to be tolerated; people with little self control would not last at such an esteemed financial planning institution. If a person were to survive they had to be smart, driven, professional, or so completely wasted they couldn't help but do something hilarious. Lucky for Herb, he was just drunk enough to get that particular job done. That's the kind of drive and loyalty they look for at Sherman, Sherman and Owens. That's what keeps the morale high and the money flowing. God bless you, Herb. You you slurry worded little bastard.

Herb: The Later Years

died of psorosis of the liver. funeral. company helped pay. some employees attended. drank champagne at reception. some one crowned new, company alcoholic. etc. etc. (more to come...)

possible collection titles

2007-06-21T11:25:00.000-07:00

marginalia

the fabrication of intimacy

intimate fabrications

the monotony of desire: a complete collection of incomplete lives

the deconstruction of desire: a complete guide to incomplete lives

faint echoes of a distant love

tales for the tender of heart and hesitant of mind

in reverie

a scene of dialogue for a yet unwritten story

2007-06-12T10:34:00.000-07:00

Inside a bakery...

"do you want your own knish?"

"no, i'm not that hungry. can we just split one?"

"they're only a buck each, why don't i just buy two?"

"i don't want a whole one. and then i'll end up throwing it away after."

"i'll just eat what you don't finish."

"then you'll be too full for dinner. i didn't come out here to see you stuff your face with knish. we're splitting the knish. just get one. the goddamn deli lady has been staring at us for five minutes. she already thinks you're an asshole for arguing with me. order the knish so we can get out of here."

"fine. excuse me, can i have one of those potato knishes, please. thanks"

(description of action. watching her take the knish from the tray. some cosmic signficance. attitude toward characters also significant. whatever)

whispers...."don't forget to leave a tip."

"there's no tip jar, how can i leave a tip? i'm not going to tip a woman for pulling a knish from a display case. what am i going to do? give her a dollar? that's as much as a knish. i could buy another knish for that price. and i'm not going to leave change. 'hey thanks for that sweaty labor, getting that knish out and all. here's fifty cents.'what kind of cheap shit is that?"

"shut up, she can hear you."

"she knows what's going on. i think she's aware of the fact that she doesn't have a tip jar. it's her own fault. i didn't put her in this position. if she wants a tip, she'd make it easy to tip her. i don't need some awkward exchange. tentative hands, half outstretched like she's some charity case. (narrator intrudes: compares this tipping situation to tipping the barber. they're right there. hand them folded overr bills. hand them the money and run. when the money is unflolded, you're already out the door.) like you said, let's just get out of here."

they leave the bakery. walk along the street.

"where are you going? i just bought you a knish and now you act like it's laced with anthrax. do you want this thing or not? 'cause i'll eat the whole..."

"will you just shut up? i can't talk to you right now."

she grabs the bag from his hand and rips off a piece of the knish. chews the whole mouthful. continues walking quickly away from him. enters book store.

"hey, i can't go in a bookstore with a knish. it says no food or drinks."

"that's not my problem."

"i'll just finish what's left. meet you inside."

"you're not really going to eat it, are you?"

"no, i'm going to stand outside and cuddle with a knish, maybe sculpt the mashed potato into the statue of liberty. of course i'm going to eat it."

"but, i might want some later."

"that's why i wanted to buy two."

"just put it back in the bag and twist tie it up. we'll eat it later."

(blah, blah, blah. browsing bookstore. time elapses)

outside bookstore...

"finally, i was so hungry."

guy pulls out knish.

"here, you want some?"

"no, i don't want anymore now."

"what? you made me wrap this shit up because you might be hungry later and now you don't want it? why the hell didn't you let me eat it before we went in the store?"

"don't yell at me. i didn't know if i would wanted it or not, so i wanted you to save me some just in case."

"did the fact that i hadn't eaten anything all day cross your mind? did you somehow forget that the reason we bought the knish in the first place was because the only thing i've eaten was a banana? this is why i wanted seperate knishes. never again will i split food with you again."

"it's not my fault you're hungry. you should've ate something before we left. and don't try to make this my fault. "

"i should have eaten something."

"thank you. my point, exactly, now we can drop the whole thing."

"no, no. i mean, you said 'you should have ate something...' you should have said, "you should have eaten something. you used the wrong tense."

"oh my god, this is not happening. do not turn this whole thing into being my fault. i'm not going to take the blame for your stupidity. and don't you dare correct my english and stand there with your smug, self satisfied little grin. i swear to god..."

"hey, hey. there's no need to bring god into this. he never cheated me out of a knish. besides, it's not polite to swear. it's somewhere up there with not tipping bakery workers. 'thou shall always tip the knish lady.' i'm up there on the sinner's scale, right? selfish assholes are sure to burn a toasty death, right?... yeah, okay. go ahead and ignore me. cause that's the mature thing to do. this isn't first grade. we're adults and we can talk about feelings. can you talk about your feelings? cause i can talk about mine. guess what? today's conversation is sponsored by the letter "B." for bitch."