Why didn't anyone ever tell me that Benji has a blog????? I am listening to an amazing mp3 right now called "good times". I'm getting goosebumps
Friday, July 29, 2005
The !!!, Delayed Sleep and JunoBot(?) show is going to be Sunday at 8pm and I hear has to be over by 11:30. Its at some place on 36th and Broadway. I have never been there but I hear it can hold many many people. So everyone should go!
Only hipsters will be admitted and the secret password is "clap your hands say yeah".
I think that's the brickhouse venue. If the show has to be on a sunday night then I'm glad it will be over early. I needs my sleep.
There's supposed to be another big secret show in the works. I hear it will either be on sunday or tuesday. Expect a lot more bitching on the undietaco list about how only the cool people got let in. I, of course, will be watching from my special V.I.P. box high above the stage and I can't tell you how you can get in there, but I will give the hint that it starts with the letter C and ends with the letters O-C-A-I-N-E.
At some point during the beginning part of The Island, the character that Ewan Macgregor plays (Delta delta delta or some stupid fucking name like that) yells at Scarlett Johanssen, "There is no Island!" At that moment, I fervently wished that was true. That should be my whole review right there.
But last time DB's analysis was so much better than mine, so I have to try to concentrate and write a real review...man S. Jo sure looked hot...that rack, those lips...I could give her something to wrap those lips around...wait, I don't even have one of those...well if it's just a fantasy it doesn't really matter...should I have a big one?...Oh! Hey! You're still there. OK, back to my penetrating analysis of The Island.
The reason I wanted to see this movie in the first place is because I thought it was directed by Michael Mann, director of movies such as Heat and the Insider. Heat wasn't even that good but it did have one bad ass shootout scene, so I thought this movie might be exciting. Well, turns out this movie was directed by Michael Bay, director of such dreck (yiddish word meaning dirt, filth,excrement) as Armageddon and Pearl Harbor. Oops.
This movie is a combo of Logan's run and The Matrix, without the cool shit. Fuck! This deep analysis thing isn't working. This movie was not very memorable and it's already fading for me. The most notable thing about it besides S. Jo is the insane amount of product placement. They should have called it "The Island of Product Placement". Oh that joke is weak and I still haven't really said anything yet.
Best line in the movie: "infections can't teach you Latin". And I only remember that because I wrote it down the next day after I saw the movie. I should have written the whole review right then. Next week, I vow to do just that. Maybe we can review Hustle and Flow.
Although Michael Bay is responsible for the most egregious cinematic atrocities of our generation, I was actually looking forward to seeing "The Island", his new clones-on-the-run explosion factory about a couple of childlike copies bred for harvesting who begin to exhibit human-like behavior. Since there had never been anything even resembling human-like behavior in a Michael Bay film before, this promised to be something of a novelty.
Unfortunately, Mr. Bay is still a bit sketchy on the details of humanity, and the film is the usual assortment of elephantine set pieces, sledgehammer humor, and idiot posturing, mostly inexplicable and permanently set on overkill.
The film takes place in 2015, when human clones have become readily available for organ donations and in vitro fertilization. The clones live in a cloistered indoor community, shelter from what they are lead to believe is a contaminated environment, where behavior is closely monitored and intimacy is strictly forbidden. Daily lottery drawings for a spot on The Island, the last pollution-free zone in the world, are the only things that keep hope alive for the clone inmates.
Ewan McGregor plays an unnaturally intelligent clone who starts asking difficult questions, and Scarlet Johannsen plays the clone of a supermodel that McGregor falls in love with. Both stars look great as always, and Johanssen's hey-heys are especially appealing in a skin-tight Logan's Run-esque white jumpsuit, but their line readings feel more dutiful than anything else, and they're forced to recite so much pablum dialogue that you start to feel like a parent at a school play, proud of them for simply getting through it. McGregor at least has a character to play -- Johanssen spends most of the film looking windblown and flummoxed, and she's also starting to look like Tara Reid, not a good sign.
Of course, witty repartee is not Bay's strong suit -- but if you need cars to flip over in balletic unison, he's your go-to guy. "The Island" is set at Bay's usual assaultive pace, and he is still unmatched in his ability to make every scene look like a Gatorade commercial. He continues to overdirect to a phenomenal degree -- a simple sequence of Johanssen buying ice cream for children is shot like its the Odessa Steps sequence in "Potemkin".
There were times I was titilated -- a car chase with McGregor rolling giant axles off a truck is classic Bay, and there are a handful of impressively bizarro moments, such as a dream sequence of McGregor water-wrestling a gang of bald automaton thugs, and an unsettling scene of Michael Clarke Duncan escaping from the operating table -- but these are brief moments sprinkled throughout the film's gratuitous 138-minute running time.
For the rest of the time, you'll be either shaking your head in revulsion, disbelief, or admiration for the filmmakers' chutzpah. "The Island" begets so many fascinating questions, it could be the source of much heated debate. For example, why is the clone colony generator destroyed as soon as it is turned off? Isn't this an option they probably should've refused in the escrow phase?
Product placement also has a stranglehold on the future, and for some reason Aquafina appears to have signed an exclusive contract to provide the unwitting clones with bottled water in the subterranean complex that even the government is unaware of...is it because they're evil or what? However, my favorite product placement occurred when Johanssen attempts to call her human double by speaking the name into a Yahoo search engine speaker phone. She is connected immediately to the house of Sarah Jordan, apparently the only woman with that name on the planet.
p.s.-I saw a horse brain this morning and it was really small. That proves what I already thought, horses are fucking stupid.
p.p.s.-horse people, don't get mad at me, it's not my fault that God made horses stupid.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
I can't hide anything from you. You can see through me and you can probably tell that I'm not feeling up to snuff today. I had a few more than a few too many last night. I'm about to head home for a well-deserved nap. But before I do, I'll leave you with some parting thoughts:
The building where our beloved Wu works has burned down in a spectacular fire. This is horrible news and I hope it doesn't cause her too much inconvenience. So far, she's working temporarily at another facility.
Pervo Stephen Pearcy is in the news again. You may remember him as the guy that hung the effigy in his front yard. Look what he's up to now. Of course I cherish my right to free speech. I think it should be legal to take a dump on the flag and then light it on fire if you want (has anyone else seen the Mr. Show where the founding fathers design our flag with the perfect color combination to render it impossible for anyone to take a crap on it? that's my favorite sketch), but I happen to know that this guy is a grade A dick and I wish he would go away. If you work down there, you should check out the "I love America" art counter-exhibit outside the DOJ cafeteria. That should be good for a few laughs. Maybe I will do a sketch of Uncle Sam with a giant boner and rush down there to march around.
Another excellent dinner at the Waterboy. No, beyond excellent, fucking awesome. Anna, they have a white anchovy appetizer that you would love.
As for the shows, I attended both the T'vendor and FF shows, but I didn't really listen to the bands at either. Sac was out in full force and it was somewhat cool outside so I just socialized. I don't even know if Ass Candy played or not. The metal band seemed cool but it was making my ears bleed. The Advantage seems like a weak joke band that isn't funny for more than a couple of minutes.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Exactly. Dan and I are preparing another she said/he said for this friday. This friday we take on...The Island
Trying another new sushi joint just brought it home that I wish a super fancy, super high quality sushi place would open. Someplace you could go for a special night out. A couple of years ago I ate at a place in Hawaii that is what I have in mind. Someplace that is run by people from Japan, that would maybe have some rare delicacies that I've never tried. I'm reading this Jeffrey Steingarten book (I would recommend either of his books to anyone who likes to read about food, in a really funny format with just enough of the science of food thrown in), and he has a chapter about bluefish tuna that piqued my interest. You may be familiar with toro, the special cut from the belly of this fish, but there is an even rarer, more prized cut from up near the head (I can't remember what it's called) and I want to try it! Where can I get it in Sac?
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
There has been a fight over Naked Lounge vs. The True Love in the last few days (news bulletins, asshats, the True Love is as dead as the true love between Kev and Alison). Here's some blathering: This just shows why the term "hipsters" has zero meaning these days. One post says, "hipsters go back to Infusion". All I ever see at Infusion are dorks on their laptops. I've never stopped there, but when I ride by that's what I see. And then another guy talks about "15 yeal old emo hipsters". There is nothing unhipper than a 15 year old emo kid. Well, there is, but that does not make them hipsters.
I have noticed that there is an upsurge in style going on in the outdoor area around Naked Lounge. It did look like a fashion show or costume party last time I rode by. There was lots of make-up and inappropriately hot (temperature wise) clothing and a girl wearing a hat made of balloons. I go to Peet's because I prefer the coffee there. Here is a pointless Peet's MC. OK, so she's a girl and she was working at Peet's on saturday and she smiled at you. And you don't describe her or say what time you were in. So it could probably be any one of like 5-8 women. Pointless. I do like the petite girl with the brown ponytail that works there. She's sweet. Not like frat boy "sweeet" but a sweet girl. No tats, she's there every weekday morning. This is not an MC, though.
There are so many intriguing new shows posted on the undie list today! Most of them are in August. Two standouts are that Mika Miko are coming back to town (so cute!), and the Bananas with the Trashies in Davis.
Monday, July 25, 2005
I'll blog about the birthday festivities when I get back.
In crazier news, Jandek is going to tour!?!?!?! No west coast dates, though.
Charles clued me in to a Fool's foundation show this wednesday, and he swears this band Danava is great. They better be, cuz they're playing with one of my most hated bands, Ass Candy and the Shattered Theater.
Wednesday, July 27
@ Fool's Foundation
1025 19th Street basement(19th & K Streets)
Friday, July 22, 2005
I'm out like....a lout. I hope to see everybody out there playing volleyball tomorrow.
***I don't really think Josh Lucas is fine. Even though I just wrote it as an excuse to make a joke, it pained me that people would think that I think he's fine.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Honestly, my enthusiasm for writing this review has waned somewhat because I saw it over a week ago. Perhaps you can draw some conclusions about its staying power from that fact alone. I wasn't a huge Roald Dahl fan as a kid, but I did read the first installment of this series, and I LOVED the original movie version. I think Gene Wilder (Jewish) is the perfect Willy Wonka. He is pretty prickly to all the kids during the movie, but when he shows his nice side in the end my little heart melted. I want to watch it again to see if my heart is still capable of melting, I think it has now transformed into shiny stainless steel with a liquid nitrogen interior, surrounded by a fence made of diamonds. I think I just described Kanye West's new necklace, and now I sound like Joan Rivers (Jewish) trying to be hip.
On to the new version: Things start off badly with some terrible CG of the factory assembly line, the kind where you can't get your bearing because there is nothing real within the frame of the screen and it looks like a bad video game, which is a definite portent of things to come. This movie has some of the worst CG I have seen in a long time. The first part with the build up to Charlie finding the golden ticket is fine. Cute kid (equally as cute as the old Charlie, if not cuter), cute family, cute Grandpa Joe. All fine. The other golden ticket winners are introduced. The make-up artists have done this weird thing where they make all the kids look airbrushed, I guess to depersonalize them even more so that you won't be shocked when bad things happen to them. I don't like these kids as much. I prefer all the kids from the first movie. Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka is finally introduced, in a pretty funny scene. Lots has been written about the bizarre way he has chosen to play Wonka, so I'll try to be brief, I get a bit of Pee Wee Herman, no Michael Jackson at all, a little bit of sixties swinger lingo is thrown in just to make things weird, and he says things like "all righty then" that I find to be not that funny and modern in a way that throws things off. It's kinda like a David Spade bit at times. He is funny, but his schtick (Yiddish word that perfectly describes this concept) is distracting. The whole movie is balanced on Depp making this work, and he doesn't.
Moving on, Oompa Loompas-horrible, worse than the first one if that's possible. I shrank with dread every time I knew they were about to invade the screen. One thing I have to mention is the scene where Violet transforms into a blueberry. In the original they just inflated a balloon under her clothes and it looked kinda crappy (on a side note, I'm sure that small cult of fetishists who love to see womens body parts grow very quickly regard that scene as a classic. They exist, I'm not joking.), but it looks so unbelievably bad in the new movie. She goes from a real girl to this awkwardly moving creepy cartoony thing.
By far the most egregious misstep on Tim Burton's part is his insertion of some flashbacks and a subplot with Wonka's dad, all of which are not from the original book. Burton needs to get some therapy for his issues with his dad. I couldn't find it on the net, but I know I've read articles where he reveals that they had almost no relationship at all. It sounds like his father was distant and cold. That's sad, and he certainly can explore that theme in his movies if he wants to (and he dedicated his last film, the mediocre Big Fish entirely to a father/son relationship), but it does not fit very well into this movie. It takes away Wonka's mystery, and it's all too pat and settled by the end. It doesn't end with the excitement of Charlie embarking on his greatest adventure, which is a thrilling way for a movie to end and something that a kid can wrap his or her imagination around.
It's impossible to consider Tim Burton's "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory"
without comparing it against the Mel Stuart-Gene Wilder 1971 film
version...for as much as that movie has been an irritant to me throughout my
childhood and young adolescence (going on 17 years now), I've developed a
grudging respect for it as a cultural touchstone.
Still, don't think my shoulders didn't hunch in revulsion everytime my
childhood friends demanded another screening of the film. I understand that
to many people our age, dismissing this film is an undefensible
position...but then I feel the same way about "One From the Heart", and lord
knows that film has its share of detractors.
I think I always found something suspiciously authoritarian about a story
that mutilates and humiliates children for minor defects of character while
Charlie gets whatever he wants because he's a pleasant, self-effacing little
douchey two-shoes. I mean, does the fat kid have to be tortured to get
across a point about overeating? They can't just give him some carrot
I don't hold the 1971 version in any reverence, and thankfully neither does
Tim Burton, as he remakes the story in his own image. The new version is a
more complete fantasy compared to the decidedly setbound Gene Wilder
version. Burton eschews a lot of problematic elements from that film -- the
pointless espionage subplot, Charlie and his Grandfather floating, the
general tone of mean-spiritedness. Most important, Burton is simply a
better visual fantasist than Mel Stuart -- images such as the Buckets'
impossibly bent-back cottage, the melting puppet show, and the surprisingly
poetic last shot are still spinning in my head...there's a not a single shot
in the Mel Stuart film that can match up.
The film relies heavily on CGI effects, and no one has more virulently
opposed to the proliferation of digital effects than me (I have a portfolio
on the subject), butfor the most part it works here, and probably helps to
soften the inherent cruelty of the story.
And then there's Depp -- considering recent events, would he have
reconsidered his concept of Wonka as a pasty-skinned, breathy-voiced,
child-like recluse? Or was that the whole point? I know no one wants to
dwell on the Jacko comparisons, but this is essentially the story of a pale,
Peter Pan-like freak isolated by celebrity who uses his traumatic childhood
as an excuse to lure children away from their parents to live in his magical
wonderland of chocolate waterfalls and implied pederasty. To Depp's credit,
though, he stays committed to the character, never settling for a winking
performance, and his Wonka becomes a figure of surprising pathos. The child
performances improve upon those in the original as well, with each
inhabiting their characters fully.
The story still plays out in the same schematic way, with the children
introduced and offed one-by-one. Burton and screenwriter John August flesh
it out with backstories for Wonka's childhood and the importation of the
Ooompa-Loompas. These same like controversial changes for fans, but I
thought they helped enhance the fantasy element of the story. Burton is not
afraid to make this story his own, which is what more filmmakers should be
doing if we're going to remake every movie ever shot. Otherwise, what's the
Burton makes his schare of bad decisions here, including a boat ride that
looks terrible, and choreographed numbers from the Ooompa-Loompas that start
off grating and only grow more so. However, I viewed these as minor
irritations...if you hold in the Gene Wilder version close to your heart,
you may see this as a sacrilege. I know that I was horrified when the Adam
Sandler remake of "The Longest Yard" changed the immortal line "I broke his
fucking nose" from the original film to "I broke-ded his nose" in order to
get a PG-13.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: B
Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: C
The Longest Yard (original): A-
The Longest Yard (remake...or as I like to call it, Worse Than Revenge of
the Sith): D+
Thursday, July 21, 2005
when: this saturday, 8:00-huh, that cuts pretty close to my party, so try to really come around 4:00 so you can get some good playing in. Don't expect to stroll up to the park at 8:30 and get any facetime with me.
where: Mike R's house, right near Bon Air Deli and that art store. You'll know the house.
what: bands and djing!
The new Knightmares (with a different drummer)
The Two Gallants-Pitchfork veritably drooled. Perhaps I am using veritably wrong. Substitute literally, or figuratively, take your pick.
The Younger Brothers-I can't seem to google anything about this band cuz their name is a common phrase. I did learn some things I didn't know about the Allman Brothers and the Gatlin Brothers, though.
After the bands play, some hot new DJs will hit the turntables. I don't know if they have a catchy DJ name yet. They should make one up.
DB, go ahead with that review if you want, I'm ready. And I promise to write mine on my own, not as a retort to yours.
The new SN&R is out and smiller clued me in the the fact that Clubber name-dropped ol' Heckasac in this weeks column. Should I prepare for a barrage of hits? I'm curious to see if people read it that closely. I'll let you know. He gives you a link to download an entire Brian Jonestown Massacre album, which I'm doing right now.
E.S. wrote a dispatch from the Sammies, and it seems like most people weren't too stoked about the new venue. I like this quote from Matt K., "“This year’s show was interesting, but instead of feeling like an event, it felt like a $6 show for $12.” I'm betting that that pretty much sums it up. I can't really bring myself to care about the Sammies. The only time I ever went was when the Bananas were nominated, and then I just spent the night yelling Bananas a lot and trying to amuse myself during the interminable show. Most people who were there seemed have come just so they could dress up and parade around in their finery, or what passed for finery (hootchie shit), and most people seemed to be in the bar and not really watching much of the show. But of course the Empire is so obviously inferior to the Crest as a venue. I wonder if that pimp guy showed up this year? Cresties will know who I'm talking about. He usually brings a couple of ladies and a butler-type guy who holds his coat and waits on him.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
I like this MC. It's kinda cute.
And as a special treat for D.P. head on over here, and check out the american apparel models Anahit and Sona, two Armenian-American hotties.
By the way, she attended Sac State. You know, people dis on Sac State, but depending on how you work it, it's a great school. I daydream about going back for grad school all the time. I know tons of people who have attended there and gotten great jobs after. It's like with a degree from anywhere, you have to hustle and sell yourself, no one is gonna come knocking on your door to give you a job, whether your degree is from Yale or lowly old CSUS.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Originally uploaded by becklerg.
No less than the Grey Lady herself today features a picture of Sactown's finest, Nic Offer. Here's the article, which fails to mention Out Hud. I'm sure they'll get a mention on Pitchfork tomorrow, when part 2 of the fest summary is printed.
1) Kinks and Beach Boys (tie)
2) Rolling Stones
DB-have you seen Willy Wonka yet? I want to do a she said/he said review.
I wonder if there is a band they would turn down a tour with?
I will weigh in, not as the voice of authority, but just as a citizen of this ever growing web community that we call Heckasac (I'm misting up now). I was there when the bet was made, and I think counting this album violates the spirit of the bet. I think Heckamax still wins. Anyone?
Monday, July 18, 2005
I don't even know if homzee even reads this anymore, but I guess E-40 signed to Lil Jon's label. His new album is gonna be split between Rick Rock (and yes, Rick Rock is also the name of the guy that was recently popped for those armed robberies in midtown. I'm sure he stole the name from the producer)and Lil Jon tracks. Looking into this brought me to this promising hip-hop blog. They have lots of mp3s to download, including the new E-40/Trillville "I'm pimpin' It's good. Download it.
I was looking into the song "Da Dummy" which you can also download off that blog, the blog dude says "it's not that hot" but I beg to differ, especially considering what's on Sac radio right now, but I digress, anyways, it's produced by E-40's 17 year old son Droop-E. They've got a hip-hop dynasty goin on just like Master P and his son, what's his name (lil romeo?) Here's an article about Droop-E and other hot Bay Area producers in the SF Guardian. Oh, and note to Conway, the "I got 5 on it" came out in '95 and is the second most requested song on KMEL ever! Which begs the question, what's the first most requested. Maybe I will try to guess before I look it up.
1) another random thought (it's becoming like a Seinfeld routine up in here) what's the deal with rhyming Bacardi and party? We all know it's been going on forever, but it's still going on. I just heard some new weak song with this rhyme. OK, Bacardi is not even good rum. It's totally cheap so you would think people would not want to name drop it in their songs. Its one and only merit is that it rhymes with party. Bacardi probably owes 75% of their sales to the fact that it rhymes with party. Someone should start a beer company and name their beer Marty. Or Starty. So it could be like "let's get this Starty party started" or some shit. Or start a vodka company and call your vodka Rafterdarty, so you could rhyme "get a case of Rafterdarty for the afterparty". Actually, that's too many syllables. Marty would probably be better.
2)OK, so camping at Lake Jenkinson. This place is pretty fucking cool. It's close (a bit past Placerville), it's waaayyyy cooler there, and there's a nice, clean reservoir to swim or fish in. There were several partybarges in effect at all times, but the noise was not too bad. Our campsite was completely surrounded by Christians on all sides, so besides the singing religious songs about sinners and the prayer circles they were very quiet. After we skinny dipped we were all going to porky pig*** it through the Christian's campsites, but Jana wussed out. We turned the camping site into an impromptu business meeting and I won't give too much away, but as a hint, hopefully the empty building that used to be Tony Baretta's (by southside park) will soon be a private club that sells beer from a cooler.
***definition: to Porky Pig-to wear a shirt with no pants
Friday, July 15, 2005
What's up for this weekend? I'll be camping at Lake Janky so count me out. I'll mostly be eating bacon, sausage, salami, and then chasing it down with some beer and more bacon.
There's a Mosquitoes show in SF that I'd probably be going to if I weren't camping: Tullycraft/ The Mosquitoes/ Boyracer/ Mia Schoen @ Hotel Utah
And, tomorrow night is the Brian Jonestown Massacre at Old I. I really wish I wasn't missing this show, but I suspect that there will be some total D's who will show up just to fuck with Anton, which would annoy me. It's funny when shit like that happens spontaneously, but now that Dig has made him the new G.G. Allin, he's probably gonna get similar types of smartasses coming to his shows. I hope he takes a cue from G.G. and just rubs shit on himself and runs into the audience. That'll teach 'em!
I think the So So Many White White Tigers album release thing is tonight in Davis, so if you are a fan of noisy art rock or breasts, check it out.
I would like to revise my review of the new Kels album, TP3 reloaded. I listened to it at home, instead of on my crappy computer speakers and work and it's fucking great. He even out D'Angelos D'Angelo on one song, and since D'Angelo is busy working out or getting bone grafts so he can be taller or whatever, we need someone to step in. Thanks Worm!!!!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Oh yeah, those pictures were taken by Erik, hope he doesn't mind that I linked it. I got the link from the chick list! So blame the chicks.
Somehow that reminded me to settle a bet between D.P. and Heckamax. D.P.-you owe Al five bucks. Here's the proof. There was no McCartney solo album before "McCartney". The name kind of offers a clue to that. My five dollar bet still stands. I have a bet with Anna that Cruise will crack up and be hospitalized before October 1. Cruise better start gettin' crazier, and quick! Maybe I can enlist a scientology wizard to help me push him over the edge.
Last night I attended a very interesting party that was filled with young political and journalistic types. I got to hear a slick guy in a suit who immediately struck me as the worst guy possible (and I wasn't alone in this assessment) give a speech to his friend in which he thanked him for introducing him to burning man. He said he felt like he was home. He had such a leering, party guy, huckstery vibe that I'm 90% sure that Burning Man mostly felt like home due to the abundance of bare breasts and free flowing booze, but maybe it was a spiritual thing. Hell, I guess that spells home to me, too. As soon as I open the door most days D.P. and DB greet me with their shirts off and make me drink a beer with no hands.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Drug suspects devise rocket to fly away with evidence
A pair of suspected drug dealers were arrested after being caught with a rocket loaded with about $150,000 of methamphetamine in the trunk of their car. The suspects had rigged together a system that would pop open the car's trunk and launch the drug-bearing rocket when they pushed the cigarette lighter on the dashboard.
Ledford explained that a web of ropes and pulleys lifted the rocket into launch position when the trunk lid was opened. The rocket could then be ignited from inside the car using the dashboard cigarette lighter.
Cops are pretty certain the rocket was meant to be an escape pod for the drugs, but Ledford diplomatically declined to speculate.
"But they did have the meth inside the rocket," he admitted, "and it could be launched from inside the car."
This is kinda like how the guy at Tweaker tools on Broadway was building a jet engine in the back room.
To celebrate, here is a selection of quotes from Roadhouse
Wade Garrett: This place has a sign hangin' over the urinal that says, "Don't eat the big white mint".
Morgan: What am I supposed to do? Dalton: There's always barber college.
Wade Garrett: That gal's got entirely too many brains to have an ass like that.
Emmett: Calling me sir is like putting an elevator in an outhouse. It don't belong.
Dalton: Pain don't hurt.
Dalton: Nobody ever wins a fight.
Red Webster: Don't ever marry an ugly woman, she'll suck the life right out of ya.
Dalton: My way... or the highway.
Jimmy: I used to fuck guys like you in prison.
Wade Garrett: [Eyeing the sign over the Double Deuce] The Double Douche!
Dalton: All you have to do is follow three simple rules. One, never underestimate your opponent. Expect the unexpected. Two, take it outside. Never start anything inside the bar unless it's absolutely necessary. And three, be nice.
Dalton: Take the biggest guy in the world, shatter his knee and he'll drop like a stone.
Jimmy: Prepare to die. Dalton: You are such an asshole.
Jimmy: Damn, boy. I thought you were good. Dalton: Go fuck yourself.
Dalton: If somebody gets in your face and calls you a cocksucker, I want you to be nice. Ask him to walk. Be nice. If he won't walk, walk him. But be nice. If you can't walk him, one of the others will help you, and you'll both be nice. I want you to remember that it's a job. It's nothing personal.
Dalton: I want you to be nice until it's time to not be nice.
Steve: Being called a cocksucker isn't personal? Dalton: No. It's two nouns combined to elicit a prescribed response. Steve: What if somebody callas my mama a whore? Dalton: Is she?
Doc: Your file says you've got a degree from NYU. What in? Dalton: Philosophy. Doc: Any particular discipline? Dalton: No. Not really. Man's search for faith. That sort of shit. Doc: Come up with any answers? Dalton: Not too many. Doc: How's a guy like you end up a bouncer? Dalton: Just lucky I guess.
Who posted the Razorcuts video? I just got around to checking out the link. If anyone else wants to watch it, the links in the comments on one of monday's posts. It's rad! When was it taken?
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
I just bought a cell phone! The deal was too good to pass up.
Repeat it with me: No one wants to get to the bottom of this more than the President of the United States. How many fucking times does he say that? Total lie. I like this barb:
Q When did they ask you to stop commenting on it, Scott? Can you peg down a date?
MR. McCLELLAN: Back at that time period.
Monday, July 11, 2005
DB-do you want to post a "he said"?
p.s.-worm, thanks for the CD. I'll review it later.
Friday was the Popfest in SF. The Ricksha club seems OK. I couldn't help being sad that I wasn't there to see the Television Personalities. I got the inside scoop that the reason the TVPs can't get into the U.S. is not because of Dan Treacy's criminal record, but because he keeps showing up smashed to his visa appointments. But the Razorcuts/Sportique side project thingy played again, which was great. Those guys are so cool. They gave a shout out to Sac! I, of course, got medium hammered and proceeded to segue from talking to Gregory Webster about the London bombings (he lives in Oxford), to the subject of discrimination against Muslims and then to pretty much accusing his home country of being more overtly racist than the U.S. and then telling him the stupid story of how a guy in a pub smacked me and no one seemed to be rushing to stop him from kicking my ass. Poor guy. I plan to pursue a career in diplomatic relations some day. The rest of the bands were decidedly not my cup of pop tea. Pop shows are different. Everyone is dressed casually and no one is getting wasted.
Saturday was the sci-fi con at which No Kill I: TNG played. The organizers of the con thought it would be a good idea to shut everything down at like 4:00, pack up the booths, tell everyone to go home and then say, "oh, but come back because bands will be playing at 6:00". Great idea. There was no one there for the bands, of course. I snuck in with an amp to avoid paying the ten bucks (which went to charity). Stupid charity. TNG KILLED! Killed, I say. I can't believe that no one was videotaping it because my descriptive gifts fail me when I try to describe it. I had a couple of great interactions with the nerds at the con, including a high school kid dressed as an old-school Klingon (before they had the butt-heads). I was laughing about the nerds to my friends, but lest they think I was being cruel, I pointed out that I often used to sleep with a Star Trek novel under my pillow so that I would have dreams about Kirk. How old was I when I used to do that? That's classified information, ensign. No Kill I: TNG needs to play at least once a year from now on!!!!! That's an order. Oh yeah, there was a "guitar comedian" named Hunter Hill. I want to write his name so when he googles it, this will come up and he will see that everyone there thought he was the biggest douche on the planet. This is a guy who probably worships those stupid fucking songs that Adam Sandler used to sing on SNL. His idea of comedy was singing a song about tittyfucking and making fun of carnies and homeless people. I'm sure it goes over big with his frat brothers but it was painfully unfunny. It was sad. And his little square sorority girlfriend sat there videotaping it and pretending that it's great to have a boyfriend that sings a song about you coming in your eye and cleaning it up with your panties.
Then we rushed to the Not Not Fun showcase in Davis. These kids are just as cool as I hoped! They're not like the kids in Sac who just sit there sourly in their hundred dollar jeans under their 60 dollar haircuts and never crack a smile. They are like all of our friends ten years ago. Funny, friendly, and cute. Their bands were entertaining and good. I hope that they all play in Sac a lot. Thanks to whoever hosted the show at their house. They even had free BBQ and beer.
Sunday I went up to the Yuba. This spot at the river really puts Sac to shame, which I hate to say. But hey, that's the beauty of Sac, drive a little over an hour away and you're at a beautiful blue-green river in the mountains, with naked Germans and hippies everywhere. Brew said that last time she saw two naked hippies toasting each other with champagne. Sweet! Maybe Brew can post directions to this spot for those who are interested. It's worth the drive.
Friday, July 08, 2005
D.P. (burps loudly)
2 stateworker ladies walking by
stateworker 1: that's gross
D.P.-I had to let it out
both stateworkers (now past him and down the street, yell loudly in unison) It's still gross!!
I'd like to once again sing the praises of Beers books, and I can't believe how lucky I am that I can just saunter over there while I am doing laundry at the world's most busted laundromat. And saunter I did, yesterday, to trade in a few unwanted books and come out with a Patricia Highsmith Ripley book and a copy of "Enduring Love" which is gripping. I already read half of it. Do I impress you with my fast reading skillz?
Still, no word from the Crest on the challenge that's been thrown down. What's up Crest? Are you just conceding victory to Tower?
Thursday, July 07, 2005
always is never forever
or a song called hear it again for the first time
make up your own, please. please?
also: has anyone ever heard the john cale album helen of troy? I can't decide whether to ebay it.
also: I have heard that the Spoon dude (who seems like a bit of a douche) bragged that they did the Stones "emotional rescue" one better on their falsettoey, mildly funky track "I turn my camera on". If he really said that, he's dumb cuz "emotional rescue" is way better. Also, this album is ok, but the last one was better, although Britt Daniels said that this one is clearly the best one. Yeah right, and TP3 reloaded is also the best R. Kelly album ever.
I bet no one is going to comment on this post, so it will probably come down shortly.
Apparently no one but the worm cares about the spelling bee issue. Or no one's reading the blog today. I swear that there are Tower people excited about this. I've talked to them about it.
OK, so weekend activities.
the lovely Mr. Chris T. is having a birthday party at his house. It's a cocktail party (his cocktails are the best in town) and the theme is "black and white and red all over".
The Popfest is happening in SF. I may attend if a certain friend is indeed going to form a Television Personalities cover band for the event to make up for the TVPs cancelling.
Saturday- too much stuff!
Star Trek con with No Kill I: the Next Generation
Lory's b-day at the Distillery with Rock the Light, Riff Randals, and Knightmares
show in Davis featuring the Not Not Fun showcase bands. A bunch of fun kid bands from L.A.
Originally uploaded by becklerg.
To elaborate on the reasons why there needs to be a Crest vs. Tower spelling bee
1)I'm sure there are people at both businesses who know they are bad spellers and don't want there to be a spelling be, but
a)no one would be stupid enough to judge anyone's intelligence on their spelling ability. There are plenty of smart people who can't spell for shit. and
b)if you are really nervous about it, don't participate, or if you participate and you are indeed kind of a crappy speller, you will probably be eliminated in the first round, so you will have to endure less than one minute of nervousness
2)The Crest already won the first battle of brawn, and people were tossing around other ideas for physical competition, but I think that there is a good chance that the Crest would win most of them. For instance, softball. I happen to know that Charles is quite good and I think that Candice played in high school or something, so right there they probably have the Tower whipped. It's not fair for the Crest to only agree to competitions which they'll probably win. I mean, for all I know they could win the spelling bee, too. Let's find out!!
There could be a simultaneous arm wrestling competition, too, if people want it.
Originally uploaded by becklerg.
After the post bonanza yesterday, I'm almost all posted out. I do want to stir up shit as far as the Tower vs. Crest spelling bee goes. Many of the Tower-ites are stoked on this and ready to do some spelling battle. I tried to indicate that with this picture from "Road Warrior". Crest, step up to the plate! Tower is throwing down the spelling gauntlet, how do you respond?
The Bunnygrunt/Razorcuts/Frenchman show was fun, although I cut out before the headlining Frenchman in pursuit of a full night's sleep. The ex-Razorcuts guy was really good. Fun show.
There is soooo much going on this weekend. I guess I will post about it a bit later.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Also, show tonight. Distillery. Indie/poppy bands I've never heard (ex-Razorcuts, bunnygrunt?) plus the Frenchman. Welcome Charles back to town. Show starts around 10:00
Ella has written a full Poinsettia review. Here it is. Bam, as Emeril would say. Read the whole thing. It's worth it. No skimming!
Well it was 5 days of desert doggin-it. It is amazing how tiring it is to live without shelter!! Our pioneer ancestors were hardy motherfuckers. Which reminds me of a dirty limerick:
The Pioneers had hairy ears.
They pissed through leather britches.
They wiped their ass with broken glass.
Those hardy sons of bitches.
When cunt was rare, they'd fuck a bear
and knife him, if he snitches.
They'd bang their cocks, against the rocks.
Those hardy sons of bitches.
They'd take their ass, upon the grass,
from fairies or from witches.
They used their dicks, as walking sticks.
Those hardy sons of bitches.
Yes, it was kind of like that, out at the old ghost town this time. The desert was taunting us. Challenging us to step up and become tough and leathery and really really dirty, just like her.
We unwittingly took up the gauntlet.....
Saturday: formal dinner party. A whole suckling pig was roasted in a pit. It was good, didn't poison anyone and there was much drinking. Notable outfits were Skipper in a tam o shanter, bow tie and immaculate tweed suit and Alice in a rainbow clown wig and gold bikini over her other clothes (Alice??? The invitation said Gown not Clown!!! I'm kidding!) As for me, I was trying to suck it in so I could wear a white evening gown. Perhaps a bit overdressed? oh well.
Sunday: most people left. At some point me and three people piled into a truck and drove the 50+ miles to try and get Ice. This means you have to drive the 50 miles back real fast, so you have some ice left. We hit the first town, CLOSED. Second town, out of ice, but they volunteered to call the next town for us to see if they had any. The phone conversation was like this: "Coldsprings? (which is the name of the next town) You got any Ice?" Coldsprings consisted of a bar/convenience store and a "motel" which was a long trailer, converted into tiny rooms, each with their own exterior door and one outhouse to share. We bought ALL of their ice for $14 including four shots of Jack Daniels. This had turned into the 150 mile ice run. We took an alternate route back to the ghost town and boy was that fortunate! We discovered Jeff and Mark Miller, broken down in the mi! ddle of the valley floor. They were at least 20 miles from any pavement and had no cell phone (not that it would have worked anyway). They had a flat tire, but for other reasons the tire wouldn't come off and they ended up breaking almost all the lug nuts OFF, trying to change the tire. They were not expecting to see us until Tuesday, when we would be driving out. They were very sunburned but happy to see us! They left the truck there and came back to Poinsettia with us for some heavy drinking. They decided to fix the car the next day.
About 30 minutes after we arrived back in town, Willy and Eason decide to take out the "Screaming Eagle" ( a 4x4 go cart kind of thing with a roll cage, goes real fast ). They should have been gone about 15 minutes. They didn't say where they were going, they just left. They were both pretty drunk. Almost everyone else left for the 160 mile round trip to the auto parts store. Well, 4 HOURS later, Willy and Eason are still missing! Eason's wife Liz and I are freaking out. We spent the whole day feverishly hiking, trying to find them and imagining them bleeding to death feebly yelling for help at the bottom of a canyon. There is no way in hell that we could have found them without a helicopter and heat sensing equipment. That valley is vast. Turns out that they went off roading to a nearby landmark, the car frame windmill. It is pretty bumpy the whole way there but they had no trouble until they cam! e across perfectly flat ground in front of the windmill. Eason attempted a high speed donut and flipped the eagle. In the crash, Willy's arm snapped the ignition key off. They realized they were not seriously hurt and tried to get it going, but the key wouldn't come out. They then walked back 9 miles to the ghost town in 95+ heat, without water. They showed up a bit bloody and bruised but fine. Yikes! They said that for the first 25 minutes, they were walking next to each other and making jokes, then the rest of the way they were 50 feet apart, in silence broken only by the occasional yell of "HELP!"
At about 9 pm there were headlight spotted comming into town. I had successfully conned two old friends from Detroit into flying out and renting a car in order to perish with us out in the desert. Awwww!
Sometime during the drunken drunken night, a girl from Portland who refused to give her real name and called herself "Sparkle", walked into the saloon and actually challenged me to a wrestling match. Now, I find that assuming pseudonyms at camping events smacks of burning man, so I wanted to take this girl out. I remember myself going through all the moves of the world famous Goulet Choke and I did it!!!!! I kicked her ass and actually made her eat dirt! Thanks Joel!
Also that night Willy invented "Fire Tong" which involves throwing burning logs down the mine shaft. Like so many things, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Everyone was mesmerized. For those of you unfamilliar with the the topography of the ghost town. The saloon is sitting on top of a maze of very deep mine shafts. The entry shaft is a few feet away, a vertical drop of about 75 feet. Fire Tong set the wood frame holding back the dirt, on fire. Had it been allowed to smolder unchecked, it would have resulted in the mine caving in and the saloon plunging into the earth. Fuck! P.S. the next morning we put out the smolder and please don't tell Tim White. It's all fine!
At some point I remember telling the world's funniest joke, about Butros-Butros Gali and the punchline was "He's Unilateral!!" People cried. I can't remember anymore than that.
car fixing day.
Finally we got to ditch out and went on a 4x4 adventure of grand proportions, in search of a back way (inspired by much weed smoking) to Walker Lake! We took the road of dreams. It was fucked up. Thankfully the truck was powered by Tony, who is a monster of offroading. He will drive 100 miles an hour on dirt roads normally crazed people will only drive 50 on.
Pearls of offroading wisdom he gave us: "Never look at what scares you because you will drive right for it." "The brakes are your enemy" "The throttle is your friend".
Walker Lake was great! It is salty. There are pelicans there. How weird is that? In the middle of the desert. The Military keeps most of the munitions they have in a place called Hawthrone, Nevada, on the banks of Walker Lake. It is creepy looking. They have built thousands of bunkers which face away from town, towards the lake. It looks like a 1950's nightmare. Weird place! Got to see my first supermarket since friday. It was actually quite overwhelming and I couldn't handle it. I did handle using their bathroom however.
Tuesday: I know it's gonna sound funny that you have to clean a ghostown, but that's what we did. On the drive out we almost stopped at the new whorehouse "Wild Cat Ranch" for beer but it looked terrible in the daylight. Whorehouses love a trailer.
No significant wildlife run-ins for me. But Beckler... Desert Rat says Hi. He is still cute.
Originally uploaded by becklerg.
Ha. Lame heading. Alert reader smiller alerted me to this alert. Cockeyed had a crazy adventure with the Foo Fighters in NY. On a much less interesting note, I saw his sister and her friend in Williamsburg on this same trip and thought to myself "I think those are Sac people". I was right! I can spot a Sac person a mile away. Well, his sister bartends at the Flame and looks like the Gilmore Girls girl, so it wasn't really her Sacness that I was sensing.
I also peeped March of the Penguins. It's cute as fuck and nice and short, as a nature doc should be. The anthropomorphizing was really out of control though. Morgan Freeman reads off a bunch of bullshit about how "the mother's loss was unbearable" or "the family feels the joy of reunion". Come on, these are birds with brains about as big as a pencil eraser. And Morgan Freeman stays oddly silent as the momma birds stand around and watch a baby get pecked to death by a gull. I guess he couldn't think of anything to say about their unbearable pain because they just sit their and watch the spectacle with their beady little eyes. And probably forget they even had a baby about five minutes after it's dead. But this movie is filled with fuzzy penguin babies and the miracle of life and all that crap. Check it out when it opens at Tower on friday.
Legendary local drummer Mike G.(formerly of the Popesmashers and chkchkchk) is back from the Big Easy for good. Or at least for a while. Somebody start a band with this guy, quick. Speaking of chkchkchk, I learned from the new Fader mag that they have a summer single coming out. It's two covers, one of which is the Nate Dogg song "Get Up''. The other is a Magnetic Fields cover. I had a heckuva time finding out about it on the internerd (that !!! spelling of their name can make things pretty difficult), but you can stream it here. The cover is really cool (for a change). I just checked, and of course good old Tonevendor has it in stock. What would we all do without Tonevendor?
In more music news, former Black Dicer and guy with a, um, healthy self-image Hisham Bharoocha is the subject of an entire magazine about him and his friends. Check it here. Weird.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
2 pounds fatty ground beef, like chuck
4 tablespoons tomato paste
2/3 cup minced onion 2 teaspoons salt
Juice of 1 lemon ½ teaspoon cinnamon 2 dashes cayenne
1 tablespoon ground allspice
1/3 cup pine nuts
Oil to brush on grill rack
Lemon wedges and pita bread, for serving.
1. Combine all ingredients but oil, lemon wedges, pita and salad in a bowl, and knead very well into a paste.
2. Hold a flat metal skewer - not nonstick, and at least 12 inches long - point up in one hand. Dip other hand in a bowl of water, take a handful of meat mixture and form it around base of skewer in a small sausage shape with pointed ends. Repeat, working your way up the skewer. Each skewer should hold three or four kebabs. (You can also just form meat into eight patties.)
3. Lay finished skewers on a sheet pan, and smooth kebabs with fingers, making sure they are fairly smooth and secured on skewers. Refrigerate at least 1 hour.
4. Prepare charcoal grill, or turn gas grill to medium-low. Spray or brush oil on clean grill rack, and set within a few inches of the fire. Fire should not be too hot, and rack should be at least several inches from heat source.
5. When rack is heated through, gently squeeze the kebabs to be sure they are secure on the skewers, and place skewers on grill. Meat should start sizzling gently; it should not spit and turn black. Cook undisturbed until deep brown, at least 7 minutes. When meat lifts easily from grill, slide a spatula under kebabs and turn over. Continue grilling until browned on both sides and juicy, but cooked through, 10 to 15 minutes total. Serve hot with lemon wedges and pita that has been warmed on the grill. Put a few spoonfuls of salad in each pita with meat.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings (8 skewers).
Friday, July 01, 2005
This should be an action-packed weekend and I'm probably going to Chico on monday, so I can tell you all the juicy tour gossip. So tune in next week.
I knew it! Just recently I was in a couple of different discussions about American Apparel and how crazy it's getting with the pornographic advertising and how they post Penthouse in their store and stuff. When I read that Jane article a couple of years ago where the CEO, Dov Charney, masturbated in front of the reporter (apparently with her consent) I knew a sexual harassement suit couldn't be far behind. It actually took quite a while, but ol Dov's in hot water now, and deservedly so. Check this:
In his marketing, Charney has been adept at weaving his libertarian sexual attitude with his progressive labor practices. But it's another matter to make that attitude a bedrock principle of the workplace. In their sexual harassment suits, two of the women accuse Charney of exposing himself to them. One claims he invited her to masturbate with him and that he ran business meetings at his Los Angeles home wearing close to nothing. Another says he asked her to hire young women with whom he could have sex, Asians preferred. All describe him using foul language in their presence, much of it demeaning to women. Says Keith A. Fink, an attorney for one of the women suing: "The work environment there makes Animal House look like choir practice."
And they mention the article too:
The suits follow a bizarre article last year in the women's magazine Jane. Charney was described as engaging in oral sex with a female employee and masturbating in front of the reporter. Charney doesn't deny taking part in any of the activities described in the article. He says he befriended the writer over the course of the two months it took her to research the piece. "I've never done anything sexual that wasn't consensual," Charney says. The reporter, Claudine Ko, confirmed his take on events to BusinessWeek
Here's yet another juicy quote:
"It was a company built on lechery," says a former stock person. "I thought it was a male contemporary perspective on feminism, but it turns out to be just a gimmick," says another ex-employee. And another: "I made sure to stay away from the store when I knew [Charney] was coming into town. It's not one person -- he's aiming for all women."
Just check the whole article here, if you're interested:
And, one more product endorsement, the American Apparel panties (I love that word, but I used to hate it. Panties! Panties!) are great, and can be purchased here.
And just so you don't forget, because it was so sweet, here's where you can go to download that Go-Betweens segment from fresh air.
Step 1. Go to Chico. 99 North. Pass Yuba. Holler at the ladies for me.
Step 2. Arrive in Chico and take the Chester Orland exit. Take a Left on Chester (First left. Its one way)
Step 3. Left on Chestnut. You are almost there. Crack open a road soda.
Step 4. Right on W 12th St. One block down and park. Look for a Van or Beau's black truck. Or listen for Beau. He sounds like a young James Earl Jones. Seriously, his house will be on the left side of the road. I'll post the address later. These directions are pretty Al so handle with care. Again, I'll post the address.Love you guys, stay frosty, -heckamax