Two things for this frigid Saturday…the first, something that only a few of you will *dig*, the next, well there isn’t a whole lot of *digging* to do, so just *read* it.
So, first, the wonderful elitism I feel sometimes. This is owed, in part, to four things (technically, three people and one genetic occurrence): First, the elitism I feel being a fan of They Might Be Giants. I owe that to Dr. William Pomerantz. In 1998, he mentioned he was going to see a They Might Be Giants’ concert. I thought the name sounded familiar, and it did, from their little jaunt on Nickelodeon’s Tiny Toons where the creators of the show had animated two of their songs, “Istanbul, Not Constantinople” and “Particle Man” two of their most well-known tracks from their most well-known album, Flood. Will informed me that they were a band and had been since the early 80’s. I was interested and a week before their concert Will lent me all their CD’s. It was a lot of material to absorb, but when the concert rolled around (in March of ’98) I was rocked and enjoyed it thoroughly. Since then, I have been a rabid fan, sharing that rabidity with only Will, Jade, Matt and a few scarce others. Granted, I have spread the music of TMBG to quite a few people who have taken to it like ducks to bread, but never to the sick extent that I have taken it, which I suppose is a good thing. Anyway, back to the elitism. In my high school, there were only three fans of TMBG, Will, Aaron Gunn and me (through Will). Aside from that? None that were at their first concert in Florida 5 years. What does that say? Nothing. Simply that I was enjoying something that hardly any other people enjoyed or even knew about. I brought this sick love of TMBG to college with me. In my four years there, I found three more people that really enjoyed TMBG. High school was one thing, that was Florida and no one there like anything that isn’t Country music or deep fried, but here? In New York City? Wow. I am one of the select few that know about the sheer joy of They Might Be Giants’ music. And that makes me feel special. Makes me feel unique. Make s me feel elite. So Will was the first.
Will turned me on to a band that has a very small, very rabid fan base. But then this second person (who I actually met at a TMBG concert, making her a very special friend indeed) has turned me on to something quite a bit bigger than TMBG and quite a bit smaller. This special friend is called Jade. And she lives in the former island penal colony for pickpockets and thugs…Australia. She turned me on to the entire continent of Australia, which I truly hope to visit someday once I’ve wrapped myself in plastic to prevent being eaten/attacked/poisoned/stung by ten of the world’s ten most deadly spiders, seven of the world’s most deadly snakes, cute but poisonous duck-billed platypi, cute but violently moody koalas ( I still have the newspaper clipping that Jade sent me about how one jumped down from a tree, unprovoked, and tore a woman’s ear off), ugly but lethal crocodiles, bloodthirsty but bloodthirsty great white sharks and a slew of unevolved animals that would not hesitate to destroy me utterly. The other thing she turned me on to was a band called TISM. As far as I know, it is only known in Australia and to those Outsiders who have been to Australia. This band is beyond description. From what Jade has told me there are twelve members of the band or so and they always perform in masks so no one knows who they are. Their songs address such topics as pre-destination, apathy, the fact that when you’re 25-30 years old, you only have “40 years then death”, Hitler as a scatophile, the fact that you’re only five yards from a fuckwit (one of the best things to come out of Australia is the word “fuckwit” and, thankfully, it only sounds cool coming out of an Aussie), even if you’re the last person on Earth (“be there none left on Earth but you, one thing will still remain true)” and more fun stuff. Jade has been totally rocking from the moment I met her to this very second. Two years ago she found out my Birthday was on the 25th of January on the 20th and flew over for my Birthday pajama party. She also accompanied me to Harvard and Amherst to meet Phil and Will where I proceeded to lose her in Boston in February wearing only a skimpy “whore dress”. There was a night at Harvard that involved spiced rum and chesty-bonts of which we can never speak again and a champagne party at Amherst where nothing but silk touched my skin. In my senior year of college, Jade lived in my dorm for a whole month and became enraged when her vodka-filled watermelon was tapped without her being there, which is understandable. Jade has also introduced me to a plethora of Aussie goodies that many of you will never enjoy…again making me feel super-elite. And I lot of people have friends in other continents, but they all suck, especially when compared to Jade.
Then there’s Phil. He taught me the definition of “lovesexy”, “swarthy”, “ooterus” and then redefined them all. He also taught me it’s okay to be cruel as long as you look good. Also, he brought me to the Gates of Hell and back again safely. I chased him with a mace, he directed me in my best performance ever…as both Uma Thurman and her boyfriend, Richard Ratcliffe. He hit me in the face with a French Silk Pie, I served hors d'oeuvres at his New Year’s party and vomited Mimosas. Slap and tickle…pain and pleasure. Phil was willing to send all of us to jail just to spite one fat little man who now has a faggy little goatee and the greatest work of film ever created.
Phil is the voice in my head that tells me to do bad things and Will is the voice that tells me how I can do them worse and vice versa. Being in their presences is, to quote Dr. Gonzo “OCH! Just OCH!”
And then the genetic occurrence…I’m really tall. The root of the word “elite” is the Latin “eligere”, meaning “to pick out, to choose”. My height enables me to be “picked out” of a crowd easily. Now the Latin root of my name “paulus” means “small”, making my very self a contradiction. To quote Walt Whitman, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes).” Again, a reference to my immensity. Also, I believe that I am a demigod and the next step in human evolution. So between Will, Jade, my own dementia, various other elite aspects of my life, my support from Walt Whitman and the Romans and the fact that They Might Be Giants are having a concert on my Birthday this year…I really shouldn’t be in touch with any of you but I suppose I must build a strong base of friends so I can climb your bloated corpses to the top after the world has evolved and only myself a few tall demigods are left.
And now, The Golden Teat of the Goddess of Victory.
After writing all that shit that’s meaningless to most everyone but Phil, Will and Jade I’m just going to jump right to the point. Almost exactly 23 years ago…a demigod was born. I was that demigod. A few days ago, I had an audition for a Nike short film (which, in the business means a long commercial basically). The day after that, I was brought back in for a call back. I met the director, took some direction and shot the shit (as it’s called in the business). The day after that, I was told that I had been booked for the short film (booked is another ‘in this business’ term). This project shoots tomorrow, a week from my Birthday. I’ll find out more about where you can see this, but hopefully I won’t need to, you’ll just see me before the next Harry Potter movie on the big screen, being as beautiful as a bean can be. I am now Baby Kermit the Frog and Chuck in the Nike short film “Speed”. My assumption is that this is either going to be on the Net at Nike’s web site like the now-famous BMW films or, as I inferred, before movies in the theatre. Hopefully the latter because the residuals would be SO sexy. That’s about it.
And now a final chapter in this entry:
While I was updating my journal, my girlfriend, Christina came in and asked what I was doing. I told her I was updating my journal. She asked if she was in it. I said no. She said she was NEVER in it. So, unlike some sort of Lucy/Ricky thing where she will dress as a character in the alphabet so I will input her into my journal, I’ll end this right now. CHRISTINA IS GREAT. SHE HAS A PROFOUND EFFECT ON ALL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE. SHE IS WARM AND FUN AND IF SHE EVER INSERTS HERSELF INTO MY JOURNAL LIKE THIS AGAIN, I WILL MENTION HER ONE MORE TIME TO SAY GOOD BYE. There you go, Cum Bunny. That’s all people, nothing else to see here, go on home.
P.S. Out of curiosity, I spell checked “fuckwit” and the two suggestions were “bucket” and “folkway”. I feel that both of these words should, from this point, be used as insults.
P.S.S. If any one would like to go to the TMBG concert with me and most likely Chris and Gia, buy a ticket for the 9:30 show. For more info, go to http://www.joespub.com/joespub/pub_nowplaying.html and then go to January 25th on the calendar.
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