Harry Brown...from Munich.

10.27.10

3:22 pm

Who can guess...which two movies...I have watched recently...?

Yes, you in the soccer jersey!!!

Wrong.

Wrong.

So, two nights ago, I watched Harry Brown.

At first I thought it was The Punisher but British and with Michael Cain as Frank Castle, then I thought it was Last House On The Left but British and with Michael Cain as the parents of the girl that was raped and killed, but then I just decided it was your typical revenge flick but British and with Michael Cain.

It was a really great revenge flick though.

It went by the book, but it was a very well written book, na'mean?

There are quite a few great moments in it.

One element that did set it aside from your typical action revenge movie like, I don't know, Payback or something in that vein, is that Michael Cain, although he was a Marine (retired, yeah?), he was in his 70's and had emphysema, so it wasn't like him coldly picking off his six targets without any trouble, it was him just barely being able to take on these punks with his training because he was hindered by his health.

There wasn't this aura of invulnerability you get from most movies like this.

In the end, it was just great to see Alfred get some screen time.

And I think of of the lead cops in it was the speaking voice of 2D.

Whatever the case: brutal, well-made revenge flick starring Alfred Pennyworth.

Check it out.

P.S. The porn version of this movie?

Hairy Brown.

Last night, I watched Munich, all two hours and forty four minutes of it.

In one sitting!

All of it!!

By myself!!!!

I know!!!!!!!!!

First off, Steven Spielberg...let it go.

The Holocaust was like a hundred years ago (if it actually happened at all, that is).

Hitler is dead (if he ever existed at all, that is).

Get over it (over what? Am I right, guys?!).

Next, excellent movie.

Why was it so excellent?

Not because it was about the Jews getting some back, not because it was well-shot and the story well-told, not because there was a toy maker turned bomb maker, no.

It was awesome because, not only was James Bond in it....not only was the villain from the most recent Bond movie in it...BUT BECAUSE JAMES BOND, THE VILLAIN FROM THE MOST RECENT BOND MOVIE AND DRAX (Michael Lansdale), THE VILLAIN FROM FUCKING ''MOONRAKER' WAS IN IT!!!! AND DRAX WAS THE FATHER OF THE VILLAIN FROM THE MOST RECENT BOND MOVIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, James Bond was fighting alongside Julius Caesar.

The whole thing was like a fan fiction wet dream.

And, speaking of wet dreams, it might have won this year's award for Most Unsexy Sex Scene.

Also downloaded the Undead Nightmare expansion pack for Red Dead Redemption last night.

Remember RDR?

I talked about it months ago.

GTA Horse?

Yeah?

So, over the past few months, they've released a handful of DLC packs, mostly multiplayer stuff (I've never checked out the multiplayer and feel okay about that), costume stuff, extra weapons etc., but, about a month ago, I heard rumors about the designers adding zombies to the game.

Turns out they did more than that.

In this expansion pack, there's a brand new single player campaign involving a strange disease that sweeps the land, turning people AND animals into to undead monsters.

I am so fucking excited for this.

In a few days, I'll have some time and play my first Zombie Western.
Peep this.

I'm looking forward to: the main character's first encounter with the living dead and to dragging a zombie across the plains until it falls apart.

I'm in support of "zombifying" games, if it works.

Imagine a GTA game where a city the size of Manhattan is populated with the undead?

Fingers crossed.

Still quite a bit of work to do before the party, but, as always, it's going to sparkle when it's finished.

Like vampire porn actors.

All right.

I'm gonna go fondle my sweaters.

Jerk Off

10.20.10

6:50 pm

Had my chain yanked like a motherfather on Friday.

Nicely, but yanked nonetheless.

Fuckers.

Anyway.

Watched Backdraft this weekend.

Meh.

Fire bad.

In the end though, all the fires were put out, so we're okay for now.

Not sure which came first, Silence of the Lambs or Backdraft, but, if Silence came first, then Ron Howard took Donald Sutherland's character from Anthony Hopkins like a mofo.

He did a great job, but I could totally see Ron being like, 'hey, Donald, have you seen Silence of the Lambs? Okay, you're like him but giddier and with less eating people.'

Finished the fourth season of Mad Men with Christina, who is now caught up in the gritty, 60's web just as I am and who thinks it's adorable that I have a thing for Catherine Hendricks.

I'd recommend her and I never meet though, as my "thing" might become less adorable and more...throbbing and uncircumcised?

Ne c'est pas?.

Just being honest...

Listened to The Cardigan's 1997 album Gran Turismo.

The first listen was really impressive, especially since I'd only heard 'Lovefool' before, but, after three or four playthroughs, it gets less impressive and her voice becomes more grating (unlike mine in George Washington Diarrhea's cover of Shakira's "Se Quiere, Se Mata", which you can listen to here).

Some excellent production on that one though.

It really is Garbage, but Swiss instead of Scottish.

Also listened to Die Antwoord's debut album today.

First reaction was: What?

Then: What the fuck?

Thing is, it's fun as hell.

Kind of disturbing at times; for instance, the 8 minute song, 'Beat Boy', which, if I'm interpreting the heavily accented broken English correctly, is about a really hot chick that gets a penis attached (not a sex change, just a penis attachment) then rapes the surgeon with her new penis and then gets sexually assaulted in a graveyard (posthumously, of course) by the lead male singer, Ninja.

It was funny up 'til that point.

The line "now you've got two great boobs and a penis" is repeated several times, you know, in case that slipped by the listener.

The last track is just straight up hilarious and, I will never be sure, might be completely in...South African?

Is that what the language is called?

The track is called "'Doss Dronk' and is a slurred reenactment (?) of a night of drunkenness.

It has a crazy, gypsy stomp tune to it that is so piratical you'll want to be wearing a patch while listening to it.

And, whatever it's called, there are a few tracks sung in both "English" and whatever language people from South Africa speak.

Dutch? German? Derman? Gutch

It's nuts, whatever it is and sounds great.

There's also a song by the high-pitched female of the group, Yolandi Vi$$er.

And, yes, I think the dollar signs are, legally, part of her name.

The song is called 'Rich Bitch' and it centers mostly around how Yolandi is, well, a female with money.

She brags about how, now that she's rich, she decides, on a case by case basis, whether or not she wants to answer her phone and also how she now shops at Woolworth's.

Okay, I've never been to South Africa, so I have no fucking idea if these things are real or if she is just playing some REALLY high level mind games with the audience, but...god damn I have no idea what to make of these people.

I look forward to talking with Linza, the only South African person I know, to get her opinion and find out, hopefully, what in the FUCK these psychos are about.

Oh, I almost forgot their DJ, DJ Hard Dick.

THAT would have been embarrassing.

I'd like to be clear that, for the most part, although I have no idea what's going on in these songs, I do enjoy it, it's compelling and energetic music and I found myself hanging on to every word to try and make some sense of it.

I don't do that with the typical American rapper (usually because I don't care about how many bitches they can fit into cars and vice versa).

I've also started listening to Prick's first album, which I missed when it first came around.

Very enjoyable.

They were one of the handful of bands Reznor signed to his Nothing Records label back in the mid-90's and they have some similarities.

Prick is some of the heavy of NIN without the Mope.

Anyway again.

Had a blast recording at Google yesterday. Those folks make work look like fun and fun look like sine waves.

You'd get that if you worked for Google.

Every second I was there felt like a Jonathan Coulter song.

I also made sure, under the "corporation" field, to enter "The Fatty Patrol, Inc.", so now Google has our institution in its records.

Now it's only a matter of time before we get bought out by Google and they'll find a free, more efficient way to harpoon and melt the fat people of the world.

Viva la future.

Is that all?

Had a solid audition today but who cares a farting fuck about solidity?

I'll ask Boost Mobile what Beyonce asked some slacker muse of hers years ago: Can you pay my billz? Can you pay my telephone billz? Can you pay my au-to-mo-billz?

Well, Boost Mobile, can you?

You know, it just struck me that, after she demanded to know if you could pay her billz, she demanded that all independent women threw their hands up and paid for the watches on their arms and the rings on their fingers.

So...I guess she just wants to know that the guy can pay for these things but still be allowed to pay for it herself?

But what about than demanding that men, if they like it, put a ring on it?

Beyonce.

Hey.

Shut the fuck up.

Sit down, make up your fucking fickle ass R&B mind, then write one song ONE SONG where you make a definite and permanent stance on the financial relationship between men and women.

Or just stop.

Okay?

For me?

Thanks, B.

I owe you one.

Ah, and I just found out that Darren Aronofsky is set to direct the next Wolverine movie.

Wow.

That should be...intense.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

10.11.10

4:00 pm

Here is a list of the things I have been making my Microsoft Excel Spreadsheet say today:

Monkey monkey monkey..........poop.

Scrotum penis anus meat

Come on guys stop it seriously stop it ow ow ow come on you guys!

I'm not shouting! All right I am! I'm shouting! I'm shouting! I'm shou-!

Rumba ting

Silly fuck stupid face

Butthole surfers

Everybody wang chung tonight. Everybody have fun tonight

If you want my body...and you think I'm sexy...come on baby let me know.

Viggy Viggy Viggy! You have been a bad monkey!

Poopy poop poop poo.

Zombies! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! Run for your life or they will eat you bbbbbrrrrrrraaaaaiiiiinnnnnnnnssssssss!

(the "ah" and the "brains" comes spilling out like some ridiculous robot vocal warm up, it's brilliant)

Deedle deedle dee! Tingle jingle doo! Love me softly! Love my poo!

5:02 pm

Just spent some time typing some Mighty Boosh crimps for Chris because she's home sick.

I'm so good.

Okay.

Back to the grind.

Grind? Grind stone?

Millstone?

Whatever.

I was only kidding.

I'm just going to make the computer man speak more funny, then get lunch, then more funny talk.

Hee hee.

I stipud.

Stupid in the streets...can't socialize...

10.6.10

3:36 pm

What a rush.

My day.

Has been.

I set my alarm for 11:40 in order to catch the 12:20 showing of The Social Network at the Kip's Bay AMC.

Made it just as the first preview was starting. People, if you've ever gone to see a movie on a schedule (i.e. need to be somewhere right after it ends) add twenty minutes.

Literally.

There were twenty minutes of previews.

Again: literally.

Then, the movie started.

Here goes:

Overall, it didn't live up to expectations, but how could it when the expectation was that it was going to give me a blowjob and a hundred dollars?

Citizen Kane?

The Godfather?

No.

I don't know if it'll even get nominated for an Oscar, not that that really matters.

But a great movie?

Yes.

The acting was excellent; Jesse Isenberg is officially no longer the poor man's Michael Cera and Justin Timberlake did a rock solid job as usual.

Also, the script was so Sorkin that my pants burst.

There's so much snappy dialogue it's as if the movie is set in a parallel universe constructed solely of one-liners and depositions. Then again, most of these characters did go to Harvard (*puff puff*).

It didn't feel very Fincher though. Aside from the lack of serial killers, backwards aging and Meatloaf in a fat suit, it didn't have that Fincher look. If someone had shown me this movie without telling me it was David Fincher, I would never have guessed it.

And finally, the music.

From the moment I heard that Reznor and Ross were scoring the story of Facebook, I wondered how the hell they were going to A.) make that interesting and B.) not make it too Nine-Inch-Nails-playing-behind-the-story-of-Facebook.

Every trailer and clip I saw seemed to fit less and less with the music Reznor and Ross were creating.

Then, about a week ago, the score was released.

I listened to it and listened to it and heard a Nine-Inch-Nails-ass Nine Inch Nails instrumental album.

Maybe a little less intrusive, a little more atmospheric, even cinematic at points, but certainly not for a movie about Facebook.

Well.

I was right.

I'm not going to say that the music was jarring or took me out of the movie, it's just that, nine times out of ten, it didn't seem to fit. The overall effect was that, yes, it made the film darker, but the subject matter just wasn't that dark. There were moments when it worked just fine, but there were also moments when I was puzzled as to why a piece of music was being used in a specific scene. Again, never to the point that the movie was ruined, but it just didn't make a lot of sense to me.

I think what may have happened was that Fincher has wanted to work with Reznor since the Survivor movie got cancelled and the Fight Club musical (yes, that was real) never happened, but nothing he's worked on since then has lined up with both of their schedules and Fincher was just ready to do it.

In interviews, Fincher talks about how he asked Reznor last year and Reznor said that he couldn't give it his best and refused.

Fincher shot the movie and then, when Reznor called him back to apologize for not doing it and to keep him in mind for his next film, Fincher told him he was still waiting on him for it.

Fincher wanted him to do this from day one, no matter what it was.

Or at least that's how it felt.

It felt like a massive Nine Inch Nails fan getting the chance to work with Nine Inch Nails, not only that, but to have Nine Inch Nails music crafted for your project.

In the end, it doesn't matter.

I've now purchased two scores in my entire life: The Social Network and Requiem For A Dream.

I don't listen to RFAD anymore and, in a few months, except for a few tracks, I'll most likely not listen to The Social Network either.

Doesn't mean it isn't good, just means I'm not into a solid hour plus of instrumental music.

Whatever.

The Social Network is a great movie and, unless you're a trainspotting Nine Inch Nails fanboy like me, you'll enjoy it.

Yeah.

THE WEEKEND...BEGINS...NOW

10.4.10

3:30 pm

FOOOLED YOOU!!!

The weekend does not, in fact, begin now, or any time NEAR now.

Fool.

Heh.

Anyway, over the weekend, aside from nursing my sickness, I finished Dead Rising 2, to my delighted surprise, with an "S" rank!

Lemme break it on down fuh yuh...

Way back when, when Capcom used to make Resident Evil games where your character moved like a goddamn tank, you'd receive different grades at the end of the game, based on your performance and such factors as how long you took, how many times you saved your game, how many health items you used, etc.

The possible grades were "A" through "F" and, above an "A"...the "S" rank, "S" standing for "Superior".

Superior to what, I do not know.

Certainly not the Japanese as even their most retarded retard could utterly destroy any Gaijin dog in any video game ever.

Whatever the case, "getting an 'S' Rank" has become synonymous with doing the best one is able to do in a game.

And, despite not defeated every enemy or saving every survivor in the game, I received the "S" rank my first time through.

On the other hand, my character is only level 33 of 50 and I've only achieved 24% of the games trophies.

Not that I'm much of a trophy guy, this is just to show how winning a game and finishing a game these days can be two totally different things.

Another indication: at the end of my first playthrough, I had killed just about 5,000 zombies.

There is a trophy for killing 72,000.

Yeah.

DR2 allows one to restart the game after you've finished at the same level with the same equipment and skills so it should be more fun this time round.

Less difficult and more zombie-killy.

Aside from the unique save system, the game was wholly enjoyable.

I highly recommend it.

Any one want to play co-op?

Along with the slaughter of zombies, I watched Where The Wild Things Are.

What a wash.

I never worshipped the book when I was a kid so watching it was...kind of pointless, empty.

Nothing happened in it.

They romped.

I have nothing bad to say about romping, God knows, but why are they romping?

It's fun to have fun, yes, we know, but, come on, you can't make a whole movie based on that fact!

Unless you're Spike Jonze, apparently.

I'd heard great things about this movie as well so that probably had some negative impact too.

Eh.

Whatever.

In the end, Max remained a little shit.

Excellent moral, Spike.

Sadly, I did NOT see The Social Network this weekend as I was sick and couldn't be bothered, but I might just set out early some day this week and catch it on 86th.

Still hearing good things.

I might even eat a hot dog and indulge in some papaya dust juice.

Anyone want to join me?

At noon?

In the middle of the week?

To watch a movie?

No?

Anyone?

God damn it.

You fucking Daylighters...

Anyway, despite my sick, I had (what I thought) to be an okay audition this morning.

It had almost the exact same feel and thrust as the thing I recorded last week, so maybe that's a good sign?

This one is about Double Tree by Hilton.

Apparently, when you check in, they give you a cookie.

Christina, you'll be happy to know as soon as I read that, I asked the recording engineer what if you're gluten and dairy allergic.

Blank stare.

What do we do at the barbeque, if we're vegan xmax.

And there isn't even hot-house corn.

After the audition, I asked the guys if, if I get this, I get to meet Paris Hilton.

That lead us to a truncated discussion of her infamous fuck tape.

Did you know she takes a phone call in the middle of it?

And the guy gives this brilliant look to the camera like, "yeah, she did just takes a phone call but I'm erect and she's willing".

Such expression.

Love it.

Finally also again, as I furiously twittered this afternoon (although, often times, I find that 140 characters is not nearly enough to fully express my fury), Cake is accepting callers for this beautiful, pendant key chain.

Or might as well be.

I got an e-mail that ACTUALLY said "Holy cow! Cake is taking pre-sale orders for their new album!"

IT ISN'T COMING OUT FOR FOUR MONTHS!!!

AND, here's the thing (Note: there will be more than one thing) that bothers me:

For $15 you get the CD, autographed by the band (whatever).

For $25 you get the autographed CD, a t-shirt (limited edition, although I could buy the same one off their website now if I wanted) and the album on vinyl.

For $30, same as the $25, but with a 7" single (the b-side is just another track from the album, nothing new or unreleased)...and a digital download of the album.

NO!

WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONG!!!

You have the digital for cheap, maybe $10, because it's just a file on a computer, there's nothing physical, it isn't costing you any money, THEN the CD for $15 INCLUDING A LINK TO THE DIGITAL DOWNLOAD THE MOMENT THE ALBUM COMES OUT BECAUSE YOU LOVE AND RESPECT YOUR FANS AND THE FACT THAT THEY HAVE STUCK WITH YOU THROUGH SIX YEARS OF RELEASING SWEET FUCK ALL! NOT AT HIGHER PRICE POINTS!!! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ONLY GIVING OUT THE DIGITAL WITH PACKAGES OF THIRTY DOLLARS OR MORE?! THE MORE PHYSICAL STUFF YOU HAVE, THE HIGHER THE PRICE!!! WHAT KIND OF 21ST CENTURY, INTERNET BUSINESS MODEL IS THAT, YOU FUCKING ECO-SNARK ASSHOLES???!!!

AND ELEVEN MOTHERFUCKING TRACKS?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR POCKET-MULCHING MINDS?!

THAT'S LESS THAN TWO FUCKING SONGS PER YEAR SINCE YOU LAST RELEASED ANYTHING WORTH LISTENING TO!!!!!!!!

YOU GODDAMN FILTHY DOG PENISES! YOU HAVE MADE AN ECO-VILLAIN OF ME!

FROM THIS POINT ON, I PROMISE TO DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO COUNTERACT EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EVER DONE AND CONTINUE TO DO TO BETTER THIS WORLD!!!

EVERY TREE YOU'VE GIVEN OUT AT EVERY SHOW I SHALL FIND AND BURN DOWN!!!!!

FOR EVERY SWEATSHOP-FREE SHIRT YOU SELL, I WILL BUILD A SWEATSHOP!!

AND FOR EVERY YEAR YOU DO NOT RELEASE AN ALBUM FROM THIS POINT ON I WILL ERADICATE AN ENTIRE SPECIES FROM THE PLANET!!!!

YOU COULD HAVE RELEASED A DOUBLE ALBUM, YOU COULD HAVE THROWN THE LIVE ALBUM IN AS A BONUS, BUT NOOOOOOOOOO AND NOW THIS IS HAPPENING!!!

MY CARBON FOOTPRINT SHALL STAMP YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE!!!!!

Anyway, the pre-order page had clips from the album and there's some good sounding stuff on there.

I'll keep you updated.

Think that's all.

Oh, and Will and I need to come to an agreement about that thing.

Tick tick tick, my friend, tick tick tick.

*Retard Happy Noise*

9.30.10

7:48 pm

Not a good retard happy noise.

Some chowder head at my job has this horrible forced look-at-how-jovial-I-am-looklooklook!!!! laugh he always follows up with this "that laugh just now didn't express how funny I thought that last comment was!!!!" noise that is basically a long drawn out "e".

Not like a tittering Japanese schoolgirl, just like a "man, we are just having the best time ever" noise.

I used to get annoyed every time he did it, but then I thought, what if he really is retarded?

So, I'm no longer annoyed with him, I just think he is mentally retarded.

Next: The Social Network soundtrack dropped Tuesday and I've been listening to it.

Yes I have.

Pretty much what I had expected based on that five track free sampler thing they released: it sounds a bit like stuff from the Ghosts record with more or less of one element or other.

Very solid for a film score, but it furthers enflames my curiosity: how the hell are they going to make such a dynamic and moody score work with the goddamn story of Facebook?!

Guess I'll find out this weekend, possibly with Kaitlyn, possibly with Ray, possibly with both or possibly alone.

Whatever.

Some stand out tracks include "Intriguing Possibilities", which has a great, triumphant chord progression and wonderful energy, "The Gentle Hum of Anxiety", an uneasy, emotive piece which causes the skin to crawl, perhaps because elements are slightly reminiscent of some Silent Hill sound work, and "In Motion", which makes one want to dance in the future.

There's also a version of "In The Hall of the Mountain King", which, despite being done by Nine Inch Nails, still feels whimsical and mischievous, but darkly so.

This Mountain King has a Korg in his Hall!!!!

Get it!?

WOO!

Weird side note regarding a few of the tracks: because of the "8-bit" instrumentation, some of the tracks sound like they're taken from the score to The Warriors.

I've also been demolishing Dead Rising 2.

Interesting and frustrating in the most Japanese of ways.

The game starts with a countdown of 72 hours (game time, not real time, I'd say three seconds equals a minute on the clock so...plus cut scenes and that...you have about 5 hours, give or take).

At the end of that time, the game ends; the military arrives and does their thing (whatever that may be, I'm hoping for a rescue and not a fire bombing) no matter where you are of what you're doing.

You have to manage your time in this game like none other I've ever played.

I won't bore you with the details, but the game has a lot of limitations so you can't really enjoy all the aspects of it.

You can duct tape a machete to the handle of a push broom and fucking raze hoards of zombies with it though, so, I'm happy.

Just last night, I ran over about a hundred zombies with a golf cart while tooting "Shave and A Haircut" on the horn.

It was...liberating.

I'm thinking that, by the time I'm ready to put down Dead Rising 2, The Walking Dead should be on.

That, friends and debutants, is what I call...SYNCHRONICITY!!!!!

TASTE IT.

Finally, I have been watching Rome (the show, not the country).

It's...dramatic.

This weekend, aside from doing Social Network, Chris and I will begin the decoration process.

Prepare to be blown away.

You know what?

Fuck that.

You CAN'T be prepared for what we're doing.

So.

Prepare, instead, to shit your pants...but in your brain.

That's right.

Brain Shit.

Ready yourselves.

See you in a month, muthafucka.*

* Spoken as Panthro

Would You Like To See My Mask...

*OR* An Overly Detailed Recounting

9.27.10

3:50 pm

[Message redacted.] 

I had made a list of several things I was going to do so as to NOT waste the day sleeping or snoozing or napping or grinding my genitals into a fine, fishy paste.

While at home, I was going to try, one last time, as a final gambit in the most one-sided game of Phone Tag EVER, to contact my connection at Brillstein (home of such no-names as Brad Pitt, Paul Rudd, Natalie Portman etc.), get in touch with my cousin who has some high ranking position at Pearson Education (which is affiliated with Simon and Schuster Audio Books) and talk about sending my audio reel and demo and such, work on constructing the hallway soundscape for this years Halloween party and, finally, begin work on a special project suggested to me by one William "Rocket Man" Pomerantz.

Once these things were finished or at least begun, I was going to head over to my manager's office and pick up a check that had been waiting for me.

I placed the call to my Brillstein connection and left a message, considering the matter closed forever, spoke to my cousin's secretary, a lovely lady named Nancy who sent me the last three Dark Tower audio books for free and who informed me my cousins was eating a sandwich and would call me back and completed work on the hallway music.

I was about to embark upon the Secret/Safe Project when my phone rang.

It was a Brillstein number.

Long story short, I had a nice conversation with Stacy who said, now that's she's spoken to me and seen my reel/demo etc., that she was going to pass my name onto any agents she comes in contact with.

Maybe it means something, maybe it doesn't, but I felt good about it.

Anyway, after the conversation, I set out to pick up my money Lebowski.

I did so and was informed by Adrienne, my manager's excellent assistant, that she had just sent me an e-mail about a thing.

I had been recommended personally to a production company for a voice over project.

They wanted me to record some copy at home and send the file in to them.

Friday they wanted me in to record a "scratch" track at noon and, if they were needed, to do revision's on Monday at one.

I said: Good.

I went home, recorded the paragraph a few times, did some editing, mulled it over and then played what I had for my one and only who helped me cobble together what we thought was the best possible recording.

Then we cuddled and waited for my sister, who was coming up to New York for the third weekend running (this time for the ATDA conference and the Eels show).

She arrived with her brand new, 6 week old kitten, Dr. Spectre, in tow.

My sweet Christ, I have never seen anything this small and wonderful.

I quite lost my shit.

Eventually, we all fell asleep.

I woke early and even by normal people standards, around 9:45 am.

Hm.

Actually, never mind, that is still late for the Daylighters.

I called in again (I hadn't worked enough on the Secret Project) as my fake headache was now a full blown fake migraine, and I couldn't hardly speak, let alone work...

Anyway, I had been informed the day before that this recording was between me and one other person, so I wanted to make sure I was up and ready to go if I got the call.

At ten or so, I called my manager's office and was told by Adrienne that she was also waiting to hear back about the mp3 I had recorded and sent.

To kill time until the phone call did or did not come it, I began work on the aforementioned Secret Project.

Things were moving along nicely and then Adrienne called again.

The production house wanted me to come in to record the script today, in about forty five minutes.

I hopped on the train and headed down to Bond street to Greencard.

I arrived and recorded a thing for a new casino/resort opening in Atlantic City.

The two engineers were excellent, exactly the kind of guys you'd picture working in a production house on Bond street and we all had a fun time.

After that, I went home, at which point the kitten fall asleep on my shoulder.

Soon, Kathy and Christina came home, and we all watched Billy Madison.

That movie is still solid gold.

Then, we all slept again.

Saturday, I awoke late and showered in preparation for the concert.

Kathy arrived back from her second awful day at the awful, pointless conference and we set off for Terminal 5, about two hours before doors.

We were, literally, the only people there for a good twenty minutes.

Eventually, three or four more people showed up and Kathy and I passed the time playing hangman.

I must say, when I showed up 6 hours before doors for Nine Inch Nails at Terminal 5, I was about thirty people from the front.

Eels needs to step up their advertising.

Anyway.

At around six or so, we were all moved from outside the venue to the roof deck to wait there.

Not sure why, but we were still first so I really didn't mind.

Kathy was complaining about some chick in her personal space so we switched places and I farted on her.

No effect.

Which was kind of creepy.

Eventually, we were allowed onto the floor.

Kathy and I were dead center, on the barricade.

Once we'd staked our claim, we promptly sat down, backs to the barrier.

People began to trickle in, including the loudmouth from the last time I saw Eels.

What follows is background.

This guy is one of those people who has seen every show by every artist ever.

And he also knows all the bands,

All of them.

He is maybe...forty? And trying, desperately, to prove to people under forty that he is still hip and a part of the scene, any scene, every scene.

At the last Eels show I was at, I was maybe third or fourth in line and he was first or second, telling anyone with ears about how he knows Mark and he saw Eels when it was just him in L.A. in an empty pool etc.

Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, but seriously, who fucking cares.

Unless you're going to give me money or backstage passes, shut the fuck up.

Anyway.

That show was at the Highline Ballroom and was very quiet.

So quiet you could hear individual audience comments.

There weren't many people making comments.

There was that understanding amongst the audience members, like when everyone knows not to clap along or to not scream stupid shit during the show, you know?

A vibe..

There was really only one person who didn't seem to get the vibe.

Yes.

Him.

Whenever E or The Chet (E's multi-instrumentalist) did something excellent on stage, in the resulting appreciative silence after said excellent thing, he would yell "BEAUTIFUL!!!".

Guy, we all know it was beautiful, but you saying that it was beautiful makes it less beautiful.

Cock.

Anyway, at one point, both E and the Chet were fiddling with stuff, getting ready for the next song.

There was maybe ten seconds of silence, not uncomfortable, just, silent.

This man would have none of that.

Apropos of nothing, he yells, "Thank you Mark! Thank you Chet! We love you very much, thank you!"

Forty year old guy.

At the concert alone.

E looks distractedly at the microphone and says, "Sir, please do not address the stage."

It was...well.."BEAUTIFUL!!!"

Back to Saturday.

This time, the man had brought his son.

Wait, back up.

So, he sees Kathy and I sitting there and says, "You guys just sitting there now, right? You're going to stand for the show, right?"

Before we can respond to such a retarded, question, he goes on.

"Because, you know, I drove five hours to get here with my sons, you know? So we could be up front."

Kathy, truly my sister, takes the words from my mouth and says, "Well you should have left earlier."

I just smiled, as I had JUST THEN recognized this wang as the guy from last year.

He then made a mental note to never speak to either of us again and went over to his son (who he called "honey". I have ALWAYS had a problem with men calling their male children, of any age, "honey" or "sweetheart" or anything like that. It's just fucking creepy.) and tried to find a good place to stand before engaging the poor fuckers three people to our right in "conversation" until the first opener came on.

Kathy and I nicknamed him "Honeyman".

Eventually, the first opener came on.

Clara Rose, a "rock n roll ventriloquist" from Brooklyn.

She had maybe twenty minutes or so, during which time she broke out a Keith Richards dummy and a bigoted 1920's dummy named something Sinclair.

She sang a bit and told some corny ass, off color jokes, pretty amazing overall.

The 1920's one would occasionally whisper that he was going to kill us all and at one point, he told us he was going to cut open our abdomens and fill them with salt water taffy...poison salt water taffy.

It was an excellent opener, completely adhering to the tradition of interesting, odd or just different Eels openers.

Then the second opener came on, a waifish Irish singer/songwriter type from California.

She sang five or six songs backed only by her acoustic guitar.

She reminded me a bit of both St. Vincent and Regina Spektor.

She did a great job, very haunting.

And, finally, around nine or so, the lights dimmed and an instrumental rendition of "When You Wish Upon A Star" began.

E came out alone, dressed all in white, sporting his usual sunglasses and a stars and stripes bandana.

He played "Daises of the Galaxy" solo and then called for the Chet.

After one or two songs, he called out the rest of the band: a bassist, yet another guitarist and a drummer.

Four guitars, one drum set.

Eels 2010.

Overall, not my favorite Eels show. I love his quieter, more nuanced stuff a lot and, without a keyboard up there, some songs lost something. The loud songs were done just right though, killing several members of the audience.

There was a massive amount of the three new albums played, and, as I don't really love all of them, that was kind of a bummer, but they brought out some jewels.

"Dog Faced Boy" and "Souljacker Pt. 1" rocked like fuck as well as "Jungle Telegraph".

They also played "Mr. E's Beautiful Blues" set to the tune of "Twist & Shout", which worked very well.

"Fresh Blood", "Baby Loves Me" and a hard rock version of "I Like Birds" were also highlights.

As usual, there were a few covers, "She Said Yeah" by the Rolling Stones, "Summer In The City" by Lovin' Spoonful and "Summertime" by George Gershwin.

Like I said, not my favorite Eels show, but, whatever, it was a blast nonetheless.

Afterwards, Kathy and I returned home and we all watched Tropic Thunder.

Then Adrienne (upstairs neighbor and friend/co-worker of Christina, not my manager's assistant) came down with her cat, Ziggy so we could watch what followed.

It was cute.

Then, more sleeping.

We all woke up and bade my sister and the kitten safe travel back to the land of living free or dying.

Then Christina spent the afternoon around St. Mark's like we used to.

We enjoyed some excellent (but sadly, soy based) deliciousness at a really excellent Thai place, then we split a gluten AND dairy free hot fudge brownie sundae in the 6BC Garden, one of the most magical places in New York I've been in a while.

Then...I had a strange feeling.

I called Video Game NYC, a small video game shop right around the corner from where we were, and asked if they had Dead Rising 2.

They said they did.

So I bought it.

Three days before it comes out.

I played a bit last night after working more on the Secret Project, watching the first movie in the Red Riding trilogy and eating an amazing meal of butternut squash, tofu and curry made from scratch by Christina.

As a tasty little coda to this scrumptious lie cake, I received a call this afternoon at 12:15 or so informing me that Greencard wanted back in for revisions at one, thus doubling my fee.

Folks, if things are always going to be this good, I just might get a brain tumor.

And I'll name him Abraham, because he will have emancipated me from the horrible slavery of my job.

Get it?

Why I'm calling my tumor Abraham?

Yeah.

You probably do.

Sorry, your princess is in another castle.

Tough shit.

Fairy SPAM!!!

About to go to bed.
Just checked my e-mail and found the most magical piece of SPAM ever.
Check this out...

First off, even though it was sent to my e-mail address, my name in the senders address book is "Sherbondy Dostal", which is pretty awesome for starters.
Next, the subject is "earer to hi".
And the text is verbatim as follows:

D the girl, her face growing luminous through the gloom, "you
called me a witch, and now you shall see. I wave my hands, so--and you
are no more in Galloway. You are in the land of faery. I blow you a
kiss, so--and lo! you are no more William, sixth Earl of Douglas and
proximate Duke of Touraine, but you are even as True Thomas, the Beloved
of the Queen of the Fairies, and the

slave of her

spell!" "I am indeed well content
to be Thomas Rhymer," he answered,
submitting himself to the wooing
glamour of her eyes,

"so be
that you are the Lady of the milk-white hind!" "A courtier indeed," she
laughed; "you need not t 
 

And it ends there, with a "t".
Finally, the attachment was a jpeg called "decree".
I scanned it and found it was clean, then I open it to find a small screen cap of a website selling penis drugs.
Like I said, the most magical SPAM ever!
And with that, I bid you good night.

Cake, No Sodomy*

9.17.10

3:32 pm

Yes. Cake.

Yesterday, I took off from work to see Cake perform at Summerstage IN Rumsey Playfield. Up until Monday I didn't know the two were the same thing.

Thank you Central Park Recreations Committee, you scum.

Anyway, my sister and I showed up unnecessarily early (about 4:45 for the 8 o'clock show) and were STILL 5th and 6th in line after three people who were fast asleep on the ground when we got there and two guys sitting on a rock trying to look interesting.

Things were fine for a while, the power was being switched on and the instruments plugged in and then Cake started sound checking.

Then came the Thunder.

Then came the Lightning.

Then came the Flood.

For a solid ten minutes, the world kind of ended...all with Kathy and I huddled under umbrellas.

The sky was green/yellow/gray.

And wet.

Then it stopped.

Eventually, the music started again and Cake played about five songs (missing a horn or vocalist here or there) and we knew things were going to be okay.

Soon, a lot more people showed up including Lisa and her sorority sister, Lindsey, who, apparently, has been hearing stories about me for ten years.

I certainly hope I delivered, although without my army of dildos and whatnot, I don't know if that was possible.

All the more reason to have a few on me at all times.

More the fool I.

Lisa came equipped with four cup cakes in order to have cake...at Cake...get it?

Well, some guy announced that that was "clever", although his subtext was so clear he might as well have just screamed "I WANNA CUPPY CAKE!! ME ME ME!!!!" while tearing his face off with his teeth.

Pseudointellectual smarminess is no substitution for cup cakes.

Fucker.

Anyway, we were dead goddamn center on the railing for the whole show.

It was very much along the lines of their show last year at Terminal 5, except it wasn't raining inside Terminal 5.

A few tracks I didn't hear last time like Pentagram (a real treat as it's one of my favorites from their first ), Shadow Stabbing and a new new one called Away (which has a very Mexico feel to it) although I would have loved to hear Italian Leather Sofa and Short Skirt Long Jacket again.

They had the typical long-ass-sing-along to Jolene, Sheep Go To Heaven and Sick of You as before, plus the tree giveaway, all of which could have been replaced with an extra song or two, but, whatever, it's their show and it was fun.

Plus, fina-fucking-lly, they announced the new album title and, praise the Bulbous Melon of Goodness, a release date.

"Showroom of Compassion" will be released on January 11 or 18th, 2011.

Why it's taking them over four months to release an album which has been done for six weeks and anticipated for six years is something I'll never accept, especially in the age of Radiohead, Nine Inch Nails, Beck and a ton of other artists just self releasing their new works the moment they're mixed over the Internet.

Come on, releasing it on the Internet with save some trees.

You like trees, don't you?

You whiny ass hippy fucks...

Whatever.

The date has been set and it'll be Day One for me whatever the case.

I have to say though, getting twelve or thirteen new tracks (three of which you're pretty familiar with from their live show) after six years?

That's kind of harsh.

I understand that Cake aren't really the "double album" kind of guys, but throw us a bone here, please?

I was thinking of just asking them last night what took them so long, but that probably wouldn't have been received as the well-meaning, genuinely curious question it is.

Meh.

We'll see.

After the show, we staggered home and watched Clue.

That movie is still one of my favorites and, check this shit out, Tim Curry wasn't the actor originally considered for Wadsworth.

Now, I can imagine what you might or might not be thinking, who else could possible do as great of a job with role as Tim Curry?

Rocky Horror Picture Show?! Hellooo? Helllooooo?

How about Rowan Atkinson.

Or maybe John Cleese.

Yeah.

I suddenly wish I could dimensional hop and see those two versions of Clue.

Can...you...just...imagine...?

Augh.

Pain.

BUT, I take solace from the fact that, in some other quantum eventuality, another version of myself is, at this very moment, writing about how cool it would have been to have Tim Curry as Wadsworth.

*quantum sigh*

Changing the subject.

Reznor has been teasing us with the promise of hearing new music this week and, sure enough, this morning the Null Corporation, Reznor's new self run label, posted a new link on their website (http://www.nullco.com/) to the Social Network soundtrack pre-order page.

As usual, you get some free stuff.

Namely, five tracks from the score (which feature heavy titles like Pieces Form the Whole, Eventually We Find Our Way and The Gentle Hum of Anxiety).

You can also pre-order the soundtrack in its three physical forms: a CD for $8, a 5.1 surround sound Blu Ray disc for $20 and a double vinyl for $25.

With each pre-order you receive the five track sampler and the promise of the entire soundtrack delivered to your e-mail via a link at midnight on September 28th, four days before the movie drops.

AND from the 28th to the 30th, the whole thing will be available on Amazon as mp3's for $2.99.

19 tracks for $2.99.

Hey, Cake?

Fuck you.

I've been able to listen to those five tracks once or twice and they're good. A bit more involved that some of the Ghosts stuff, which feels a bit linear at times, and a bit more surprising as well.

Reznor seems to have followed up on his promise to "practice piano more" in his spare time.

But, how excited can I really get about a movie's score?

I'm excited for new Reznor music, but, no matter how compelling an instrumental piece of music is, I really have never found myself that into the genre.

Even now, I'll only listen to a handful of Ghosts tracks when I'm feeling...I don't know...atmospheric?

Whatever.

The music is good and, apparently, the movie is great.

Quite a few reviews have popped up for The Social Network and all of them speak well of it, most mentioning the soundtrack favorably as well, specifically, there's a rowing scene that keeps getting brought up.

So I guess Reznor, Ross and Fincher found a way to make all this dark-ass, moody music work with the story of Facebook.

Way to go guys.

I think that might bring me up to today.

Oh, I also picked up Space Invaders Infinity Gene from PSN yesterday.

Basically, it's Space Invaders fallen through a black hole and into the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey and everyone had done acid and cracked techno music to 11.

Mind.

Blowing.

One last thing, I downloaded a HUGE torrent of Warren Ellis graphic novel and comic stuff.

This man...is sick.

He also writes angry Brits better than anyone I've read.

He has his own Zombie Apocalypse title called BlackGas.

I've read the first mini-volume (three issues) and it's different from the typical zombie thing already. Hard to do these days.

I recommend it to any zombiephiles.

Also, his Emma Frost is the truest I've ever read, I can't imagine anyone voicing her better than him.

Going to Eels alone next Saturday.

Bummer.

Okay.

Fin.

*A little sodomy.

I Now Pronounce You Meh And Wife

9.7.10

3:52 pm

Went to a wedding this weekend, some old, old friend of Christina's.

Very expensive, very typical.

The guy...shucks, I don't remember his name.

Mike?

Rick?

*shrug*

Whatever, they're happy.

At least they look it.

One thing I will say though: I had an almost Dead Zone-esque flash when I shook the groom's hand.

He loves anal.

And he is going to DESTROY his new wife.

In a good way, you know, all a-okay in the eyes of God.

Whew.

Spent the night at Chris' brother's house. Good times.

Found out the third floor is haunted by a gay ghost.

A phantassm?

A lavender poltergeist?

A poop spook?

Anyway.

Had a spot of snack with her stepmother as well.

She's looking better.

Got home.

Watched Mission: Impossible:2, felt bad for Anthony Hopkins.

I think Mission: Impossible 3 is arriving this week.

Heard it was actually watchable.

Not that 2 wasn't.

John Woo just busted nuts all over it.

There's so much kicking...

And there are indeed slow motion birds.

I forget who directed the third one, but Philip Seymour Hoffman is in it.

And I think he has a bomb in his brain?

Or something?

Maybe he'll jerk off on camera and inform Ethan Hunt that he came.

I'm in.

Also started playing the Wolverine game (X-Men Origins: Wolverine). Pretty fun. You actually get to see the Wolverine they always talk about in the comics, but you never get to see because it's too brutal.

And this game is brutal.

Xmax.

Playing the game made me want to watch the movie.

Not a great movie.

Couple things...they just made up, badly.

Not all bad, but pretty bad.

The Blob really does nothing in it, although the actor seemed fun.

And it makes one excited for the Deadpool movie.

On the way to work today, I decided to listen to Mindless Self Indulgence's Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy.

Tight fucking album.

30 tracks in about 30 minutes.

Some might call it unlistenable, but, if you can withstand the onslaught, and just dive in, you'll find layers.

These guys are fun, energetic and angry.

Also the lead singer has an incredible vocal range.

Yargh.

Is that really all?

Parents coming up this weekend, Cake coming next weekend, then Eels will be dropping by, then Social Network comes out.

Such busy as to make one weep.

But happy tears.

Tears of chocolate milk.

Milky, chocolate tears.

Then there's the Halloween Party...oh boy...