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...

Bonch? Boonch? What?

8.31.10

3:45 pm

Fuck you, August.

I'll see you hell, you cockwhore.

Anyway.

I had forgotten about Ok Go until a day or so ago and I looked to see if they'd put anything out since their second album "Oh No".

Turns out they have!!!

It's called "Of The Blue Colour Of The Sky" and it's really a departure from what they've done thus far.

Some very interesting stuff and some stuff that is a little too interesting to be good, dig?

Like, maybe a bit too experimental for the guys that wrote "Get Over It", which might be the poppiest song evarLOL!!!11!.

Everything was distorted at one time or another: vocals, drums, guitars, bass, sometimes everything all at once which was just too much.

The only song I totally dug was called 'White Knuckles", but I'll give it another listen or two.

Probably.

Also happened to swing by the Social Network web site (http://www.500millionfriends.com/) to hear the first results from the Reznor/Ross collaboration. Some NIN fans/hackers discovered it's called "Hand Covers Bruise (no piano)" (leading one to believe there's a version out there...with piano). Feels a bit like Ghosts meets the Quake soundtrack. It's very dark and moody. Thing is, I'm concerned about how the hell they're going to make this music work with the film without making it seem overwrought.

We are just talking about Facebook here and "Hand Covers Bruise" seems a bit...I don't know...much?*

Whatever the case, I'll be there, Day One.

Another thing I'ma try to be Day One for is this new zombie game.

It's called Dead Rising 2.

Think one guy, trapped in a Las Vegas (although they're called it Fortune City) overrun by zombies. Anything you can put your hands on it a weapon.

Apparently there's a sense of humor to the game, but I'm not there for that.

I'm there for the fact that you're surrounded by literally thousands of zombies at once.

In fact, the PS3 version will be able to pack 7,000 individual zombies on the screen at once.

7000! That's almost 10,000!!

So yeah.

My sweetest dream is of a game the size of GTA IV with the graphics of Heavy Rain and the car/driving ability of Burnout Paradise in Manhattan during the Zombie Apocalypse.

You find lots of cars, obviously, but hardly any with gas in them. You find little bits of gas here and there and stockpile it so, when you find a car, you can fill it up and try it out, but only until you ran out of gas in a minute or so or made a wrong turn and found a street clogged with abandoned cars.

I think an MMO might be best, but that's far too much work for someone to do.

I'd need a team of hundreds.

Anyone have a team of hundreds?

Call me...

I want your hundreds.

Had an audition earlier today where they wanted a brain that sounded like Denis Leary.

I gave them what they wanted, but probably to no avail.

Bastards.

I have something tomorrow for a TV VO about...I don't know, some goddamn thing where they want me to be conversational, smart, confident, not announcery, friendly.

Yak.

Yak shit on yak balls.

Talking goat.

Drunken squirrel.

Joy of cooking.

Out.

*Unless there's a moment in the movie when someone's hand is covering a bruise and they play it then.

This Things I Believe *

8.26.10

3:44 pm

My milk starts to go bad in three days.

Last night I watched the movie Little Children.

It was very Happiness.

Like comedy so black it wasn't really comedy.

It wasn't as funny as Happiness and there were less so-awkward-you-die moments, but it shared several elements, including the actress that played Joy in Happiness. She was doing her usual fragile, damaged, birdlike thing. In fact, based on what she said in Little Children, this might have actually been the character from Happiness.

And, knowing that, the terrible thing that happens to her is made hilarious (in a Happiness sort of way...it's still pretty horrible no matter how you slice it).

The actor that played Rorschach in Watchmen plays a child molester (exposing yourself to kids, that's child molesting, right? There's not some other, more PC term?) and does a great job of it, not over the top at all. Just as in Happiness, the film doesn't seek to make the child molester look bad (something not all that hard to do) but to humanize him, not that he was falsely accused or anything, he did what he was accused of and does some stuff in this movie that is hella creepy.

An odd addition, maybe from the book, I'm not sure, was the voice of a narrator. It was sparsely used, but a bit distracting at times.

In the end, everything that needs to happen happens (sort of) and everyone learns a lesson, usually a painful one.

Jennifer Connelly looks a little like an alien in it and Kate Winslet is getting more and more naked.

Both are...off putting in their own special ways.

Before I watched Little Children, I tried to watch the latest entry in the Romero Dead Trilogy**, Survival of the Dead.

*sigh*

When Land of the Dead came out, Philip happened to be in New York so we went and saw it in the theaters. This was the first Romero "Dead" movie since Day of the Dead and we were jazzed.

Mr. Zombie was adding a fourth installment to his pivotal, genre-defining series.

And it blew dead goats.

A lot of the effects were digital, bad digital, a HUGE slap in the face to the practical magic of Tom Savini, the plot was vaguely interesting until you met the larger than life characters and found out that THE ZOMBIES WERE LEARNING AND REMEMBERING.

George...no they weren't.

They CAN'T.

That's the point, they are an unstoppable army of corpses, they aren't remembering shit!

They are here to consume you and your shitty retcon!

So that was a bummer.

The guy who started a movement, succumbing to the clichés plaguing that movement.

Years later (about ten after the Blair Witch Project shocked and terrified the nation), Mr. Romero thought it would be cool to meld two dead things (zombies and first person perspective filmmaking) into one smelly bag of decay.

And he did so with Diary of the Dead.

*double sigh*

I downloaded this one and got exactly what I paid for.

A bunch of idiot kids decided that "people need to see this!!!!!!!!!!" and grab a camcorder, as if fucking anyone in the whole zombie-riddled world wasn't seeing this...

A side note, the kind of sentiment behind this, that people "need to see" the Zombie Apocalypse, that someone might have missed it, is the same sentiment behind people showing footage of the fucking Twin Towers going down while chanting "never forget". Who, in the blue FUCK, is going to forget something like this?!

Anyway, while on their journeys, this intrepid bunch of kids gets pulled over by some folks wearing Army uniforms (mistake number one in the world of the Zombie Apocalypse). They board their RV and take all their shit, then disappear. The movie continues to slouch on until it finally falls dead, its brain destroyed.

Then.

2010.

(Hopefully) the final sigh...Survival of the Dead.

*triple sigh*

Downloaded this one as well (call it a funny feeling...).

This movie is allll about those asshole solders who took those kids for everything they had.

I got about thirty minutes in before realizing I'd rather be killed and eaten by zombies than watch the rest.

Imagine a bad movie with a random character.

Now imagine a worse movie all about that random character?

These are the kind of movies that should NOT be made.

George, you listening?

Funny thing is, I used to work for the producer of these last few films, Peter Grunwald, and I could, conceivably, call him (I still have his cell) and just ask him why he thought these were a good idea.

I could.

Would it be a horrible, perhaps career ending move?

Perhaps.

But would it be funny?

Not as much as I'd think.

And plus, this guy knows Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg, so I'm not jeopardizing that.

I'm one degree away from Shaun of the Dead, yo!

Can't fuck that up...

Anyway.

Don't watch any Romero movies with "dead" in the title if they were made after 1991.

Night of the Living Dead, the remake directed by Tom Savini, is excellent and is the last good zombie movie Romero is associated with, unless he had something to do with the Dawn of the Dead remake as well, which was also excellent.

Phil and I started writing a zombie movie while sitting in Doc Brown's on the upper east side one afternoon, but it devolved quickly when George Michael then Prince came on the jukebox and it became a satire seconds later.

One day, my friend...one day...

* Super obscure Simpsons reference = !!!POINTS!!!

**This one makes six.

A Review of Eels' "Tomorrow Morning"

8.25.10

7:16 pm

 

A few months ago, E announced that the most recent albums (Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire and End Times) were the first and second parts of a trilogy. The final piece, Tomorrow Morning, is the polar opposite of the personal apocalypse which was the subject matter of End Times. This one all about hope and love and happiness and yeah, we get it. With this list of song titles, how could we not? Originally, I had made some predictions based on Hombre Lobo and End Times and I am happy to say I was mostly wrong. Sort of.

 

In Gratitude For This Magnificent Day

A simple, light and sweet instrumental floats in to assure the listener (if you couldn't tell from the bright pink cover featuring a solitary tree exploding with purple and white flowers) that everything is going to be fine. Not the most complex or compelling tune ever written by E, but a very clear message is expressed perfectly: it's time to be happy.

 

I'm A Hummingbird

Although the title invokes one of the most joyful (it looks joyful anyway) creatures on the planet, the music is a continually shifting susurration of low strings and nothing more. E speaks of everything being worth it to have reached this day and then declares himself a hummingbird, "beautiful and free". Hey, at least it's a simile. The simplicity works to bring focus to E words and this serves as a fitting intro to the most upbeat Eels album...EVER.

 

The Morning

A very simple track featuring E accompanied by only an organ (featuring some rising and falling electronic bloops eventually) which asks over and over why one wouldn't want to make the most of their day. The point is pretty much there from the start and not really complicated by, you know, a lot of lyrics.

 

Baby Loves Me

Finally, something that sounds as happy as its lyrics. The verses are lists of people that dislike E, ranging from neighbors that don't like his flowers to travel agents that cancel his trip to nice girls that think he's a dick, but the chorus redeems all that. "Baby loves me!/And she's smarter than you/My baby loves me!/Unlikely but true", declares E, with just enough self-deprecation to make it sincere. The music is also joyful, assembled from a tiny guitar riff, a couple of notes on a keyboard and a bass, a simple one-two drum machine beat and a constant burbling of electronics in the background like an underground spring. Eventually, a nice little synth flutter comes in and adds quite a bit to the feeling of this one. 

 

Spectacular Girl

Aside from its awful video (featuring a hot, female assassin for some odd reason), this is a really great Eels song. A straight up "let me list why I love this woman" kind of thing, but it utilizes all the right notes and instruments; mellow keyboards, soothing synth strings and a fun, summery drum beat. The first official single from the album, an obvious choice after only one listen.

 

What I Have To Offer

E plus a guitar can go one of two ways: an instant classic, a heartfelt Eels song or a throwaway, I-feel-like-I've-heard-this-before snoozer.

Even with the strings in the background, this is, sadly, more the latter than the former. Another problem is the reoccurrence of the listing device from "Baby Loves Me". The song is, literally, a list of the things E has to offer. A list that rhymes, but a list nonetheless. Oh well, not every song can be perfect.

 

This Is Where It Gets Good

To be trite, I'm going to go ahead and agree with the title of the song. Probably my favorite track on the album, it's a bit spare on lyrics, but it more than makes up for it with an intricate and well constructed beat. Clocking in at over six minutes (the longest Eels song ever), the first three feature solid lyrics while the rest is more of a jam session within the confines of the music. The integration of the organ and the bass guitar with the drum beat is excellent and compelling as all get out. Elements are continually added, making the song more and more catchy. And, although I could have used more lyrics, the extended outro is interesting enough not to be skipped.

 

After The Earthquake

Another simple instrumental, it resembles something from Blinking Lights or maybe even Daises of the Galaxy, "A Daisy Through Concrete" perhaps. A nice addition and short enough to stay fresh. 

 

Oh So Lovely

The feeling I get from this track is that of riding a Merry-Go-Round in the summer. It's so celebratory that one could imagine a forward thinking church of some kind adopting this as a devotional. Maybe. And, while it sounds a bit familiar at times, it's a good familiar. There's also a wonderful keyboard that comes into towards the end that gives it even more of a happy, circusy feel. E informs us "he just might stay a while", so I guess he's not going to kill himself anytime soon. Fingers crossed. 

 

The Man

Yet another lister. In this it's different people (new age guy with a yoga mat, Mr. Henry (?), the long haired hippy with the tie-dyed shirt, little skinhead with the tattooed face etc.) telling E he's the man. This song goes so far into the ridiculously saccharine territory that it's enjoyable. Others might not agree. And while the music is fine enough, nothing special, there is a great, energetic drum roll at the end of every musical phrase that is never carried through and it's a massive missed opportunity for this song to really take off.  Bummer.  

 

Looking Up

Eels performs a gospel song. As celebratory as a Baptist church on Sunday, all tambourines and hand claps, but, personally, I just can't find much reason to listen to this song. Sort of form without content. Not a bad song, just not for me.

 

That's Not Her Way

Slow, kind of morose sounding at times, musically it harkens back to "Agony" from Shootenanny. There's some nice guitar eventually, but this song doesn't really stand out. It's yet another one about how his girl is better than all others. Good for him. 

 

I Like The Way Things Are Going

This penultimate track is one of the most straightforward songs on the album. A guitar, a bass and E, talking about...yes, how he likes the way things are going. This is a bit thin musically and lyrically. "I like your toothy smile/it never fails to beguile/whichever way the wind is blowing/I like the way this is going". Really? This is Eels' 9th album and think E might be running out of words to sing.

 

Mystery of Life

Ah, yes, here we are. The bass and drum beat immediately remind one of "Your Lucky Day In Hell" from Eels' first album. The vocals are whispered in falsetto like some of the best Eels songs, but things fall apart when the chorus of women singing "la la la's" comes in.  I understand the idea of juxtaposition, but this is a bit much. The chorus actually takes away from the greatness of the verses and spoils what would have been a great closer.

 

As with End Times, Tomorrow Morning makes a point, then spends about an hour nailing it into your eye. And even though this album is about looking forward with optimism to the future, the point is still sharp. Too sharp. Also as with End Times, these songs lack the subtly that make earlier Eels albums so good. On the last one, E was sad. Sad sad sad sad. On this one? Well, E is happy. Happy happy happy happy. Hearing an artist say they're happy doesn't make me happy, just as hearing an artist say they're sad doesn't make me sad. It's the sadness or happiness in their voice or in their music that makes it real. This album is all sweet and no bitter, and that just isn't E. I'm not saying I want him to just Sad Bastard out, he did that with End Times and I was just as disappointed. He needs that balance back, or go so extreme that you can't help but get drawn in.

This is a good album, better than End Times and at least equal to Hombre Lobo and in the end, I can't complain. One of my favorite bands has released three full length (if one can really call between forty and fifty minutes full length) albums in fourteen months, however, if I had been given all three albums at once and told I could either see these released, one at a time over those fourteen months or have one album called The End of Tomorrow: 13 Songs with the best songs culled from all three, I probably would have gone with the latter.

Whatever the case, I'm looking forward to seeing Eels in a few weeks, and then hearing what E comes out with next.

Wangle Dangle!!!

8.24.10

7:34 pm

I just knocked out about two months worth of Peter Fireheads.

And I feel like I've just eaten a Nutri-Grain bar.

Several of them address the coming seasonal shift.

The coming, welcomed seasonal shift.

Couple things.

First, today the new eels came out, but through some Everettian, timey wimey thing, I received my CD last Thursday and have had a few days with it.

I'll talk about that later.

Next, after watching...some movie with Chris last week, I forget which, I was reminded of the Michael Cera movie, Youth In Revolt and added it to our Netflix.

We watched that last night and it was pretty good.

Chock full of stars like Steve Buscemi, Ray Liotta, the mother from that thing, Zach Galifianakis, the guy in a bunch of Apatow movies who looks like the lovechild of Keanu Reeves and Anthony Kiedis, Fred Willard and a few others.

The problem I had with it is one of the problems I had with Juno: people the age of the characters in those movies (sixteen) are not that clever.

Especially not in America.

Ever.

They certainly think they are, but these kids weren't coming off clever to themselves and really sounding/acting like awkward lumps of unchecked hormones, they were clever.

I mean, sixteen year olds don't metacogitate and crack wise about their hormones, they try to put their penis in things.

Awkward? Oh my yes.

Michael "Reinventing The Wheel Of Awkward As A Stammering Square With Pimples" Cera is just as awkward as any sixteen year old boy with a thing for a girl could hope (or rather hope not) to be, and I believed it xmax, but clever? No. Sorry.

11th grade isn't that intellectual for anyone.

In the movie, Cera's character (Nick) creates an evil persona (which only he can see but who can pull a Tyler Durden and talk to and interact with other people and things) who does bad things in order to get closer to the girl he loves.

His alter ego, Francois, wears white pants and a hairline mustache, smokes and has bright blue eyes, not inhumanly so, just bright and blue.

With these contacts in, I am now fully convinced that Cera is somehow related to Beck.

Someone fetch me a genealogist.

Now.

I want to climb their family tree and bring down some coconuts.

Some coconuts with vacant, otherworldly stares and matching DNA.

Cear's Francois was totally different than anything I've seen him in.

As in: not awkward.

I'd love to see more like this from him, although I don't know why'd he do it as he has the Awkward thing locked down.

Aside from Youth In Revolt and thanks to the huge amount of shit on the Instant Netflix list, I have also been watching Jackass and Jackass-related stuff.

A lot of it.

That idiotic brainlessness still jerks tears from my eyes just like the first time I saw it.

Steve-O ruining his body for my entertainment?

Love it.

I won't go on much about it but, two words that will utterly unite anyone who was ever of fan of this odd phenomena or utterly deter them if they were not:

The Vomlet.

'Nuff said.

On the other end of the entertainment spectrum, I happened to turn on my radio around 9 p.m. on Sunday and I heard a simple and wonderful piano piece on WNYC.

Despite Christina's research abilities (four dots in a White Wolf campaign), she was unable to determine what it was.

So I called Listener Services and left a message, telling them what I had heard and when and leaving my name and number.

At about ten this morning, my phone rings showing "WNYC" as the caller.

I check the message and, bam, some nice lady named Loraine tells me the artist and album it was from.

Ten minutes later, thanks to stealing, I had it.

The artist is called Gonzales and the album is called "Solo Piano".

The whole thing isn't as good as what I heard, but everything on it lends a patina of class and nobility to whatever you're looking at while you're listen to it.

The subway suddenly reminds one of the romance and mystery of the worlds' railroads rather then a subterranean mobile toilet, the feces and buracho strewn trek from my stop to my job becomes a hotbed of underground poets and musicians, laboring away at their typewriters or in their makeshift home studios, creating the next amazing piece for the world to experience and celebrate, the dead-eyed retards slogging through their shifts at my job are now brave, hard-working people, struggling to raise their children up from the muck, to fulfill their potential.

Ah, the transcendent beauty and transformative magic of music...

Sliding back to the other end of the spectrum, I have watched the first and second seasons of It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia.

Goodness gracious what an offensive show!

Pleasantly so though!

Haven't laughed out loud at a whole lot of it, but a few times my mirth has burst forth.

Danny DiVito is so...fucking...short...

Sometimes I can't handle it.

One last thing: there's this angry African dude named George who works here in housekeeping.

It's not as glamorous as you'd think...

He cleans the bathrooms every night and, when he does, it sounds as if he's actually wrestling the entire room, fighting the piss and shit and filth.

It's horribly disconcerting when one wants to make a wee.

All right.

Dismissed.