9.30.2010

*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

9.27.2010

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.

9.19.2010

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.

9.17.2010

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.

9.07.2010

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...