End of the Month Music Bitchfest - June

6.29.11

3:13 pm

 

I was thinking about writing this yesterday, but held out in case someone was waiting until the 29th to drop some crazy news.

Fruitless.

Utterly, utterly fruitless.

 

Nine Inch Nails

Nothing.

That isn't a play on Trent Reznor's now-defunct record label.

There's absolutely no news.

That Girl With The Dragon Tattoo trailer is out there and making folks wet, but, other than that, the NIN/HTDA front has been silent.

I blame his infant.

 

They Might Be Giants

A mere three weeks away from the advent of TMBG's latest album, "Join Us".

The anticipation mounts.

In a recent interview, Linnell (the quiet guy) said: "Now that it’s done, we’ve had our harshest critics weigh in — our closest friends, including our wives – and they are unstinting in their truth."

He didn't actually go on to say what that truth was, but, that's really not for us to know, is it?

Fans will find out, and weigh in ourselves, in less than a month.

AND, if you happen to pick up the digital version of the new album, you will find my name, along with other members of the TMBG Instant Fan Club, hidden in the artwork.

I'll be sure to locate and crow about it next time...

And in exactly a month, I will be at the Williamsburg Waterfront with hundreds of sweaty hipsters, watching TMBG play their new material (as well as a career-spanning selection of old material) for the first time ever.

It will be hot and bothersome, but only until the sun goes down, when it will become slightly less hot and bothersome.

Fingers still crossed for this one, but, as I always say...let go and let God sort them out.

They've also announced more tour dates...nothing in NYC at the moment, so...yeah.

And the day after I see TMBG in Williamsburg...

 

Eels

...I will be seeing Eels in Williamsburg at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, or whatever it's called.

I should move to Williamsburg. right????!!!!

Sorry, don't think I could maintain that level of irony.

Not without acquiring some sort of spastic colon disorder or something.

But, SCD notwithstanding, I checked out a teeny tiny slice of video from this Eels tour and I am ECSTATIC about the band.

It looks to be the same set up from last year (four guitars, one drummer, pure rock)...but with a full horn section.

Fucking yes.

And, of the three or four songs I saw on their set list, it appears to be Souljacker heavy show.

Which is awesome.

Over the weekend, Eels played Glastonbury and kicked some serious ass.

I'm glad of that.

I'd like for more people to dig Eels.

More Scottish people anyway.

 

Cake

Touring.

Snarking.

Whatever.

There was talk a while ago about the band working on a sort of book to go along with their song "Bound Away", but I haven't heard anything about that lately.

It isn't new music though, so no real interest here.

They should have a new music video coming along any day now, most likely for "Moustache Man".

*shrug*

 

Beck

Beck...is beginning to get on my nerves...

After a solid month or so of misconstrued* silence, his site suddenly posts two updates in about as many days...neither of which involve new Beck music.

The first, that he is producing yet another album that isn't his, namely, the new Stephen Malkmus (from...Pavement, I think?) and The Jinks.

I could be less interested in this...but I'm not certain as to how.

And second, that he is the guest editor of this quarter's Zoetrope: All Story, a literary magazine that oh who gives a fuck.

Beck.

Stop producing other people's shit.

Produce some fucking music.

Here's why I'm getting bitchy: the longer an artist takes to produce new music, the better this new music has to be.

As in: if it's taken this long than he/she must have put a lot of time/effort into it, so my expectations are raised.

It's just math.

If the album is amazing, the best thing they've ever done, great, everything is fine, but...if this album doesn't live up to my unreasonably high standards, well, then I start to get antsy.

When's the next new album, the better new album coming out?

And so on.

It's been about three years since Beck put out Modern Guilt, a solid album, but shorter and less layered than Guero and The Information and I'm beginning to get slightly uncomfortable.

I don't doubt that whatever Beck does next is gong to be pure Beck and interesting/fun/etc.; if you'll recall, of my top five I'm most looking forward to Beck's new material because of his inherent ability to consistently make good music, but, well, I'm just getting a little impatient.

A new Record Club isn't going to cut it, and neither is some other artist being produced by Beck with him lending vocals and guitar here and there.

Sack up, Hansen.

It's time to make us dance.

 

Still nothing on the Garbage/Tweaker/Tori Amos/St. Vincent fronts.

But.

Marilyn Manson has debuted a brand new design for his official site and with it, a brand new, rambling, pseudo-intellectual journal entry entitled "Rapeture", naturally.

Here's a taste:

"Christianity
Manufactures
Yesterdays
Killers

 Brave Now World. Don’t ever believe what you read, especially if you are illiterate.  Art will be the burning churches, burning beds, burning witches, burning bridges, burning Cadillacs, burning forests, burning flags, and the burning human remains that are the evidence of the burned books, filled with stories of our razor and rope burns.

But we will not be the ashes. We will not be cremated, we will cauterize our wounds.  We never wanted our wings anyway.

We are more than the flightless creatures, that are always expected to rise from the bonfire. These are barbecues for trembling, idiot arsons who pretend to be America’s Vatican in whatever ‘ism’ is easiest to swallow.  After the horrid blowing jobs, they expect us to fight against each other to obtain the security of willing slaves.

 We do not walk among them.  I am among no one."

 

AND, to go along with his pointless, ineffective babbling, he's also posted "an undisclosed clip from an untitled song"...which, for reasons which will become apparent momentarily, will probably be called "I Am Among No One".

It is thoroughly uninteresting and awful, consisting of effects-heavy black and white footage of Manson zooming in and out of focus while declaring in his toneless, tuneless croak of a voice "I am among no one!" over and over.

It's the longest minute of your life and bodes horribly for any new Manson material that may (or may not, he has been hitting the Absinthe hard these past few...years) be coming.

I know what you're thinking: "How can you judge an entire album based on less than a minute of what might just be a demo of one song?! You fuck!"

Because it's a Marilyn Manson album, folks, because it's a Marilyn Manson album.

Prove me wrong, Mister Superstar...please.

Hey, maybe Beck could produce your new album, get some dusty-ass acoustic guitars and kettle drums on there.

Or maybe you could eat some humble pie and get Reznor to slice you off some talent.

Aside from the "music", Manson just released his first "museum book", a term I've never heard before and he might have made up.

It's called Genealogies of Pain and features pictures of his paintings...the same pictures people have been able to see, for free and in full, high resolution glory for years.

Well, they're now in a book.

Alongside, for some strange reason, screen captures from David Lynch's short films.

He was hawking his wares on this weird ass internet talk show called Fleischer's Universe a few nights ago.

It's rife with teenage sex humor and weird accents and people just off camera yelling things the viewer can't quite make out at both the host and Manson.

It also has a lot of Manson looking confused.

It's worth a view, simply because it's SO disconnecting and alienating for the viewer.

Click for the Mindfreak.

 

I've given SONOIO's Red a few more listens and I remain, for the most part, unimpressed.

Cortini's still doing some interesting things with sound though, so I'm not ready to totally write him off.

Feel free to check his stuff out at www.sonoio.org where you can get the first four tracks of both Blue and Red for free.

That's eight tracks of something you probably won't like...FOR FREE.

Bargain Hunter...your Quest is at an end.

 

Oh, I forgot to mention this last month, the first volume of the Portal 2 soundtrack is up for free download on the Portal 2 web site.

There's some amazing ambient, electronic sound work and should be checked out.

"Hard Sunshine" and "Triple Laser Phase" stand out.

All right, that's all.

If nothing else, July's Bitchfest will include some in-depth TMBG whinery**, I'm sure.

And I knows you likes the Bitchin'...

 

 **UPDATE**

A quick update regarding the new Marilyn Manson opus.

Manson has apparently finished the new album. It has a title and everything, and he's even played it for a few people.

His dad liked it.

It will be out "before the end of the year".

He says that he'll announce the title in a day or so.

We'll see if he remembers and if it isn't laughably offensive.

My money is on "I Am The Christfuckershitmouthniggergovernmentmoneymoneymoneyhate".

Why do I put myself through this...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* Misconstrued by me, yes, but seriously, fuck off.

** Where all the sour grapes go...get it?

Two Decisions, One Realization and Some Bullshit

6.28.11

3:13 pm

 

I've had a realization: Kevin James is probably the best comparison for white people to what Tyler Perry is for black people.

Both as far as his mind-boggling popularity with the masses and his uncanny ability to irritate more than an oozing skin rash on one's coronal ridge that extends to the perineum and all the way up to the ass neck.

Does anyone have any government connections?

Like say...connections that would be interested in killing James, Perry and Larry the Cable Guy and making it look like some sick, S&M murder-suicide?

Tweet me.

On the DL.

Oh, quick aside, the new Twitter is a bag of dicks.

 

Also, I've made a decision: when forced to interact with the few individuals here that I loathe, I am going to speak with a slight but noticeable speech impediment

More precisely, I am going to talk in what I like to call my Big Dumb Voice.

Ask me for a demonstration some time, you'll be so happy you did.

This is solely for my own benefit, but if these people end up hating it, well, bonus.

What are they going to do, report me for "talking funny"?

I'd love to be called into some office for that.

It would start quite an interesting dialogue...which would get me super fired, super fast.

 

I've also decided to take part in the recently announced contest to create an official music video for They Might Be Giant's latest single "Can't Keep Johnny Down".

While I might not love the song, the grand prize, aside from creating the official video for TMBG, is $1,000 and a pizza from the pizzeria of my choice.

John Hodgeman is the judge and I think I know what he likes.

Hint: it's not Macs.

 

 

In other creative news, last night I recorded chapter thirteen of forty one of The Grind Show.

Having some trouble with Javi at times, but hopefully it will work out.

 

And: I had a chance to plug in my new Warlock to my MBox and it sounds fucking awesome.

I am thinking about using it to make a more action packed theme for The Grind Show.

We'll see.

And, in case you were wondering, having an electric guitar does NOT mean I can suddenly play or even sound like I can play.

In fact, my first demo for that new theme was created by me using the guitar more as a keyboard than a guitar.

I also had a lot of effects on Pro Tools.

 

Anyway.

When not creating, I have been destroying.

Destroying Africans.

But don't worry, they're Infected Africans.

Hm.

None of that sounds good.

Let's take this again.

I have been playing Resident Evil 5, which features several moments which, if taken out of context, would look really bad to any random member of Amnesty International.

Really excellent, really frightening, sometimes frustrating game.

 

I've also gone back to the Action Teat that is 24.

Maybe a third of the way through season seven, the penultimate season.

Janeane Garafalo is a bit too Janeane Garafalo for me to forget that she is, in fact, Janeane Garafalo.

Dig?

I call it Bruce Wills Syndrome.

And people are now officially coming back from the dead.

And Jack has no government agency backing him this time around.

Stakes feel a little lower after all the crazy shit from the last few seasons, but, like I said, I'm only a third or the way though, things could, literally, go nuclear at, literally, any second.

Literally.

I'm getting concerned about what I'm going to do after season eight...how am I going to get my action fix?

I might turn to drugs...Action Drugs.

 

Speaking of Action Drugs.

Idiots, Methadone and Free Head

So, my job has its Pros and its Cons.
The Cons: Working with idiots.



The Pros: Free head.



Both of these were taken at my workplace; a health care institution, affiliated with the Catholic Church, that, just Monday, received a deficiency-free report from the Department of Health.
Oh, AND we were in the paper last week or so.
The Attorney General got involved when a nurse here gave an old woman methadone...by accident.
The resident was cogent and said, "This is not my medication" but she forced her to take it anyway.
When, minutes later, she realized her mistake and the patient started complaining of chest pains, the nurse, let's call her Florence Nightingale, went back in, stuck her fingers down the patient's throat to induce vomiting, then changed the medication log in order to erase her mistake.
You can read about it here
But I digress.
Free head, people.
FREE.

Hip Flop

6.21.11

 

7:06 pm

 

I finished The Girl Who Played With Fire last night.

It ends on a cliffhanger!!!

And the third and final book picks up right where the second left off!!!!!

I really am a sucker for stuff like that...

Anyway.

I thoroughly enjoy the second book, but I still plan on taking a bit of time before I dive into the third.

Anticipation and all that.

On the whole, I found Fire to be more enthralling than Dragon Tattoo, as you already knew the characters and there was a lot less information about Sweden as a country and financial entity.

There was a metric shit ton of coffee consumed though.

I have a strange feeling that the writer is a fan of They Might Be Giants.

Or maybe just coffee.

But seriously, the only thing people drank in the first two books was coffee and the only thing they ate, no matter what time of day, was sandwiches.

There are a few exceptions; Billy's Pan Pizza, ham pie, bacon pie, fried sausage and an occasional apple.

I'm not really sure why these things caught my eye...maybe because I don't drink coffee often?

 

Might pick up A Clash of Kings again, but...no, I won't.

 

In other news, Phil is on his way to do some desert research for the next Grind Show book.

The working title: Cock Slap Sandwich.

Quite frankly, I think it's ridiculous.

There should be a hyphen in there.

 

Just last night I picked up the new SONOIO release, RED.

Not sure why Alessandro Cortini is so fond of caps, but, whatever, he's Italian.

I enjoyed his first volume, BLUE, better.

This one seems...I don't know...forgettable.

BLUE only had a few good tracks on it, but he's making some interesting stuff, so I'll keep buying it.

And I have been buying it, not just downloading it.

He's not signed to any label and he's ex-NIN, so that carries some weight with me.

Although the only ex-NIN thing I've actually really enjoyed has been Tweaker.

And Manson has him now.

Hopefully, he won't have been able to leach all of Chris Vrenna's talent.

 

Recorded chapter eight of The Grind Show last night.

1/5 of the way finished.

I'm going to try to record a chapter a night until the thing is done.

As long as my voice is able and I don't have an audition too early the next day, this should be done in a month or so.

I think it's going well, but I completely understand why editors and people along those lines exist.

I think I may have stumbled upon something...

6.20.11

 

3:55 pm

 

Specifically something in regards to the recent decline in the quality of the music of They Might Be Giants.

 

In a recent interview, Flansburgh described the verses from their new song, "Never Knew Love", as " these raging rock moments and very dense with words and very dense with ideas. It's a lot of crazy, compressed thought in the verses."

Two things: first, if someone gave me a list of every adjective in the world and told me to pick the one that best describes the verses in "Never Knew Love", the LAST word on my list would be "chewy". The second to last word would be "raging".

Using a heavy guitar pick on your guitar does not make a "raging rock moment".

Live drums playing a 4/4 beat does not make a "raging rock moment".

Crooning in falsetto does not make a "raging rock moment".

Second thing: these are the words to the first verse of "Never Knew Love":

 

"Cartography/ Is not my métier/ And the mountainsides of daydreams/ Too steep for me today/ Lovers lost before us/ And most did not return/ The few so hale and hearty/ Now broken down and burned"

 

These are the words to the second, and final, verse of "Never Knew Love":

 

"Biography/ Is all they understand/ No semaphore or secrets/ Or just good old pretend/ And now they all are sleeping/ But this keeps us awake/ These words, they need safekeeping/ A promise not to break"

 

Now, I'll concede that there are words and ideas here, but I'll fight you if you argue that the verse is dense with them.

And crazy and compressed thoughts?

Que?

Anyway, the thing I've stumbled onto: They Might Be Giants seem to think they are still making great music filled with "raging rock moments", "crazy, compressed thoughts" and "dense with words and ideas".

Just because a song has the words "secrets", "métier", "semaphore" and "daydreams" in its lyrics, it doesn't make it interesting.

And I believe that TMBG has forgotten that basic fact.

It's along the lines of the song "Experimental Film" from The Spine.

It's about the idea of an experimental film, not an actual experimental film.

Okay, let me put it like this...if I'm hungry, I don't want to see a picture of a delicious meal, I want to eat the delicious meal.

They Might Be Giants, I feel, has been showing us a picture of a delicious meal for almost a decade.

There have been notable exceptions, some songs here and there and the majority of The Else, but, for the most part, they're selling us the shadow of their true selves, their old selves.

Or young selves, I suppose.

Just take a listen to virtually anything from their first four albums and you'll see what I mean.

I hate to be among Those Fans, the "their earlier stuff was better" fans, but...well...their earlier stuff was better.

Rather than puzzling listeners and making us feel like they were the only two people who truly knew what the fuck they were talking about, they're crafting things to be willfully incomprehensible.

"Hey Linnell, does this assembly of words sound random enough for you?"

That kind of thing.

Oh well.

Preaching to the choir, cursing the darkness etc.

 

On another, slightly more devastating note: I just received an e-mail from the head of the facility...apparently, my place of work has just received a deficiency-free report from the Department of Health's recent survey.

Folks, I've said it before and I will continue to say it until it happens: we are gonna fuckin' DIE.

((((((((((((((((((((((((

With further regards to my shitty, shitty hospital receiving a blemish-free review, and the celebratory attitude that's been floating around since the e-mail went out, I'd like to paraphrase Chris Rock, if I may...

"You know the worst thing about (employees at this hospital)? (Employees at this hospital) always want credit for some shit they supposed to do. An.(employee at this hospital) will brag about some shit an (employee at) normal (hospital) just does. An (employees at this hospital) will say some shit like, "(I didn't neglect a resident today." You're supposed to, you dumb motherfucker! What kind of ignorant shit is that? "(I didn't misplace a resident's earthly remains)" What do you want, a cookie?! You're not supposed to (misplace a resident's earthly remains), you low-expectation-having motherfucker!"

Yes.
Thank you, Chris.
All these dumb motherfuckers are going to want cookies now.
And they'll keep wanting cookies the next time they fuck up royally.
Why?
"Because remember that time we didn't fuck up royally?"
A sad state if affairs, my friends...a sad, motherfucking state of affairs.

With The Quickness

6.15.11

 

8:33 pm

 

Before I forget:

Yesterday, I happened to walk up the huge, 51st street E subway stop escalator behind the girl with the bounciest ponytail I have ever seen.

With each step, it made the full half circle from 3 o'clock to 9 o'clock, 3 o'clock to 9 o'clock, etc.

She was having the Good Hair Day that we all yearn for and never seem to get.

 

Second, I don't think I've mentioned it before, but I cannot fucking stand these people that constantly drum their knuckles against the doors of the subway. You know, you're just pulling into the station but the doors won't open for another ten seconds or so and they start punching the window like they think they're caged tigers or something, just waiting to burst forth into the jungle and find their dinner.

"Just WATCH ME! As soon as I'm freed from this cage just WATCH ME! KING OF THE JUNGLE!! WATCH ME!!!!!!!!!!!"

You're not impressing anyone; no one as important as you are trying to make people think you are would be taking public transportation, you'd be flying in your diamond Lear jet.

You fucking wang.

 

And finally, just Monday, I discovered the N.A.S.A. project.

No, not the space one, the one with 75% of the Wu Tang Clan, Chuck D, David Byrne, M.I.A., Krs One, Kanye West, Lykke Li, Karen O., a ton of DJ's and others.

It stands for "North America South America" and seems to represent a coming together of North American and South American artists, but, aside from a few tracks, there's a lot more North than South on the album.

Some interesting stuff, occasionally reminiscent of Gorillaz actually (specifically one track featuring Gorillaz collaborator, Del the Funkee Homosapien called 'Soul Samba'), but nothing too crazy.

Well, except for David Byrne teaming up with Chuck D.

That is pretty crazy.

The whole thing might remind those who remember it of the Judgment Night soundtrack, simply because it teams up groups some might find incongruous with varying results.

 

I believe that's all.

Still immersed in The Girl...Fire and still enjoying it more that The Girl...Dragon.

After the sixth season of 24, my heart just couldn't take the unrelenting, pulse-pounding action, so I've decided to take some well-deserved time off and watch the rest of The IT Crowd.

The lead actress is sort of a combination of Shirley Manson and a woodchuck and can be funny and cute in the same breath.

Very fun stuff.

High recommend.

 

All right.

Done.

 

Paging Edward Excellent

6.13.11

3:54 pm

I've just finished reading a huge interview with John Linnell regarding, for the most part, the presence of computers in his life.

At one point the seemingly inevitable question of how computers have affected the distribution of music came up and Linnell mentioned that he feels less people are listening to albums, preferring to buy individual songs from iTunes and other such digital marketplaces. He talked about how more people would prefer to have a playlist of songs rather than a related collection they would sit and listen to.

And I'll agree.

You know why?

Because bands, chiefly because of this recent development of the ADHD way of listening to music, have stopped putting effort into the whole album.

They think, "Well, there's three singles...it doesn't matter what else we put on here" and thus another musical turd is born.

I hate the word 'turd', by the way. 

As I was saying, I don't think this is the band's fault, it's our fault as consumers with the attention spans of a hummingbirds.

I didn't grow up with LP's, so I never had that whole "listening to a record is a ritual" thing, but I did have cassettes and, more often than not, I would listen all the way through. Because, even if one particular song on the tape wasn't my favorite song, it was still by this band I was listening to and I like them enough not listen to the rest of the album, so why would I skip this one? And plus, a song is, what, four minutes? What's the big deal?

Granted, I have lost that respect of a lot of music.

I have just as many playlists on my iPod as the next person, but I will often still slap on the first track of an album and let it play, because that's how these artists intended it to be.

How could I call myself a fan of a band if I only like three songs per album?

The issue is, as I said before, that these bands I like seem to think that no one is listening to their albums as albums anymore and have started putting less effort into the music as they used to.

And then fans only listen to three or four tracks per album.

And then bands make albums with three or four good tracks.

It's a vicious cycle and it fucking blows.

And it's never going to stop until either: a. fans start taking time to listen to full albums as full albums or b. bands start making albums that are so enthralling that people have no choice but to listen to them in their entirety.

Now, people are stupid and fickle and hummingbirds etc. as I said before, but these bands (technically) are artists.

So, sadly, I'm going to have to put them blame on them.

How do you get people to listen to more than three or four tracks off your new 13 track album?

MAKE BETTER SONGS.

BETTER SONGS THAT FORM A BETTER ALBUM.

This feels obvious...is this too obvious?

I mean, has anyone called the VP of Music and told him, "hey, fucko, tell them to make better music and people will buy more music"?

Am I really out on a limb here?

Whatever the case, there are at least five bands that I listen to whose albums I will gladly listen to as wholes.

I might pick my favorites and put them on a playlist, but that doesn't mean I'm going to discard the rest of them.

It's disrespectful.

Now THAT sounds weird coming out of my fingers...

Hm.

I might be rambling, pointing out the obvious, but, seriously, things aren't going to get better.

 

Switching things up: I am almost done with The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

I decided, now that I'm near the end, to watch the trailer for the Fincher remake and see if I could match scenes with scenes.

I can.

Then, I watched the trailer from the original Dragon Tattoo movie to see just how necessary this remake is.

Seems that the answer is: not very.

I can clearly see some guy in a suit in somewhere in Hollywood (perhaps the VP of Showbiz?) meeting with David FIncher and laying it on the line for him:

Okay.

Some people will never see a movie, not matter how great, as long as it has subtitles.

So.

We like money and are running a tad short on ideas at the moment, so we'd like to replace the all Swedish cast and crew and script of the original The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo movie with James Bond, the cute, smart chick from The Social Network, that German doctor from Thor and the Avengers movie, have the director of Fight Club shoot it and get hot, new Oscar Meat©® Trent Reznor to do the score.

What do you think?

And I suppose that David Fincher said yes.

Anyway.

I saw The Hangover 2 this weekend with Jeannie, mostly to try and catch the Dragon Tattoo trailer, you know, the one specifically engineering for theatrical presentation, but it wasn't there.

Movie wasn't bad though, so, whatever.

Have no idea how they are going to top themselves for the third Hangover movie...quite frankly, I'm a little frightened.

All right.

Enough talk.

9:22 pm

Just finished The Girl etc. etc. etc.

Planning on watching the original film in a few days.

I think I may jump into the second in the series as soon as I've finished typing this.

I hope to Christ that there is less research and coffee drinking in the second and third books.

One thing I will say, I am greatly looking forward to a Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross score for this movie more so than I was for a movie about the creation of Facebook.

For as good as that score was...SO incongruous.

In fact, I'm hoping some Nine Inch Nails fan with more initiative than I sets certain scenes from Fincher's Dragon Tattoo with some of the Social Network score, as I've always felt that stuff on that would have been perfect for a rape/murder type movie.

Dark Side Of The Network?

Social Side of the Moon Tattoo?

Certain scenes in particular have such potential for perfect pairing with Reznor and Ross' stuff...

Anyhoodle.

I was thinking about picking Song of Fire and Unfinished Manuscripts back up, but...I'm not going to.

Eat it, G.R.R.M.

EAT.

IT.

10:46 pm

 

Only three chapters into The Girl Who Played With Fire and I'm hanging on every word.

I do so enjoy the second book in a series that doesn't take twelve chapters to catch you up on what you missed.

As long as this book revolves around these events and has nothing at all to do with Swedish economics, government, agriculture, mining, binary thought engines or anything else...I'm set.

I even enjoy the stuff about Salander and math.

I've always been a numbers kind of person and her new obsession is wonderful and fascinating to me.

Man, I hope these first few chapters are good indicators...

Jumpy Stomp

6.8.11

5:01 pm

 

First things first: after being out in the sun for about thirty minutes, most of my body is bright red.

"Paul", one may ask, "knowing you, why the fuck would you ever choose to be out in this weather?"

Well, yes.

Fuck you.

I was just helping a brother out.

Alan needed a huge madman to destroy a box in front of him and Jess Howell for Bob Greenberger's roast next month.

And I, being that helpful, box-destroying type, of course, agreed.

We were also running hella behind on the shoot and so I had no time to get home to grab my stuff for work, so I've been here for the past two hours or so with nothing but my thoughts...and my sunburn.

I'm going to streak home on my break, stand in a cold shower until my genitals disappear and then get my stuff for the final four hours of today's sadness.

"What stuff"?, did I hear you murmur?

No?

Well then...I began to find the second book of the Fire and Ice series a bit...annoying and decided to check out Stieg Larsson's Millennium trilogy.

As I said before, I'm learning a lot more about Swedish economics than I ever would have thought from such a lauded book.

How the fuck can out fasterfasterfaster culture have accepted such a slow-starting book?!

It's astounding!

On one hand, it makes me think people are getting smarter, on the other hand, this book isn't nearly as fun as I thought it would be.

Larsson certainly understands the definition of "juxtaposition" though...one paragraph has one main character reading quietly through a binder of decades old police reports while, in the next paragraph, the other main character is being brutally sexually assaulted.

I'm almost halfway through and beginning to get into it, but the pace, at least of the sections following the financial journalist are dryer than the sheaves of papers he's spent most of his time sorting through.

ZING!!!

Take THAT, Mikale Blomvkist!!!

I'm curious as hell how Fincher is going to make this an interesting film.

Then again, I had that feeling before The Social Network and...well, he didn't really make an interesting film, per se, more like he made it...engrossing.

But, seriously, the first quarter of the book is like one big library scene.

At one point, the financial journalist is being set up for a long story and he actually says, "look, get to the point".

I pumped my fist in utter unanimity and prepared for the chase to be cut to...but then the person telling the story says, "you must be patient" and the first responds with, "Okay."

Christ...

Phil liked it very much because he said he found it grounded the book.

Look, grounding is one thing, but watching the ground as rain dries on it?

I'm especially rankled by the fact that I put down A Clash of Kings because it was dragging, not knowing I was in for a history of Swedish industrialists.

AND NOT EVEN REAL SWEDISH INDUSTRIALISTS!

FAKE SWEDISH INDUSTRIALISTS!

I CAN'T EVEN TALK ABOUT THESE PEOPLE THE NEXT TIME I'M INVITED TO A RECEPTION AT THE SWEDISH CONSULATE!!!

But, like I said, the book is growing on me.

Hopefully it will pick up.

And hopefully Fincher will find some way to reconcile his awesome, tense, insane directing style with this tinder-dry story without doing anything ridiculous.

And, again, like I said, I'm only about halfway through this thing.

Everything could explode on the next page for all I know.

I'll weigh back in when I've finished it.

 

Meanwhile, I've decided to record no more than two chapters at a go with The Grind Show, for the sake of vocal integrity.

Chapters one through three are all edited and ready to rock, while four and five exist in their rawest, unedited forms, waiting to be glossed.

Not sure when that will happen, as all I want to do in this horrible fucking weather is die, scream at the sun and die again.

I'll do my best though...for science.

 

Time to run home.

 

I. AM. JAMES. BOND.

6.3.11

7:34 pm

 

Okay, I am looking for straight-up praise here, so bring it on:

The fourth floor of one of the buildings called down to security to tell them an elevator wasn't working.

The security fool who fielded the request for help was on a personal call and, after telling the floor she'll be right along and hanging up with them, proceeded to go right back into her conversation, ignoring the elevator.

This person...is one of those special people who include everyone in a 400 foot radius into her phone conversations.

Whether you like it or fucking not.

So.

I surreptitiously, oh so surreptitiously, opened my cell, dialed the number here, answered when it rang, said, "Yes, I understand" a few times and then hung up.

I turned to Chatty McLoudface and told her the floor had just called me about the elevator as well, sending her off her loud ass phone call and on her sloth-like, stumbling, bumbling way.

I. AM. MOTHERFUCKING. JAMES. BOND.

And this bitch is Blofeld, yo.

SUGGIT!!!!!!!

*cue "We Are The Champions" as I ascend into the heavens wearing a jet pack* 

7:41 pm

BRILLIANT SHIMMERING GOD DAMN GLORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I was basking in the glow of my jet pack's afterburners, I hear a blast of static come across the security department's radio and then:

"*static*-elevator!  *static*-in the elevator! Repeat! I am stuck in the elevator!"

Yes.

The one I had just sent to fix the elevator.

The loud one who was ignoring her duties -her simple, scattered duties- that one...just got stuck in the same elevator she was sent to fix.

Apparently, she was trying to prove to the nurses on the floor that the elevator wasn't broken, it was just working really slowly.

Oh the dancing joy I feel at this moment...

I'm going to call people and tell them of my triumph...

 

8:20 pm 

Just got off the phone with Philip.

At 8:10, about a half hour after that fateful radio transmission, the aforementioned moron fart stormed back into the office.

She seemed mad for some reason...

*second chorus of "We Are The Champions", louder; more, larger jet packs, piloted by tigers, make lazy circles in the air, banner unfurl as I float off into the ether*

I am now going to write a review of The Grind Show for Phil.

Make sure to buy a copy on Sunday night between 8pm and 9pm!

I Want To Pick My Nose

6.1.11

4:11 pm

 

That is what I said earlier today in exchange for money.

Yes, real, actual money.

It appears, in an effort to pussify the children of today, the AMA has created some sort of a mist option that kids get shot up their noses as opposed to cold, hard, steel needles plunging into their supple, pink bodies.

And I am one of the spokesvoices for this pussification.

I would feel bad, but for the money I'm going to receive.

Depending on how many of the voices I recorded today that they use, I will get paid a fee, double that fee, triple that fee or quadruple that fee.

I'm hoping for the last one.

But, here's the fun fun.

This thing I recorded...it isn't for TV...it isn't for radio...it isn't even for the Internet...it's for doctor's offices and your motherfucking iPhone.

That's right, the Flumist app, hitting cyber-shelves in August.

I am going to help children.

Bottom line.

I am going to help children.

And you know that is exactly what I am all about.

Helping children.

While I was in the waiting area waiting for the fun fun, I sat and spoke with Mark Odgers, a colleague of mine who I've worked with a bit over the years.

We discussed just how few people we, as actors, can relate to.

99.9%....you know what? Fuck that, 100% of the people we tell about a typical booking (I had to read the same paragraph six times and get a thousand dollars for it) respond with the same thing: Fuck you.

Obviously Mark and I understand these people don't really mean it...but...yeah, they kind of do.

Which is fine.

You get your "Casual Fridays" and your wacky office Christmas parties and we get Kraft Services and inordinate and incongruous amounts of money for relatively little work.

But our job is more competitive.

And sexier.

And, honestly, harder than you think.

Like skulling.

No, not skullfucking, skulling.

I'll never forget the time my father popped in around the end of my summer a crew camp and tried to make it seem like what I had learned to do was easy.

He almost topple ass over pumpkin into the filthy depths of the waters of Pelham, NY.

Anyway.

So we had a natter.

We also addressed the obligatory buttplug you occasionally see at auditions who talks loudly about how well they're doing, booking this and that and this, and the two assholes who always have that fucking routine:

"Uh oh! Look who's here!"

"Whoa! Clear out everyone! This thing is OVER!"

etc.

Again, we have quite an unrelatable profession, but WE'RE PEOPLE TOO!!!!!

FRAGILE PEOPLE THAT NEED TO HAVE CONSTANT ACCESS TO CHILLED SPRING WATER!!!!!!!

AND GET PAID FOR IT!!!!!!!

OR WE'RE NOT SIGNING ANYTHING!!!!!!!!

 

Speaking of railway accidents, I just spoke with Chris and she confirmed what I had witnessed around 3:15 today: the 6 train I was on did, in fact, kill someone.

The report doesn't state whether the person was pushed, jumped or fell, but, in the end, based on the way the crowd of firemen were looking and gesturing at tracks between four separate sets of cars...that person is no longer with us.

The only thing we can do now is hope they were evil.

Or maybe pregnant with an evil baby.

Or an ugly one.*

THAT is how I get through things like this.

Two things regarding this experience, one which astounded me and one which disgusted me:

First, the sheer numbers of people, ambulances and fire trucks in the area above ground.

And second, the filthy dog fuckers lining up along the walls of the subway station, cell phones at the ready, to record what the firemen retrieved from under the train.

May all your children suffer the same fate as that poor fucker you're fighting to get footage of.

I hope you get to enjoy watching someone struggle to capture the unique experience of having your friend or family member pulled, in baggies, out from under a subway.

You fucks.

And, amidst all this chaos and bloodshed, Christina tells me there is a tornado, hail and wind warning in effect for New York City.

Tornados.

In New York City.

Golf ball-sized (is there really any other size?) hail.

In New York City.

70 mile per hour wind.

In New York City.

Who opened that fifth seal?

I swear...

I also picked up dry cleaning for the second or third time in my life.

The lady was totally nonchalant, like she did this several times a day, every day, and I played it cool as well, but inside, my heart was flying.

I PICKED UP DRY CLEANING!!!

I think the excitement stems from the fact that, no matter how messed up my nice clothes get, these dry cleaning mages always manage to get things spotless and folded...without a drop of water.

It's as unnatural and amazing as a duck-billed platypus.

But I digress...

 

I finished  A Game of Thrones and needed a break before plunging right into A Clash of Kings, so I picked up Mike Sacks' Your Wildest Dreams, Within Reason. Mostly good, some real gems and some things too inaccessible even for me.

*slow, yet sincere clap* 

 

At home, I've been scorching my way through the four seasons of 24 that I missed, namely, the fourth through the eighth.

Two or three hours into the sixth and they just keep on raising these stakes...I'm seriously concerned about the plot of the final season.

Will Jack be a clone?

Will he have to eat his own face?

Only time will tell...

 

I've also jumped into L.A. Noire and I'm having a lot of fun with it.

It's not quite as messianic as the reviews made it out to be, but it is a superb experience.

 

On the artistic tip, I finally got down to recording the first few chapters of Mr. Phil W. F. Tucker's demon-hunting opus, The Grind Show.

He, reportedly, is enjoying it xmax.

As soon as I have a clear, audition free morning, I plan to record another few chapters.

Three down, thirty-eight to go.

Let the adventure continue!

 

And then there is Chris' birthday this weekend.

I'll be dressed as a sweaty guy in a fae costume.

I have a super special gift for Christina that is going to blow her mind.

As soon as I had it, I kept trying to give it to her because I was so excited...she's resisted thus far, but I'll wear her down...

AND, at this party, one Ray Zablocki will be presenting me with a Warlock guitar that he no longer has use for.

I did some digging and this thing looks fucking awesome.

Even if I never use it as a musical instrument, I could make a living just posing with the god damn thing.

I will look like the Guitar Apocalypse with this thing in my hands.

Who knows, I might even learn to make it sing for daddy...and you shall all reap the "benefits".

Reap them hard. 

 

All right, that's enough.

Time for a hail bath...

 

7:00 pm

Just got back from outside.

You know, with the tornados and hail?

No tornados, no hail, hardly any fucking wind.

Just humidity.

Humidity and anger.

 

Call me crazy...but does anyone else think that installing some sort of punishment for weather forecasters when they are incorrect would serve to both make weather forecasters less cavalier when it comes to making false predictions and make me feel better when weather forecasters are wrong?

Ponder, whilst I drip...

 

 

 

 

 

 

*STREUTH!