marketing

ABC claimed that LOST was new tonight, but really, their "new" episode was a recap of recent events in the LOST-universe. As an avid geek, I was well aware of what was going on, that being another week without my regular fix. And I was pissed. But not too pissed because I had tickets to see Ice Cube.

I'm not the biggest fan of hip-hop, but I do admire it for a variety of reasons. Since moshing has become passe, most rock shows have become rather static affairs. Dudes (and a few chicks) nod their heads and do their best to look cool and have a good time without looking like they're having a good time. This is fine by me, because I've never been a doer, really. I'm more of a watcher, but I love the energy given off by people who are unabashedly and rapturously enjoying a concert. It's one of the main reasons why I go to so many. I have seen a lot of really shitty bands, but a hyped crowd has won me over many a time.

Hip-hop shows, on the other hand, is all about crowd participation, and that's thanks in big part to the performers. I guess since they're not busy tuning instruments or fidgeting with amps and effects, they have nothing better to do than work the crowd. I went to an Eminem show once--he was on this package tour with a lot of other rap acts like Xzibit (who rocks)--and there was one dude who was always on stage between bands and his whole purpose seemed to be to grab the mic and shout "MAKE SOME MUTHAFUCKIN' NOISE!!!" Which led me and my friend to call the whole affair the "make some muthafuckin' noise" tour. The thing is, if you shout something at a group of people enough, they will eventually shout back at you. It's all about conditioning, marketing.

As I approached the venue tonight--a sweltering hot evening compared to the long, long string of raw, windy, rainy days we've had here in the usually affably climed state of California--I was enveloped by the diverse group of people filing into the show. The bass was already vibrating the pavement outside. I was also confronted with a horde of hopeful rappers plying their CDs. I bought one for five bucks, because I like to help out. Not a bad move selling your CDs outside a place where you're likely to meet every hip-hop fan in a 150 mile radius.

The show was packed and the interior of the building was unbearably hot. The base throbbing from the story-tall speakers rattled my bones and caused my empty gut (I'd forgone dinner this evening) to shutter and groan. I'd gotten there just in time for The Clipse, who I was really more interested in seeing than the headliner. Lord Willin' is one of the few hip-hop albums in my collection, and I remember running otu to buy it after hearing just one single. I wasn't disappointed. Unfortunately, I got there too late to hear one of the rawest party jams of all time, which I've posted the video of here for my own enjoyment.



The Clipse was good, for sure, but Cube was unreal. I was worried he'd come out and do one verse and a chorus from each of his big songs and call it a night after half-hour. But as soon as he came out, he attacked the mic, played full songs, and didn't even rap over his CD--a live DJ stood behind and cut records. He played old shit and new shit, and the new shit was really dope. He broke twice from his hour-and-a-half set to tell us that he had a new album coming out called Laugh Now Cry Later on June 6th, 2006 (yeah 06/06/06...there are a lot of albums planned for that date, simply so they can plug the whole 666 thing). Cube would say, "Y'all may not know, but I have a new album coming out." And his hypeman/back-up rapper WC (who held it down in his own right) would ask, "When?" And Cube would say "June. Sixth." "When?" "June. Sixth."

The first time around, they went back and forth a few times. The second time, Cube said "Y'all may not know I have a new album coming out." I laughed and shouted--drowned out, obviously, by all the noise--"I knew! You just told us." "It's called Laugh Now Cry Later and it's coming out June. Sixth." "When?" asked Dub-C. And the crowd bellowed along with Cube "June. Sixth." Cube smiled and said, "Looks like we got us a bunch of smart muthafuckas up in here." I tipped my proverbial cap to Cube. That may or may not have been the case, but I knew for sure we had at least one.

fate

One day a few weeks ago, I played hookie from work because I'd been there too much and caught a block of animated shorts by Adam Elliot on IFC. I really like his work and the matter of fact narration. It's funny, but really sad too.

excess

I haven't showered in a few days. I can't tell if I stink or not because I'm all stuffed up. I only walked out of the house to check the mail. I think it was raining most of the day. My roommate said it was raining. Last night I went out to a show with a bunch of country-fied punk rockers being all troubadour and playing acoustic guitar. It was pretty good. I had a couple drinks, but I wasn't much in the mood to get drunk. I get worried that I'll have some kind of weird reaction because I'm on medication. But I'm just paranoid. People mix booze and pills all the time, and they're okay. And it's not really even medication like Prozac or something cool. It's just one-a-day alergy medicine--over the counter shit, Alavert, it doesn't even make me drowsy, but it is doing the trick so I can't complain. After the show, I wandered downtown because my roommate and her boyfriend were calling it a night, but it was too late for me to hit last call, so I just got a slice of pizza from the cart (since all I had for dinner was really bland split pea soup) and walked back home.

I decided before I rolled out of bed that I wasn't going to do anything today. I would've went on my walk if it wasn't raining, but other than that, I knew I wasn't going out. I had a dinner planned and season four of The Sopranos to watch, and I was determined to get through the whole thing this weekend. I loved the show before I moved out here, but since I didn't have HBO for a while, I lost track after season three. One of my coworkers convinced me that I should start watching the current season on OnDemand, and now I'm hooked all over again. I got through two of the four disks today, even though my DVD player is giving me fits, and I made myself a pretty bad ass dinner.

Since my last food shopping excursion, I've been a cooking fool. The only problem is I always seem to make too much and I don't know what to do with the leftovers. The ravioli and meatballs I made last week never seemed to run out--it even spawned a small meatloaf because I couldn't fit all the meatballs into the sauce--and I still have some of the sauce left, though I'm sure I should toss it. I had to use two containers to keep all the lentils and pasta (I had some for breakfast), and even the tuna fish sandwich I made for lunch today yielded half a bowl of unused tuna salad. All of which, I have piled in a corner of my fridge. Today, I finally got it figured out. I made a big ol' balanced meal for one: chicken cutlet parmigiana on a bed of pasta and a side of steamed broccoli. The broccoli was so green and crunchy, and the chicken parm was just unreal, my best one yet by far. I even made it look pretty by sprinkling basil on top of it. I like everything I cook, though, because I did it all by myself and I can eat it when I'm done. I cleaned up the kitchen earlier in the day, so I ate at the kitchen table like a civilized person and listened to Amandine's This Is Where Our Hearts Collide, which makes dinner sound a lot more emo than it actually was.

proud to be 'murrican

Here's an actual conversation I had at a bar on Easter Sunday. I'd stopped there after the Easter party, because I had to drop of RBF and my ex-roommate's boyfriend at the poker club a few doors down. They were drunk, I wasn't, and I figured since I was there anyway, I may as well grab a couple beers before I wandered to my lonely home all by my lonesome. Plus a bar open on Easter Sunday just had to be ripe for people watching. I found out that it was even riper for stimulating conversation.

The principal players are Me (me), A Rube (a rube) and A Large Rube (upsized version and friend of A Rube).

Me: [sitting at the bar, mindlessly sipping Pabst Blue Ribbon from a can, watching a basketball game rerun, day dreaming of hot moms]

A Rube and A Large Rube: [downing their shots of whisky, chasing with Budweiser, eyeing me suspiciously and murmuring to each other loud enough to stir me from fantasy world]

Me: [now looking at the Rubes] What? [flat tone, slightly perturbed]

A Rube: You E-Racki?

Me: Excuse me?

A Rube: Are you Iraqi?

Me: Iraqi? No. I'm Sicilian. [The inner gorilla grunts. If I were Iraqi, I'd have no problem saying so, but I knew why they were asking. I opted for righteous indignation, not that they knew what that was.]

A Large Rube: That's pretty close, isn't it? [He eyed me like he wanted a fight. I saw them say shit to this other group of dudes earlier.]

Me: [Shortly] Yeah, it is. [I was speaking geographically. Sicily is a lot closer to Iraq than bumbfuck California, anyway. I turned back to the game and figured that since I knew the bartenders, I wouldn't have much of a problem with these guys if they wanted a problem.]

A Rube: Are you white?

Me: [only here in crackerville could I possibly pass for anything other than a honkey] Yeah, I guess so. [but really what I meant was "isn't it obvious? Now stop talking to me, you racist fuck."]

A Rube: Good answer.

If/when Jesus does come back, most of his followers will probably be looking to lynch him.

old dogs, new tricks, easter bunnies and celebrating the zombification of the Lord

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darwinism

The stegosaurus was a herbivorous dinosaur that roamed the earth during the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods from 206 to 65 million years BCE. That's a fucking long time ago. Still, the stegosaurus' influence is still seen today. It was believed, somewhat erroneously, that this majestic creature had two brains: a bitty one in its head, and a larger one in its pelvis, right where its bum would be. As it turned out, its butt brain was really a nerve junction in the spinal column. Though not a brain it a traditional sense, this junction probably had some dominion over the stegosaurus' tail.

We can see the vestiges of this primitive beast in a much more sophisticated and magnificent creature. While the tail of the stegosaurus was used for battle and defense, employing its four-spiked tail as a lethal weapon, the specimen in the video below uses its powers for much more pleasant pursuits.



Note: the shapely hips and firm buttocks seem to move on their own accord, slashing and swaying to the lusty rhythm. As you can see, nature has a plan for all of us. There's no way we can say where hind quarters shimmying will go in the future, but its fascinating to see how far it has come. We thank you stegosaurus, most noble beast.

happy easter

Free video hosting, video codes at www.vidiLife.com

This seriously made me cackle like a harpy.

r. kelly makes our anthem wail, yo

40 days and 40 nights

I'm pretty sure we're headed for the end of days. I can't remember the last day we had that didn't have drizzle, showers, steady soaking storms and/or full-on down pours here in California. I think it started in March, but from what I hear, there's no end in sight. I'm not a big fan of the sun, in fact, I can't stand the sun. Still, the nonstop raining or threat of rain or laying in wait of the ensuing rain storm is rather troubling. Last week, the creek at the end of my block was more akin to a mini Mississippi; it was all brown and wide and rushing and deep and just the sight of it made me feel kinda glad that the house I rent is built on a raised foundation. It's been coming down pretty hard for most of the night tonight, so I'm sure the creek will be pretty deep come morning. I'm beginning to know how Noah felt. Unfortunately, I'm really bad at building things, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that someone else I know can fashion a sea-faring vessel out of olive branches or whatever they used back then. As long as I don't have to hang out in the hold with all the critters.

On a funny side note (or maybe not so funny depending on your view of things), the search for a decent image of Noah' s Arc (believe or not, that was the best one I could find) yielded rather surprising results. The number one image result (and link for that matter) for the search "Noah's Arc" came up with the picture here to the right. It's from a show called Noah's Arc, which, according to Noahsarc.net, is "America's First Black Gay Series." I can only imagine the shock and awe this must have inspired in middle American Sunday School teachers looking for a way to snazz up their lesson on the stories of the Old Testament. I guess it's not so funny, but it made me chuckle. I didn't dare do a search for "Jonah and the Whale," seeing as I can be kinda prudish, but feel free to give it a whirl yourselves.

My aunt and uncle sent me an Easter card today with a check for $20. I feel bad because I don't send cards to anyone, for anything. I do call on birthdays, and I figure flying out there for Christmas and whatnot shows I still care. And I do, of course, but I'm way too selfish and self-centered. I did call my grandma on her birthday a couple days ago. Just turned 103. I don't have a real phone, so I had to talk to her on my cell, and she doesn't hear so good, but she knew it was me. We talked for five minutes or so. She kinda yells on the phone, so it was just as hard for me to make out what she was saying also. Luckily, I'll be heading back east a couple more times than just Christmas this year, so I'll be able to see her (and eat me some White Castles) pretty soon.

common people

Food shopping. My home is full of various meats and foodstuffs. I spent like 80 bucks. So far, I've had milk for cereal, and I made myself ravioli and meatballs. And it came out pretty damn good. I had some meat mixture left over so I fashioned it into a makeshift meatloaf, which I will gnaw on tomorrow at lunch. I think I'll come home for lunch. That sounds like a nice idea.

I've been getting really distracted lately. One of the reasons why I haven't been writing down in this thing so much. I've been forgetting to do the little things like pay my bills and all that jazz. And just typing that sent me to pay my Master Card. Maybe this thing is actually good for something.

Anyway, I cooked and watched 24 for the first time in three or four weeks. It's an easy show to pick up again. They lay everything out really easy and kind of brow beat you with the main points. All you have to remember is Jack this and President that and wait for the explosions. I really like Chloe, though, because she makes the best faces. It was a pretty good episode, if not somewhat anticlimactic. I also had to run back to the oven a few times to check on my meatloaf.

Afterwards, I caught some special on E! about "kept men," who are men who get hooked up with a ridiculously rich female celeb and/or billionaire heiress and basically just live on the mooch. It was very inspiring and really compelled me to practice my meatloaf making skills. Hopefully, one day they'll be good enough to snag me a pop star and I can get Rogaine and grow my new head of hair into corn rows like K-Fed. Any female celebrity reading this, please take note: I won't cost you as much as Federline. You won't have to buy me a Ferrari or nothing. I'll even cook. And cameras freak me out, so you'll always be front and center. Where you belong. You look hot in that dress. Hot.

And then I watched Domino with Keira Knightley and some other people (Mickey Rourke and Mo'nique (!!!)). My interest ebbed and flowed for this one, though it definitely had its moments. And in one scene, Ms. Knightley got topless and you could see her boobies, proving good things can come in small packages.

But other than the starlet fan service, there were some interesting themes--a lot of which went over my head, I think, or maybe I'm just giving them too much credit--and strong character development. I probably would've thought it a great movie if True Romance and Natural Born Killers weren't already made, like 10 years ago. Still, it was slick, stylish and very cleverly written (I liked a lot of the dialog), though sometimes it smacked me upside the head too much with the stylish. There were more shots packed into this movie than I think any movie of the same length ever, which didn't do much for my recent bout with ADD, nor did it allow me to take a clear mental snapshot of the aforementioned boobies scene. Still, good job, very trippy and a nice acid-soaked soundtrack.

Though Domino isn't really a true story, it's based on a real person, Domino Harvey, who was an actual model/rich girl-turned-bounty hunter. I checked out the short documentary about her in the special features after the movie. I guess she just died of a heart attack last year, but seemed to live quite a life for only 35 years. Still, not to talk smack about a dead person, but there was one person who commented about her (granted, this wasn't a direct quote from Harvey herself). He was asked, I suppose, why someone of such an affluent background (her mother was a model and her father a famous actor) would want to be a bounty hunter in the roughest streets of Los Angeles, and the commentor said that she liked to be around poor people and experiencing the kinds of struggles she never could in her own life. That kinda reminded me of a song written by Jarvis Cocker for the band Pulp called "Common People":

She came from Greece, she had a thirst for knowledge
She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College
That's where I caught her eye
She told me that her Dad was loaded
I said "In that case I'll have rum and coca-cola
She said "fine"
And then in 30 seconds time she said
"I want to live like common people
I want to do whatever common people do
I want to sleep with common people
I want to sleep with common people like you"
Well what else could I do?
I said "I'll see what I can do"
I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why
but I had to start it somewhere
so it started there
I said "pretend you've got no money"
but she just laughed
and said "oh you're so funny"
I said "Yeah
Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here
Are you sure
you want to live like common people
you want to see whatever common people see
you want to sleep with common people
you want to sleep with common people like me?"
But she didn't understand
she just smiled and held my hand

There's more to it than that, but I really like that song. I thought it was kinda fitting, not so much for what she did, I guess, but for what that guy said about what she did. I think I had a point, but I'm already losing focus. If any one has that song, I'd love to download it from you. Because I'm broke. And I'm not smiling.

guest blogger

Today was very frustrating, and I have the pit stains to prove it. I try not to get angry, ever. It happens, though, because I'm Sicilian and if we're not happy, we're very angry. Like blow your brains into the spaghetti angry. I used to get very angry as a kid, but I've learned to temper that emotion, as well as the rest of them. And the concentration it takes to do so stresses me out. I knew I was having a bad day, because even my fantasy baseball team having a bad day made me woefully depressed and aggravated.

It was work, really, that put me in such a sour mood. I don't have much to look forward to outside the office. My job is all there is for me right now. mgggggggvbbbbbbbbbxxxxxxxxx\]/////////////////////////////..................

That was the cat, by the way. He fancies himself a blogger, I guess. His name is Jake and he usually has little use for me, which is fine, because I have little use for him. I'm not a cat person. I don't have a problem with cats, most of the time, I'd just rather not keep them in my home. They can take care of themselves perfectly fine without me. Being that I'm a pretty solitary and aloof person, I enjoy the company of a pet that actually cares whether or not I show up at home. Jake only gives me the time of day when it's 3am, and I'm the only person awake, such as now. Sometimes he rattles my doorknob to get into my room when I've locked myself in to go to sleep. I'll let him in, he'll start climbing on shit and getting into things, then I'll get up out of bed and usher him out of my room. If I'm on the computer this time of night, he'll either hop in my lap, like he did when he did some typing just then, or jump up on the desk and stand between myself and the monitor and just look at me. He's technically not my cat, but I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm his human.

Anyway, I don't have a house, a garden, a child, a pet or a significant other, and I don't want any of these things. Except a dog, because when I want love, I like the unconditional variety. Cats and people aren't known for such things. Also, gardens mean I'd have to be outside with the bugs. And I'm never home, so owning a house would be pretty stupid. I think renting's pretty stupid, too, but they won't allow you to sleep in a storage facility. And for that I blame Republicans.

The other day, I had a conversation over AIM with a writer of ours, a freelancer who's been working in the business a lot longer than I have. She was an editor for some big city local magazine and was able to parlay that into a career as a freelancer. She seems really cool, and she's down to divulge information. She spoke a language I understood and she told me that I'm heading down the right path, and that, if I wanted to and kept at it, my position right now would lead to bigger and better things. It was on the motivational tip, but it was nice to hear--well, read. I'm so removed from other pros in the field up here, that I don't know if I'm doing what I should be doing. My only peers are the people I work with, and we're all in the same boat. Not that I think they're not talented. They are. But it was nice to speak with someone who has way more experience and realize we could chat on the same level. More or less. And then I had to proof the entire magazine today and considered jumping out a window. Being mild mannered is hard work.

vacation from the world

Today was pretty much one of the more sublimely perfect days I've had this year:

• I watched baseball and drank beer.
• I watched and downloaded pornography.
• I watched LOST and drank beer in between watching baseball and downloading and watching pornography.
• I closely followed the comings and goings of my fantasy baseball team, which did pretty well today.
• I contacted via phone, text messages and MySpace many folks I hadn't been in contact with recently, and that was really cool.
• I got a phone call from my student loan company, which I'm hella late on payments and they told me not to worry about it and zeroed me out, putting me into forebearance until May 14th. The money I've owed went on to my principle, but at least I'm not behind anymore, and I've fully resigned myself to the fact that I will be dead before I pay it off anyways.
• Did I mention that I watched LOST? it was fucking awe-fucking-some. No really. It got off to a slower start than last season, but I'm thinking this one is even better than the first, and I swear Evangeline Lilly's getting hotter. Or I'm getting lonlier (ie. pornography). Either way, I goddamn love that show. But since we're on the lonely topic, I'm going to depart from the listing format and go of on a bit of a tangent. Since my new roommates have moved in, I've pretty much been left to my own devices (ie. pornography with the sound on, even though the sound embarasses me sometimes and even though no one else but the cat can hear it, I'll still turn it down; it's my ironic form of modesty), and while it's cool that I get to lay on the couch and drink beer and watch baseball all day, it still kinda bums me out. They both have boyfriends and whatnot, so they're either over at "his" houses or just kinda hibernating. I guess that's what couples do. They spend time with each other, but living alone doesn't sit well with me. I talk to the cat from time to time, but I don't know if he likes me, though lately he's been warming up to me because I'm the one who feeds him and is here most of the time, when I'm not stuck in the office. The house isn't very big, but it does have three bedrooms, which means it's made for at least three people, and I find myself wandering aroudn the house aimlessly and talking to myself. I'm on friendly terms with both my roommates and their boyfriends, but still I feel like I'm a leper or something. I'm kinda needy like that. If I could afford it, I guess I'd be better off getting my own place or something. But I do really love this house and its location and I promised myself that if I move again, it'll be out of this town. Anyway, I think I have one more item to list...
• I read some recipes from Rachael Ray's 30-Minute Get Real Meals cookbook (which belongs to one of my absentee roomies). Now that I've been paid and whatnot, I'd like to go food shopping at some point this week, and I was looking for something fun and easy to make. I found a recipe for "Meatball and Sausage Pizza Stoup" which doesn't sound immediately appetizing, but does combine two of my favorite meals (soup and pizza) so it can't possibly be bad. In the intro for the recipe, Rachael writes, "The meatball dumplings in the stoup [I'm not sure what "stoup" is but it sounds like a mix between soup and stew] taste okay without 2 tablespoons of breadcrumbs, but being a Sicilian girl, I simply cannot make a meatball with no breadcrumbs." Momma woulda been so proud of her baby boy if I'd brought you home, but you had to go and marry someone else. In another life perhaps.
  

Liakhovich v. Brewster

Tonight, after the hectic pace of the past few weeks had finally subdued, I nestled into my couch to watch a healthy amount of television. I watched the A's beat the Yankees, Gina get kicked off of America's Next Top Model, best of skits from The Chapelle Show and, keeping with the model theme, Super Models Gone Bad on E!. As dramatic as all of these things were, none of them could hold a candle to Liakhovich v. Brewster on Showtime--quite possibly the best heavyweight title fight I've ever seen.

The heavyweight division of boxing has been in a real mess ever since Tyson went apeshit crazy. I guess a case could be made that it was pretty messy even when Tyson was knocking fools out in the first 20 seconds of the first round. Regardless, there hasn't been a real unified champion in forever, and sports commentators and promoters are clamoring to find out who the next undisputed bad ass will be. Enter Liakhovich v. Brewster for the WBO Heavyweight Championship.

I'm not at all familiar with Lamon Brewster, the defending champ going into the match. My enjoyment of boxing is pretty pedestrian. I don't follow the sport on a daily basis, but I will watch pretty much any fight, usually as long as I catch it from the beginning, because fights tell full stories, and I don't want to miss anything. However, from the pre-fight interview, in which Brewster (the dude on the left in the picture above) was wearing a white T-shirt with his two children on it, seemed like a pretty nice guy. He mentioned his hardships growing up (it's rare that fighters come from untroubled backgrounds, I guess, because if you had it really easy, you've got no excuse to fight) and how he's using the money he's making as a fighter (a pretty good sum since he's been champion for a couple years) for his children's education. The commentators said that he has the most killer left hook in the heavyweight division, but needs to work on his defense, meaning his fights are slugfests. I liked Brewster instantly.

But then came challenger 13-ranked, 29-year-old Sergei Liakhovich, who came to the US from Belarus with $100 bucks in his pocket (that he borrowed from someone else) and a dream to become the heavyweight champion. He hadn't had a fight in 16 months, and people criticized Brewster's decision to fight him because they thought Liakhovich an unworthy adversary. He was given no chance to win. He talked about the political climate in his country and how he fights for his homeland. His beautiful wife was in attendance, sitting in the second row, and the fight was being broadcasted back to his country. It's no mystery why there are so many boxing movies.

I spent almost the whole fight standing and pacing around my living room. I pace when I get excited (I also pace when I'm bored, but this time was for excitement). Just when one fighter looked as if he was finished, he'd land a Herculean blow out of nowhere that would turn the tide for a round or two, only to have the tide turned back again. I one of the earlier rounds, Liakhovich was pinned against the ropes and Brewster went in for the kill. Liakhovich took a flurry of shots to the head but somehow, I'm still not sure how, stayed standing and after Brewster punched himself out, retaliated to have Brewster against the ropes. In the seventh round, after Liakhovich dominated, punishing Brewster with shots to the body and quick left hooks, but by the end of the round, he had run out of gas, and again, Brewster, who looked worse for wear, moved in and eventually dropped Liakhovich to the canvas at the end of the round. In the ninth, Liakhovich, who looked like he had nothing left, hit Brewster with a right hand straight to the ear that even rocked me out of my seat. The punch had a dizzying effect, sending Brewster to the ropes, where he was unloaded upon. Somehow, and again I don't know how, he managed to stay up. Liakhovich managed to ride that last momentum swing into the 12th round and emerged the new champion, winning in a close but unanimous decision.

Usually heavyweights aren't as active as these two fighters, but these guys threw so many punches at times, they could've outworked a featherweight. Epic. They're set to have a rematch, but if I want to see it, I'm probably gonna have to pay for it. And I think I just might. As Don King says, "Only in America."